The heavily armed guards dragged me across the spotless marble floors for my audience with the king. I had been standing outside the royal palace with the members of my organization, Equality For All, for what seemed like weeks to simply have a moment and discuss our demands with those in charge.

It seemed like today was the day when I could finally be able to represent our cause.

My arms ached from the grip of the guards as I looked around the spatial rooms I passed through. Glistening chandeliers, expansive rooms, gold trimmed furniture and heavily adorned ceiling were all I could see. But I knew the layout of the rooms were an illusion for any unannounced vistor. If I came in tomorrow, the halls and furniture would be in completely different places preventing any unwanted visitor from memorizing the layout.

Magic empowered them, magic protected them, and anyone without magic, were deemed second class citizens, unafforded the same protection and opportunities as magical members of Tanneria.

When they arrived to the Grand Hall, he felt a pressure on his knees, pulling him down to the floor. Guards were forcing him to kneel it seemed. He fought against it as much as possible, but still his knees moved closer and closer to the floor. They hit the floor and when he tried to lift his head to glance at who sat on the throne that day, his neck was locked in a way where he could only see the floor beneath him.

One of the guards, dressed in the royal blue uniform and with boots polished unnaturally, announced,

“Your majesty, this is one of the lead protestors disturbing the peace. What are your orders?”

There was a significant pause as I struggled in my position on the floor hoping to be able to see who decided my fate.

“Let him speak.” The voice was female, melodic and calming. He felt his muscles instantly relax after hearing it, like a wave of soothing water crashing into every ache in his body. The effect of her words at first calmed him, but then he stiffened when he realized this was one of her magical powers. An empath.

Still unable to lift his head to look at her, he spoke as clearly as he could,

“Your majesty, the members of my organization and I have been hard at work to nominate some solutions to the unequal policies in your kingdom. Many of us were raised in magical families, were taught in the same schools, but ever since we turned 17 and our powers have not appeared, we have been treated as outcasts in our own communities. I am no longer able to live in my ancestral home, visit friends I have known for years, or be employed in prestigious government positions. Despite my education and my name, I am treated as a laborer only, as if I had no thoughts or ambitions of my own. This lack of freedom is truly archaic and cannot go on any further. I refuse to be complacent in a system that does not honor my legacy as well as others.”

Even though he could not see her face, he knew that it was frozen in disapproval. No one spoke to the royal family in that matter. Well, they are going to have to get used to it. He knew that she wished she could end me, but with my bloodline and popularity with the non-magical members of society, she would have a riot on her hands. So he remained kneeling unwillingly, and waited for her reply.