The rays of sunlight glistened across Mona's face. As the whole facility lacked a roof, the desert sun was able to awaken all of the cellmates one by one. It wasn't that the Alberdan Empire ignored the possibility of prisoners escaping through the air. The various anti-aircraft towers and multitude of Alberdan Auric manipulators in the facility, coupled with the Swarm Creation gave them the right to not care.

Besides, the facility was frequented by many Alberdan troops that came in squadrons back and forth from the motherland. The prison functioned also as a storage base and headquarters for a portion of the Alberdan Army. Although Leafwind had fallen, the enemy would first have to ensure the land was under their control, smiting any resistance. Even though Leafwind was a rather small nation, it would still take quite a bit of time before Alberdos can officially add Leafwind as another province in its empire.

Of course, such time compared to owning complete access to the Eshwinian Highlands, where treasure was bountiful, was well worth it. Such a reputable treasure cove was one of the many reasons why the peaceful nation was attacked.

And when Alberdan intelligence found the majority of nobles that reigned power in that important region was gathering for a celebration, only the Alberdan war strategists could understand such joy.

And now those nobles that survived the raids had largely been transferred to Alberdos as war captives. The final batch of nobles was being "processed" in Darkthorn Prison, a renovated facility disposed by the Leafwinders themselves. The irony of Leafwinder nobility being imprisoned in what was once their own prisons was quite amusing among several Alberdans.

Mona's hand covered his eyes, trying to fend off the sheer strength of the sun's rays as he opened his eyes. Throughout the night, his body had shivered from the cold, and the pillows were in no way comfortable. The contrast between night and day, luxury and imprisonment, had weakened his confidence.

His nape facing the sun, Mona looked towards the cell wall, the bleak situation a reality. His body felt rigid, and it took him quite some time to move to a sitting position.

The other three, on the other hand, were already up. Aeron was taking his time eating the slice of bread from yesterday. Mona felt confused by the bread, as it had no signs of aging in the open, dirty cell. He didn't know if Aeron would get food poisoning.

Mithal bowed to Mona, "Thank you again for storing us a portion." His voice was distinct, and had a hint of gratitude. Although the two former nobles rarely met, they both understood the ways of a noble in what was Leafwinder's society, and how it was easy for one to be taken advantage of. Especially in a situation as terrible as theirs.

Mona nodded in reply, his gaze on Reithar. He had taken off his prison top and sat on the bed after doing several bouts of exercise. His breathing slowed down. Apparently he was following some rhythm in his exercise. Their gazes met soon after, a smile given in return.

The four fellows were silent on the bed, contemplating in silence. Suddenly, Aeron's hands clenched his stomach. His face turned green, and he ran towards the cell's toilet, vomiting his share of yesterday's bread. He sat back down again, slightly depressed.

"Sigh..." Aeron's lamented. It was still the second day. Could he make it through the entire 3 weeks this way?

Mithal, upon seeing Aeron shuffle towards the toilet had quickly thrown his share through the cell wall. No one liked food poisoning.

"Seeing as how we are in the same cell, and given the circumstances, I'd like to ask you two..." Mona's kept his voice at just above a whisper, so as not to alert the routine appearance of Alberdan guards. "how far have both of you gone in Auric training?" Mona finished his question, awaiting their replies.

After giving it a thought, Mona decided to work with the other two cellmates. They neither provoked nor attacked Mona, and he felt no reason not to help them. Having allies could turn useful in this mess. The two may even later return their gratitude. So why not?

"I have reached Mortal rank level 4 before our capture," Aeron's voice lingered near, "as for my brother Mithal, he had reached level 8. We trained in Lancing to the same levels." After turning to look towards his brother for approval, and upon receiving a nod told Mona. Although they seemed a bit cautious to Mona, he understood that over time they would likely accept him.

He was a bit surprised that the two had trained in Lancing, as such an Art would be domineering, yet quite exhausting to train. Chances were their bodies were fine tuned by such an Art, especially Mithal. Out of all of them, Mona knew he had the best chance of leaving during the first testing period.

The testing was based on body composition and Auric ability. After the Alberdan Army had passed out training techniques, the various apprehended individuals would be given a means of getting out of their fate. By training in these methods, they would be separated into various talents.

Those that reached the upper Mortal level in the Auric technique, or the levels seven through nine, in their first week would be carted off to the Alberdos Kingdom to serve as guards for various aristocrats and wealthy merchants in Alberdos. They had the best chance of survival.

Those that reached the upper levels in their second week would be shuffled to war fronts. Although lacking a bit of talent, they were perfect for fighting in the skirmishes between Madrag and Alberdos. Their chances of renouncing their slavery would be more difficult.

