Family system

Her parents, King Alaric, and Queen Serana, had fought hard against the necromancer. Her father had stood at the castle gates, sword in hand, refusing to abandon his people. Her mother had hidden Lira in a secret passageway, kissing her forehead as tears streamed down her face.

"Stay quiet, my love," her mother had whispered. "No matter what you hear, you must stay hidden. One day, you'll see our city free again."

Those were the last words Lira ever heard from her mother. She had obeyed, trembling in the darkness of the passageway as the sounds of battle raged above her. When silence finally fell, she crept out, only to find the castle in ruins and her family gone.

The necromancer god had installed the Arbiters to govern the capital, turning it into a grotesque copy of the vibrant city it once was. The people of the city who had thrived under her family's rule became little more than slaves, their lives dictated by the whims of the Arbiters' greed and cruelty. Lira had been too young and powerless to challenge them. Instead, she had become one of the faceless masses, hiding her identity and surviving as best she could.

As the years passed, Lira grew into a woman hardened by loss but not broken by it. She had watched the city's spirit decay under the Arbiters' rule, their laws and brutal enforcers crushing any hope of resistance. And yet, she had always carried a small flame within her—a promise she had made to herself as a child.

One day, she would see her city free again.

Now, watching the rebellion banners fly and hearing the defiant cries of the people, Lira felt that flame burn brighter. This wasn't about reclaiming her title or restoring her family's legacy. It was about allowing the city's people to breathe freely once more.

Lira stepped away from the window, her fingers tightening around her satchel. The memory of her mother's voice echoed in her mind.

"One day, you'll see our city free again."

That day was coming. And Lira would do whatever it took to see it through.

Lira descended from her room cautiously, the remnants of explosions filling the air. Her heart raced as she navigated the crowded streets, slipping through alleys and avoiding the attention of enforcers who were still fighting for the Arbiters. Her satchel pressed tightly against her side.

The city was alive with rebellion. The banners, the cries, the defiance—it all filled Lira with a mix of hope and anxiety. For years, she had been a shadow, a ghost of her former self, living under the weight of her family's legacy. With the people rising, she felt the weight of responsibility bearing down on her. Her parents' faces flashed in her mind, their sacrifices fueling her.

She nearly collided with a figure emerging from a narrow doorway as she turned a corner. The woman steadied her with a firm grip, her sharp eyes immediately softening as recognition flickered across her face.

"Lira?" the woman whispered, her voice was filled with shock.

Lira stepped back, her hand instinctively reaching for the dagger hidden in her cloak. "Who are you?" she asked cautiously.

The woman pulled back her hood, revealing kind eyes framed by graying hair. "Amara. I... I served your mother and father. I was the court healer."

Lira's heart stopped. "You... knew my parents?"

Amara nodded, her expression heavy with emotion. "I swore an oath to serve the royal family. I thought... I thought you were gone, like the rest of them." Her voice broke, but she quickly composed herself. "But here you are, alive. The bloodline of Alaric and Serana lives on."

Lira stared at Amara, torn between disbelief and relief. "I've hidden for so long. I didn't know anyone loyal to the kingdom still remained."

Amara stepped closer, "The kingdom may have fallen, but its spirit never did. Many of us have been waiting for this moment—the rebellion, the chance to take back what was stolen. And now, seeing you here, I know we can."

Amara knelt before Lira, her head bowed. "I swore my loyalty to your family years ago, and I swear it again now. I will serve you, Princess Lira, as I served your parents."

The title hit Lira like a shockwave. Princess. It was a name she had buried deep, a part of herself she had tried to forget to survive. And yet, hearing it now, amid rebellion, it felt right. It felt powerful.

Lira extended a trembling hand to Amara. "Rise. If you are loyal to the people, you serve a cause greater than me."

Amara rose, a small smile on her face, as she remembered some memories from years ago. "Your mother would be proud of you," she said.

Before Lira could respond, a sharp pain shot through her chest, stealing her breath. She stumbled, clutching at her heart as heat surged through her veins. Amara caught her, and her healer's instincts immediately took over.

"Lira! What's wrong?" Amara's voice was filled with panic.

Lira couldn't answer. Her body felt like it was burning from the inside out, her vision blurring as a golden light began to radiate from her skin. Images flashed through her mind—her father standing tall at the gates, her mother whispering words of love, the castle bathed in fire, and the Arbiter's sigil looming over her city.

The light intensified, swirling around her in ribbons of gold and silver. The sensation was overwhelming, but it wasn't painful anymore. It was... full of power.

"What is this?" Lira whispered, her voice trembling as the light pulsed outward, creating a faint shockwave that sent debris and dust scattering.

Amara's eyes widened in awe. "It's your bloodline—the legacy of your family. The line of Alaric and Serena wasn't just royal—it was gifted. This... this is your awakening."

