Chapter 1
The town square of District 7 had transformed into a swirling sea of tension, mirroring the atmosphere of a major battle about to unfold. This was the dreaded day, the Daemon Tribute. Ages ranged from 18 to 25, and the whole district had congregated for the grim selection process, a ritual that echoed with both unity and division among the young magicians.
The setting was a mix of ancient and modern—a massive screen loomed overhead, projecting the participants’ names in an eerie, glowing script. Enclosed by towering stone walls that seemed to stretch toward the sky, the square was brimming with anxious whispers and exchanged glances.
In a quiet corner, away from prying eyes, stood Amelia and Maxine. Both of them, with faces that revealed a mixture of anticipation and anxiety, were lost in a world of their own.
Amelia, the more delicate and timid of the two, was particularly reluctant. Her soft-spoken nature was at odds with the brutal reality of the Daemon Tribute. She looked at Maxine, her eyes pleading, “I don’t want my parents to see us like this...Just, I haven’t told them yet and you know how things are..” Amelia would say, there was shame in her voice, but Max responded passionately as Max always did.
Maxine, her strength a perfect complement to Amelia’s gentleness, understood her partner’s hesitation. She wrapped her arms around Amelia, drawing her close and pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I get it,” she whispered, “We’ll pick this up later.” Their love was a silent promise, an unspoken pact that fortified them against the impending trials of the Daemon Tribute.
As they shared this tender moment, the world outside seemed to fade away. For those few seconds, it was just the two of them, their hearts beating in unison, a promise of love that transcended their surroundings.
The world of their affection was a sanctuary, where they could momentarily forget the impending chaos of the Daemon Tribute. Maxine leaned in, her lips meeting Amelia’s in a soft, lingering kiss, a silent affirmation of their love.
But their reverie was abruptly shattered by the echoing sound of a magical explosion, reverberating through the square. The explosion was a summons, a powerful call that demanded the presence of all magicians at the center stage. With heavy hearts, Maxine and Amelia shared one final look, their eyes speaking of the love that anchored them to each other.
As they navigated through the bustling crowd to center stage, they were met with countless other pairs of lovers and friends, all facing the Daemon Tribute together. Maxine and Amelia joined the ranks, their hands tightly clasped, their determination unwavering. Their love, though hidden from the world, was a source of strength, an unbreakable bond that they carried with them into the harrowing trials of the tribute.
The town square buzzed with anticipation as the crowd gathered for the Daemon Tribute’s proceedings. The representative for District 7, a tall and stern figure, ascended the platform. His initial tone was respectful, his voice carrying a sense of solemn duty.
“Ladies and gentlemen, magicians of District 7,” he began, “We have gathered here today for the Daemon Tribute. As per tradition, this year’s event will be a complete battle royale, as it has been in the past. You have only three weeks to master your selected abilities, so it’s vital to allocate your time and points wisely.”
Maxine and Amelia, along with the rest of the district, listened intently. The stakes were high, and they knew that preparation was their only chance at survival.
The representative’s tone, initially measured, shifted dramatically as he continued, “You low-borns, who were sparked into this world by a mistake, dared to rise and attempt to overthrow his majesty. But, like the worms you are, the rebellion was quelled.”
His words grew more disdainful with each sentence, as he painted a picture of their kind as vermin and filth. The crowd stirred with anger, but none dared to speak out against the representative’s vile words. The weight of their oppression was inescapable, and the reality of their circumstances was a bitter pill to swallow.
The representative’s voice dripped with condescension as he continued, “You should count yourselves fortunate that you are allowed to keep your children at all. His majesty’s mercy is the only reason your kind has not been wiped from this land entirely.”
The people of District 7 remained silent, their heads bowed, their spirits weighed down by the disdain of the representative.
But finally, as the representative announced, “Tributes shall now be selected,” Maxine and Amelia shared a determined look. They knew that despite the hatred and oppression they faced, they had each other, and their love was a force that would carry them through the trials of the Daemon Tribute. It was a silent promise to defy the odds and emerge victorious, no matter the challenges that lay ahead.
