"Marius," his mother's voice echoed in his mind, a familiar refrain. "The road to hell is paved with good intentions."
The duchess's words hung heavy in the air, her disapproval as powerful as the scent of her expensive perfume. She meant his kindness, of course. Always his kindness.
Marius ran a hand through his carefully styled hair, a habit he'd never quite shaken. Kindness to a fault, he mused. It was his nature, as unchangeable as the blood that ran through his veins - a curious mix of his father's Beta lineage and his mother's Gamma heritage.
The weight of his title - son of a Duke - sat uneasily on his shoulders. In a world rigidly defined by the caste system, Marius stubbornly clung to his principles. Rank and status held no sway over his actions; kindness was his guiding star.
So when his friend - born of a lower caste - confided his deepest fear of favoring his Omega mother's rank, Marius didn't hesitate. His decision crystallized in an instant, clear and unshakeable. He would accompany his friend to the annual examinations, a rite of passage for all eighteen-year-olds in the Kingdom of Onalith.
When he made his silent vow, Marius could almost hear his mother's exasperated sigh.
Marius himself wasn't eighteen. He was seventeen and had a few more months before it was his turn to take the exam.
But if it was to support his friend, he was going to do it and knowing his mother well, he decided to keep his little misdemeanor a secret.
He didn't tell her at dinner while they are. He made sure she would never know by paying his coachman to take a detour to the slums to pick up his friend instead of heading for his lessons.
"Hop on," Marius said, extending a gloved hand to his friend. The carriage door swung open, revealing plush velvet seats and gilded trim.
His friend, Ren, hesitated at the carriage step, his threadbare jacket a stark contrast to Marius's tailored coat. Ren's calloused hands fidgeted with the frayed edges of his sleeves, a nervous habit that spoke volumes of their class difference.
"I don't want to dirty your fancy seats," Ren mumbled, eyes downcast.
Marius chuckled, grabbing Ren's arm and pulling him in. "Nonsense. It's just a carriage."
As they settled in, Marius couldn't help but notice how Ren perched on the edge of the seat, back rigid, while Marius lounged comfortably. The carriage lurched forward, wheels clattering on the cobblestones as they left the slums behind.
Ren's eyes widened as they approached the castle, its spires piercing the sky. He pressed his face to the window, breath fogging the glass. "I hope I'm a sentinel like my father," he whispered. "Maybe I'll get to work in the castle. Or even better, I could be one of your guards, Marius!"
Marius smiled, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "I'd like that, Ren. If the king doesn't want me around, at least I'd have you."
The carriage slowed to a stop outside the exam venue, a imposing stone building overshadowed by the looming castle. As they stepped out, Marius nodded to his coachman. "Thank you, Geoff. I'll send word when we're finished."
The coachman tipped his hat and drove off, leaving the two friends standing before their fate.
The line stretched before them, a sea of nervous energy and fidgeting hands. Marius stood shoulder to shoulder with Ren, their breath visible in the crisp morning air. The din of anxious chatter filled the courtyard, punctuated by the occasional bark of instructions from the guards.
A tall, broad-shouldered man in the royal guard's uniform approached, his eyes narrowing as they fell on Marius. His gait was purposeful, each step heavy with authority. As he drew near, the guard's lips curled into a barely concealed sneer.
"Your Grace," he said, his voice dripping with false civility. "This... area isn't for one of your standing." His eyes flicked dismissively to Ren, who seemed to shrink under the scrutiny. The guard's gloved hand gestured towards a separate area, where a large tent stood apart from the crowd. "Your kind belongs over there."
Marius opened his mouth to protest, but the words died in his throat as he caught the guard's expression. It was a mixture of suspicion and disgust, darting between Marius and Ren with an unspoken accusation. The air suddenly felt thick, charged with tension.
Swallowing hard, Marius nodded. He turned to Ren, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'll meet you inside, alright? Good luck." His hand briefly clasped Ren's shoulder before he turned away, each step towards the tent feeling like a betrayal.
The tent's interior was a stark contrast to the bustling courtyard outside. Plush chairs were arranged in neat rows, their velvet upholstery a far cry from the hard benches where Ren and the others waited. The air was perfumed, masking the scent of nervousness that permeated the rest of the exam venue.
As Marius sank into one of the chairs, a familiar voice caught his attention. "Well, if it isn't the Duke's son himself. Slumming it again, Marius?"
