"I can't stand those barbarians, lacking in decency! How dare they stand up against us, those blessed by a deity?!" A voice filled with anger reverberated across the a spacious room. The speaker was obviously frustrated, huffing with indignance.

A young child watched her mother pace around the room angrily. Her eyes were miniature pools of darkness, long obsidian hair framing a slim face. Her appearance was like a perfect replica of her mother, albeit much younger.

Contradictory to children her age, she wore a mask of stoicism that reflected the marble floor. As if fearing any form of emotion would result in punishment. She had been trained since young to not show emotion- leaving her acting in a manner befitting a stone wall. The young girl found it odd, that her own mother was expressing her anger so blatantly in front of her. She was the one who stressed the importance of never showing emotions.

Her mother stopped, glancing at the young girl. It seemed to deflate her anger, allowing her to regain a sense of calmness. Taking a breath to regain her composure, the women approached her daughter.

Grabbing her by the hand, they left the bedroom and moved into the hallway.

"Remember, you are one of the special ones. Blessed with the divine blood of the Queen running through you. Those putrid, mundane-blooded creatures are beneath you."

Lecturing her daughter, the corridor opened into a grand courtyard. Grand arches and elaborate columns carved of obsidian opened into a magnificent plaza, covered with a blanket of snow. The fine powder cascaded from the sky like a divine blessing.

The pair belonged to the Shadow Covenant, one of four major powers that dominated the world. Their capital, the City of Serenity was named in honor of their progenitor. She was a Deity-Favored, the first lady who had received the blessings of shadow.

Nestled along a vast snow-filled mountain range, a large city sprawled under the clouds with stunning grace. Gothic buildings constructed of dark brick and obsidian stretched across the snow plains in neat tiles. With architecture characterized by vertical stretches, grandiose arches, and asymmetry, the capital exuded a complex beauty.

Encompassing the city was an inky blockade carved from darkness, reaching heights of forty meters that eclipsed the landscape in shadows. A translucent dome of energy further encapsulated the city, capable of withstanding attacks from even deities. Expected of a capital worthy of a matriarch.

Their aristocratic rule was based on blood purity, the rulers descendants of the Queen of Shadows. The more diluted one's blood, the less their status was in society. Regardless of someone's rank, Exalted and mundane alike abided by this strict hierarchy.

The divine connection empowered their children with a portion of the deity's authority, allowing them to maintain their spot at the zenith of the human world. Descendants worthy of their blood were trained from birth, their destiny already paved for them. In order to become worthy, one must have access to the powers granted by their heritage without have entering the Tower.

That in of itself was a monumental task. Only a handful of individuals in thousands capable of utilizing their Inherent, traits, or skills without ever entering Halcyon. Their blood purity was capable of circumventing this phenomena, but it was still a possibility for even those of the highest purity to be unable to utilize the grace of the Queen.

When a child became of age, they would be tested to confirm their access to the Queen's grace through a ceremony held every year. The earliest a trait could manifest would be at ten years old, an age where children should be in classrooms and having fun. But the nation of shadows wasn't so kind.

Their child's potential would either rise their families to new heights, or crumble it into nothingness. But for nobles, it was an intricate game of politics; only those worthy enough of using the grace of the Queen at the earliest age would be able to rise through the ranks.

The daughter and mother were headed into the confines of the castle, in attendance of the Shadow Ceremony. As the wife and second daughter of the leader of the Shadow Covenant, the results from the ceremony would have large political implications.

All of this complex information were recited from the young child's head with meticulous accuracy. Social structure, government, and blood purity were all ideas hammered into them from young. Like a dutiful daughter, she absorbed all of the teachings imparted to her with relative ease. She didn't want to disappoint her parents while simultaneously living up to her sister's standards.

The young child's stoic demeanor didn't falter in the slightest as she followed her mother down the winding corridors of the enormous castle. The silver embellishments, obsidian columns, and luxurious carpet all blurred together in her eyes. Her inner turmoil betrayed the calm mask of indifference, her thoughts drifting to her older sister.

A genius prodigy, gifted with an abundance of talent paired with the graces of the Queen. With her bloodline, her potential was all but guaranteed to be nothing short of extraordinary, but she had far surpassed that term. Not only did she number in the single digits of individuals capable of using her lineage trait at ten years old, her combat prowess and Inherent propelled her far above her peers.

With her parent's expectations nearly crushing her, the young girl's heart was in conflict. She already knew that she wouldn't experience success in today's Shadow Ceremony. After all, she had been trying tirelessly since her tenth birthday to use the power of her blood. To no avail, the mysterious power eluded her grasp. The issue would be how many years would it take for her to unlock it? Or if even?

