The Crows' Castle stood tall against the grey skyline — a cold giant of black stone and silver crests. It wasn't just a home. It was a fortress of bloodlines, a temple of legacy. Within its halls, power wasn't just respected — it was required.
Leia stood barefoot in the High Chamber, its floor polished like a mirror, her small frame reflected in the cold marble. The chamber was silent, heavy with judgment. Elders sat in a half-circle, clad in deep crimson robes, each bearing the symbol of their ability — glowing marks etched onto skin: fire, metal, wind, even thunder.
Leia had none.
At thirteen, her wrists were still bare. No sign of an awakening. No flicker of energy. No glowing seal.
She could feel the eyes of her family burning into her — some with pity, most with disappointment.
Lady Selene, her mother, stood beside her, gripping her hand firmly. "She's still young," she said. "The awakening can be delayed. Some have been late bloomers."
"Late bloomers," one of the elders repeated with a scoff. "We are the Crows. Power flows in our blood. We do not wait for it."
Another elder leaned forward. "What is she, then? A silent branch on a roaring tree? This has never happened in our line."
"She bears no ability," the first elder declared, voice cold and final. "Not even a spark. She is defective."
Leia clenched her fists, her heart pounding, yet she said nothing. Not because she agreed — but because she didn't know how to fight them.
Lord Vaelor Crows rose from his seat. His voice was low, carved in stone. "She is not fit to carry our name."
Selene's voice trembled. "You cannot be serious."
"I am," he said. "From this day forward, Leia Crows is no more. You and your daughter are to leave the castle before nightfall."
Silence fell like a guillotine. Leia's breath caught in her chest.
"You're casting out your own blood?" Selene whispered.
Vaelor didn't look at her. "The Crows do not nurture weakness."
---
The outer city was not kind to former nobles.
They walked for hours before finding shelter — a broken rooftop in the lower districts, where the sky leaked and the walls whispered. The air smelled of ash and rust. There were no guards here. No glowing crests. Just silence, hunger, and stares.
Leia sat huddled beside her mother, wrapped in an old cloak once lined with gold. The gold was gone. The warmth was not.
"I'm sorry," Selene whispered, brushing Leia's tangled hair.
Leia shook her head. "Don't be. You didn't fail."
Tears welled in her mother's eyes. "But I let them call you broken."
Leia looked down at her wrist — still bare. She pressed her thumb against it, willing something to appear.
Nothing came.
Maybe they were right.
Maybe she was the thread that broke.
That night, as her mother slept beside her, Leia stared at the leaking ceiling. Rain tapped like faint fingers on stone. And for the first time, she asked the sky the question that burned in her chest:
What am I... if I have no power?