One Minute of Power

Kael ran until his lungs felt like fire and his legs wobbled beneath him, threatening to collapse. He ducked into a narrow alley, pressing his back against the cold brick wall as he tried to catch his breath. His heart pounded in his chest, not just from the exertion but from the weight of what he had just done. He had stolen from Garrick, a man whose victims were rarely found in one piece. And now, clutched in his trembling hand, was a Vestige. A glimmer of hope.

He examined the object carefully. It was small, no larger than a coin, with intricate engravings that seemed to shift and shimmer in the dim light. He didn't know what it did or how many uses it had left, but it didn't matter. It was his now. And he had to make it count.

Kael's mind raced. He couldn't go home—not yet. His father would demand to know where he'd been, and Kael couldn't risk him finding the Vestige. He also couldn't stay out in the open for long. Garrick's men would be looking for him, and the last thing he needed was to be caught with stolen goods. He needed a plan, and fast. After all, he only had two months left before he'd end up like the girl in the square—lifeless, broken, and discarded.

As he slipped through the shadows, Kael thought of Lira. She had been mesmerized by the spectacle in the square, just like everyone else. She didn't understand what it was like to be powerless, to be nothing. But she would. If Kael failed, she would see him dragged away, branded as Rankless, despised by everyone. And she wouldn't be able to save him—or would she even try? He couldn't let it come to that.

He found a secluded spot beneath a crumbling overpass and sat down, the Vestige resting in his palm. He had heard stories about these objects—how they could grant temporary abilities, how they could change a person's fate. If he played his cards right, he could use its power to earn a rank during the next evaluation. He could take control of his own destiny. But he had also heard the warnings. Vestiges were unpredictable. Some worked only once. Others had side effects that could cripple or kill their users. Kael didn't have the luxury of caution. He had to try.

Closing his eyes, he focused on the Vestige, willing it to activate. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a slow, eerie warmth spread through his palm, creeping up his arm like liquid fire. The object pulsed, steady and rhythmic—like a heartbeat, but not his own. Kael's breath hitched as a surge of energy coursed through him. His vision blurred, and for a split second, he felt... different. Stronger. Faster. But just as quickly as it came, the sensation faded, leaving him dizzy and disoriented.

He looked down at his hands, half-expecting to see them glowing or transformed.But they were just as they had always been. Had the Vestige failed? He didn't feel any different. Maybe the Vestige was a dud. Or maybe he had used it wrong. Panic began to creep in as his eyes fell on the engravings. A portion of them had faded, as if erased. A timer, it dawned on him. Somehow, he knew—as if the knowledge had been whispered into his ear—that this Vestige could only be active for one minute at a time. A shiver ran down his spine. One minute. Just one. And how many uses did it have left? He forced the thoughts down. He couldn't afford to doubt himself now. He had to figure out what the Vestige could do.

Kael stood, his legs still shaky, and made his way back toward the market. He needed to test the Vestige, to see what it could do. As he walked, he noticed something strange. The people around him seemed... slower. Their movements were sluggish, their voices drawn out. It was as if time itself had slowed down.

Kael's heart pounded. The world had turned sluggish, like thick honey dripping from a spoon. Every movement stretched unnaturally, voices dragged into eerie, distorted murmurs. Was this the Vestige's power? Had it given him control over time itself?

He didn't have time to ponder it further. A shout echoed through the alley, and Kael turned to see two of Garrick's men approaching. They hadn't spotted him yet, but it was only a matter of time. Kael's mind raced. If the Vestige had given him an ability, he needed to use it now.

As the men drew closer, Kael focused on the strange sensation in his body. He willed time to slow further, and to his astonishment, the world around him seemed to freeze. The men's movements became almost imperceptible, their voices a low drone. Kael didn't hesitate. He darted past them, his own movements swift and fluid, and disappeared into the maze of alleys before the effect wore off.

When he finally stopped, his chest heaving, Kael allowed himself a small smile. It had worked. The Vestige had given him an ability—a powerful one. But he could already feel the energy draining from him, the effects fading. He didn't know how many uses the Vestige had left, but he would have to make each one count.

For the first time in years, Kael felt a flicker of hope. He had a chance—a slim one, but a chance nonetheless. He would use the Vestige to fake an ability, to climb the ranks, and to secure his place in this brutal world. But he knew it wouldn't be easy. Garrick would be hunting him, and every use of the Vestige brought him closer to its limit.

As he made his way home, Kael's mind was already spinning with plans. He would use the Vestige sparingly, only in emergencies—especially during the next rank evaluation. He couldn't afford to test the limits of his new "ability." Who knew how long the Vestige would last? He would make them all believe he wasn't Rankless—even if it killed him.

Because in Nevaris, the alternative was far worse.