As for the many that reach the minimum in their third week, they would become servants for various individuals in crafts such blacksmithing, gem cutting, and more. Indentured servitude with almost no upward mobility, their payments would be meager unless they mastered their craft, Arts protected by their masters.

And the remaining people in the fourth week, if they are still living past the hunger and disease, would serve as slave labor, or entertain the desires of their buyers. In here did Reithar's fears for his sister lie.

Of course, Mona knew that the best scenario was to leave in the first week. But could he? Given his predicament, chances were he would become someone's slave. He shuddered at the thought of becoming part of someone's nightly pleasures. Also, the techniques given by the Alberdos army were questionable.

Maybe the others didn't know, but Mona knew with his readings the existence of technique rankings. He knew that using Auric techniques of lower quality would limit achievements, especially those of Mortal rank. Such a method would be acceptable at the Mortal ranking, but breaking through beyond Mortal would be exceedingly difficult.

An Emperor ranked technique, on the other hand, could catapult the worst Auric trainers quickly through the levels. Their rarity was legendary, and even suggesting the Alberdos Army gave them such techniques would be ludicrous.

Also existing were technique with "side-effects" that ranged from pain to even death. There even existed techniques when trained would result in the Auric manipulator to lose his free will. Such an Auric training method was useful for controlling...slaves.

Mona knew all his thoughts were largely based on what Reithar had told him. He hesitated at asking for the training technique of the Aeron and Mithal brothers. For all he knew, it could be stringent or even related to one's bloodline. After probing the two, it was clear that such a technique was reserved for their bloodline only.

But to take a chance with them...that's insane. If the technique took away one's choice of action, wouldn't Mona and Reithar be nothing more than dolls when those "side effects" are activated? But maybe the only way to see the next waning crescent moon was to take a chance on their enemy.

Mona looked towards Reithar, his thoughts on Reithar's well-being. They had to take that chance.

Mona's voice dropped to a whisper, "Reithar and I will train in the techniques being given by the Alberdos soldiers. Both of us will aim to reach the upper levels as soon as possible. Given that they want us to do so, it may seem that we are playing into their hands." Aeron and Mithal's faces turned grim. They understood that Mona and Reithar would have to take these measures.

"Wait? We are going to what?" Reithar looked towards Mona, confused. Why would they become pigs for a slaughter?

"Give me a minute," Mona replied, "by doing this, we may be able to escape through those means. Think about it. If we manage to join the groups of the three means, we will have sub-citizen status, but that is far better than slave status." His words were agreed with among them.

"Also, even if we are sent into, say, the third group, there is still a good chance of moving up. Life is full of opportunities, and there might be a chance of exchanging that for citizenship status. From what I remember, to move up in citizen status, one simply has to do great merits for Alberdos..."

Everyone felt disdain beating in their hearts. Who would help someone after being imprisoned by them?

"Or we can simply enter the noble class. At that point if need be we can remove our past if needed." Mona's voice grew cold as he muttered those last lines.

And I can repay their actions tenfold. A shred of revenge flickered in Mona's eyes.

The other's grumbled at the choices. The outcomes were bleak. Sure there were opportunities, but how often do they come?

"Also, Aeron, Mithal, I need to ask you something." Mona returned his gaze to the two brothers. I need to ask them.

"I would like us all to remain as a group. Given what we are in, numbers can be powerful. If we are careful we could grow in might in secret. Perhaps we could even leave. Of course, I am asking you two to help me with my Mortal Curse as I train. In return...I'll owe a favor if I live." Mona kept his voice calm, watching the movements of Aeron and Mithal.

Aeron immediately looked towards Mithal. He was obedient to his older brother, the only family he had left since the attack in the Aurum Manor. He trusted his brother with his life.

Mithal looked at Mona, no one able to tell what were his thoughts. They knew Mona had the Mortal Curse, an extremely rare disease that prevents humans from practicing Aura, crippling the mightiest of bloodlines with a swift death. But they also knew Mona was from the Aurum bloodline.

They were of a noble bloodline also, except of a lesser level. Their families were less reputable, their connections fewer. It wouldn't be odd to find traces of the Aurum bloodline in Alberdan and Madrago politics. Their bloodline would be difficult to even open a small gift shop in a city of either of those countries.

But if we fail... Mithal's thoughts were quick and thorough. "Alright. What do we need to do?" He replied back to Mona, his attention given.

If we don't try and regret it...then we failed. Mithal was willing to bet on this child. His mother had urged him to befriend Mona long ago. At times called an eccentric and at times prophetic, she was able to depict the demise or rise of many people. And in Mona she found a star waiting to cast its brilliance on all of existence.

