Crown of Ashes and Starlight

A New Beginning

Some say that love is a choice. Some say its a feeling. Some even say its a curse. But me? I dont know what it is. I live in a world full of sacrifice and fear. A world where love is unknown. Unwanted. It is forbidden to even mention it, the penalty being banishment to the Terrastrates where love roams free and wild. Dangerous. Thats why we hide behind stone walls; they protect us from the evil that love brings. But even behind walls we are still in danger. Danger of the in-breeds; they are the people who are 'fortunate' enough to experience the Rouhe. After being discovered they are whisked away by the Product and are never to be heard of again. No one knows what happens to them. The Product wont tell us. They just say that its for the good of the country. And all that crap. The world I live in is called Arasthia. Arasthia is split up into sections. From the Prims, in the centre of it all, to the Mursa, on the outskirts. Im a Mursa and live in the very edge of the outskirts with my Mother. The Prims are the important rich folk; they live in the centre of Arasthia. Section 9R1M6. Their genetics are different to ours, they don't allow the host the ability to love. Theyre perfect in the products eyes. The Mursa however, are not. Our genetics are different, and we are despised and looked down on for it. Thats what makes us so unpredictable, unreadable. Dangerous. The government finds it hard to control us. To control our emotions. Our lives. Thats why we're here, in this hell hole we call home. The fear keeps us tame, keeps us from rebellion. The Product has a tight grip on us, sometimes so tight its almost suffocating.

Supreme Guards line the streets, their faces covered with black veils, guns and other deadly weapons strapped to their backs. A reminder to the Mursa to keep in order. Even without them here the Mursa wouldnt try anything. Were all too afraid to act against the Product again. There have really only ever been two rebellions, the first one hadn't made much of a difference. It only caused the death of hundreds of innocent Mursa. The second had been 3 years ago, led by the infamous criminal Kairon. It wasnt really a rebellion. More like an escape. Kairon had stolen the records for the subjects scheduled to be taken to the Product, delaying their arrival to Product Central and successfully evacuating them out of Arasthia. The scandal had been roughly patched up by poor excuses. Saying that the escapees hadn't survived the trip and that they had let them go of their own will and blah blah blah. No one knew who this Kairon was; no one even knew what he looked like. The rumours that have gone round have only ever been of old ghost stories saying that he was from another land, his genetics of nothing they had ever known or seen. They had said that if you so much as looked upon his face you would be turned, son finding yourself racing to the wall. Of course I didnt believe in any of that nonsense. I hadnt reached that level of madness yet.

Breathing in a shaky breath I continued to shuffle my way through the crowd of Mursa folk. My hand instinctively reached down to grasp the smooth metal butt of the gun hidden under my dirty grey jacket. I tugged at the old matted material, pulling it closer around my petite form, trying to eradicate the shivers that wracked my body. It did little to stifle the bitter cold, but I revel in the small warmth it provides for me. The body heat from the bustling Mursa also helps to rid the bite of winter. It was close to curfew and everyone was eager to get home, only delaying if needed. Their movements were stiff and rigid as they made their way home, almost robotically, not wanting to give the Product Guards a reason to prey on them. I wrapped my arms around my torso, shivering as a chill breeze blew right through my bones.
Picking up my pace I turned this way and that down the windy cobble path before slipping away through dark alleyways until I reached the electric fence surrounding our Section. Grabbing at the rubber gloves skilfully hidden in the side of a collapsed, uninhabitable building I slipped them on before grasping hold of the fence, carefully manoeuvring my way through the small gap. Ripping the gloves off, I hide them amongst the tall grass, weaving them amongst the blades, skilfully hiding the dirtied yellow. Ducking my head I dropped down to a crouch, my body hidden behind the tall, brown blades and I began to make my way to the thick wood.