7 Fell Rebirth (1/2)
Lukas' life was a tedious one. Born in the slums of Ostria, capital of the eponymous viscounty, from the age of seven he toiled to feed his mother and little sister. The Kingdom of Orloth split commoners into four classes. From lowest to highest: peasants, artisans, merchants, and managers.
Peasants were those that farmed the land—land they didn't own—or hunted on grounds they still had no right to. At the end of the year, they all had to make an inventory of their gains and pay two taxes, 35% to their lord-master, and another 35% to the state, leaving them 30% to consume. Needless to say, their life was an arduous one. If not for Dra lessening food requirements, the majority would starve.
Artisans and merchants faced lower income tax levels, 32 for artisans, and 30 for merchants. But because only nobles could own land, they still had a ”lord-master” to pay taxes to.
Above were the managers who, as the name implied, administered large businesses and industries for the aristocrats owning them. Because of their unique status, they only had 25% state taxes to care about, enabling them to accumulate wealth across generations, and slowly set themselves apart from the rest of the commoners. Yet, commoners they still were.
Those were the four registered categories. But below them all, a fifth existed: the iniquitous.
The iniquitous were the bottom of the food chain, those with no registered or dignified source of income. Beggars, thieves, cripples, slaves, prostitutes all belonged to this rank. Lukas' family had been managers for generations. Although their wealth couldn't compare to their noble masters, they still made a good living.
Unfortunately, his father was a gambling-addicted drunk that sank them all into ruin. Having no other choice, Lukas learned to pickpocket, surviving on petty larceny. Thievery was punished by denailing on the first offense, fingers slicing on the second one, and hand cutting on the third...if a third there was.
Hence, law forced thieves to become highly skilled. Lukas survived the craft with just one instance of denailing. But as in many other cases, thief income soon proved unable to sustain the house, leading him into seeking the help of disreputable felons. One thing led to another, and at 12, Lukas ended up the new recruit of an assassin cult: the Desolate Knife Cult.
Across four years, he trained in their killing arts, revealing impressive magical talents he kept concealed from his loved ones. A Lesser Emissary at 16, he started taking assassination tasks, and two years later, was one of the best of his promotion.
Becoming a Lesser Emissary was no mean feat and ensured he could immediately receive a nobility title. But to say nothing of the cult's retaliation, commoners were not allowed to grow as magi. If they ever revealed magical talents, the government would give them two choices:
1) Forsake their relatives for arcane training.
2) Die!
Naturally, most chose the former.
Little did Lukas expect that his rotten luck would turn even worse. Against all logic, he received the task to slay the viscount's only son!
It was a trap. The task ended horribly, with six Lesser Templars lying in ambush. The average Lesser Templar might not be a match for a Lesser Emissary, but the gap was marginal. After all, Lesser Emissaries were quite limited in spell-casting and incantation speed.
Still, Lukas managed to escape the ambush and return with his life—a terrible move. The cult blamed the failure on his incompetence, disemboweled him on the spot, and offered him in sacrifice to summon a Fehl Daemon!
Aggrieved!
He felt so aggrieved!
But as the sacrificial fire burned him to ashes, he knew grievances alone wouldn't change his fate. His final thoughts went to his sister and mother, who—at best—would starve in his absence.
What a lousy life.
Lukas' flesh burned to ashes, leaving behind an unblemished skeleton around which Dark Magic swirled.
Unlike what many believed, Dark Magic had nothing to do with Fehl Magic. It was a self-destructive art that thrived on madness and negativity. Rage, sorrow, hatred, sacrifice, insanity, those were the types of forces that powered Dark Magic. Thus, though quite potent, it held virtually no appeal to those high-ranking nobles.
Naturally, the government heavily regulated it. This didn't stop occultists and all manners of warlocks from practising it in the shadows. For non-fehl magi, Dark Magic Rituals were the only ways to summon Fehl Daemons.
Lukas aside, the barbecued skeletons of 65 other teenagers lay in the room, resting on burning stone altars of nefarious magic, and filling the scene with a horrid, repulsive stench. All fehls had one thing in common—their favorite number—six.
Six, 66, 666, in any fehl related ritual, the sacrificial offering must ring six. That was the rule. But those people didn't understand. Even as they kneeled toward Lukas' skeleton, the primary offering of the event, even as they rattled off occult chants, raised their arms in a pious display and kowtowed with zeal, they didn't understand.