"Can only change things if you take risks, Aiden," he whispered.

  His father used to say that all the time. If he were still alive, he would probably die from fright at the risk his son was about to face.

  Aiden looked up to gain a better view of the torch. It hung from the cave's ceiling, immeasurably distant, like an unreachable glass sphere. Its ever-burning flame shifted colors with the passing hours—the only measure of time for the residents of the mines. A few scratches and designs deliberately marred the perfection of the clear jewel.

  Runes.

  They remained unclear no matter how hard Aiden squinted his eyes—distant, even from the tallest of the residences or, Maker forbid, the Overseer Tower. The gate was not, though most wished it was further away, thrown to the abyss for all they cared.

  Aiden was not one of them.

  He hurried along the ruins, ducking from shadow to shadow, in the cover of the crumbling houses all around him. The early light was reassuring, for it guaranteed the adults were still at the mines. But only the Maker knew where the Sovrans, the so-called district overseers, prowled in wait for an excuse to commit violence.

  Better safe than sorry. Aiden spat on the ground. Bastards.

  No one came to the cursed ruins—not by accident, not by intention. Few were brave, or fool enough, to even contemplate the idea. The mere thought of approaching anywhere stained by the forbidden light of runes sent shivers down the spines of the common folk.

  Well, not mine, Aiden tried to convince himself. But the consequences of being caught sure put caution in his steps.

  The threat of the execution of an entire bloodline—Excision, as the Sovrans called it—was enough to instill reason into even the most reckless of fools, yet life tended to drive people into corners sometimes. When it did, reason and caution were all but thrown to the wind, and survival was all that mattered.

  Aiden’s belly protested. He gritted his teeth, cementing the resolve to do what most miners would never dare to attempt.

  Soon, the gate stood in front of him, a massive door wrought in metal darker than the purest piece of coal, a chunk of craftsmanship so tremendous no human hand could have crafted it alone. It towered over even the highest of the crumbling ruins, what once had been houses, almost reaching the ceiling itself.

  Something deep inside the young boy yearned to uncover the mysteries of the runes. If this goes well, if I manage to draw the runes, we’ll be rich. Aiden could already count the coins he was about to make, but it was the pleasure of discovery that pushed him to take the risk in the first place.

  With a determined nod, he grabbed the shoddy notebook concealed inside his pants and the precious piece of coal he had been saving for this very occasion. With his eyes glued to the gate, the runes seemed to draw themselves into his paper as he copied them to the best of his limited ability.

  Only I can see them. No one else so much as glanced at the runes without suffering a tremendous headache, as far as he knew. All everyone else could see were blue blurs of light. If there’s something wrong with me, only the Maker knows.

  Aiden flipped the few remaining pages as he drew, trying to save space; paper was not cheap or easy to come by in the district, after all. If he ran out before accomplishing his mission, it would be hard to get a return on his investment.

  For ages, the gate had remained shut. Come to think of it, Aiden did not remember anyone saying the thing had ever opened at all. A loud metallic whine made him look up. A curtain of dust fell from the ceiling as the gate did something it was not supposed to, something which defied both reason and common knowledge at once.

  It started to open.

  What the abyss? Aiden stared, petrified as the massive rune-inscribed remnant moved like a slumbering beast on the verge of awakening. No, it’s not supposed to do that! He tensed, preparing to run, his heart sinking to the bottom of his stomach. Though he cursed his stupidity, he knew it did no good—the situation had already spiraled out of his control.

  He leaned against the wall, pressing his hands to his temple. It’s my fault, dammit. Why did I have to come here? Dust fell on his head, and the realization struck Aiden like a brick.

  If Aiden were caught in the ruins, there would be consequences. If he were caught with a book filled with runes, blood would be spilled. He tried to run, but the rumbling ground made the ruins, already in the worst possible condition, a nightmare of falling debris and collapsing buildings.

  The wall that he had been leaning on crumbled forward, stealing his balance with cold accusation. The notebook fell from his hand, but he caught it with the other.

  “Ah—” A brick smashed him in the head.

  Aiden pushed against the ground, trying to stand up, slowly coming to his senses. Warm blood ran down his nose. He blinked away tears, already crafting a cover story that his mom would certainly not buy.

  I messed up. Again. Why did I even come here? Stupid!

