OldColin, 604 ATC (Month of the Snake)
The bells rang with a captivating rhythm as the people made their daily commute to the Faith. The elderly led the prayer with quiet, heartfelt words. As their voices rose in unison, another gathering stirred — smaller, hidden. Beneath the shadow of the castle and just past the treacherous alleys of Old Colin, a crowd formed around a man of significance.
"Brothers and sisters of the old kingdom, I thank you for gathering here for today's commute," the man said, his last word laced with sarcasm.
Laughter broke across the small crowd. It might have seemed like an ordinary meeting, if not for their eyes — glowing with an unnatural light.
The speaker stood atop a wooden platform, wearing a pale, featureless mask. His eyes glowed green, eerie and intense. Suddenly, hurried footsteps approached. The crowd parted for an elderly woman, her face creased with panic, arms clenched tightly at her sides. She stepped forward, her voice sharp with urgency.
"Reverend, you must've heard the news. You wouldn't have called us here for anything else."
The Reverend gazed down at her with calm detachment — a calm that only made his glowing eyes feel sharper.
"Yes, Sister," he said smoothly. "It's a tragedy. Young Malik executed for standing up to the pigs… I mourned his death the moment I heard. Just standing here now fills me with grief—yet pride. He died for a noble cause."
His voice didn't waver. Not once.
The woman's face twisted with grief and fury. She raised a trembling hand and pointed at him.
"You sent that boy to his death. Do none of you see? He's condemning us to a fight we cannot win!"
Her words stirred murmurs in the crowd. Whispers spread like smoke.
The masked man waited, then raised his hand for silence.
"I do not seek to condemn you," he said. "My only purpose has always been the people. The true people — the Visionaries."He paused, scanning their faces.
"We held this land long before these powerless apes, yet we are given nothing in return."
Another pause. The crowd tensed.
"For years, we've been punished for what we were born with — something we never asked for. They fear us. They beat us down when we try to rise. And why? Because we were born better. We are faster. We are stronger. But what has it earned us? Nothing. We are still victim to this system, the system made from the tears and blood of our ancestors, it is OUR sacred duty to fight against this injustice and bring back the strength of our people. Young Malik died a death unbefitting a kid such as him but his death has only solidified my heart to this cause, do you not agree?" The reverends voice filled with a spark of strength, a spark that quickly spread.
"DEATH TO THOSE PIGS"
"WHO DO THEY THINK THEY ARE"
"lord have mercy on young Malik"
The voice of the crowd was filled with a range of emotion some sadness, others anger but all stemmed from one emotion, self loathing.
"Let us hold a sermon to the young Malik only than may he find peace with the gods, Marum"the reverend spoke softly before clutching his hands into a prayer
"Marum" spread around the crowd before landing in front of the old women. All eyes turned to her holding a look of expectance. The women could only look hatefully at the man before she murmured
"Marum"
- Chap end
Thank you guys for reading the first chapter. I'll post the first chapter of a book I've been thinking about for a long time to see how it would do. It's always been a dream of mine to write a book and hopefully spread my imagination to others. Again thank you for reading.