She wanted to be like her older sister. But she remained way beyond grasp, at the peak of a mountain she couldn't even dare to gaze upon.

***

In a vast chamber with marble floors and obsidian columns embellished in silver, a large crowd faced a grand stage. In this rare occasion, nobles and commoners mingled together. While they were forced to interact in the grand space, a clear division between the groups was noticeable. They formed separate groups, clearly distinguishing their boundaries.

On the large rectangular base of the stage was a magic circle inscribed into the stone, with children forming a neat line at its side. It's design was intricate, inscribed into the floor by a master mage. It's inscriptions were far too complicated for the young girl to understand. She could only vaguely sense it was capable of scanning something.

The young girl blended in seamlessly with the other nervous children. They were a mix of ages, with some experiencing the ceremony for the first time. While for others, it was maybe their second, third, or depressingly, the fourth time. Anyone past four would have given up already. Some chattered with lively anticipation, while others wore a dark look of resignation.

Observing the magic circle, the girl was one of the latter. When imbued with mana, the circle would light up and begin scanning an individual. If the person possessed the trait passed down from the Queen of Shadows, the mana circle would turn black. It would remain white otherwise.

The sea of people observing the ceremony were relatives and friends alike, filled with anticipation. The young girl couldn't help but complain inwardly about the extravagance of the ceremony. Once they were old enough to manifest a trait, all an individual had to do was focus and sense the power within them. The trait would be the same, but the inherent power gained would be one of many.

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A fairly straightforward process that would determine in seconds if they had developed a trait or not. But the nobles wished to embellish the ceremony in favor of maintaining their power; use the ceremony as a public execution for their enemies. What was more demoralizing then watching your heir possess no latent talent? Those with more noble bloodlines would have higher chances of manifesting the trait early, after all.

She had grown up as a noble, one of the highest-ranking one's at that. But she still found their opulent, and arrogant attitudes disgusting. She even found it more repulsing she was considered one of them to an extent.

When it reached her turn, the young girl maintained her mask of indifference. Wrapping herself in a veil of stoicism, she stepped onto the magic circle. A white glow enshrouded her body, fluttering her dress and hair. The results were expected, she was not her sister.

After a handful of seconds, the circle remained white before turning off. Without a shift in expression, she stepped off the stage much to the shock of the audience. It was very rare for a trait to awaken at the age of ten, but the expectations placed on her were heighted as a result of her sister. By both her parents, and the public.

The young girl's expression cracked as she made her way down the steps and into a side chamber. She knew in her heart she wasn't as talented as her sister, but deep down, a small part of her wished for a miracle. But life was never that easy.

Seeking solitude, she was met with surprise. Standing in the chamber wearing a cold expression of detachment, was the last person she least wanted to see. Despite only being sixteen years old, she emanated a domineering pressure.

"Older sister."

"It's Caroline," the girl rebuked coldly.

As both heirs to one of the most powerful organizations in the world, they rarely interacted. Whether it was an intentional decision by her parents or not, they were far from sharing a sisterly bond. Bogged down by lessons in weapons, battle strategy, economics, anything important to maintaining an empire was infused into their minds.

They were treated like sponges, forced to absorb any information spilled into them. The only time when they weren't learning or training was when they slept. She had grown used to such a life, never knowing anything outside of it. Her mind would sometimes wonder about what other kids her age did. But the coldness of reality would always harshly shove her back into the present.

A cold rift had always separated the two, only exacerbated by their stark differences in talent. No matter how hard the young girl pushed herself, how much she refined her sword technique or mana control, she was always in her older sister's shadow.

"I came here to say one thing. You'll never surpass me," Caroline declared with a dead-pan expression. It was like she was issuing an inviolable decree. And it made her younger sister's heart waver. The shadows darkened around the prodigy, like multiple eyes were piercing her younger sister with their gazes.

She involuntarily shuttered. Her sister didn't even possess a mana core yet, but has already received a certain level of mastery over a trait. The various inherited skills that came from the trait had been documented meticulously by Shadow Covenant. Unfortunately, the young girl couldn't figure out which one her sister had inherited.

Tossing over her shoulder as she left, "Do not ever mention we are related to anyone."

The young girl could only watch Caroline, her older sister, disappear into the shadows of the corridor. For a moment, she stood there with her feet planted. She had only ever known her sister as some great figure she looked up to; someone she hoped to reach. But, it would seem she wasn't the picturesque person she believed her to be.

Gazing at the calluses decorating her petite hands, the untold amount of hours she had spent training filled her mind. Swinging her sword for hours on end till her hands were bleeding. Encumbering herself in hours and hours of studying till she would pass out from exhaustion.

