Chapter 1: The Orphan Girl.
The rain fell in steady sheets, tapping against the dusty windows. Lia sat by the glass, knees pulled up to her chest, her thin arms wrapped tightly around them. The orphanage was always cold this time of year, but tonight it felt different. The kind of cold that sank into your bones and made you feelterrified .
Downstairs, the other children had already drifted off to sleep, their soft breaths filling the crumbling old orphanage. Lia should have been sleeping too. But sleeping was never easy for her. Especially when the nights were so dark, and the wind howled like voices calling out from somewhere far away, chilling her.
She hugged her knees tighter and rested her chin on them, watching the flickering street light becoming blured with the falling rain. In admist her thoughts, Somewhere deep in her chest, she felt that ache again—the one she felt whenever she let herself imagine a different life. A lovely life, where she had a home where someone would hold her hand, love her, tuck her in sheets at night, or whisper that she was loved.
But wishing it did not make any difference. She was a abandoned girl, her family abandoned her in this orphanage.
A sudden creak in the hallway made her heart stutter. Lia held her breath, straining to hear. She knew the sounds of the orphanage by heart—the dragging limp of old Mrs. Dorna, the shuffling steps of Master Helren. But this… this steps was different. The steps were too careful. Too quiet.
Her pulse quickened. Creep took into her.
Maybe it was just a stray cat or the wind rattling the loose boards. She wanted to force her believe that. But when the doorknob turned, slow and deliberate, dread coiled in her stomach like a snake.
A tall figure stepped into the room, silhouetted against the dim light of the hallway. Drenched in shadow, face hidden beneath a hood. Lia's breath caught in her throat. She wanted to scream, to call for help—but no one would come. She knew that too well.
The figure moved closer. She scrambled backward, her bare feet scraping against the floor, heart pounding so loudly she was sure they could hear it.
"Help…" The word slipped out, small and desperate before she could stop it.
The stranger knelt beside her, and a gloved hand reached out, brushing a damp lock of hair from her face. There was no cruelty in the touch, but there was no kindness either. Just cold detachment.
"Quiet." The voice was low, steady.
"It'll be easier that way."
Something cold pressed against her neck. The world tilted. Her eyelids grew heavy, and the last thing she saw before everything went dark was the rain tracing silver lines down the windowpane.
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When Lia came to consciousness, the world smelled of stone and damp earth. The ceiling above her was unfamiliar — rough, gray, unkind and eerie. She sat up slowly, her head swimming, and found herself in a dim, windowless room.
There were others. Children. Some older, some younger. Huddled together or sitting alone, their faces pale and frightened. No one spoke.
Lia's throat tightened. Although she wasn't alone anymore, but it didn't feel like comfort. It felt like being buried with strangers.
The heavy door groaned open. Two men entered, both dressed in black. One was broad and scarred, the other lean and sharp-eyed, with an unsettling calm in his expression. An emblem marked his chest — a serpent wrapped around a dagger.
"On your feet," the scarred man barked.
Most of the children scrambled up. Lia hesitated, her limbs still trembling, but forced herself to stand. She didn't want to draw attention.
The sharp-eyed man stepped forward.
"You belong to The Order now," he said, his voice too smooth, too practiced. "Forget who you were. Forget what you wanted. The only thing that matters is survival."
His gaze swept the room, lingering on each child like a butcher sizing up livestock. When his eyes found Lia, his eyes flickered with coldness. There were not a single trace of pity in their eyes.
"That one," he said, pointing directly at her.
"Bring her."
The scarred man grabbed her arm, mercilessly pulling her away from the others. Lia's pulse hammered in her ears. She bit her lip to keep from crying out. She was scared — more scared than she'd ever been. But she didn't let the tears fall. She couldn't, not yet.
"What's your name, girl?" the scarred man asked.
"…Lia." Her voice was small, shaking.
The sharp-eyed man's mouth twitched, almost a smirk.
"Not anymore. You don't have a name here. You don't have anything."
His words settled over her like a heavy, invisible chain. Making everyone afraid, deep inside her body was some courage, but it had been buried, for now atleast.
"Do you understand?"
Lia swallowed hard, her throat tight. "Yes."
The man nodded.
"Good. Then let's begin."
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End of Chapter 1