Black Rose

Prologue

I was born in a world where, technically speaking, I shouldn't be possible. The things I do shouldn't be possible. Yet here I am, 17 years of age, and still perfectly possible. This is the story of how a few words brought my life crashing down on my shoulders - along with the whole world's perception of possible.

A few years ago, I would have scoffed at the thought of possessing magic. It just wasn't possible. Us non-bloods didn't possess any trace of magic. We were just the bottom social latter, forced to do the work of the elites. Nobody wanted to listen to the snobby elites, let alone have to follow their orders, but we had to obey. The elites were much more powerful than us, not just money-wise or political-wise, but they had raw strength of a magus. They were able to bend the elements to their will, making them an invincible opponent to the non-bloods. They could kill us with a flick of a finger and not leave a trace behind. But here I am, surrounded by the most powerful elites, stuck under a tunnel.

The musty tunnel air seemed to take a grasp of our soldiers as we marched the darkness. Light could have been easily manifested by one of the magi, but we were strictly told not to: Incase the enemy noticed the small surge of power underneath them. Although our strongest magi could have covered up the surge, our enemy had stronger magi that would soon sense it.

As we marched, small murmurs echoed off the tunnel walls but were quickly silenced by the glares that flew in every direction. The magi up front had grim looks on their faces like they were trying to calculate the possibility of us winning. We were told by the earth elementalists that the tunnel would lead us right underneath the palace of the enemy kingdom, Haethon Hall. Nobody knew how long we had been marching for, or for how much longer. It could have been hours or even days. We barely stopped to eat, and when we did, we were scarcely fed at all. After what seemed like hours, we had arrived at the pre-made bunkers. They didn't tell us the time, but we assumed it was mid-noon. The plan was to attack Haethon Hall, about a 4-hour walk from our current location, at midnight. We directed to eat and sleep until then.

Our soldiers marched into the dark bunker, faintly lit by mechanical candles, and were directed towards the baren, makeshift mess hall. We were fed a more filling meal (even though it was still barely anything) compared to the other meals; we were to fight tomorrow. The meal consisted of cold chicken broth, chunky black beans, and a stale chunk of bread. Towards the beginning of the war, they also provided something sweet, but as the war dragged on, it wasn't deemed as a necessity compared to the dying men and the falling economy. Moreover, the non-bloods had been on the verge of a rebellion, tired of the everlasting war and the cruelties they suffered under the elites, which the elites denied furiously. Either the elites didn't want to admit it or they were truly oblivious of the lives of non-bloods. Deep in thought, I didn't even realize someone had sat down next to me. She looked concerned for a second before returning to her cheerful self.

"Hullo Alaska. Earth to Alaska." She said, waving her hand in front of my face. I snapped back to reality and looked at the girl. Realizing it was Lola, I couldn't help but grin at her. Lola had a special way to make everyone around her happier. She was just a happy-go-lucky girl stuck in this war, which sometimes I deeply regretted. Lola Caeli had been my best friend since four years ago when we met at the Royal Academy of Magi. Back then, she had been one out of two who approached me and talked to me. She was neither scared nor arrogant to me. She believed that I would soon learn to control my powers and never doubted me. She is the reason I stayed alive all those years at the Academy.

"Lola." I said solemnly.

"You better eat up. You barely touched your food." She said, concerned. I mumbled something as I began to wolf down the food on her command. Though the food was terrible, I scarfed it down hungrily. The food contained special biotics made with magic that made us stronger and gave us energy for a longer time. We also carried the biotics with us in pill-form just in case we ever needed it during battle or for an emergency.