Chapter Text
Once upon a time, in the country of Copper Atomica, there was a war. This was no ordinary war between men and brothers, but a war between werewolves, vampires, and humans. There was no peace, you could trust nobody from outside your village or town. As the war waged on, human children were kidnapped from the streets and converted into lycanthropes. Teenage human children were sacrificed to bloodthirsty vampires in exchange for safety. Only the children of noble families and landowners were safe from the terrors common folk and orphans had to face. One town, quite a prosperous one, named Copper Nine, was one of the many who sacrificed one male and one female child to the bloodsuckers.
Every year on the first Wednesday of the first month, every child between the ages of twelve to seventeen were gathered in the square in the presence of the Doorman family. Parents dreaded the day, knowing that the possibility of their child being ripped from their arms and sacrificed to vampires. Today was that day, it was marked with a celebration in the Doorman household that concluded the day. Many common folk looked upon the nobles with disgust and disdain, but it isn’t like they could revolt. What would they do if they succeeded? They had no leader!
This time, it was a special one for the Doorman family. It would be the first one their eldest child, Uzi, could attend. She was ten years old and insisted that her dad, Khan, let her go with. Initially, Khan had said no, it was too risky, but the baby doll eyes, Uzi’s signature scam, were too much to say no to and Khan cracked. She was dressed in a dark purple dress made by her family’s tailor and stood politely next to her father. He was waiting for the crowd of teenagers to organize themselves after they finish hugging and crying into their parents’ arms. All of which he made sure Uzi didn’t see so she didn’t start crying as well. That would be a hassle within itself.
“Papa?” Uzi called, tugging on Khan’s arm and looking up at him.
“Yes, Uzi?” Khan responded, looking at her.
“Why is mama not attending?” Uzi asked, tilting her head curiously.
Khan hesitated a moment before he responded. It was clear as day that he was trying to figure out how to word it for Uzi. She looked expectantly at him and he sighed. “Mama is tired, Uzi. She sends her best wishes and wants to hear about your day when we return.”
“Oh,” Uzi muttered, “Okay…”
The disappointment was obvious by her tone, but Khan ignored it. Before they knew it, the time had come for the drawing of names. Khan smiled and turned to Uzi before announcing.
“Uzi, my dearest first born, would you like to do the drawing of names?” Khan asked, holding his hand out to her.
Uzi’s eyes widened in shock and she nodded. Khan looked at her with a stern face. Use your words, she could almost hear him say, noble ladies use their words. “Yes, father, I would be honored.”
In front of her, a large glass orb sat. Hesitantly, Uzi stepped forward and reached her hand in. For a few moments, Uzi slid her hand around the mass of paper slips which had names written on them. After these few minutes had passed, Uzi knew she couldn’t stall any longer and pulled a name out. It felt weird in her hands, being such a small paper that could change someone’s life so quickly. Confusing. Shakily, Uzi handed it to Khan so he could read it to the crowd.
Unfolding the paper, he smiled and cleared his throat.
“Vivienne Fallingbrook! Please come to the stage!” he called into the crowd. The crowd responded with silence before some of the girls hollowed a circle around one. A thirteen year old commoner with short silver hair and brown eyes. She looked terrified and began to cry. Uzi didn’t recognize her but something about the girl’s reaction overwhelmed her with guilt. This girl’s fate had been sealed and it was unchangeable. Another girl, this one in pigtails, screamed and tried to run to Vivienne, but two adults restrained her.
“Vivi! No! Vivienne! Vivienne! Please!” The girl cried as Vivienne wiped her tears and gave her a smile. She began to walk towards the wooden stage and ignored the other female’s screams.
Vivienne stepped onto the stage and stood between Uzi and Khan. She was so much taller than Uzi that she had to crane her neck to see Vivienne clearly. Uzi admired the older girl’s hair and dress, as bland as it was. Khan ignored the girl and reached into a different glass jar, this one just as large and full as its counterpart. After about five minutes of rifling through the papers, he finally pulled out a small piece of paper, nearly identical to the one Uzi had. Still oblivious to the true horror of this event, Uzi smiled and even grabbed hold of Vivienne’s hand.
“Nicholas Turnstone! You have been selected!” Khan announced. This time there were several shrieks, this time all from the adult crowd. A mother and father and an older sister screamed when the name was called. Just as it had with Vivienne, the crowd of boys shied away from one in particular. Nicholas Turnstone. He had snowy white hair and gray eyes. Like a ghost, Uzi thought. She recognized this boy as the one who sold flowers and tended to her personal garden in the castle. Uzi knew that Nicholas was twelve years old, only two years older than she.
The two selected teens stood on the stage, perfectly still. Uzi had long since let go of Vivienne’s hand. It was trembling too much for the young girl’s liking. Maybe they’d see each other again at the party tonight! Uzi could introduce Vivienne and Nicholas to her mother! Oh that would be splendid! Wait, but something wasn’t right. Why was the crowd filing away? Where were those guards dragging Vivienne and Nicholas off to?! What was going on?! In a moment of panic and adrenaline, Uzi’s vision blurred and she felt herself fall forwards. The last thing she heard was her father shouting and gravel shifting as two of her father’s soldiers ran over to her before everything went silent and Uzi’s vision went black.