He turned to see Aldric, the Baron of Westmere's son, lounging in a nearby chair. Aldric's lips were curled in a smirk, his eyes glittering with malice.
"I don't see how that's any of your concern, Aldric," Marius replied, his voice tight with barely contained irritation.
Aldric chuckled, the sound grating on Marius's nerves. "Oh, come now. No need to be so defensive. Unless..." He leaned forward, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You favor men instead? Is that it?"
The words hit Marius like a physical blow. He felt his face flush, a mixture of anger and embarrassment coursing through him. "What exactly are you implying?" he growled, hands clenching into fists at his sides.
Aldric's smirk widened, sensing he'd struck a nerve. "Oh, I get it. Really, I do." He leaned back, affecting an air of casual understanding. "Those scum from the slums, they do all the dirty work, don't they? Gives them quite the... physique." His eyes flicked towards the tent's entrance, where Ren had disappeared from view. "Your little friend out there, he looked strong. I bet he's got a fantastic body. And an even more fantastic pen-"
The rest of Aldric's words were lost as Marius's fist connected with his jaw. Or rather, it would have, if Aldric hadn't anticipated the move. His hand shot up, blocking Marius's punch with surprising speed.
Aldric pushed Marius's hand away, his smirk now replaced with a look of disdain. "My, my. Hanging out with those slum dogs really has affected your manners, hasn't it?" He brushed imaginary dust from his sleeve, as if Marius's very touch had soiled him.
Before Marius could respond, a shrill whistle cut through the air. Aldric stood, straightening his jacket. "Ah, they're calling us in. Shall we, Your Grace?" The title dripped with sarcasm.
Marius rose, his body tense with suppressed anger. As they filed out of the tent, he caught sight of Ren in the crowd. Their eyes met briefly, and Marius felt a pang of guilt. He'd promised to stand by his friend, yet here he was, emerging from a tent of privilege while Ren had waited in the cold.
The exam venue loomed before them, its stone walls seeming to grow taller with each step.
As they approached the entrance, Marius fell into step beside Ren. He could feel Aldric's eyes boring into his back, could almost hear the snide comments that would surely follow. But in that moment, with his friend by his side, Marius found he didn't care.
"Ready?" he asked Ren, offering a small smile.
Ren nodded, his face a mixture of nervousness and fierce determination. "As I'll ever be."
The heavy doors creaked open, revealing a cavernous hall that seemed to stretch endlessly before them. Marius and Ren's footsteps echoed on the polished marble floor, their reflections ghostly in its mirror-like surface. Ornate tapestries adorned the walls, depicting scenes of the kingdom's history in vibrant threads. Crystal chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, their facets catching and scattering light like a thousand tiny stars.
A hush fell over the crowd as they filed in, the air thick with anticipation and the faint scent of incense. At the far end of the hall, a raised dais held a long table draped in deep purple cloth. Behind it stood a line of stern-faced officials, their crisp uniforms a stark contrast to the nervous energy of the assembled youths.
A guard stepped forward, his polished armor glinting in the chandelier light. His voice boomed across the hall, silencing the last whispers of conversation. "Today," he announced, his eyes sweeping over the crowd, "you will take a test that will determine your place in society."
The guard's lips curled into a smirk. "Some of you are just here to gloat," he added, his gaze lingering on the cluster of nobly dressed youth. A ripple of laughter spread through their ranks, the sound sharp and brittle.
Marius felt Ren stiffen beside him. He wanted to offer words of comfort, but found his own throat dry with apprehension.
The guard continued, his voice taking on a mocking tone. "And some are here to hope." His eyes now rested on the less finely dressed attendees. "Some will get their hopes' worth, and others..." He paused for effect. "Well, others will have to face reality."
A tense silence fell over the hall. Marius could hear the rapid breathing of those around him, could almost feel the thundering of a hundred anxious hearts.
"The test is simple," the guard said, his voice now businesslike. He held up a small, ornate glass vial filled with a shimmering, colorless liquid. "A prick of blood into this glass of Luna water. That's all it takes to reveal your true nature."
He began to pace, his armor creaking softly with each step. "Red means Alphahood," he declared. A murmur of excitement rippled through the crowd. "Blue for Betahood, yellow for Gammahood, green for Sentinelhood, indigo for Deltahood."
The guard paused again, his eyes glittering with barely suppressed mirth. "And black..." He trailed off, letting the word hang in the air.
