It was a dark room. There were no windows or cracks in the walls through which light could enter. If it were not for the glowing runes on the floor, it would have been impossible to see anything.

The runes seemed alive, connecting with each other in strange ways at strange angles, forming what seemed to be words that twisted and coiled around like snakes. Then the snakes would break apart and the runes would slide away before connecting with others again, forming a cycle that repeated itself over and over.

The moving runes formed different shapes and had different sizes, but somehow they were all restrained to a single area, moving only in set paths, forming what seemed to be a circle. At the center of the circle lied a boy. His black hair and eyes were quite common, as was his face. The only thing out of the norm on him was the frightened expression he had as if he was about to cry.

In front of him, a tall man was standing. His ravenous black eyes were intently staring the boy at his feet, a shred of excitement and ruthlessness giving them a cruel glint. His hair was as black as his eyes and reached his shoulders. His face seemed to be chiseled, with sharp angles and a certain handsomeness.

The man kneeled, reaching the same eye level as the boy. His voice was serene as he spoke. "I need you to be brave, son. This is going to hurt, but you can't leave. It is okay to cry and scream if you want, but never move from where you are."

With that, the man turned his back at him and step away from the strange circle made by the runes. He didn't spare a glance to the terrified expression his son had as he started to desperately struggle, but seemed to be restrained by the air itself.

He stood in a corner of the room, by the side of a small man that had been silent the whole time. This man's face was hidden behind wriggling shadows, making him look menacing. The tall man gave him a nod before observing his son with unmoving eyes.

The man hidden by the shadows bent a knee and touched two runes on the floor with his hands. He gave a sneaky look at the terrified boy in the center of the array with eyes full of pity. This was going to hurt a lot. He took a deep breath and a strange pulse seemed to flow through his arms, hitting the runes he was touching.

The two runes started glowing with a blinding golden light that eventually spread through all the other runes on the floor. A strange humming sound was emitted, as if they were resonating.

Then, hell began.

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Amon woke up abruptly. He felt pain all over his body and he was drenched in cold sweat. His clothes clung to his body, making him feel restrained and uncomfortable. His body was heavy and he felt as if he hadn't caught a wink of sleep. It was the same nightmare every time.

He dejectedly threw the white linen sheets covering him to the side. He sat on the bed and slowly got up, feeling the warm wooden floor under his feet. He walked to the window, through which cracks of light could already be seen, dimly illuminating his small room.

He opened the creaking windows made of wooden boards and the sun greeted him, hanging up above in a bright blue sky. The light lit up his room.

His bed was close to the wall, the bedding stained by his sweat. A small and neat desk was in the wall opposite to it, with a few pieces of paper and a pen still sitting on it. A black mat lied in the center of the room. In another wall, Amon had hanged a simple mirror and put a small table below it, where he usually let a basin filled with water to wash himself in the morning.

Amon stood in front of the mirror, washed his face and rinsed his mouth. He still felt weary. When he looked at the mirror, he saw his youthful face, framed by black hair that contrasted his strange golden eyes. Dark circles caused by his not-so-well slept night surrounded his golden eyes, making them seem like lamps in the dark.

He ran his fingers through his black hair but felt something was off. He looked at his hand and saw a black stain tainting his skin.

He couldn't help but sigh. He would have to buy a new batch of black nuts soon. He rubbed his hand hard, but only managed to dampen a little of the stain. Giving up, Amon took off his wet clothes and used a towel washed his body with the water in the basin. He kicked a chest next to his bed open and put on a fresh set of white clothes.

He exited his room, heading straight to the shabby kitchen in his house. He looked at the old iron pot in the countertop and saw that there was still some rice porridge left over from last night. He carefully reheated it and served it in a small bowl.

Carrying the food, he went past the living room, if you could even call it that. It was just a table and a few chairs in the biggest room in the house. He arrived in front of a wooden door, on which he gently knocked twice.

"Come in." A weak voice answered. Amon carefully opened the door, getting inside his mother's room. The window by the bed was already open, letting Amon see the room clearly. It was very similar to his own, but there was no desk or mat, there was just a bed, a mirror, a small table and a chest to store clothes.

"Mom, I brought some food." Amon slowly walked to her bed, carefully placing the bowl in his mother's hand and offering her a spoon. His mother smiled brightly before accepting the spoon from his hand.

Her hands were a bit shriveled and her arms thin. She could barely hold the bowl alone. Her blond hair was thin and frail, its color looking more like sand than the golden luster it used to have. Her face was pale and her cheeks a bit sunken. Her bright eyes were misty, not as clear as they used to be. She looked decades older than her actual age.

"You did eat some, right?" She asked, worry showing in her face. Her voice was weak, but her tone was as gentle as ever.

