Darrick’s fist slammed into my ribs again, harder this time, and I gasped for air, the pain sharp and immediate. I bent over, instinctively curling in on myself, but I didn’t fall. The boys laughed, their voices echoing in the orphanage courtyard.

"Still standing, huh?" Darrick's tone was mocking, but there was an edge to it, like he wasn’t satisfied with my silence. He shoved me back, but I straightened up, my eyes focused on the ground.

No point in looking at him. I knew I was smarter than them and already knew what I’d see—my own gray eyes reflected in his perfectly black ones, that grin that never quite reached them, and his wide shoulders casting a long shadow, his bulk intimidating the others into laughing along.

Ever since I scratched him and left that big scar on his face when we were younger, I became his favorite target. He grew up too fast, and I quickly learned not to fight back, but it was still hard to stop one’s survival instincts and trained old habits.

His fist drove up into my stomach, and before I could even react, his knee followed—a sharp hit between my legs. The pain was blinding, and I dropped like a stone, hitting the ground with a dull thud. The world spun, leaving me dizzy, the dirt beneath my cheek cool against the heat of my face and the throbbing ache in my gut.

"That’s more like it, little Gus." Darrick’s voice came from above me, but I couldn’t bring myself to look up. The other boys laughed, and the sound felt distant, muffled by the ringing in my ears.

I tried to hold everything in, to not show weakness, but there was no time to dwell on the pain. Matron Rilsa’s voice snapped through the air, cutting across the courtyard. "Inside, all of you."

She stood in the doorway, her cold blue eyes narrowing slightly as she scanned the group. Her features were sharp, all angles, and she didn’t bother hiding her indifference. It never felt like she actually cared. Darrick and the others shuffled past her, already laughing about something else, and I forced myself to stand and follow them inside.

The orphanage was large, a hulk of stone and chipped paint, but it always felt cramped. Maybe it was the crumbling walls, the broken windows barely letting in enough light to remind us the world outside still existed. That’s why I tried to stay outside as much as I could, but here, everything felt small, narrow. Life here seemed like it was only about getting through another day.

I slipped inside the hall, grateful to disappear into the shadows behind the crowd of children. The few old oil lamps barely illuminated the place, the shadows moving without rhyme nor reason. The air was cold, damp, like it had been stuck in the walls for far too long, refusing to leave. I found my usual spot near the back, leaning against the stone wall, my body still throbbing.

Matron Rilsa stepped to the front, holding a piece of parchment in her hands. She didn’t look at us, just the paper, her voice flat and distant, like she was delivering the news to an empty room.

"The king is dead."

A ripple of whispers moved through the group. I glanced up, catching the wide eyes of the others. This was big news. The king... gone? I could hardly believe it. It didn’t seem possible. But Rilsa wasn’t finished.

"There is a new king, I guess," she continued, folding the parchment with an air of finality. "He has issued a decree."

She let the words hang in the air, and we all leaned in, waiting for what came next.

"Tomorrow, those of you between fourteen and sixteen will travel to the palace. The new king has decided to allow boys from the orphanage to stand before the World Tree."

The words hit harder than any punch Darrick could throw. The World Tree. We’d always seen it in the distance, its massive branches spreading out across the horizon, the top hidden among the clouds. But it was something other people—nobles and warriors—got close to. Not us.

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A low murmur spread through the hall, boys glancing at one another, excitement starting to build. Rilsa didn’t give them long to dwell on it.

"You’ll have a chance to receive a blessing," she added, though her voice held no warmth. "But don’t expect to actually be chosen."

I couldn’t help but glance at Darrick. He was grinning, his wide frame practically vibrating with excitement. He caught my eye and smirked, as if to say, I’m going to get it. You’ll come back with nothing, like always.

I looked away. I wasn’t going to let myself lose hope. A blessing? From the gods themselves? I could become a Vamyr, finally escape this awful place. The thought made me smile a bit, though anxiety also cursed through my body.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. I lay on my back, staring at the cracked ceiling, the thin mattress beneath me offering no real comfort. The World Tree. Its branches filled my mind, spreading out like some vast, ancient creature. I’d seen it my whole life, always from a distance, always too far away to really feel real. Now, I was going to stand before it.

What would it feel like? To touch the bark, to know the gods were watching?

I closed my eyes, making a silent prayer to the heavens.

⟡⟡⟡

The morning came too soon. Matron Rilsa’s sharp commands echoed through the dormitory, dragging us from our beds before the sun had even fully risen. The wash water was cold, biting at my skin as I scrubbed away the dirt and sweat, but it didn't really bother me. I smiled. The other boys were jittery, the same excitement I felt buzzing just beneath their words.

I dressed in my best—though "best" was a loose term. My clothes were old, fraying at the edges, but I had nothing else. None of us did.

We gathered outside the orphanage, the road ahead of us like a whispered promise most of us couldn’t quite believe. The walk to the city stretched ahead, hours of relentless steps, but no one complained. The palace was waiting, and beyond it, the World Tree.

We didn’t speak much as we walked. By the sea, the city rose in the distance, its spires and towers cutting into the sky. But it was the Tree that stood above it all, its massive trunk visible even from here, looming over the world like it was watching us.

Darrick stayed close to me, his footsteps heavy. He didn’t shove me or make a comment this time. He didn’t need to. I could feel his confidence in the way he walked, the certainty that he would leave with more than he came for.

When we reached the city, the noise hit me first—the clamor of merchants, the chatter of people going about their lives. But none of us had eyes for that. Our focus was on the palace gates and what lay beyond.

Vamyrs stood guard, their marked arms a clear sign of the gods’ blessings. I stared at them as we passed, wondering what it felt like to be chosen. To carry the proof of your worth for the world to see.

We lined up behind a group of unfamiliar boys, one by one being called forward. Each one disappeared behind the palace doors, their steps quick with anticipation. Matron Rilsa gave the guard a list, and my heart pounded in my chest as I waited, the line growing shorter with every name.

Darrick went first, and I could swear even the guards were intimidated by his presence. I swallowed hard. I was next. It was only a matter of minutes before I was called.

"Argus."

With weak legs, I stepped forward. The palace loomed above me, gleaming and grand, but I barely saw it. My eyes were locked on the garden beyond, on the roots of the World Tree twisting through the earth, old and gnarled. The air around it felt thick, heavy, like the world was holding its breath.

I climbed the marble steps, each one feeling like it took a lifetime. Beyond, the garden was beautiful, but, once there, I barely noticed the flowers or the soft grass beneath my feet. All I saw were the roots, the incredibly wide trunk towering above me, ancient and impossibly tall.

Off to the side, I saw them—nobles, dressed in their finery, sitting at a distance, watching with bored expressions. This was just another day to them, something they’d seen way too many times to really care about. I didn’t see Darrick or any of the other boys.

The guard gave me a slight nod, his face impassive. "Touch the tree."

My legs trembled as I took another step forward, my breath catching in my throat. The air hummed with power, and the world seemed to narrow to this one moment, this one opportunity. I reached out, my fingers brushing the rough bark of the trunk.

And then, everything went black.