As Rellius Redwood’s name was called, a wave of dread washed over him, visible in the pallor of his face and the trembling in his hands. He stood frozen amidst the crowd, and those who knew him instinctively moved away, unwilling to be associated with the doomed tribute.
Rell couldn’t hide the sheer horror etched across his face as the guards seized him from the throng and practically hurled him onto the stage. His gaze darted out to the crowd, filled with unfamiliar faces and unfeeling expressions. The collective indifference in the eyes of the onlookers was more terrifying than any show of hatred. He felt like a lamb led to the slaughter, facing an audience that neither knew nor cared about his existence.
Amid this chaos, Maxine let out a heavy sigh of relief, an unspoken prayer answered. It wasn’t her or Amelia who had been chosen. Her heart ached for Rell, but she couldn’t help the fleeting feeling of gratitude that she and Amelia had been spared.
Amelia, however, wore a crestfallen expression. “Oh no, they picked Rell,” she whispered in distress.
Maxine, leaning down to be closer to Amelia, inquired, “You know him?”
Amelia nodded, her sadness evident. “Yes, his mother was the town’s apothecary. They kept to themselves, and Rell was always very sickly,” she explained, her voice filled with a mixture of empathy and sorrow.
Maxine couldn’t help but notice Rell’s physical appearance. He kept his long black and silver hair draped over his face, obscuring his eyes. He was a quiet presence, nearly invisible, yet now thrust into the spotlight of the Daemon Tribute.
But in this moment, the world narrowed down to Maxine and Amelia, and the looming uncertainty of who would be called next. Their hearts raced with anxiety as the anticipation mounted. And then, as another name echoed through the square, the wonder of the moment took center stage. “Chadwin Grey!”
Chadwin’s name being called for the tribute sent shockwaves through his being. Panic and fear gripped him as he stumbled forward, feeling trapped in a nightmare. He had never anticipated being chosen, and the reality of his situation was unbearable.
His initial reaction was to fight off the guards who approached to seize him. He struggled, attempting to break free, but his futile cries for help fell on deaf ears. The crowd pretended he was nothing, their indifference a chilling reminder of his isolation.
Desperation drove Chadwin to seize one of the guard’s staff. Though unskilled in combat, his desperation fueled a surge of strength, and he instinctively discharged a bolt of magic from the device. It was a wild, uncontrolled blast, but it struck one of the guards, sending him sprawling to the ground.
Chadwin, fueled by a newfound sense of power and determination, aimed the staff at the announcer, ready to fire another bolt. He was on the verge of unleashing his magic, a defiant act of resistance. But before he could pull the trigger, an undeniable force and presence emanated from the announcer, halting him in his tracks.
The announcer’s gaze locked onto Chadwin’s, and with a single word, he commanded, “Enough.” The power in his voice was overwhelming, an absolute authority that seemed to radiate from the depths of his being.
Chadwin froze, the staff slipping from his trembling fingers. He was trapped, not just by physical restraints, but by an inexplicable force that had silenced his rebellion. In that moment, he realized the futility of resistance in the face of the Daemon Tribute and the true extent of the power that controlled their lives.
As the mysterious force emanated from the announcer, the impact rippled through the gathered crowd, affecting those who weren’t guards. The atmosphere grew heavy with an unspoken authority that seemed to push them to their limits. It was as if an invisible hand had taken hold of their souls, making them bow to an overwhelming presence they couldn’t comprehend.
Many villagers fell to their knees, their faces etched with fear and awe. Among them, Amelia was one of the first to succumb to the force. She found herself unable to stand, overwhelmed by the oppressive energy. Max, though barely, managed to remain on her feet, her gaze fixed on the scene unfolding before her.
Rell, however, appeared to be more shocked than affected by the unseen force. His eyes widened as he observed the chilling spectacle, a mixture of disbelief and apprehension on his face.
Max, barely managing to fight the force before it grew heavier, realized that something was wrong. The wave of energy seemed to pass through the crowd, and many villagers began to recover moments later, albeit with varying degrees of confusion and disorientation.
The announcer’s voice, filled with a chilling and unyielding authority, cut through the confusion. “This is what we will not be doing; it seems you people have learned nothing!”