Despite wearing a veil of stoicism to protect herself, she could feel it cracking. Warm tears trickled down her cheeks, an alien feeling to her. A deep-seated grudge was germinating within her mind. Effort really doesn't hold a candle to talent, does it?

'Am I really so talentless?'

The person she looked up to the most, chased after with a maddening desire to overcome, had disregarded her existence. Her ice cold facade rippled, and she could only curl into a ball. Head buried in her arms, the young girl couldn't stop the wave of emotions flowing out of her.

No one would comfort her.

***

Five years had passed since that day.

With each passing Shadow Ceremony, her parent's complexion would grow darker. Their frustration slowly approaching a breaking point. She had tried to ignore their disappointing glances, throwing herself into more training. They had secured the future of their blood for the next lifetime with their eldest daughter, but what of the youngest? A disappointment.

She had naive thoughts of forcibly manifesting the trait. Some outlandish hope that if she tried just a little bit harder, she would be rewarded for her efforts. Unfortunately, that wasn't how the world worked. And after not manifesting the trait for the fourth time, she was left apathetic to the world around her.

The young girl had failed to ever utilize the powers within her divine blood. Which was laughable to the other nobles; her blood should've been of the greatest purity. They would fling rumors about her father having a mistress, or she was adopted. They didn't particularly bother her, but her parents saw it as an attack on their status.

The only way she would be able to access the trait was braving the dangers of the Tower now. Which was a whole other realm of danger. Without the necessary training and preparations, it could be a death sentence.

And even if she returned from the first trial alive, their political standing could only remain with the existence of their eldest. If she decided to explore the world, and abandon the city, all that they had built up would collapse. Her parents were greedy people at heart, addicted to power and influence. Their avaricious nature had no bounds.

They carefully nurtured her, anticipating that if her sister was uninterested in the clan's affairs, she would be their back-up plan. Their cautiousness wasn't unfounded, Caroline was consantly finding ways to leave the holds of the city. The world was very large and she desired to travel it. She received tacit approval to climb Halcyon, but only if she waited for a bit longer. They needed her here for a bit longer to cement their position permanently.

They never expected their youngest would be so talentless, their intricate plan shattering into pieces. Both of their daughters were intricately nurtured from birth. Designed to be perfect tacticians, and skilled fighters. But one had seemingly inherited all of the talent, leaving one as a useless leftover.

"Why can't you be like your sister?!"

"You disappointment!"

After the fourth ceremony, they locked her in chains, and threw her in the deepest dungeon of the manor. It was a dungeon that would usually house prisoners of war or heinous criminals. Deprived of her noble status, she was thrown into her own private cell like a rotten animal.

They had convinced themselves maybe such harsh treatment would forcibly bring out her trait, but it was an excuse to relieve their frustration. Once Caroline took off to attempt Halcyon, the political scene would become shaky. What stopped the other houses from deciding to take over while their heir was gone?

The once innocent, and pretty girl lay in a heap. On a cold black floor reeking of metal and rust, the occasional water droplet would fall from a crumbling ceiling. The girl's obsidian eyes were hollow, her skin pale like she had been drained of blood. She was in a miserable state.

But unlike that day many years ago, her emotions didn't waver in the slightest. It was a strange feeling, but held a calm sense of comfort. She couldn't feel sadness, despair, or frustration. She was simply an empty cup now.

Fastened with metal shackles that teared into her wrist, the girl lay in the shadows. Every now and then a guard would shove food through a small opening. If it could even be called food, sharing more similarities with wet slop.

She found it almost laughable, how the people she had called parents would change in the blink of an eye. While her sister soared into the heavens, she had fell into the depths of hell. The girl could feel her personality warp with the bitterness of living in a prison, and under her parent's scorn.

'At least there are no more lessons down here.'

She saw one benefit of being locked in the dungeon. With nothing to do, she could simply sit in darkness for all eternity. No more sword instruction, or strategy lessons. It was a sort of meaningless existence she had never felt before. Her life's greatest ambition focused on catching up to her sister.

She wished her parents would've just thrown her straight into Halcyon. At least there would be something to do there. Here, she simply rotted away.

Her thoughts would unconsciously wandered to her sister, imagining what she was doing at the moment. She didn't think about her in admiration, but one of bitterness. While she rotted like a corpse in the darkness, she would get to explore the world with limitless reservoirs of talent.

She no longer harbored the desire to reach her sister, chasing after her back. She wanted to surpass her, crush her along with all of that endless talent. Which was strange, she thought all of her emotions had been discarded. The empty cup was unconsciously filled with an overflowing fire.

Maybe she wouldn't stop there, she would wreak vengeance on the system that had grounded her into dust. Never knowing of what a happy childhood was like, forced to become an unemotional weapon, and discarded when unneeded.

'I'll probably just burn it all down later.'