As an assistant to the royal guard, Zadie had her share of duties. Polishing weapons, tidying the training grounds, oiling armor, and preparing meals for the soldiers were just a few of the daily tasks assigned to her at the start of every shift. But as someone well-versed in medical procedures, she was also regularly tasked with tending to the wounded and sick among the king's military force.
So, when a group of mercenaries stormed the palace the night before, raiding the king's vault and unleashing a storm of chaos on the royal grounds, Zadie was called into action.
What she found upon arrival wasn't the usual majestic sight of the castle gardens bathed in moonlight, with their grand marble sculptures, ancient trees, and vibrant flowers glowing silver. What she found was a massacre.
More than a hundred royal guards had fallen trying to protect the palace and stop the mercenaries. Their bodies were scattered everywhere — at the vault's entrance, inside the vault room, throughout the halls, even among the flowerbeds. Burned, slashed, and beaten beyond recognition, their faces frozen in expressions of sheer horror. Blood poured freely across the floor, forming pools and rivers of red that painted the royal residence in grotesque shades of crimson.
The sheer brutality of it all nearly buried the divine beauty of the castle. Even Zadie, who was no stranger to death, found herself stunned into silence.
Pushing through the carnage, she joined the other medics, helping the injured and checking every body for signs of life. Most of the fallen were beyond saving, of course, but she didn't stop, moving from corpse to corpse, checking for heartbeats.
During her search, she came upon one of the mercenaries believed to be responsible for most of the slaughter, reportedly the worst among them.
But Zadie couldn't even begin to identify him. His face was scorched, charred, melted, his entire body reduced to a blackened husk.
She knew immediately what had happened. Anyone would. Magic overload. Everyone knew about it, especially someone like Zadie. She herself had come dangerously close to that threshold before, close to becoming just like the man at her feet. But she had never stepped over it. She'd sworn she never would.
Looking around, she quickly determined that neither he nor anyone nearby could be saved. Turning back to her grim task, Zadie was about to move on when something caught her eye. A glimmer. Something dark and small, no larger than her palm, faintly glowing with a shadowy purple light. She squinted and crouched.
Her eyes widened.
"A… seed?"
It looked like a seed, yes, but not from any tree she'd ever known. It was like a shard of darkness itself, forged into something living.
That kind of seed wasn't an ordinary item. They weren't something people just carried around. They were rare, far too valuable to be found in someone's pocket.
She glanced at the scorched thief, then back at the glowing object in her hands. And in that moment, Zadie realized where the seed had come from. A place she'd never even dared to dream of entering. A place forbidden to all except the royal family.
This wasn't just any seed. This one had been protected by the king himself.
A seed was already worth a fortune. But one that belonged to the most powerful family on the continent? Zadie could only imagine the value. Enough to lift her family out of poverty for ten generations, she figured.
And so, holding in her hand an object that could change her entire life, Zadie asked herself what the right thing to do was. Not what was right in the eyes of the world, but what was right for her. Paying bills had grown harder with each passing week, even while working two jobs. That kind of money would change everything.
But she couldn't just sell the seed anywhere. Which meant she'd have to find a buyer in the East black market.
Which… was a problem. Not because she didn't know any contacts. But because she'd promised herself she would never return to that life. She had promised to leave that version of herself behind.
For her son. For the man he would become.
Thankfully, Zadie had succeeded in that mission. Her son had grown into a good man — cheerful, hard-working, fair, kind, and smart. Everything a mother could hope for. She was proud of him, especially knowing she'd raised him alone. Especially knowing who she really was underneath it all.
One of the hardest things about being a mother, for Zadie, was that every time she was with her son, she had to wear a mask. A disguise of happiness and virtue. So Tav would look up to her. So he wouldn't follow in her footsteps. So he'd never know how rotten she truly felt inside.
It was exhausting, lying to her own son every day since the day he was born. It hurt. But Zadie had changed for him. So that he could be better than she was.
But being good and just had come at a price. In this city so "blessed by the gods," good people, especially poor ones like her, were rarely rewarded. Her only chance at supporting herself and her eighteen-year-old son with dignity was by working at least two jobs.
Even so, lately, even that wasn't enough.
Tav had gotten into the most prestigious school on the continent, a place with exorbitant tuition fees. Covering those costs had become nearly impossible in the past year.
So yes, she had started thinking about her old life again, about going back to who she was before she had a son. But choosing to become that person again… that was even harder than lying to Tav. Because if she did, then the truths she'd built would crumble into the very lies she'd tried so hard to bury.
But what choice did she have? It was Zadie who had pushed Tav to take the Sanctum entrance exam. She was the one who wanted him to have a future brighter than hers. So the least she could do as a mother… was make sure that future remained possible.
Looking around to make sure no one was watching, Zadie quietly slipped the seed into her pocket and stood up.
She hadn't made her decision yet. She'd think it through later, once she was home. Alone.
***
"I love you, baby."
"I love you too, mom."
As soon as Tav stepped outside and closed the door, a pang struck Zadie's chest. The same ache she always felt whenever he left home. Just a mother's instinct, she figured, but a justified one. Even though he'd grown up in the East, even though Tav knew how to handle himself, she still hated watching him walk to school alone.
But it was necessary. Kids had to grow up. And Tav was already eighteen. It was time for him to face the world on his own — even with all its dangers. She'd done it. So could he.
Still, with that familiar sense of unease crawling in her chest, a thought came to her, one she hadn't yet considered.
She walked to the living room, crouched by the couch, and dragged it aside. Beneath the floorboards, she lifted a false plank. Hidden there were a few items: a worn-out sword in its sheath, several knives and vials of foul blue and green liquids, a folded scrap of parchment… and, of course, the stolen seed.
She picked it up, ran her fingers over its rough, unnatural surface, and stared into its faint purple glow. The new thought became more tempting.
Maybe... maybe she shouldn't sell it at all. Maybe giving it to Tav would be better.
If he absorbed the seed, Tav could become germinated, just like her, just like all his classmates. He'd be stronger, faster, sharper, more powerful, and far better equipped to deal with whatever challenges lay ahead. And he wouldn't be an outsider anymore, not when it came to magic, at least.
So… what should she do? Should she prioritize her son's comfort and safety now, or his security, and success in the future?
Once again, Zadie found herself caught in a painful dilemma. But just like the last one, it wasn't a decision she needed to make right away.
Carefully placing the seed back into its hiding spot, she took the worn parchment and brought it to the table. Dipping a quill into a nearby inkwell, she began to write:
We need to talk. I have something you might be interested in.
— Raven
As soon as the quill lifted from the page, the black letters slowly faded, vanishing completely as though they'd never been there.
The message had been sent.
Now, all she could do was wait… and think. There was still time to change her mind, to return what she'd stolen and do the right thing.
But Zadie wasn't naive, nor was she righteous. First, she'd see how much the damn thing was worth.
Then she'd decide.