𝐆𝐨𝐝'𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐒𝐬𝐭

𝔄 β„Œπ”’π”―π”¬β€™π”° 𝔖𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔀𝔀𝔩𝔒, π”ž π”™π”¦π”©π”©π”žπ”¦π”«β€™π”° β„œπ”’π”‘π”’π”ͺ𝔭𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫.

Lament 2 – Forgotten Fires, Unforgiven. [6. Sin City]

β—¦

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Trigger and Content Warning:

This portion of the story contains elements that may be distressing for some readers. Please be aware of the following triggers:

  1. Psychological and Emotional Manipulation: The narrative involves themes of control and manipulation, particularly regarding the treatment and potential training of a vulnerable child, with a focus on exploiting their instability for political gain.
  2. Power Imbalance and Exploitation: There are references to the exploitation of a child’s weaknesses for the gain of those in positions of power. This includes using individuals as tools for manipulation and training them to serve dangerous purposes.
  3. Violence and Threat of Harm: The story includes undertones of violence and brutality, particularly in the context of the ruthless training that characters endure. The threat of physical and psychological harm is present, as well as references to previous intense training methods.
  4. Excessive Control and Objectification: Characters in positions of power are shown exerting total control over others, reducing them to mere objects or instruments to be used for personal or political gain. There are also subtle suggestions of objectification, especially towards certain figures who serve the protagonist.
  5. Cold, Detached Views on Human Life: The tone and demeanor of the characters may be unsettling due to their cold, detached attitudes toward others, especially those deemed weaker or more vulnerable. There is a general lack of empathy or compassion toward those in difficult situations.

Please approach with caution if these themes or tones are distressing to you.

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Status: Draft #1 (Incomplete)

Last Edited: November 26, 2024

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The air in the room was thick with the sweet scent of burning tobacco as Sage Yvonne reclined in her plush, red velvet seat. Her long silver hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of liquid moonlight, shimmering faintly in the dim light of the luxurious chamber. Her eyes, gleaming like emeralds, were locked in a cold, unblinking stare, their draconic slits narrowing in quiet disdain.

Around her, a dozen menβ€”each sculpted to perfection, with bodies that gleamed like polished marbleβ€”were at her service. They moved like well-trained servants, gracefully attending to her every whim, from the perfect adjustment of the long stem of her traditional smoking pipe to the occasional offering of a drink. They were nothing more than exquisite pieces of artwork, elegant and submissive, but to Sage, they were little more than distractions. She was not interested in their perfect forms or their lustful gazes.

As she took another long drag from the pipe, she barely acknowledged the men hovering nearby, her focus unwavering. Her mind, like the smoke curling from her pipe, seemed to drift into another place entirely.

The door to her private chambers opened without a sound, and a figure entered, moving with the quiet precision of someone used to serving those of power. The butlerβ€”a hulking figure, his body wrapped in a crisp black suitβ€”approached with a deliberate slowness, his face as expressionless as a stone. In his hand, he carried an ornate letter, sealed with an intricate code that only the rulers of Sinthral could decipher.

Without a word, the butler presented the letter to Sage Yvonne, who took it from his outstretched hand with a delicate flick of her fingers. Her eyes flicked down to the seal, immediately recognizing the signature of the Imperial Empress Karmilya Nyx. It was rareβ€”almost unheard ofβ€”that such a letter would come to her, and the weight of it settled into the pit of her stomach.

She didn’t break her gaze from the letter as she tore the seal open, her mind already calculating the implications of the message. As she read, the corners of her lips tightened slightly, her expression betraying nothing but the faintest flicker of intrigue.

β€œSo… a Methuselah child,” Sage murmured aloud, her voice low and deliberate, β€œand not just any child. The youngest.”

Her eyes narrowed as she read further, her sharp mind quickly processing the delicate nuances in the message. She had heard of Deon Fonias before, of course. Every ruler worth their salt had. But an 8-year-old? It was unheard of for a Methuselah child to be sent to Sinthral before the age of 10, let alone one who was still in the process of training.

