CHAPTER 1: The Arrival

The carriage swayed as it rumbled down an uneven path, its wheels creaking against the earth. Inside, rows of silent girls sat with empty expressions, their gazes lost in the dim candlelight that barely illuminated the space.

Among them, a girl with long pink hair sat alone.

Her hands rested on her lap, fingers lightly brushing against a small, delicate clock hidden in her pocket. The golden gears inside ticked, but to anyone else, it would appear pristine—its golden surface gleaming, its hands moving in a rhythm only she could understand.

100 days left.

The glowing text beneath the glass was unreadable to human eyes. Only the Celestials could read it, a quiet whisper of her origins and the path ahead.

"Find hope."

That was the mission she had been given. But what was hope? And where was she supposed to find it in a place that only knew suffering?

She exhaled slowly, her eyes shifting toward a thin sliver of light breaking through a gap in the wooden walls of the carriage. A flicker of warmth against the cold darkness.

Curiosity pulled at her.

She leaned in, pressing her fingers against the rough wood, peeking through the small hole.

Beyond it, the fields stretched endlessly beneath the dim, rust-stained sky, bathed in the dying light of a sun that no longer warmed. And beneath it—girls, like her, like the ones in the carriage, but… different.

They stood in clusters, their hands outstretched, and with every movement, the land obeyed. Wilted crops stood tall, sickly trees bloomed anew, and weakened bodies were healed—all touched by an invisible force, a power that pulsed through them like a second heartbeat.

The girl narrowed her eyes. Magic? No… something older. Something deeper.

Then—pain.

A sharp jerk on her hair sent her crashing backward.

"Move aside."

She barely registered the voice before her body hit the cold wooden floor. The girl who pushed her away took her place at the hole to look outside.

Before she could react, a hand reached down toward her—gentler than the one that pulled her down, hesitant but firm.

"Are you alright?"

She blinked, her vision adjusting to the girl before her. Golden blonde hair shimmered against the dim light, and piercing blue eyes watched her with curiosity.

"Here, sit up."

The pink haired girl hesitated before taking her hand, steadying herself back into her seat.

"You’re new."

The blue eyes girl observed her, tilting her head slightly. Her ears were pointed, but not quite like an elf’s—more delicate, as if they had been reshaped over generations.

"What’s your name?"

But she hesitated. She shouldn’t say too much. So the elf girl continuing to break the silence,

"Etsuko," she introduced herself, her voice light yet knowing. "I don’t see many outsiders here."

The pink haired girl in other hand, tensed slightly but said nothing.

Etsuko turned her attention back toward the hole in the carriage wall, nudging her slightly.

"Go on. You can look again."

So she glanced at her before cautiously peeking outside once more.

The sight of the girls in the field, their hands glowing with life, filled her mind with questions.

Etsuko, watching her reaction, finally spoke:

"They have quite amazing Elyssence, right?"

The pink haired girl frowned. "Elyssence?"

Etsuko looked at her, surprised.

"You… didn’t know? Don’t you have it too?"

Her blue eyes glimmered as she watched the fields beyond the carriage window.

"A power that heals life, mends wounds, and revives nature."

Beyond them, the other girls worked in silence—their hands glowing with faint yellow light as the land responded to them. Wilted trees stood tall, broken crops grew anew, and those who could barely stand suddenly breathed easier.

It was more than just magic. It was giving. Endless, boundless giving.

"Some say it’s a gift passed down from the first-born Elves," Etsuko murmured. "Others say it’s the remnants of the divine who once walked this land. But…"

She tapped the side of the carriage.

"No one gives something without taking something in return."

As the carriage moved past the fields, the pink haired girl attention was drawn to the girls, their hands clasping a softly glowing blue gem. It was the Sapphire Heart.

"I’m pretty sure you know that too, right? The energy we use to restore life to this world." Etsuko murmured.

The pink haired girl's fingers instinctively curled around her Celestial Relic—the golden clock hidden in her pocket.

"You’re not from here, are you? Where do you come from?"

Etsuko glanced at her in curiosity.

She hesitated for a moment. She couldn’t answer. Her voice caught in her throat as she paused.

And with that, the carriage doors creaked open, drowning them in a blinding white flash.

