The midday sun stretched across the small colony, warm and steady. Clothes swayed lazily from lines strung between wooden posts, their colors rippling in the soft breeze.
Levin stood in the grass, sleeves rolled, helping the townsfolk take down their drying garments. The laughter of children rang across the field like bells.
"Master Levin!" one of the children called, tugging at his hand with wide eyes. "Are you going to teach us how to craft a mancer staff for our Abi?"
Levin paused, the corner of his mouth lifting.
"Yes," he said gently. "I will... but not now." His eyes settled on the group of eager faces before him. "Remember what I told you? What comes first?"
The child frowned, kicking the dirt. "History... but history is boring."
Levin crouched so his gaze was level with the boy's. His voice dropped lower, firmer.
"History is important. Without it, you will never know the bloodline that runs through you. A trade skill can shape your present... but history shapes your soul. Someday, when your studies have advanced, I'll teach you how to craft your own staff. But first, you must learn where those skills were born."
The child pouted but eventually grinned, running off with the others.
Meanwhile, in the colony square, Asteroy and Pita shove a man forward, his wrists bound with rough rope. The people nearby pause, their whispers curling like smoke through the midday air.
Levin steps into view, his sharp gaze cutting into the prisoner before he even speaks.
Levin: "Asteroy, Pita... who is this?"
Asteroy tightens his grip on the rope.
Asteroy: "A fool, Commander. He tried to slip through the royal gates."
Levin's eyes narrow, his voice calm but sharp as steel.
Levin: "And why would you dare do such a thing? Do you not fear the Artimancers' justice?"
The man trembles, his face sunken with hunger, his voice breaking.
The Man: "I only wanted food... the Zoners, we're starving. Please, we just want to eat."
Levin studies him, unblinking. His tone carries no sympathy, only judgment.
Levin: "So what, what is that of anyone else concern, you are a Zoner. And yet you have two hands, two feet. That means you could work, but instead, you steal. You would take from those who labor, and then plead for mercy. That is not hunger, it is laziness. And worse... it is betrayal."
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
The man's eyes widen in terror.
The Man: "No, wait, please, I swear! I won't try again. Just let me go back, I'll work, I'll do anything!"
Levin's voice is final, cutting through the air like a blade.
Levin: "You will await the Selection. The Surface will judge you."
The man collapses to his knees, begging. But Asteroy and Pita drag him off, his cries echoing through the colony square. Around them, the townsfolk avert their eyes, whispering the word that seals his fate:
Levin exhaled softly, standing once more, when a sudden vibration against his wrist made him glance down.
A small device blinked with a ring. With a touch, the screen opened.
"Hey, Dad."
Levin's eyes sharpened immediately. Behind his son's smiling face, the screen revealed a forest, tall trees stretching like dark sentinels.
"Levy," Levin's voice dropped, stern. "Where are you?"
The boy hesitated. "...I ran away from home."
Levin's jaw clenched. "Why would you run from your mother?"
Levy's face twisted. "You know why! She's an artist. I hate being around her, it makes me feel... poor."
"Son," Levin sighed heavily, pressing his temple. "You cannot just run away. She is still your mother."
"But I'd rather be with you!" Levy's eyes lit up, desperate. "You're strong. A warrior. You're friends with Royals, so that means we're Royals too, right, Dad?"
Levin's expression faltered, disappointment flickering across his face before he forced it into a smile.
"...Yes. But—"
"Dad!" Levy cut him off, excitement bubbling. "You won't believe it. I've been in the forest and I've killed so many parasites already! I'm stronger now so I can be just like you!"
Levin's blood ran cold.
"What forest, Levy?" His voice sharpened to steel. "Don't tell me, you're in animal territory?"
"I... don't know," Levy admitted, shrugging. "I've never seen an animal before. But I know they were parasites. I killed them all."
Levin pressed a hand to his forehead, his heart thundering.
"Parasites live in animal territory, Levy. You're not hunting pests, you're in their lands. You need to come home now."
"No!" Levy's voice cracked. "Not until you come get me. If you won't, I'll just keep getting stronger."
Levin's patience snapped, his tone rising.
"Levy, I don't have time for this! Dangerous days are coming. War is stirring between animals and Zoners, you cannot be there. Come home!"
But the boy's face soured. His lips curled, and in one bitter motion, the screen cut black.
Levin stared at the dead device, muttering through gritted teeth.
"That boy... a handful. Just like his mother. Emotional. Unstable. Like most women."
His finger swiped, opening a new line. The screen shimmered, revealing Naggi's face.
"Levin."
"Naggi," he growled. "Why isn't our son under your care in the Zoner Knight district?"
Her eyes lowered, heavy with guilt. "I'm sorry. He ran from me again."
Levin's voice cut like a blade. "What's the point of custody if you can't keep him from disappearing?"
Naggi flinched. "You think it's so simple? He hates me. And part of it is because you fill his head with lies, lies about me, about women, about artists."
"Enough." Levin's tone silenced her instantly. His eyes burned with authority. "I didn't call for a lecture. Our son is missing. He told me himself he's in the animal forests."
Her hand covered her mouth, trembling. "How... how could he get that far?"
"You tell me." Levin's voice was low and venomous. "You were supposed to be watching him. Now listen carefully, send a team, escort him back to the Royal Family before he gets himself killed."
Naggi's voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm sorry... I'll see to it."
Levin's stare cut through her like steel. His words fell with finality.
"Understand this: the broken bond you have with our son is your fault. You had a choice, Naggi. Artimancer... or Artist. And you chose Artist."
The line went dead, the glow fading into silence.
Levin stood in the sunlight, fists trembling at his side. Children's laughter still rang across the field, but to him, it sounded unbearably far away.