  Aiden stood up, legs shaking like rotten wood, and looked up only to see the gate destroying the ruins of the ruins in its path as its door opened. It was good nobody lived in those, or they would wake up to their deaths.

  The notebook fell from his limp hands. This was worthy of an Excision, not just the usual mess. The Sovrans would stop at nothing until the culprit behind the disturbance was found.

  Dan, Mom… If the Sovrans know I was here, they’ll kill them all.

  The pain of his broken nose and a split lip lay forgotten in the chaos. His heart lurched, almost seemed to stop, as what had been sealed for ages now stood open. It was like the bottomless maw of a titanic beast. There was no end in sight, nothing beyond it. But the opposite might as well be true if there was a way to pierce the darkness beyond the Haven, outside the cave Aiden called home.

  Even as guilt and terror strangled his breath, he could not help but wonder what mysteries lay outside the mines. It had to be a door to the birthplace of all Sovrans—Elysium. But maybe, just maybe, it led somewhere else entirely.

  The small part of his mind not seized by the sheer terror of the Excision pondered those questions. It had to be a place better than the mines. It doesn’t take much to beat that, he thought as a pounding headache formed in his temples.

  Heavy footsteps reverberated from the depths of the gate’s impenetrable darkness, drawing closer with every passing second. Something was coming. Someone. Aiden yearned to move, but curiosity and an unhealthy measure of fear held him still.

  Just one look, he told himself. Just a peek.

  What walked through was not a creature of nightmares, unlike the beings woven out of Sovran magic. To Aiden’s disappointment, it was just an elderly man, shriveled, bloody, and on the verge of death.

  He looked older than a piece of rotten leather, his face aged enough to defy the natural course of life. It was hard to believe someone could live that long—the eldest in Aiden’s district was only thirty—but this man looked old enough to have met death itself.

  The white-haired elder favored one leg, grimacing at each step as blood flowed from a gaping wound on his throat. There was a hole in his knee and a burn mark on his shoulder. He might be old, injured like he had taken a severe beating, but that was the least of Aiden’s concerns, for the man was tall—his height easily doubled that of any miner.

  Maker’s mercy, he’s a Sovran!

  The gate sealed shut behind him with a stone-crushing force. The man dropped to his knees, vomiting blood on the floor with a vigor that contradicted how close he must be to passing. Something stirred within the crimson pool, thick and scaly. Alive. It twisted amidst the blood, thrashing as if gasping for breath.

  Bile rose in Aiden’s throat as he laid eyes on what resembled worms—red worms—though their size was much bigger than anything he had ever seen. One of them lunged at the old man, its vicious pink fangs glistening in the air, ready to take his fading life.

  Aiden shouted a warning out of instinct, "Watch out!"

  The Sovran disappeared alongside the oversized worm.

  “Abyss take me!” Aiden blurted out. Even after blinking a couple of times, he struggled to comprehend what had just happened. “Where in the—”

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  “Damned thing,” the Sovran snarled behind him. “Repugnant creature!”

  Maker protect me! Aiden turned around slowly, clenching every muscle in his body to stop them from trembling. The old Sovran stood behind him as if nothing had happened, as if his teleportation was a common feat.

  He held the worm in his hand with a firm grip unsuitable for a decrepit elder. He can use magic, Aiden screamed inside his head. That’s the only way. Sovrans who were blessed by the touch of the arcane could perform things beyond comprehension. Aiden was not versed in their magic, but disappearing into thin air sure as the abyss was something only one of them could do.

  The Sovran’s black eyes stared at Aiden, but his gaze soon turned to the book abandoned on the floor. Aiden also looked at it, a weird feeling festering in his gut. It might have been nothing, but he did not remember it falling so far from him. A brick to the head could confuse even the brightest minds, and Aiden’s was far from brilliant.

  “It’s time, Korvax?” The elderly man looked up, seemingly talking to himself. “So it begins.”

  Not just a Sovran, he’s also crazy! Aiden made every effort not to breathe, the last thing he needed was to anger a crazy being capable of ending his life in an instant. I’m dead! Maker, please, please keep him away from my family.

  Before Aiden reacted, before he uttered excuses to save his family from Excision, the Sovran vanished again. But Aiden was ready this time. He turned around, expecting to find the elder facing his back.

  Nothing. No one was there.

  Not convinced, Aiden inspected his surroundings, desperately seeking any trace, wishing to find none, hoping the matter was done.