The girls stepped out into the harsh light. The air was thick with the scent of earth and sweat, and before them stood several imposing figures—the guards the pursuers, the overseers —silent and unyielding as they watched over the frightened group. The pink-haired girl lifted her gaze as she stepped into the open. The sky loomed above—vast, empty, mocking. For a moment, she imagined it meant something. But freedom was a feeling, not a reality.

Then the wind shifted, and chaos followed.

A girl broke into a sprint, her tattered dress fluttering as she made a desperate escape. Gasps rippled through the group, fear clenching their throats as the guards erupted into motion. The fleeing girl’s hands trembled, but she forced herself to focus, channeling her Elyssence. With a final push, the ground trembled beneath her feet, and a wall of rock erupted between her and her pursuers.

She didn't make it far.

The superior among them, a man who always seemed cold and distant. His figure was tall, sharp, and neat. His gaze stayed steady, watching everything closely. As the other guards hesitated before the stone barrier, he merely exhaled, stepping forward. With a flick of his wrist, dark chains shot up from the ground, twisting and wrapping around the girl’s ankles. She barely had time to react before the chains tightened like a noose, pulling her legs out from under her. She crashed onto the ground with a harsh thud, the impact knocking the wind from her lungs. Before she could crawl away, the chains dragged her backward, her nails clawing uselessly at the dirt.

She turned—her eyes wide with terror as she recognized him.

The cold, quiet one. The Warden. The man who made sure no one ever tried to run again.

She whimpered, trying to get to her knees, her voice shaking. "I—I’m sorry… I forgot… the rules—"

A loud slap echoed as his hand struck her cheek. She crumpled onto the dirt, her breath coming in shuddering gasps.

He stepped on her head, grinding her face into the ground without a word. The silence was suffocating, filled only by the sound of her ragged breaths and the shifting feet of those too afraid to speak.

Then, finally, his voice cut through the tension, low and sharp as a blade.

"You forgot the rules?" He scoffed, his tone devoid of sympathy. "No, you simply thought you were above them. That your pathetic spark of power made you special. But you are nothing."

He pressed his boot down harder, making the girl let out a weak cry.

"Elyssence isn’t yours to waste. You know the law. You use it without permission, you pay with your body." He leaned down slightly, his cold eyes locking onto hers. "So tell me, what part of yourself are you offering?"

The other girls looked away in silence, their expressions carefully blank, though fear lingered in their eyes. They had seen this before. They knew how it ended. One girl’s hand trembled slightly, her fingers curling inward, but she made no move to intervene.

But the pink-haired girl felt something burn within her.

Her fists clenched, her breath sharp. Before she could stop herself, she stepped forward. "Stop it!"

A hush fell over the group. The enforcer’s boot lifted slightly as he turned, his icy gaze settling on her.

Etsuko, standing next to her, grabbed her wrist quickly. "Don’t," she whispered. "You don’t understand—"

But it was too late.

The man studied her, his expression unreadable. Then, with an amused scoff, he took slow, measured steps toward her. "You must be new."

He stopped just inches away, towering over her. The wind stirred between them, ruffling the fabric of their worn clothing. She refused to look away, her green eyes burning defiantly.

He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing. "Those eyes… rare," he muttered. "Not blue like the rest. Different. An outsider." He smirked, his tone full of mockery. "How unfortunate."

His voice dropped lower, colder. "You don’t belong here. Trash like you never do."

Then, suddenly, another man stepped forward and grabbed the back of her neck. "Enough playing hero," he murmured, yanking her backward with effortless strength.

A loud click echoed as he locked a collar around her neck, its weight pressing against her skin. A pulse of magic hummed through it—an enchantment, sealing away her abilities.

"Now, behave," he said, tightening the leash before forcing her to walk.

The pink-haired girl stumbled forward as the others followed, silent prisoners in a world that offered them no mercy.

She glanced to the side.

The girl who had tried to escape was being dragged in the opposite direction, her collar pulled so tightly she could barely stand. She sobbed, her voice raw with desperation. "Please… I won’t do it again! Please don’t hurt me!"

No one answered.

The other elves, the silent witnesses to countless punishments, barely spared her a glance. They kept their heads down, only glancing from the corners of their eyes before their own leashes tugged them forward toward another day of servitude, fear keeping them from intervening.

The pink-haired girl swallowed hard, her resolve trembling.

This wasn’t just a prison.

It was a life stripped of dignity, hope, and freedom.

And she was now a part of it.