I don't deserve this gift. If the gods truly exist, why didn't they bless everyone in the mines with power? Why didn't they kill the Kalovaxians when they stomped their bloodstained boots on Astrea? They let everyone we love die. My mother. My father. Four of my sisters. My queen. And all the other people who were loved and had families. They let little children die. Children no older than eight. If anyone deserves Guardianship, it's them. Not me. I've killed the innocent and hadn't lifted a finger when I was needed in the mines. The girl I used to share a cot with, Artemisia, told me her suspicions about the gods. But that was a year ago. After that, I only ever saw her working or with this one guard in the Water Mines. Then, she escaped. She didn't bring anyone with her, but the three men who helped rescue her were Guardians. I could feel the power radiating off them in waves. One was an Earth Guardian, the other two were Fire and Air. I resent her for not taking anyone else with her. But, life is life. There's nothing I can do about it. All I can do is sit and watch my home crumble to ruins.
"Move it, Scum," a Kalovaxian voice sneers.
I can't get up. My legs are burning with pain, and I can barely see through the dust of the mines. I curl up into a ball on the ground and hold back tears.
"I said, MOVE IT!" I hear the crack of breaking bones before his hard, metal boot reaches my ribs through my weak arms.
I still don't move. I just cry and curl into my body tighter.
I know I broke quite a few bones. We see it all the time down here, when the soldiers come to check our quotas. My last little sister, Mesiare, broke her left arm so many times thr doctors told her she could never move it again.
But the men kept on hitting her. Soon, she wasn't able to walk, and half of her body was completely paralyzed. We still can't find a real doctor or Air Guardian good enough to fix her. I can't help her. No matter how many stars I wish upon to make me an Air Guardian, I'm still stuck with these useless powers that I cannot control.
A rough hand yanks me up and drags me to the Chamber.
The chamber is one of the deepest, darkest caves in the mines. It pulses with powerful energy, drawing you in so you can never come back. Most never live once they go in. The ones that do are never the same. They usually go mad and  their different powers can't be controlled, they go off at random times, destroying anything in their paths. It takes hundreds of Kalovaxians to even get close to one of the mad ones.
I've been in there a total of five times, each worse than the last. They keep you there for only a few hours, but it always feels like years.
They shove me inside. The air is thick with magic, and it seems to drain the life from me.
It's so, so dark. I can't see, and the smell of rotting magic burns my nostrils. It shouldn't be able to rot, it should have stayed pure and continued to provide Astreans with Guardianship for thousands more years.
But it rotted still. It kills more every day, and will continue to do so long after I die.
I stretch out my limbs and wince. There is a small, shivering figure to my left. It's not uncommon to find someone else down there with you, it's the Kalovaxians' favorite way to punish us. Still, I inch over to the boy, ignoring my pain.
He looks up, wide-eyed and scared. He looks barely over twelve.
"I'm not here to hurt you." I rasp, "What's your name?"
"O- Orion." He stutters. I pull back, his accent isn't the familiar lilt of an Astrean's, it's something different that I can't quite pinpoint.
I force myself over to his side, scratching myself on the sharp crystal stalagmites. "How long have you been down here, Orion?"
"F-four d-d-days,"