I should have known that Dorian and his idiotic squad wouldn’t allow me safe passage home after my Marking Ceremony. I rarely made it through a trip into town without a run-in with them.
I slowed my jog at the sight of their ugly faces. They stood at the end of the dirt road leading out of town, competing against one another with how many lizards each could kill with the throw of a rock. They hadn’t noticed my approach yet, but I knew they were waiting for me.
I glanced down the road past them and then around them, but I had already passed the mass of buildings in the city, and other landmarks that might provide enough cover for me to sneak past were nonexistent. I turned over my right shoulder and looked briefly at the city that had grown distant behind me.
Maybe my best bet was to trek a mile into the city again, then trail around and take another road back to the hovel. It would take a good deal longer, at least another hour or two, but I preferred that over a beating from some stupid bullies. On top of everything else that had happened today, I did not want to deal with them.
As I thought about those things, I turned around myself and moved back toward the center of Edrona. But it was too late. They had already seen me.
“Hey, Pale Skinned!”
I exhaled heavily through my nose and pivoted agonizingly slowly in order to face the group. I was still about twenty feet away from them, but I could clearly see the malicious smirks on their faces.
“What do you want, Dorian?”
Dorian’s grin grew, white teeth flashing underneath the moonlight. He waved a hand forward, commanding his cronies to fall in at his side, and then all four began their march toward me.
“We just wanted to see how your Marking Ceremony went. Didn’t we, boys?”
My shoulders tensed as they approached. Phantom aches and pains flared up in the various places they had pummeled and bruised me in the past.
“We all, of course, came out Marked,” Dorian continued, gesturing at himself and his companions. “We have some rather interesting Tier 1 Skills to test out now. And our Soul Strength levels aren’t bad, either.”
His friends nodded enthusiastically as they pounded their stubby fists together, anticipating a good beating.
“Let me guess,” I said, “your Skill increased your hideousness? It’s working already!”
Dorian sneered but otherwise ignored my comment. “What are you, Pale Skinned? Marked or UnMarked?”
Dorian’s nose was just inches away from mine at this point, but I dug my shoes deeper into the rocky floor and tried to stand taller. It didn’t do much, though. Dorian still towered over me by a head and a half.
“What’s it to you whether I’m Marked or not?”
Dorian threw a rock up into the air, then caught it in his other hand. “Oh, we’re just curious. You can’t blame us for that. Surely, you know that everyone in Edrona has wondered what the mysterious ‘baby born from the desert’ would come out as.”
Of course I knew that. I was more than aware, trust me. And I had heard that term, “baby born from the desert,” my entire life. I had never been… a real person to most of the Edronans. Just a bizarre object that appeared from seemingly nowhere in the middle of the desert. All the more reason I felt angry to be UnMarked, and angry that I would have to share that fact with the people who had, and continued to, mistreat me.
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“Come on, Weakling.” Dorian teased.
I rolled my eyes. “Weakling,” one of the many stupid nicknames that people liked to throw at me.
“It doesn’t matter. Just let me pass.”
I tried to shove past Dorian, but his three companions lined up behind him and blocked my path. I bounced off of Dorian, the force of my shove backfiring on me. As I stumbled back and struggled to catch myself, Dorian didn’t even seem fazed.
Is he stronger than he had been before? Now that he’s advanced to Tier 1…?
“You must be UnMarked, huh?” Dorian wiggled his eyebrows. “Otherwise, you would have told me you were Marked already.”
I could feel the heat growing in my face. “Shut up, Dorian.”
“Oh?” Dorian threw his head back and shared a laugh with his compatriots. “That’s some big talk for an UnMarked.”
Before I could comprehend what I was doing, my fist met with Dorian’s square jaw. His face flew to his left, but instead of flinching in pain, his smile only grew. But even if he didn’t feel pain from the hit, I definitely did. I shook my fingers and hissed at the sting of newly cracked knuckles. I had hit him hard.
“You want to play, UnMarked? Fine. Let’s play!”
I instantly regretted my punch. I had never been able to hold my own against these four bullies in the past, and now they had all advanced to Tier 1. But I couldn’t help myself! Dorian using the word “UnMarked” like he did with all my other nicknames inflamed all of the hatred and anger I had already harbored for him.
But as Dorian and his three cronies bent into fight-ready stances, I inwardly chastised myself for allowing myself to do something so dumb as punching him in the face.
The bullies had no actual structure as they attacked. Gregor and Milar, who stood at Dorian’s right, lunged themselves at me with fists flying. I managed to dodge about two-thirds of their blows but doubled over as more than a few punches met with my gut.
As I fought to rise from the ground, I caught sight of Dorian circling his hands in front of his face.
He’s casting a spell.
I forced my arms underneath me and heaved myself up. I had no idea what Dorian’s new Tier 1 Skill was, but I didn’t want to find out. I weaved in between Gregor and Milar and prepared myself to bolt but was caught by Dorian’s other friend, Owin. His pudgy arms squeezed around my middle like the grip of a snake wrapping around its prey.
I kicked my legs frantically, both feet now lifted off the ground as Owin pulled me up. All of these boys were definitely stronger than they had been before. It was slight but noticeable.
Dorian finished his hand circles, then threw his fingers in my direction. Suddenly, a pile of rocks took to the air, then soared over Dorian’s head at impressive speeds. Then, each rock hurled its way toward the exposed parts of my body; my legs, my knees, my arms, a few on my chest; and at least three stones impacted my cheek, and one sent pain shooting through my head as it struck the corner of my left eye.
The rocks were small, and even through the chaos, I could ascertain that he had only sent the smaller loose stones and left the larger ones untouched–thank the goddess. Possibly because his Tier 1 Skill limited what Dorian could control with his mind. But telekinesis, even at a weaker Tier 1 level, was an impressive Skill and would be extremely useful to Dorian–no matter what profession he chose.
Jealousy crept its way into my chest, but I pushed it down. Dorian was the last person I wanted to feel envious of.
“What are you going to do? Kill me?” I choked past Owin’s tight grip. “You know the punishment for murdering other Edronans! They’ll put you–all of you–through the Soul Ripper!”
The Soul Ripper, a device I’d never seen before and had only heard of, was hidden deep underneath the Temple of Euridice's main level. It was only ever used in severe cases, like murder, which didn’t happen often in our city. But it did happen… occasionally. Not in my lifetime had it happened, but Drayek had mentioned remembering one or two Soul Ripper punishments in the last 50 years.
I had heard through whisperings and rumors that the Soul Ripper didn't kill the criminal; it tore apart his or her Soul, a fate much worse than a mere death. Before the long and excruciating death, your Soul–your very being and everything that made up who you were–was destroyed, making it impossible for any chance at a happy afterlife. Or so I heard.
“Well…” Dorian licked his lips, “the law states that I would be sent to the Soul Ripper if I kill an Edronan.” He paused. “You’re not Edronan.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to think of a solution–an escape–anything! But I could do nothing against Owin’s stranglehold. I dared a peek at Dorian, and he was moving his hands in circles again. Gregor was also waving his stubby arms in preparation for casting a spell.
“What’s going on here?”