Chapter 7
Office of Central Administration.
Sattoriya, Tartareia.
It is noisy. Far too noisy.
The courtyard of the Central Administration building is full of those hopeful applicants, waiting for the exam to begin, and praying to get a spot in their desired department.
To my disappointment, I am also one of those hopefuls. After all, it is the only position that will allow me a modicum of independence.
The Central Administration is the only governmental body in Tartareia that does not answer to any of the Houses, and thereby that makes it the most objective one.
Due to my birth, I was expected to take my exam at the Administration office of the House of Jubal. But with my mother being there as well, that is out of the question.
It has been over a thousand years since I have last been alone with her in the same room—something deliberate on my part.
Despite her ardent desire to see me dead, which has probably festered over the years, she cannot do anything out in the open.
Cursed or not cursed, I am still a member of a noble family—a potential Son of Tenebreis, considering my pedigree—which means she would be punished if she tried to harm me.
Not only would she be prosecuted for harming another immortal, but she would also gain the ignominy of trying to kill her own son.
It is still a wonder how she managed to cover up father’s death, or how anyone believed he had been killed in a hunting accident.
At the time, I was too young to know better, and I had tried to go to the elites in the House of Jubal and report her crime. But it had gotten nowhere, especially since it was my mother’s word against mine, and hers held more weight.
Yet that faux pas cost me. Whereas before, people were barely aware of my existence, afterward, the rumors started swirling around.
Jealousy. Frustration. Delusion.
Because of my status on the registry and my lack of abilities, I was not only dismissed, but also ridiculed. My brother too, who had always been nice to me, started treating me coldly.
And if the Duke of v’Kyro gave you the cold shoulder, it was a sign that everyone else should, too.
And so started my self-imposed exile. Luckily my father left me my home, otherwise I don’t know how I would have survived.
The magical runes guarding it are an additional level of safety against my mother—although she never bothered to come looking for me.
But now… My clock is ticking.
My birthday is fast approaching, and the spiritual energy my father transferred to me will disappear, as will my protective shield.
I have looked far and wide for someone to help me cultivate, but no one would dare go against an edict from the Lord Supreme.
The moment they realize why my own spiritual energy is bound, they disappear.
The books have not been of much help either.
In less than a month, I will truly be on my own.
Which is why I am here. Ready to take this exam.
If I become a public servant, I will have another added layer of protection.
Since I do not possess any functional spiritual energy, my only hope is in the administrative sector.
This is the home of all those high born immortals that do not make the cut for the more sophisticated positions, such as the military—the pinnacle of an immortal’s existence.
With Tartareia always at war, outside and inside, being a warrior is the most celebrated position there is. But only the most accomplished immortals are allowed in.
A pang erupts in my chest.
At one point, I wished nothing more than join the military and become a celebrated warrior. It would be the perfect fuck you to my family—I would be both strong and beloved by the people of Tartareia. No one would look at me as a harbinger of death then.
Alas, that will never be more than a dream. As long as I avoid getting myself killed, I will be satisfied. After all, I owe it to my father to live, just as he asked me to. And for his sacrifice, I will not give up. No matter what.
I take a deep breath as I asses my surroundings.
After so long living in isolation, being among so many people is a little unnerving. Not only does the noise make me anxious, but social interaction is not something I am good at—or something I want to be good at.
To my left and right, there are groups of males and females chatting animatedly about what they think might be on the exam sheet. They are exchanging names and planning to meet after the exam to celebrate. The cliques are already forming.
My lips curl up in distaste as I step away from the noise. There is a quiet spot under a hofra tree next to the surrounding fence that leads to the main road. Almost everyone is gathered to the front of the exam building, waiting with bated breath for any announcement.
I just wish for this to be over.
Get in. Take the exam. Get out.
Then I can head to the mortal district in search of a book I have not been able to find anywhere else in Tartareia.
A spark of excitement flashes in my chest.
Now that is something I am truly looking forward to.