In a horrifying turn of events, the announcer summoned a Daemon gate beneath Chadwin, who had been attempting to resist the process. The ground beneath him gave way, and he plummeted into the abyss.
“One for tribute, and two for mercy!” the announcer declared, his voice echoing with an unsettling finality. In an instant, two random people from the crowd met a grim fate, their lives extinguished without warning.
A sense of panic and terror swept through the area, sending a collective shudder of horror. But a chilling silence followed as the announcer’s words hung heavily in the air, a stark reminder of the merciless authority he wielded.
The shockwave of dread washed over the crowd as the announcer called out Amelia’s name. Horror etched itself onto the faces of both Amelia and Maxine. Amelia tried to respond but her voice failed her; all she could manage were small, gasped “I’m sorry” responses as the guards moved in to separate her from Maxine, who was desperately clinging to her, unwilling to let go.
In the crowd, Amelia’s parents stood in horrified disbelief, their faces contorted by the pain of seeing their daughter selected for the tribute. They exchanged anguished glances, contemplating joining the chaos but ultimately remained rooted to their spot, helpless witnesses to their daughter’s fate.
The announcer’s cold, unfeeling voice cut through the air, asking, “Do we have to have another example made?” It was a threat that hung heavy in the atmosphere, a cruel reminder of the power he held over their lives.
Amelia, however, couldn’t bear the thought of becoming another gruesome example. She tore herself away from Max, her heart pounding with fear and determination. Her breathless rush led her up the stairs to the stage.
She was nervous and flustered, her once well-kept deep red hair now a disheveled mess from the earlier events. The announcer peered down at her with disgust, and his words oozed malice. “A Rose, two of you in three years,” he sneered, “I almost pity taking two children from their parents, but oh well. Surely your father can find some fertile soil to plow and replenish the bloodline. I doubt your mother will recover from losing two children now...” He laughed evilly, a callous display of his sadistic delight in their suffering.
As Amelia’s eyes met with Max’s, she mouthed the words “I love you.” Maxine’s heart seemed to crush under the weight of the moment. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing Amelia, and the determination to keep their love alive overcame her.
“And the final name for tribute will be...” The announcer’s words were cut short as a defiant voice rang out through the crowd, “I volunteer!” The shockwaves of this unexpected turn rippled through the gathered villagers, leaving both the audience and the announcer himself momentarily stunned.
The announcer, his smirk fading into curiosity, inquired, “A volunteer? Well now, that just makes things more interesting. Why would you go and volunteer like that, hmmm?”
The guards, at the announcer’s beckoning, brought Maxine up to the stage. All eyes were on her—some knew why she had volunteered, some suspected, and others were simply horrified or shocked. Among the crowd, Amelia’s parents bore looks of disgust and shame, while others wore expressions of pride. Maxine paid them no mind. As she ascended the steps, her focus was entirely on Amelia, her love.
As Maxine took her place on the stage, she reached for Amelia’s hand. The two held hands, a silent yet powerful display of their unyielding love. With Rellius now on stage with them, the announcer began to list this year’s Daemon Tribute participants.
“This year’s Daemon Tributes are as follows: Rellius Redwood, Amelia Rose, and...” The announcer paused, turning to face Maxine. “What is your name?” he asked.
“Maxine Marigold,” she replied, her voice resolute.
The announcer joined in, “Maxine Marigold! Your fourth tribute this year.” His chortles filled the air as he turned to address the three of them. “You will most likely die on the first day, but unlike the coward who walked to his death, you three walked to your deaths faithfully. So I hereby allow you the team title: The Faithful Three. You are fighting tribute this year, but you have no one to blame but the dead tribute who attempted to rebel against our way.”
Amelia and Maxine’s hand-holding was a silent yet powerful statement of their love. Their fingers interlocked, a connection that defied the adversity surrounding them. Maxine held Amelia’s hand gently, offering both reassurance and a promise that they would face this challenge together.
However, Amelia couldn’t bring herself to look into the crowd. The mixed reactions from the onlookers—the boos, the applause, the questions—weighed heavily on her. Same-sex relationships were frowned upon in this district, and she had always been aware of the prejudice they faced. It was an embarrassment in the eyes of many, and the public display of their affection was met with a mix of approval and scorn.