The child that gave rise to a never seen change in the Aurum cloak, his silhouette akin to an emperor gazing upon the moon, awash in its light. Such a figure, although it may have been an illusion, had taken the ability to speak from many in the Aurum manor's great hall.

If this succeeded, then they could expect nothing less of a meteoric rise. If they failed, they would lose nothing in the process. After all, Mona was only asking oddly for Aura to be infused with Aura. Such a thing was the weakest form of Auric healing. It was not a way to cure the Mortal Curse, or at least Mithal thought so.

"When I train, I need both of you to infuse your Aura into my back, above the shoulder blades. Of course, we need to do this in secret at night to prevent the guards from sensing through their own Auras. Also, you need to do it slowly so the Aura cannot be seen. It will take quite a while." The two listened attentively, watching as Mona revealed the areas in his shoulder blades, and nodded.

What if the cloak...? Mona's thoughts drifted back to that incident in the Aurum manor. It was deeply imprinted in his mind, as if it he was born with the memory.

"Also, I may need you to help me during the first distribution of meals in the day." Mona turned his gaze to the outer enclosure. Guards were unlocking cells with their Aura, with the various individuals going down metal staircases towards the food distribution area.

In the center of the yard stood a cauldron and a table of the bread the quartet had eaten before. The bread seemed to be cloned, each bread identical to the barely edible loaf next to it. Guards stood near the food and the server.

Each person was given a bowl of what was coming from the simmering cauldron and a loaf of bread. The first arrivals received their bowl and bread and walked out of the line, sitting on the ground a fair distance away. Further away, guards were eating with luxury. Their bowls had actual soup, and not slop made from scraps. In fact, even their bread slices seemed to be of several higher grades, white and puffy.

Soon after several dozen persons had sat down, one individual moved towards another, throwing out demands for his share. The recipient of his words was an older fellow whose body seemed as if it would sway with the lightest breeze. The old man denied giving up his food.

What followed was the old man being thrashed, his nose bloody and his arm broken. He hurriedly surrendered his remaining soup and bread, then limped away from the groups, his hands working hard to stop the bleeding.

The fellow stealing food soon went to other fellows, collecting their food also. The crowds watched on as he ate the servings of the old man and other fellows. Others followed in suit, roughhousing with any dissenters for a larger meal.

Eventually, groups formed of fellows, all to either steal and defend meals from one another. The guards watched, grinning at the affair. It wouldn't be insane to think they planned this all along. Only when someone died did the guards act to inspect the murderer. If the person had weak innate talent, then they were beheaded. If the opposite was true, their lives were saved.

Such a system prevents unity and encourages bloodshed... Several lines appeared on Mona's forehead.

Aeron and Mithal understood. In exchange for Aura infusions and acting as bodyguards, they would earn a favor from Mona. But if they died? Mithal continued forward irregardless. Dying could be considered a release from having no freedom in Alberdos.

"We understand. I hope that when you are able to stand free...you allow us to follow along." Mithal spoke back towards Mona, getting a nod in return. Aeron's gaze never left the bleeding fellows. Couldn't all the thieves be surrounded... He didn't share his ideas.

Reithar sighed at the sight of fighting. Bloodshed inspired bloodshed. Bloodshed and greed destroyed his life. He knew all too well such factional fighting was to divide them and separate "good seedlings" from "bad apples."

Guards walked along cells, their Aura transmitting into both their assigned Creation and the jail cells. They were prepared for revolting captives trying to escape.

Eventually they reached Mona's cell. The guard seemed similar to the other guards, outfitted in what was partially armor and clothing. Along his right arm was a deep slash, a scar that extended from his upper arm to his wrist.

Reithar's blood slackened at the gash in this guard's arm. What could cut into the arm of a Warrior leveled practitioner to such a level?

The guard was a bit suspicious at the four men seated symmetrically on their beds. What were they doing? He couldn't say. His Aura deactivated the cell's locking Creation. Brandishing his weapon, he gestured for the four to march out of the cell.

Unlike the guards that brought Mona to the cell who jeered at his existence, this guard cared little whatsoever. He only followed Mona for one reason.

Usually when cellmates are arranged, the weakest member is beaten heavily to assert dominance. But here, the fellow with the Mortal Curse seemed to be leading. Such a strange occurence raised his cautiousness.

But then he realized something, inwardly laughing at himself. It's probably these former nobles sticking to old traditions. It hasn't become clear to them what is happening, it seems.

After all, who would believe a mortal leading Aura manipulators?