My son, Levy... he is so misunderstood. But truthfully, it wasn't always like this.

  Neither was he. Neither was I.

  It wasn't always so bitter, so fractured. At one point, my life was a romance, the kind of love people dreamed of.

  I was just a Zoner woman. Ordinary. Weak by trade standards, my hands not meant for crafting or building. But I had my gift, dancing. I knew how to move my body in ways that spoke louder than words. That was the only art I had.

  And then there was him.

  Levin. An Artimancer. Before he was my husband, he would come down into the Zoner streets, offering food to the poor. I thought he was beautiful, not because he was an Artimancer, not because of the power in his hands... but because he was kind. Compassion, in this place, was rare.

  At that time, I believed the Artimancers were Royals. I didn't understand their hierarchy, their bloodlines. To me, they were mysterious saviors who arrived with food. And Levin, with his strong arms and sharp eyes, became the man I could not look away from.

  I gathered the courage to speak to him. To ask him to see me. At first, he refused. He said I was a Zoner, and that was reason enough to deny me. But my charm, my persistence... it wore him down. He hated my orange hair, called it ugly, until one day he couldn't stop touching it.

  We spent nights together. Nights where he was supposed to be distributing food, but instead, he'd be in my arms. I felt guilty, but I also felt alive. That was love to me.

  And then... one night, under a starless sky, I conceived Levy. I remember it vividly. Every detail etched into me.

  Months passed, and my belly grew. But I couldn't tell anyone. Levin begged me not to. He said it would shame him to father a child with a Zoner. He didn't even come to the hospital when Levy was born. He said it was "inappropriate." My heart broke that night. I wanted to shout our love from rooftops, but instead, I gave birth in silence.

  Stolen story; please report.

  And then Levin made a plan. A dangerous, delusional plan.

  He told me he could make me an Artimancer. That he could make Levy one too. That way, we could live together in his colony. He said it was possible, that bloodlines weren't everything, that he had a method.

  I followed him, foolishly, into the Artimancer colony. It was small, maybe fifty people. At first, I thought it could be a home. But what I saw there horrified me. Their disdain for Zoners was venomous. Their doctrines were twisted. Even women were treated as less than men.

  And then I saw it: Levin believed it too. He tried to convince me that it was normal, that it was "just the way things were." He wanted me to accept it. But I couldn't.

  I told him I would rather remain a Zoner than live in a delusion where people are measured by land, blood, or skill. I wanted a world for Levy where he could be free, not chained to false hierarchies.

  Levin's anger that night still echoes in my ears. He called me filth. Trash. A mistake. He said he'd rather live with Levy alone than live with me in the Zona districts.

  And so he cast me aside.

  I was broken. But rage kept me alive. Rage, and something else, inspiration. Because I had seen Lonnie fight. Even when she was younger, her power, her fire... it awakened something in me.

  I picked up a sword. At first, I was clumsy, weak. But then... my body remembered its rhythm. My dance became combat. My art awakened. And I became a Zoner Knight. Lanni herself trained me. She gave me strength, gave me purpose.

  Through her, I learned the truth. Artimancers weren't Royals. They weren't gods. They were just Zoners with trade instead of art. But they'd convinced themselves they were better. The Royals despised us both, artists and Zoners, but Artimancers clung to their pride, blind to how little separated us.

  Trade. Art. Skill. Craft. All of it requires study, sacrifice, imagination. But humans... humans will divide anything.

  Now my son is older, and he hates me. He doesn't understand the systems designed to keep us beneath the Royals. He only knows what Levin fed him, that his father is strong, noble, royal-adjacent. That his mother is poor, weak, shameful.

  And I admit... I failed him. In the beginning, I didn't fight hard enough to be in his life. I thought it would be easier to let him stay with Levin. I told myself it was best for him. But that was my weakness, my mistake.

  Later, I fought for him. I stood before the Royal courts and won partial custody. But by then, the damage was done. Levin had filled his head with lies. My son looks at me now and sees only poverty, weakness, shame.

  I don't know if I'll ever reach him. But gods know... I wish he could see the truth. I wish he could see how much I love him.