The announcer’s instructions disrupted their moment, and he turned to face the three contestants. “You will have 30 minutes with your loved ones before you leave. I suggest you take it to say your goodbyes.” He motioned for the guards to escort them away.
They were taken to holding areas, where the conditions were far from ideal. The rat-infested space was not welcoming, but at least they were all together. The guards brought them there and left them to their own devices.
Amelia tried to engage in conversation with Rellius but found that he remained quiet, and withdrawn. He didn’t say much, and the weight of their impending ordeal hung heavily in the air.
For about an hour, silence prevailed. Maxine and Amelia embraced each other, their hearts heavy with the uncertainty of their situation. They tried to figure out how they could navigate the trials ahead.
Then, in an unexpected turn of events, a guard brought Rellius’ mother, Mrs. Redwood, and his little sister, Abigail, to the holding area to meet the group. “20 minutes starts now,” the guard announced before leaving them alone.
Amelia couldn’t help but ask, “Is my family coming too?” But the guard ignored her, simply slamming the door shut, leaving her with the uncertainty of her family’s absence in this critical moment.
Mrs. Redwood’s presence brought a momentary sense of warmth and comfort to the group. She greeted Amelia and Maxine with kindness, hugging her son tightly and apologizing for being unable to prevent his selection for the tribute. The love and comfort she offered him were palpable, her gentle words meant to boost his spirits.
Amelia and Maxine overheard the tender conversation between Rellius and his mother, and a hint of envy crept into their hearts. Affection was something that had been rare in their village, where many parents chose not to become attached to children who had such a grim fate. Mrs. Redwood was a rare exception, a beacon of kindness and love in their harsh world.
Rellius managed a smile as his mother handed him a small gift box, whispering something to him that was too soft for Maxine and Amelia to hear.
Mrs. Redwood then turned her attention to Maxine and Amelia, approaching both of them. Amelia, who had used Mrs. Redwood’s potions and remedies for healing since she was a child, welcomed her with gratitude.
Mrs. Redwood regretfully informed Amelia that her family wouldn’t be joining them. However, she offered her help to both Maxine and Amelia, should they allow it. Maxine was initially skeptical, questioning how she could assist them.
Mrs. Redwood explained that before the tributes left, they were allowed gifts and benefits to aid them in the upcoming battle. Typically, these gifts were expensive, and families paid for them. However, Mrs. Redwood had a different offer. She wouldn’t charge them for these gifts, instead asking only one thing: that they keep her son safe.
As Mrs. Redwood’s rituals just barely finished, they were gifted with special buffs that held the promise of help in the trying times ahead. With her parting, she left her son and the two women to prepare for their journey. Soon after, guards entered their holding area to escort them out of the cell and guide them to their transportation.
The road they were to take, known as the Paths, was fraught with great risks. Daemons had the luxury of traveling these treacherous routes in magic-fueled transports capable of housing entire homes, thanks to the magic that allowed things to be bigger on the inside. However, such devices were found only in Daemon communities, given the immense magical power required to sustain them. When the magic waned, these units had been known to implode on themselves.
They were loaded into a device that resembled the size of one of the outhouses Maxine commented on earlier. But once inside, the interior appeared vast, like a series of strange, linked carts or boxes. The announcer took the opportunity to inform them that they should feel honored to travel in such luxury, comparing it to royalty. He explained that the journey to the principal capital would take two days and suggested that they pray to whomever they believed in for mercy. With that, he retreated into a room and shut the door.
Now, they were alone, surrounded by uncertainty. Amelia and Maxine decided to leave in search of a room, leaving Rellius to find a spot to sit. As he settled in, he opened the gift his mother had given him and took out an intricately designed puzzle box.
The trio’s actions were a testament to their respective states of mind. Amelia and Maxine sought a private space, yearning to share a few moments of intimacy before the trials began. Rellius, on the other hand, focused on the intricate puzzle box, its enigmatic design captivating his attention, perhaps offering a much-needed distraction from the harsh realities of the Daemon Tribute they faced.
