Rage

I woke up at the time I did everyday, a few hours before sunrise. All of the people down here woke up exactly at the same time, with no external waking required, as they were accustomed to this lifestyle. Without a word being spoken, people got up and started walking out of the Sleeping Room, heading to the respective part of the colony they worked in.

This colony, named colony 6, was split into several parts, each on a different level underground. The biggest part, the sleeping room I was currently in and the agriculture room next to it were located at the top level of this colony. Below that were all the other parts essential to keep the colony active, like the food storage room and the weapons storage room.

The colony was mostly self sufficient. Food was procured by the crops grown in the agricultural room and the few animals that were reared further underground. The main source of income for Colony 6 was the smuggling of illegal magical artifacts to Crowne buyers on the outside. These consisted of scrolls and magical objects used to make curses, and other harmful magical spells with. These could be used as weapons by people with low levels of magic potential, which was common in the Crowne race.

According to my father, there were two types of magic users. The more common type, the ones with little potential were the ones who used these magical objects as weapons and curses. The rare type were the ones with high potential, who could use magical powers without the use of objects. These were very, very rare and occupied the highest posts in the Crowne military.

Our Rean race on the other hand, couldn't use powers nor magical objects, which is why we were considered inferior to the Crownes. In the wars that plagued the distant past, we only used primitive weapons to fight, which led to a swift loss for us every time. At some point, we gave up, acknowledging the Crowne race as superior to us in every way.

This was the only difference between the Reans and the Crownes. There were no physical differences, or even character traits. It was just people who could use magic, and us, the people who couldn't.

As a result, the inhabitants of the Kingdom were regularly put through trials in order to verify their race. The Reans who impersonated Crownes were caught and killed, just like any other Rean. I often wondered why the world was they way it is. Why did the king kill us Reans, when it would benefit the Crownes more to use us as slaves and workers?

I didn't find the answer to that question until many years later.

Later that day, I stood in a line in the food storage room, a large stone space with stacks of grain lined along the walls and a cook serving rations from a large pot of food, waiting for my turn. There were several people cutting the line, but I didn't interfere even when people cut in front of me. I didn't want to start a fight with anyone, for the sake of myself and my family.

"Hey, kid," said a man behind me, in a cheerful voice. "How much for your sister tonight?"

He laughed, along with a few friends of his behind him. They were probably drunk. Alcohol was banned here in the colony, but people found a way to brew it somehow, selling it to members illegally. This man's name was Raste, and he was a delinquent who was one of these alcohol dealers. Since the leader of this colony's demand was money, Raste was able to live down here without any trouble as long as he payed the amount demanded.

"Kid, answer me! I'm tired of old hags all the time. I want someone younger, like your sister, uhh, what was her name again?" he asked.

"Ember, I think it was," said one of his friends behind him.

"Ah yes, Ember. What a beautiful name," he jeered. "I wonder how she tastes like."

I curled up my hand into a fist, stifling my rage. I wanted to kill him, right here. But he was several years older than me, and would easily defeat me in a fight.

Why am I so... Powerless? I couldn't even defend my sister from this bastard if he decided to do something to her. I'm pathetic.

Suppressing my emotions, I managed to stay calm, unresponsive to his words. When it was my turn, I was handed my rations, a few servings of rice for my family, I turned around to leave without saying a word.

"Ahh, what a shame," I heard his voice behind me. "Looks like I can't have Ember..."

I kept walking, ignoring what he was saying.

You have no idea the pain I'm feeling right now. Hell, I feel likee have to go rough on someone tonight, making sure they feel every ounce of pain I'm feeling inside. Fuck it, maybe even make her pregnant, so she can suffer along with her shitty family."

I froze in place. The prostitutes lived in another sleeping room on the lowest level, a wretched place where paying men would go there when they had the money and choose someone to spend the night with.

My mother lived in that place.