Children Of The Black Sun
A man dies on a battlefield, a war slave who never owned a single day of his life. In the void between lives he is brought before a white figure, a god who admits plainly that it pities him, and just as plainly that it is bored of a world that has grown too predictable. The god offers him a second chance under three conditions. He will carry a unique skill shaped by his suffering. He will be born of the Black Sun, though the god leaves that unexplained. And he will live the life he always wanted, the simplest condition and the cruelest one for a man who no longer knows what wanting feels like.
The man accepts without questions. Not because he has none, but because a lifetime in chains taught him that questions were not his to ask.
The god sends him off with nothing but two words and the void takes him.
Left behind, the white figure is joined by a dark one, horned and heavy with a presence that was never meant to look human. They watch the man go and wonder aloud whether he will get far. Neither of them knows. But then again, no one expected him to survive the first time either.
He was born on the last minute of the Black Sun. Not pure enough to be hunted. Not ordinary enough to be forgotten. Somewhere in between, the way he has always been. His mana will grow more pure with age and the world will eventually notice him whether he wants it to or not.
He carries an unique skill which is a blessing but at the same time a curse.
Nobody knows what he is. Except his parents. And himself.
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