SaberGlory

  Waking up, Kaede found herself slumped against the wall, her mind spinning with everything she’d overheard the day before. The word “on” lingered ihoughts, a bitter taste she couldn’t shake. She wasn’t a on. She wasn’t here to hurt a what could she do? Her body still felt heavy, and every attempt to summon her skills had bee with silence.

  Hours passed—or at least, it felt like hours. The faint glow of the ented crystal on the ceiling never ged, leaving her with no sense of time. Her stomach growled faintly, a remihat even if she didn’t feel like it, her body was still human.

  The sound of heavy footsteps interrupted her musings. Kaede froze, her breath catg as the door creaked open. Two figures stepped iheir robes simir to the ones she’d seen earlier, but less eborate. Each carried a tray with a simple meal—a k of bread, a thin soup, and a small cup of water.

  “Eat,” one of them said curtly, setting the tray oable without meeting her eyes. The other stayed he door, watg her warily as though expeg her to leap at them.

  Kaede hesitated. She wasn’t hungry—her nerves had tied her stoma knots—but she couldn’t afford to weaken herself further. Slowly, she moved to the table, her legs still unsteady beh her. She took a cautious sip of the soup. It was bnd but warm, and the heat settled iomach, easing some of the tension.

  The first mage didn’t wait for her to finish. “You’ll be ied tomorrow m, when the chief sorcerer arrives.” he said. His tone carried the same indifference as before, as if she were little more than livestock. The ure snorted. “Behave, and this will go smoothly. Misbehave, and...” He trailed off, his gaze flig to the faint remnants of golden light still ging to her wrists, a silent warning.

  Kaede nodded wordlessly. Fighting baow would be useless—she could barely stand, let alone defend herself. For now, she had no choice but to py along.

  The mages left as quickly as they’d arrived, log the door behind them with a sharp click. Kaede sank bato the chair, staring at the remnants of her meal. Her hands tightened into fists. She hated this. She hated feeling weak, helpless. Ba New World Online, she’d been strong. No one could push her around.

  But here... here, she was just Kaede.

  She closed her eyes, fog again on the skills she’d relied on so much. 'Devour... Absolute Defense... Cover Move... anything, please...'

  Nothing.

  Frustration bubbled up inside her, but she forced herself to stay calm. Panig wouldn’t help.

  She spent the rest of the day, listening to the guards outside. Apparently, she wasn't the only otherworlder ever summohe reason she was kept in a rge empty space was because of some of the previous otherworlders and their destructive tendencies whehey were summoned

  The rest of the day blurred into a monotonous cycle of waiting and thinking. Kaede paced the small room, her footsteps eg faintly against the cold stone walls. Her body ached from the spell, her muscles heavy and uncooperative, but she couldn’t sit idle any lohe silence pressed on her like a weight, broken only by the occasional murmurs of the guards outside the door.

  The guards spoke in hushed tones, likely assuming she couldn’t hear them. But the room’s emptiness made their voices carry, and Kaede caught fragments of their versation.

  “She’s quiet,” one of them muttered. “Uhe st one.”

  The other chuckled dryly. “The st one nearly brought a whole building down. That’s why they’re so cautious now. Don’t let her fool you—these otherworlders are dangerous.”

  “Still,” the first guard tinued, “this one seems... different. I haven’t seen her sh out once since she got here.”

  “That’s because she knows better,” the sed replied. “Razen will be here tomorrow to bind her properly. Ohe log curse is fully in pce, she won’t even think about resisting.”

  The ruck Kaede again. Razen. They’d mentioned him before, and it sounded like he was someone important—important enough to seal her fate. She bit her lip, her mind rag with questions. What kind of “binding” were they pnning? And how much worse would things get ohis Razen arrived?

  The hours dragged on. She barely touched the rest of her meal, her appetite entirely gone. Her body felt like it was running on fumes, but her mind refused to shut down. Every side the door made her flinch, every footstep setting her nerves on edge.

  The sound of footsteps approached again, heavier this time. Not the shuffling of guards, but a measured, deliberate stride. A shadow passed uhe door before it swung open with a groan.

  The faint hum of magical energy drele's attention. The glow of the runes on the walls pulsed faintly, the rhythm steady and deliberate. It was different now—like a clock ting down. She tensed, her body still heavy and uncooperative, as the sound of measured footsteps approached.

  When the door opened, it wasn’t the guards or another robed figure. The man who stepped inside exuded authority, his presence filling the room in an uling way. His robes were meticulously crafted, decorated with crimson and gold sigils that shimmered faintly uhe light of the runes. He carried a long, elegant staff ed with a glowing crystal, the soft radiance casting his angur features into sharp relief. His silver hair was ly bed, his pierg gaze calm but intense.

  He didn’t speak immediately, taking a moment to observe her as if she were an artifa a museum. The silence was unnerving, but Kaede refused to look away.

  After a long pause, he broke the silence. “So, you’re the test summoning. A little on the old side.” His voice was steady, smooth, and precise, with no hint of anger or malice—just the detached professionalism of someone evaluating a tool.

  Kaede straightened as much as her sluggish body allowed, gripping the edge of the table for support. “And you are?” she asked, her voice low and trolled.

  The fai flicker of amusement crossed his face, gone so quickly she almost doubted she’d seen it. “I am Chief Sorcerer Razen,” he said. “I oversee the binding and iion of summoherworlders such as yourself.”

  Kaede's grip oable tighte the word otherworlders, but she forced herself to keep her expressioral.

  Razen stepped closer, his sharp eyes studying her every movement. “You’re calmer than most,” he remarked, tilting his head slightly. “Many of your kind sh out in fusier at this stage. Yet here you are, attempting posure.”

  “Would it make a difference if I wasn’t?” she asked, her tone sharper thaended.

  Razen’s lips curved into the barest hint of a smile. “No. It wouldn’t.”

  He circled her slowly, his staff clig softly against the stone floor with every step. “The curse has settled well,” he said, more to himself than to her. “Your physical state is stable, and your mind... pliant. Good. That will make the final binding far more effit.”

  “What’s this ‘binding’ everyone keeps talking about?” Kaede asked, her voice steady despite the knot tightening iomach.

  Razen stopped, his gaze log onto hers. “A necessary measure. Otherworlders, by their nature, are uable. Dangerous. The binding ensures your cooperation and prevents... is.”

  Kaede frowned. “You mean it forces people to obey.”

  Razen raised an eyebrow, as if her obje were trivial. “If that is how you choose to frame it.”

  He leaned on his staff, his expression unreadable. “You should uand something. This process is not personal. You are not here because of who you are, but because of what you are. An Otherworlder is a resource—a rare, powerful tool. And like any tool, you will be shaped and wielded as necessary.”

  The words struck her like a physical blow, but she refused to let it show. Instead, she met his gaze evenly. “What happens if I refuse?”

  Razen’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You won’t.”

  The finality in his to a chill down her spine. Without another word, he tapped his staff on the ground. The runes on the walls fred briefly, their golden light casting long, flickering shadows across the room.

  “I will return tomorrow,” Razen said, his voice calm and assured. “Rest while you . The binding ritual is... exhaustive.”

  With that, he turned and strode out, the door closing behind him with a soft click.

  Kaede sank bato the chair, her heart rag despite her outward calm. The room felt colder, the hum of the runes more oppressive than before.

  “Not personal,” she muttered bitterly to herself, staring at her trembling hands. “It’s just a game to them... Dammit.”