The Powerless

Morning Blooms

     A yawn leaves your mouth as you wake up with a stretch. The place you've called home for so long is a quaint village. Nothing happens here. Nor nothing will.

At early ages, a person receives a title. As names were deemed useless. Along with that, genders were also deemed useless.

You are called The Powerless.

And it just so happens, today is the day you're supposed to get wings.

Of course, when a fae creature, such as yourself and everyone in this village, there's a day in their life when they get their wings. That day is a pretty big deal. Because you can do so many things, like fly, be able to join the army, get a job, become an apprentice, and your magic grows stronger. This could be the start of you having an ability and not being referred to as The Powerless.

You get up and stretch. The bed you sat on was made of twigs. With a single leaf as a blanket. Your feet hit the dirt floor. You slide to the other side of your room. Touching items. Searching for something. Your clothes. As you truly need to get out of these stiff pajamas. You'll take them to The Cleansing after the ceremony.

You pick up a new outfit, one which is specifically for the ceremony. You touch the black lace at the sleeves. The top was made out of a lilac. The purest one. You also picked out bluebell pants, the name suggested, you are quite literally wearing blue bells.

You walk out of your home. It was small. Shabby. The best that can be provided for someone without powers. But. It's your home.

You glance the the sky. The sun rising. Making a silhouette out of the trees. The blue hues mixing with the pinks and purples that aren't usually evident during all other parts of the day. A smile curls at the edge of your lips at the sight.

Though, before you can get your wings. You'll have to do a few things.

In the end. It'll be worth it. To have something to your name. Hopefully a legacy.

But. First. You'll have to go to the weapons shop and choose a weapon.

The Oracle and The Smith, who are long time partners, will of course, decide for you.

So you make your way there. Watching everyone go about their business. No one talking to you. Not yet.

When you get there, you tap about the door. A quaint smile across your face. The Oracle who wore what seems to be the night sky in the form of a dress, waves at you. Their eyes are milky white. As she is blind. Their hair flowing like a river till just about their waist. As black as death's hands. "The Powerless, we've been waiting for you. Are you still good at that game, darts?"

"Well, yes I am." You give a nod. That's one of the two reasons you got banned from the nearby bar. One, you were too good at the game. Two, you were underage at the time.

Another person walks in. It's The Smith. Their hair spiked up like fire, with red die to give it that look. They wore a armor crafted from a single dragon scale and bronze. They held a box. "Keep one on hand, and the rest hidden," Smith whispers.

"Display the one with green," the Oracle shushes. Your only concern was the payment method. As this is the most expensive establishment.

"What do I pay with?"

"It's on the house, son," Smith smirks.

You left. With a pit in your gut. Using a restroom. Taking their advice. A few things should be known about them.

1. no one ever denies their advice, as it will help you later in life.

2. They never charge it for nothing, unless you're important or will die before the day ends.

3. They almost never give advice that will break the rules.

They broke the last two things. This of course left a pit in your gut. A dark feeling inside you. Yet. You still hide the weapons.

What could possibly go wrong.