Fault //Line

If coal was just as rare as jade, would it be valued the same?

If a stone held a diamond within, but nobody ever saw it, would it be any better than a pebble?

If you were to cry out loud with all your might, but nothing changed, did you ever matter?

“Regardless of how I feel, I'm only a……”

Her dream is interrupted by a loud slam on a moonlit night, a young woman sits freshly awoken from what appears to be a short nap taken out of boredom.  Surrounding her are dark gray walls, old and creaky Chandeliers, a rusty door, and a large window portraying the wintry twilight landscape of the militaristic, Icy cold, and harsh Nation of Croix, a place that she's called home for all of her conscious life.  

Walking out of the door brazenly comes a tall man in a light gray uniform wearing a dark gray cap who begins to look at an old clipboard; after a breath he bellows “Number 411, you're up last. Is there a Number 411, Unakite…..19, Female?”

  After hearing the cold silence of the room be broken, the girl responds meekly “I'm here, that's me, Una is fine, I'd like to enlist for the cause.”  Her longer, braided hair and bronze complexion highlighted by the illumination of the moon from the hall's large windows, she stands from the now warm lobby chair.

 With an exhausted expression the tall, and now aggravated man motions the girl to come with him, leading her to a room much brighter than the lobby hall they had just been in, lacking decoration and color apart from one glowing red object in the shape of a hand.

  He adjusts himself before announcing “Alright, y’see that little relic over there? I want you to try moving it, in any way you think you can, quickly please.”  

Hesitant and slightly confused, Unakite attempts to lift the strange crimson object with her hand but to no avail, she next tries to move the individual “Fingers” that the red relic has but has no better luck than before.  Upon further inspection, she notices that the relic is warm to the touch much like an actual hand, and apart from that lacks any distinguishable features.

  After failing at moving the fingers, she feels as if she needs to grasp the hand, interlocking it with her own fingers; to her surprise this causes it to clasp her hand in response, eliciting a slight shock from the uniformed man standing in the corner.  

 After a moment, the hand begins to lose its glow, before turning a deep reddish-pink color and crumbling into dust, all while still clasping Unakites left hand.  

 The tall man says “So, you got it to move by grabbing it? Then by that logic this means you're branded.  Listen up, recruit you'd do well to remember this, those who are branded are able to do things normally thought to be impossible, they’re valuable assets to our nation and its mission, whether you've got a niche brand thats only good for lifting boxes, or a game-changer like Lady Anastasias.”

 Still watching the dust fall from her hand Unakite asks “So what does this mean for right now? I highly doubt I'm anything like our Lady, I've never fought seriously in my life, let alone been able to do the impossible.”  Upon inspecting the remains of the relic, the tall man reports to her “It looks like the relic turned into gravel, making you the Earth affinity by nature, although not the most ideal, I'd say anything is better than nothing, although do remember, while you're in Croix, the use of a brand is illegal, as per former Lord Lakes decree after his attempted assassination by a branded.

  Now, if you're done staring at your hands, I'll take your measurements, complete your pledge, and you'll be free to leave with the rest of the new recruits while the weather is still calm.”

 She responds with an uneasy look on her face “Yes sir.”

The man raises his right hand, seemingly devoid of his prior annoyance and exhaustion, from his left hand he uplifts a Croixian Seal, a golden cross with 3 points at every end and a blade at the bottom.

“Raise your dominant hand with pride, and repeat after me 411.”  Unakite lifts her left hand, now marked with a Reddish-Pink sigil in the image of a fractured eye.

The Tall man clears his throat and in a staunch manner he begins to recite the chant for the girl to follow

“From icy fields, to fiery depths, to deepest seas, and mountain crests, our reign will save us all.  In face of terror, blows and boulders, death will be but one cold shoulder, crush today for a future bolder…”

“Until all hell is frozen over.” Unakite recites without expression.

The girl finishes the pledge, maintaining her stance until the seemingly pleased man guides her to the examining room, listing down her physical measurements “5 feet 9 inches in Height, 124 in weight…” before sending her off to catch the last transport with the other recruits en route to basic training.

As she exits the gray lobby hall, she's met by a group of soldiers, they motion her towards a large wagon already filled with other enlistees before making their way to the front of the convoy.

Placing herself against the corner of the wagon, she surveys the people around her, most of them are asleep as it is late in the night and the journey to the grounds is about 6 hours by wagon, not accounting for blizzards or Disaster Beasts; extreme wildlife that in recent years has caused harsh destruction to humanity and the environment that they live in.  As Una tries to lull herself to sleep, she watches 3 vermillion birds flutter above her head, just within what she can view outside the wagon, a sight putting her at ease as she rests for a long journey.