I remove my watch from my blazer and check the time. The exam should start soon.
“I have not seen you around. Who’s your family?”
It takes me a moment to realize someone is speaking to me.
Turning to my right, I blink as I take in three males staring at me intently.
“You are talking to me?” I ask, just to make sure.
The one in the middle barks out a laugh.
“Do you see anyone else around?”
I look right and left, and indeed, there is no one else around the little spot I have chosen for myself. In fact, for a moment resentment claws at me at the fact that they’ve disturbed my peace.
Gazing back at them, I give them a nod, hoping they would get the message and leave me alone.
“You did not answer me. What family are you from?” The same male repeats.
“Patas, leave it,” another murmurs in a low voice.
“What? This prick thinks he’s better than us, doesn’t he?” He says angrily and before I know what’s happening, a blast of energy hits me in my foot.
I yelp in pain, while the others burst into laughter.
Pressing my lips together, I square my shoulders and stand up to leave. The last thing I want is a conflict when I am supposed to avoid all trouble.
“What? No answer? Nothing?” Patas asks mockingly.
Can they not find another person to mess with? Why did they have to set their eyes on me?
I mutter a curse under my breath as I scan the courtyard for another isolated spot. But just as I move further away from them, the first male, Patas shouts.
“What did you say? Do not be a coward and say it to my fucking face!”
Another blast of energy burns off the hem of my coat. I startle, and my hands immediately seek to put out the fire.
It is the only coat I own, and with the cold weather setting in, I cannot afford to lose it.
“Look at him.”
“So pathetic.”
They continue to talk about me, and from the corner of my eye, I can see Patas’ smug expression.
But my desperate attempts to salvage my coat are not lost on them.
“He’s probably from an impoverished family. That is why he would not talk,” Patas snickers.
The others readily agree.
I walk faster, this time towards of the crowd in an attempt to lose them.
The last thing I need is to draw attention to myself. My mother still does not know I am applying to be a public servant, and if she gets wind of it before I get a position, she might use her influence to ensure I never get one.
Wading through a couple of groups of people, I reach the center of the courtyard, and I breathe out a sigh of relief when I cannot see the three males around.
I glance down at my coat, my lips flattening in annoyance when I see the extent of the burn. It is still wearable, but it will not provide as much protection as before. There is a tear running up to my waist, and some of the wool filling of the coat has already been burnt off.
Damn it.
With no spiritual energy whatsoever, I cannot regulate my body temperature as well as others do.
Winters in Tartareia are extremely rough for most people, but especially for mortals—and despite my heritage, I am closer to one than I am to an immortal.
If I am to start my position soon, then I will need a new coat.
It was fine before, when I did not go out at all. My house has heating wards, so I do not need to worry about that at least.
I close my eyes briefly as I do a short calculation of my budget.
Although my father left me some money, it’s been over almost two thousand years since he passed. Even with me stretching that money as much as I could, it was bound to run out.
I was planning to buy a volume of the Adventures of Hippo, my favorite novel. It was why I wanted to go out to the mortal district to seek it out. But I suppose I will have to postpone that now and instead invest in a new coat.
Perhaps I can still go, pretend to browse the books and read the first chapter? I wonder if that is permissible.
I release another sigh. I had been looking forward to that story for months, and now I will have to wait more.
But it will all change once I get a job. Government positions pay well, and they should be enough for me to live comfortably for the rest of my rather pathetic existence.
I guess those males were right on that account.
I am rather pathetic, am I not? The brother of the current Duke of v’Kyro and I have to count my coins because I may not have enough to last me until the end of the year.
As more time passes, the courtyard fills until there’s barely enough space to move around. There are thirty-seven available positions for this round of applications, and looking around me, I reckon there are more than five hundred applicants ready to fight for one of those spots.
That makes my resolve that much stronger.
These people are all from prominent families. Even those coming from lower social standing still have enough money to never go hungry.
Me, on the other hand? This is my only chance to make something of myself.