  Nothing. Not a soul. Thank the Maker.

  ***

  When Aiden reached his neighborhood, the torch burned with an eye-watering brilliance, signaling the coming of a new day. His eyes stung, but that had nothing to do with the runic remnant hanging above all its citizens. Pain radiated through his body with every step taken, with every ragged breath that came out of his swollen nose and split lip.

  I could’ve died.

  Death was not even the worst possible fate—he knew that from experience. Excisions were rare, but when they happened, the wounds on those who remained never healed.

  Aiden yanked the notebook from inside his pants with more anger than reason, more strength than necessary, but there was also curiosity amidst the fear. Flipping through its few pages, he saw the meager amount of runes registered—their meaning unknown, their uses even more so.

  Six runes. A near-death encounter with a Sovran from beyond the gate, and all he had to show for it were six runes. Abyss take me, it’ll have to do.

  If he inscribed them on stone, someone might buy it. And if he could inscribe them into metal, even Big Red, the underboss of the midmarket, would jump at the opportunity to acquire them.

  Anything that had runes on it had to be handed over to the authorities; keeping remnants was forbidden as per the Maker’s decree, and his enforcers did not treat with kindness those who broke the law. Yet, he could do it, if he was careful. The key was to keep the supply low to not raise the suspicions of the Sovran overseers. Or other people.

  Wincing in pain, Aiden pushed the door open and entered his home.

  All the houses in the district were built in stone, including his. Dark gray bricks cut and molded by unknown means, magic perhaps. The floor was cold to bare feet, but the feeling of warmth and safety was enough to fill empty stomachs and ward off bad memories.

  Aiden looked at the portrait of his dad, which hung on the wall next to his bedroom. Shameful as the thought was, sometimes he wished to just throw the thing away. Memories brought more pain than comfort, but the thought of forgetting how his dad looked was too bleak.

  His carefree smile would never change so long as the portrait did not fade. Aiden was unsure if that was sad or comforting. Perhaps both. Wiping away the tear that trailed down his cheek, Aiden mustered a smile.

  Nobody was home except Dan, Aiden’s brother. His mother was at the mines as usual, only to return after the torch went dark, and that gave him time to work on his bludgeoned face. The last thing Aiden wanted was to explain what had happened near the gate.

  A few steps took him to the kitchen. It was simple and cozy; it was home. A cooking pot hung cold above the ash-filled pit where precious coal had long since become dust. Aiden’s empty stomach rumbled with hunger, but mealtime was still a long way ahead.

  A patchwork carpet sat in front of the firepit, scraps of old clothes sewn together to harness any sort of heat that might chase away cold feet. A soft yawn drew Aiden’s attention to the bedroom.

  The little brat is up.

  Sudden movements were bound to draw his brother’s attention, so Aiden tiptoed to the water bucket next to the wall and cupped a handful to splash against his bloody face. Dan would not shut up if he saw the dried blood.

  I have to get rid of it, fast. Aiden wiped his face clean with the inside of his shirt, but the water on his lip stung like a rat’s bite.

  A resounding gasp echoed from across the room. “Mom’s not gonna like that!”

  Aiden groaned, renewing his efforts to get rid of the evidence.

  “Lemme see, Ai!” Dan tugged impatiently on his brother’s shirt.

  Aiden turned only to wince when he saw Dan’s worried expression and brown, tangled hair less tidy than usual. His eyes were still swollen with sleep, but they opened wide as he got a good look at his older brother’s face.

  “It’s not that bad,” Aiden shook his head with confidence. “Right?”

  The silence and widening of small brown eyes were answers enough.

  Their mother would not believe any stories Aiden crafted, least of all the truth. I crashed face-first into the ground, Mom. But it only happened because I saw the gate opening and a half-dead Sovran walking through. It was the truth, but abyss take him if it didn’t sound like the rambling of a madman.

  “Are you alright, Ai?” Dan’s voice softened with concern.

  “Yeah.” Aiden forced a grin. “It’s alright, I’m good. Just… tripped, Dan.”

  “Tripped?” Dan scoffed. “No way Mom’s gonna buy that.”

  “Well, it’s the truth.” Aiden sighed.

  Most of it, at least. But Dan did not need to know that. They hurried along to the bedroom, a place absent of prying eyes or windows, where Aiden unceremoniously collapsed on the pile of rags he used as a bed.