Sage exhaled another puff of smoke, her lips curling into a faint, amused smile. How strange. Even the Methuselah must have their troubles.

According to the Imperial Empress, Deon’s mind was β€œunstable.” A delicate word for what was undoubtedly a volatile situation. The Methuselah had no use for weakness; instability was something to be eliminated. But the Empress had made an unusual requestβ€”one that carried the weight of something far more delicate than the typical cutthroat maneuverings that governed their world. Deon was not just any child. No, her existence seemed to have potential. A dangerous potential that the Methuselah couldn’t afford to waste, even if it meant bending their usual rules.

β€œSinthral, the testing grounds for the Methuselah.” Sage’s lips whispered the words, her voice like ice against the warmth of the room. It was a clever move, though. If the child could not be tamed in the blood-soaked pits of Sinthral, she would never be stable enough to serve the Imperial Empress.

β€œI see,” Sage finally said, her voice taking on the weight of someone who had just made a decision. β€œYou want me to handle the child. But you also want her to be… trained.”

The butler nodded, though he said nothing. His expression was as unreadable as ever, but there was something in his stance that suggested he was well aware of the gravity of Sage’s words.

Sage leaned back, crossing one leg over the other, her emerald eyes flicking to the butler. She tapped the side of her pipe thoughtfully, her nails making a soft clicking sound against the ceramic. β€œYou realize, of course, that this is the first time I’ve ever been asked for a favor by the Methuselah. A first, after how many millennia of history?” She let out a low chuckle, shaking her head slightly. β€œI thought you all were above needing anyone.”

The butler said nothing, but the weight of the silence settled between them, a reminder of just how unique this request was. It had been a long time since anyone had dared to ask Sinthral for anything. Their alliance with the Methuselah was not one of friendship. It was one of powerβ€”an equal partnership, in theory. But this request, this child, was something different.

Deon’s instability was not lost on Sage, nor was the dangerous game that lay ahead. To accept such a responsibility meant taking on not only the child’s training but also the fragile politics that came with it. No one dared interfere with the Methuselah’s children, not even Sinthral. But Sage? She had no problem with bending the rules. She had never cared for such trivialities as boundaries.

β€œFine,” she said, her voice as cold as steel, β€œI’ll do it. But rest assured, the child will be handled. I will not go easy on her. I’ve trained far worse than her.”

She paused, looking down at the letter once more, her fingers brushing lightly over the inked symbols. She was fully aware of the stakes at play. The Methuselah had sent their most fragile weapon to Sinthral, and it was her job to either mold it into something useful or watch it fall apart under the weight of its own instability.

Sage Yvonne, leader of Sinthral, had always thrived on chaos. And she would not let this child slip through her grasp.

With a flick of her wrist, she set the letter down on the table beside her, her gaze once again meeting the butler’s with unyielding focus.

β€œYou will let the Imperial Empress know that I will train the child. With the same rigor I’ve used for every other Methuselah.” Her eyes glinted with a dangerous light as she continued. β€œAnd we will see if the child is truly worth the trouble.”

The butler bowed his head and exited without another word, leaving Sage alone with her thoughts.

The faintest smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

Let the games begin.

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Before you start reading God’s Protagonist, make sure to read the following:

  1. Introducing God’s Protagonist: A Dark Fantasy Epic by Fang Dokja [General Info]
  2. The Purpose of β€œGod’s Protagonist”
  3. Content and Trigger Warnings for God’s Protagonist
  4. Why God’s Protagonist is Rated Mature (23+)
  5. Comprehensive Content and Trigger Warnings for God’s Protagonist
  6. How God’s Protagonist Works: Major Arcs and Chapter Posting
  7. Coping with β€œGod’s Protagonist”: Taking Care of Yourself as a Reader