A beat of silence, then laughter erupted from the crowd. It started with the nobles, their polished chuckles spreading like wildfire. Soon, almost everyone was laughing, the sound echoing off the marble walls.
Marius didn't laugh. Neither did Ren. They stood, islands of silence in a sea of mirth, their faces grim.
The guard's voice cut through the laughter. "We all know black is death." The words fell like lead weights, silencing the last chuckles.
With a sharp snap of his fingers, the guard summoned his subordinates. They materialized from the shadows at the edges of the hall, each carrying trays laden with delicate glass vials of Luna water.
As the guards moved through the crowd, distributing the vials, Marius watched the faces around him. Some reached for the glasses eagerly, their eyes shining with confidence or desperation. Others hesitated, their hands trembling as they accepted their fate.
Ren's fingers closed around his vial, his knuckles white with tension. Marius took his own, the glass cool against his palm. The Luna water inside shimmered, catching the light like liquid starlight.
For a moment, Marius was transported back to his mother's warning. The road to hell is paved with good intentions. Was this the hell she had foreseen? This moment of truth that could shatter friendships, destroy dreams, redefine lives with a single drop of blood?
He looked at Ren, saw the fear and hope warring in his friend's eyes. Then he glanced across the hall, catching Aldric's smug gaze. The Baron's son raised his vial in a mocking toast, his lips curled in a sneer.
Marius took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the vial in his hand. It was such a small thing, this delicate glass container. Yet it held the power to change everything. With a single drop of blood, it would reveal the truth that lay hidden in their veins, the destiny written in their very essence.
As the last vials were distributed, a tense silence fell over the hall. The future hung in the balance, suspended in those fragile glass vials. Marius looked down at the shimmering liquid, seeing his distorted reflection.
The guard's voice cut through the tension, sharp and commanding. "Form five lines, now!" His hand swept across the room, indicating where each line should form. "The vial's rim is sharp enough. One cut, that's all it takes. Your fate awaits."
Bodies shuffled, feet scuffed against marble as the crowd organized itself. Marius and Ren found themselves at front lines and in adjacent lines, close enough to see each other but separated by a sea of anxious faces.
A sudden cry pierced the air. "No! It can't be!" A young woman stared at her vial, now a vibrant indigo. Her shoulders shook as sobs wracked her body, dreams crumbling before her eyes.
Ren's hand trembled as he raised his vial. The sharp edge glinted in the light as he pressed it against his finger. A wince, a sharp intake of breath, and a crimson drop fell into the shimmering liquid. He swirled it gently, his eyes fixed on the swirling contents.
Marius watched, his own vial momentarily forgotten. The liquid in Ren's glass began to shift, tendrils of color spreading from the center. Green. A vibrant, living green that seemed to glow from within.
Ren's eyes widened, his mouth falling open in silent joy. He turned to Marius, his face radiant with relief.
But Marius couldn't share in his friend's joy. His eyes were drawn inexorably to his own vial. With a deep breath, he pressed the sharp edge to his finger. The sting was barely noticeable as he watched his blood drop into the Luna water.
The liquid began to change almost immediately. Not the red of an Alpha, nor the blue of a Beta. Not even the yellow of a Gamma like his mother. Instead, inky tendrils of black spread through the vial, turning the once-clear liquid into a void.
Marius felt the blood drain from his face. His fingers went numb, the vial slipping from his grasp. It shattered on the marble floor, the sound like a gunshot in the hushed hall. Black liquid spread across the white marble, a stain that seemed to grow with each passing second.
Whispers erupted around him, a rising tide of disbelief and shock.
"The Duke's son?"
"But his father is a Beta!"
"And the Duchess is a Gamma!"
"It's not possible. How can he be an Omega?"
The words swirled around Marius, each one a dagger to his heart. He stood frozen, staring at the black puddle at his feet, unable to comprehend the truth it revealed.
Ren's joy had turned to horror. He reached out, as if to comfort his friend, but his hand fell short, held back by the invisible barriers of caste that had suddenly sprung up between them.
Across the room, Aldric's laughter rang out, cruel and mocking. "Well, well," he called, his voice carrying over the whispers. "It seems the mighty have fallen. Or should I say, the mighty have always been low?"
Marius couldn't look up. He couldn't bear to see the pity, the disgust, the shock on the faces around him. His world had shattered along with that vial, spilling out onto the cold marble floor.
Then came the damning words.
"Arrest him!"