Amon nodded repeatedly to assure her before changing the subject. "I'll need to go exchange some contribution points. We need more rice and vegetables and I need more black nuts, too."

His mother couldn't help but giggle a little at his serious tone. She beckoned to him, telling him to approach. Amon quietly sat by her side on the bed. His mother started to gently ruffle his hair. Amon quite liked the pleasant feeling. He closed his eyes as he enjoyed her spoiling of him.

Suddenly, she lightly poked at his shoulder. Amon opened his eyes and saw her showing her hand, where a faint stain of black could be seen. He avoided her gaze, feeling a bit ashamed.

"Why don't you forget about the black nuts? You could save the few points you use on it every week and you could have a lot to use for yourself after a few months." She had started ruffling his hair again as she spoke, casting a lovingly gaze at him.

"I need them, mom. I don't need anything for myself, having them is enough for me." He still didn't face her. If he did, he knew he would lose the discussion and give in.

She started poking him again, this time at his belly, trying to make him laugh at the tickling.

"I'm already thirteen, don't do that!"

"Oh, I'm sorry mister grown up. You are old enough to refuse my tickles, but not so old that you want me to stop ruffling your hair, are you?"

Amon grumbled at her comment before giving up and facing her. She poked his nose as she smiled. "You know I love your hair, don't you? And your eyes, I find them so beautiful. You should really stop with the black nuts Amon."

"I'm sorry mom, but not yet. Let me keep buying them for a bit longer, alright?" He felt dejected as he spoke, his shoulders drooped and his head hung low.

"Sigh. Fine, but you have to promise me to stop it within the next month, or I'll get mad, alright?" She gave up too. If she could compromise here, she could have him make a promise in the long term. Then, he wouldn't have any excuses. She extended her pinky finger to him.

"It is a pinky promise. Or are you too old for that, too?" Before he could even speak she had cut off his path of retreat. Amon could only accept his defeat.

"Fine. A pinky promise." He held her pinky with his. Her smile widened.

"Now go, it is a beautiful day outside and I don't want you inside this house all day losing on this great sun."

"I'm off."

"Have a great day."

Amon got up and left the room, but left the door open. His mother liked it more when her door was open, she didn't feel as restrained. Even with a window by her side, all she could do was to dream about going outside again.

Amon entered the living room, making his way to the main door. He stopped in the way, directing his gaze at the wall on his right. A strange sword was hanging on the wall. The scabbard was completely black and looked like some kind of glass. The thin single-edged blade was slightly curved, made for slashing and chopping and was as black as the scabbard. The sword had no guard.

Amon didn't know if it would affect the handling or the balance of the weapon as it had a strange design, but the lack of a guard made it seem menacing even in its sheath. It was a sword made with only killing in mind, focusing on being swift and aggressive, forgoing defense in exchange of efficiency in murder.

Amon had never held the sword in question, even less unsheathed it, but he had seen his father putting it to action. Raven, he called it. Even if he held curiosity towards it, he had no affection whatsoever to the weapon, just hate. If his mother hadn't been so persistent on leaving it there he would have sold it away at the first chance he had.

He felt his mood was going to be ruined, so he forgot about the sword and left the house. As soon as he got out he caught sight of an expansive sea of trees. They were all incredibly tall, their leaves lush.

Amon lived with his mother in the northern outskirts of the Abyss Sect, as a member of the Outer Sect. The sect's headquarters was in a mountain eerily named Hell's Keeper Mountain. It was massive in scale and the surrounding land was not only fertile but was also not lacking in streams and rivers.

Members of the Outer Sect tended to the farms and the livestock and lived on the ground level. All of the land and animals belonged to the sect, so people were only working for the sect as they managed them. They exchanged their work to receive contribution points, which they could use to buy almost anything. From food and medicine to technique manual and cultivation pills, from classes and guidance from specialized teacher to a few hours in the infamous Red Quarters.

Contribution points were needed to rent land and housing too. The closer you lived to Hell's Keeper Mountain, the more expensive rent was and the higher your standing in the Outer Sect. It was even possible to buy your way into the Inner Sect if you had enough contribution points.

If the Outer Sect was in the ground level, the Inner Sect was in the mountain itself. People in the Inner Sect lived with just one worry: cultivation. The sect covered all of their daily needs, and the Elders would handle any specific requests or troubles they might have as long as it was worth the trouble. Similarly to the Outer Sect, the closer to the peak you lived, the higher your standing not only in the Inner Sect, but in the Abyss Sect as a whole.

Amon turned south, looking at the massive mountain in front of him. He couldn't even see its complete width, much less the peak hidden in the white clouds that swirled around the mountain. He felt intimidated just looking at it, almost being crushed by its sheer size.

He slowly made his way to the mountain, making sure to enjoy the fresh air and the cold breeze that blew from the forest at his back.