  Dan knew about his ability to see the runes, an unfortunate slip of his caution from years ago. Not even Aiden’s mother knew—the best-kept secrets were known to few, his father assured. The knowledge about the gate was one of them, and Aiden decided to take it to his grave.

  “Listen, you little brat. Help me with Mom, and I’ll show you something cool,” Aiden said, and Dan’s ears perked up. “Deal?”

  Dan looked unsure, his usual haggling face, so Aiden pulled out the notebook from his pants and offered it to his brother. Little eyes lit up with excitement as Dan pounced on the book, but Aiden pulled it back with hard-earned experience.

  “You’re gonna back me up on this.” Aiden pointed to his face.

  “Deal!” Dan shouted, covering his mouth with a hand a moment later. “Deal,” he said again, in a lower tone, but the enthusiasm was still there.

  Flipping through the pages with a straight face, Dan examined the drawings, and for one moment, Aiden felt hope emerging within him. Can he see them now? He swallowed dryly and stifled the embers of hope so they didn’t cause disappointment, as usual.

  “Ugh!” Dan winced, blinking several times before closing the book.

  “Still can’t see them.” It was not a question. Aiden knew some things never changed.

  “Nope.” Dan did not hide his disappointment. He looked away, his eyes chasing something invisible in the room. “It’s all blurry now. I hate the black spots! Black spots, go away!”

  “Least you didn’t barf on the bed again.” Aiden flicked his brother’s forehead.

  “Hey!” Dan’s cheeks grew pink. “You promised you’d forget that.”

  Dan rambled on about other kids, ranting about petty disputes, but his voice lay forgotten in a distant corner of the room. No one else can see the runes, just me. That had been true since Dad had found out, and it was unlikely to change.

  It was common sense that if one looked at the torch for long, they got dizzier than getting punched in the face. But when Aiden looked at it, he saw symbols crafted with intent and beauty. Sometimes, they almost seemed to make sense.

  Almost.

  Aiden gave up on trying to understand why he was different—as long as he did not stand out, it did not matter all that much. The nail that sticks out the most gets hammered down, or so his dad used to say.

  More like excised.

  “…here.” Dan kept on talking.

  Does he ever shut up? Aiden grunted.

  “Here!” Dan planted a slap on his brother’s head.

  “Ow!” Aiden stood up, hand eager to give his brother a well-earned beating. “Daniel, you little shit—”

  “Care to explain?” An angry voice interrupted him. It was his mother’s berating tone, and it was filled with fire.

  “M-m-mom?” Aiden grimaced.

  “What happened this time, Aiden?” She put her hands on her hips, the stance of an inquisitor. “The Heather boys? Gambling? Scamming people on the midmarket?”

  Silence stretched out between them as Aiden thought of an excuse.

  “He fell on his face!” Dan burst into laughter, ending Aiden’s chances once and for all. “He got mad ’cause I used all his coal.” He pouted, eyes on the brink of shedding tears. “He beat me again, Mom! Ai is so mean to me!”

  Irena looked at him, shook her head, and sighed. Aiden might have been born with eyes that could see runes, but his brother was born a genius of deception when it came to convincing their mother. Perks of being the younger sibling.

  Did she buy that? Aiden stood stunned. Dan, you beautiful brat, I owe you one.

  His brother smiled back, careful so that their mother did not see it, and winked.

  “You know coal is expensive, Dandan.” She whispered and brushed Dan’s messy hair, nudging him toward Aiden. “Tell your brother you’re sorry. You two shouldn’t be fighting over silly things like this.”

  Aiden ended up having to apologize for a nonexistent beating, but that was a cheap price to pay.

  Before Irena had the chance to find out the truth, he changed the subject. “Mom, is everything good? It’s not even late light yet. Did the Sovrans suddenly become kind or what?”

  “The abyss will melt before that happens.” Irena scoffed, looking at him as if he had just said something weird. “Did you… really forget?”

  Nothing short of the Maker’s decree could stop the mines. Wait, there’s something else, Aiden corrected himself. There was a day when something like that happened, though it only came every ten years, so it was easy to forget.

  The Ascension.

  It was the sole chance at a life in Elysium, the home of the Sovrans—the only opportunity to get out of the mining district and have full bellies and warm, real beds.

  It was also the day Aiden’s father had passed, the day that got him killed.