∞ | Chapter 1 | ∞

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∞ | Grudges are for those who insist that they are owed something; forgiveness, however, is for those who are substantial enough to move on. - Criss Jami, Salome (In Every Inch In Every Mile) |

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∞ | Chapter 1 |

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In this world, there are two types of beings – the Gifted and the Non-Gifted.

No one really knows how the Gifted gained their powers – their Gifts. It has been an old, ancient belief that the Ancient Ones – the Ancient Gods gifted their chosen ones; their descendants, the Gifts they possessed. From there, those descendants passed down their abilities to their descendants, and so on.

But at some point in history; most probably after one too many wars waged by Eldario, the Gifted were soon feared for their powers, particularly as the vast majority of the Gifted were drafted into Eldario's army to wipe out their enemies.

They were feared. Hated. Spat upon.

The fear and perhaps envy by the Non-Gifted spread like a disease. And soon, there is a fine line drawn amongst the citizens of Eldario. New laws were drafted up; none of them fair to the Gifted.

The Gifted were forced to declare their status and their abilities to the High Council and the Eldario Sovereign Agency – the ESA; the country's law enforcers. Those who declared soon found themselves out of a job and evicted from their homes. Families with the Gifted ones turned on them.

Out of desperation, the Gifted formed their own community. Several even retreated underground; doing whatever they could just to survive.

Come to think of it, all the troubles that we have faced and gone through; and even what we did are all due to the actions of our predecessors.

And I wonder, if things had been different, would we have done things differently?

~Extract from Diary of Laura O'Boyle

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Zephys, eastern continent of Eldario; November 230

"I said, unhand me!"

A small girl of about fifteen with dark hair and unusual white eyes was flailing about in the hold of one of the men; struggling to get free. Not too far away from her, with his face pressed against the gravelled ground was a boy of similar age and appearance, being pinned down by two other men.

"Silence, wretch!"

The sound of a slap echoed around the alleyway that they were in.

"You both are Gifted, aren't you?" One of the men holding down the boy demanded, never releasing his hold. "Freaks!"

"Let go of me!" The boy growled as best as he could with half his face being pinned to the ground.

"Shut up!" The man holding onto the girl finally lost his patience with all the struggling the two children are doing. He whipped out a dagger from his back pocket and held it close to the slender neck of the young girl who froze at feeling the metal on her skin. "One more word out of either of you, and I'll slit your throat!"

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