Twelve Years Later...
The dirt never left her skin. It seemed to grow with her. It didn’t matter how many times Ilyari bathed, the dirt clung to her like a second skin. It embedded itself into the creases of her fingers, wove into the whorls of her palms, and dusted her hairline like stubborn ash. The basin water would cloud dark around her, yet somehow, the stains remained, as if the earth itself refused to let her go. Even after scrubbing until her arms ached, a faint shadow of soil lingered along her skin — not filth, but a reminder of the Lower Zone that she could never quite wash away. A reminder of everything she and her brother lost.
Tazien didn’t care. He called it camouflage.
But then again, she supposed a one-year-old couldn't remember the royal baths they once took before they were dumped in this pit of a village. The people were nice enough and everyone loved them. But she knew — this was not her home.
They moved in tandem through the fields, baskets of mutated rootfruit slung across their backs, the mana-thinned air vibrating faintly around them. Even here, mana shimmered like heat haze. Farmers pulled it in instinctively, shaping basic spells for growth, weed control, pest repulsion.
In the same fashion she squinted, opening up the Veil Interface — a personal screen with stats and information, and a box with the Primordial Glyphs they could edit.
As children, they discovered no one else could see it and were warned to keep quiet. It was why when they performed magic, they always said the spells aloud — but it was the code doing the work. It was more efficient, more potent. And unlike the villagers’ spells, their magic had permanence until they changed it again.
"Vass rune, eira tel. Deep Earth, part and heal."
A flash of lavender energy spread through the soil — roots untangled, rot receded.
But where others saw shimmering magic, she saw something more: Primordial Glyphs.
They blinked beneath the surface of the spell like a second language — glyphs, lines, fragments of something older, more logical. She didn’t dare touch it today. Last time she did, the roots grew too fast and literally screamed out loud for a few minutes. In a panic, she had started to bury the screaming roots until she figured out how to undo the code and restore them. She'd even cut her hand superficially with her trowel and screamed herself, creating enough noise to explain the mana spike.
The disguised soldiers suspected the sudden mana surge, but dismissed it as a childish accident.
Tazien jogged up beside her, dropping his basket with a thud.
"You layered too much again, didn’t you? I saw the glow. That fruit is going to grow to be the size of your head if you don't dial it back."
"Barely touched it, and it was only one segment so the grubs will stop burrowing into the lower stems," Ilyari muttered. "Let’s get this over with, so we can go home."
After finishing out the day, they trudged back toward Sector Farm Unit 4C, a cluster of brick and wood set into the edge of the Low Array’s outer ring. Dust drifted from every crevice. Security glyphs lined the gates, flickering to mark the time. One of them sparked and died as they passed.
Inside the home, past threadbare curtains and shelves stacked with scavenged tech, a faint hum welcomed them. Ilyari dropped her basket and knelt beside a false floorboard, glancing once toward the hallway as Tazien peeked into the room down the hall. He signaled with his hand that she should continue and crouched beside her.
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
"She’s asleep," Tazien whispered. "Ma’Ryn took her tonic again. Looks like a pretty big dose this time. Her snoring is horrible."
Ilyari lifted the board. Beneath it, a soft pulse of blue light glowed.
WynData, a holographic computer built from discarded shards of Academy visors and market junk tech, floated to life at her touch. It hummed once, adjusted its brightness, and projected a flickering array of locked files, stolen lessons, and district alerts.
"Get the entry form," Tazien said. "Before it cycles off the net again."
She tapped through three security prompts — their own design — and pulled up the day’s education brief.
Standard District 4C Announcement:
Basic Exam Trials Scheduled for Seventh-Segment Youth.
Location: Inner Gate Assembly.
Ranking Test will determine placement for: Shop License | Combat Draft | Common-Citizen Scholarship.
"Three options, and none of them get us out of here," Ilyari muttered.
"We’re not trying to get out," Tazien replied. "We’re trying to get in."
She stared at him. He smirked.
"We’re gonna take the Academy test. The real one. The noble one."
"That’s not for us."
"Not yet." He quipped. "Hey. This was really your idea. I just like the chaos of it. You said we were royals, right? So they have to let us in even if we are exiled. Though, I really think you have a very active imagination."
From the hallway, a voice rasped:
"If you two plan on storming the heavens, clean your boots first. I just patched the rug."
Ma’Ryn stood in the doorway, leaning on her cane, her single arm crossed over her chest. Her smile was tired, but proud.
"You’ll wake the gods with all that talk of revolution. Now get to the table and eat. You’ve both got dirt up to your eyebrows."
She coughed violently for a moment before leaning wearily on her cane.
They laughed nervously. But in Ilyari’s peripheral vision, the glyphs of WynData glitched.
Just once, showing her the break in the code needed to access the Noble test.
The noble test wasn't like the one for common-citizenship.
Anyone could take the test of nobility to attempt to rise out of their station — however, if you failed, you forfeited all rights.
The best job you could hope for was slavery.
Even so, the government often hid access to the application to make it harder for commoners to challenge their superiority.
The next day...
The school compound smelled like rust and heat. The building squatted at the edge of the farming fields, where mud never quite dried and mana crystals flickered in half-lit sconces along the hallway.
"Wipe your boots," came the daily bark from Instructor Vannir, standing with his arms crossed by the doorframe. His coat was patched but pressed, and his eyes — as always — lingered a bit longer on Ilyari and Tazien than the others.
Inside the cramped classroom, cracked seats circled three glowing slates marked with the basics: Codeform Numeracy, Social Structure and Obedience, and Combat Survival.
These were the minimums and were what commoners learned. Ilyari knew that they would have to study on WynData tonight to make up for the things they wouldn't be taught. These weren't subjects that the nobles studied.
Rin and Talya waved them over, clearing space between peeling walls and a bucket of half-clean practice staves.
Rin flashed a grin.
"You ready to break the test again? I heard Merek's already whining about how you probably hacked last year's questions."
"Let him whine," Tazien muttered.
From across the room, Merek scowled. Jastin and Pira whispered behind their hands, but no one said anything outright. Not in front of Vannir.
Instructor Vannir cleared his throat.
"Today, we review fundamentals. Tomorrow, the assessment.
And for those of you who plan to test above your tier, I remind you: failure is permanent.
The noble system does not make room for dreams."
His gaze lingered deliberately on Ilyari.
Without thinking, she glanced sideways — locking eyes with Tazien.
He offered the smallest nod.
But exceptional performance sometimes drew... attention.
Ilyari didn’t blink. She simply sat, pulled out her rune-slate, and began.
The future was waiting.
Hidden beneath grime and silence.
She didn’t need a throne handed back to her.
She would climb from the dust, grip the edges of this Empire, and restore her bloodline in a way they could never deny — by their own laws, their own rules.
No one would ever call her or her brother a ghost again and live. She would remember the faces and the mockery just as she burned them into her memory when she was three.
Glitchborn: Code of Fallen, it would mean the world to me if you left a review, shared it with a friend, or even just dropped a quick comment telling me your favorite part. I would absolutely love to hear what you think!