Lira's breathing steadied as the light settled around her, forming a faint, shimmering aura. Her senses felt heightened, her mind clearer than it had ever been. She raised her hand and saw the golden glow coursing through her veins.

"What does it mean?" Lira asked, her voice steadier now, having recovered from the shock.

Amara stepped back, awe still etched on her face. "Your family's bloodline was tied to the land itself. They could channel its energy, protect it, and empower those who stood with them. The bloodline would only awaken in times of great need—when the kingdom was on the brink."

Lira clenched her glowing fist, the light flaring briefly. "Then it's time to use it. The people have suffered for long enough."

…

The Arbiter's council hall was chaotic as the twelve bloated figures shuffled into their ornate chairs. Their enormous bodies jiggled and heaved with each labored breath, sweat glistening on their rolls as they struggled to recover from the exertion of being woken abruptly and forced to meet.

"What is happening out there?" bellowed the central Arbiter, his triple chins wobbling as his jeweled hand slammed against the table. The sound echoed in the chamber, though it did little to mask the explosions and shouts coming from the city.

Another Arbiter, his face flushed red from exertion, wiped his brow with a golden cloth. "Rebellion! They dare to rise against us! Against us! This—this is madness!" His voice cracked with panic, and his sausage-like fingers twitched as he gestured wildly.

"We've ruled this city for decades," hissed the Arbiter to the left, his small, pig-like eyes darting nervously. "Who would be foolish enough to challenge our power? The enforcers should have crushed them by now!"

A wheezing Arbiter near the end of the table spoke up, his words punctuated by labored gasps. "The enforcers… they're failing. Reports—" he paused to inhale deeply, his rolls quivering "—reports say the rebels have taken key areas. Our banners… replaced… with their symbols!"

The room erupted into a cacophony of overlapping shouts.

"Impossible!"

"How could this happen?"

"Where is our god? Why hasn't he answered our calls?"

The central Arbiter raised a hand, though it took considerable effort, and the room fell into a tense silence. His voice, usually filled with smug authority, now carried an unmistakable tremor. "Has anyone managed to establish contact with Him?"

A skeletal-looking Arbiter, his bony hands contrasting starkly with his bloated torso, shook his head. "We've tried. The communication crystals are… unresponsive. The connection to the divine—it's... it's gone."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence. For a moment, there was only the sound of their heavy breathing and the distant echoes of yelling from the streets.

The Arbiter on the far right gulped nervously, his greasy fingers clutching a goblet of spiced wine. "Without His guidance, we are vulnerable. If the people sense that—"

"They already have!" snapped the central Arbiter, his voice rising in panic. "Don't you see? This rebellion isn't random. It's planned! Someone is leading them. Someone planned this!"

Another Arbiter with a golden chain around his neck flinched, his rolls of fat trembling. "But who? Who would have the resources, the audacity? It must be an outsider. No one in this miserable city would dare!"

The Arbiter to the left shook his head violently, his jowls quivering. "You think this is the work of outsiders? No! This is an inside job. The people have turned against us. Our slaves! The wretches we've fed and clothed!"

"Fed?" sneered the Arbiter across from him, his eyes narrowing. "You mean the scraps we toss at them? And clothed? In rags! Don't delude yourself. They hate us!"

"Silence!" roared the central Arbiter, though his voice cracked with desperation. His jeweled fingers dug into the armrests of his chair as he leaned forward, his belly pressing against the table. "We must act. Mobilize the constructs. Triple the enforcer patrols. Restore order at once!"

"But without His guidance," said the skeletal Arbiter, his voice trembling, "our constructs are… limited. The mana grid is faltering. Reports indicate sabotage at key conduits."

The central Arbiter's face twisted in rage and fear. "Sabotage? What of Commander Hana? Where is she? She should be overseeing this!"

"She… she remained in the capital," another Arbiter stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "She said she was ensuring logistics, but—"

"But she has failed!" the central Arbiter roared, spittle flying from his lips. "Summon her at once! She will answer for this!"

The room descended into another chaotic uproar as the Arbiters shouted over one another, their panic growing with every passing second.

"They'll tear us apart!"
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"We must flee! Secure the treasury and—"

"Flee? Are you mad? This city is ours!"

"And what if the rebellion breaches the stronghold? What then? Our god is silent, and we're left—"

"Enough!" The central Arbiter's voice cracked like a whip, silencing the others. His bloated face was red with frustration, sweat streaming down his cheeks. "We will not flee. We will crush this rebellion and do so with such ferocity that no one will ever dare defy us again!"

His words, though forceful, did little to mask the trembling of his voice or the fear in his eyes. The other Arbiters exchanged uneasy glances, their confidence eroding as the sounds of rebellion grew louder outside the chamber walls.