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AMARIN I

Amarin sucked in a breath, knife in hand. It was two in the morning, and here he was, sitting in what he could only imagine was the grossest bathtub on Aiona. If the planets of the Galactic Republic were to host a competition, it'd be a serious contender for first place.

Aionans envisioned the cosmos outside of their Republic as a wasteland where all lived in squalor. They didn't realize it was only the deepest dregs who did, as it was here. It might've even been worse.

Back in Qashar, the well-off saw to it that the poor were clothed and fed. How else could they expect them to scrub their floors, prepare their meals, look after their brood? It was poor practice to neglect one's possessions.

Melexes had told Amarin once he learned that the hard way. He hadn't intended for Amarin's mother, Evethe, to get pregnant. It was quite the setback for his business. When he asked her who the father could be, she said she had no clue. He hadn't been able to beat or cajole an answer out of her for the sixteen years since, so there wasn't even anybody else to shoulder the burden.

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Amarin glanced at the rickety door. Locked.

Melexes could hack through it in minutes with those curving black claws if he woke up, but Amarin could slit his throat in seconds. A death on his own terms was better than a life of servitude.

What am I waiting for?

He had wrapped the cloth tight around his arm just below the shoulder and tied the pen in over it. The shirt he had been wearing was slung over the knapsack on the counter. Everything was ready and the night was running out.

This is my chance, he told himself, to become a Seto.

Even now, the word made his heart skip a beat. They'll give me a sword of glowing crystal and show me how to control the magic in my veins, the magic their god put in me. I won't live in fear for another day of my life.

All he had to do now was cut the tracker out. He pressed the point of his knife into his arm. A drop of blood such a rich red that it was almost black ran down his skin.

If he didn't manage it, he'd kill himself quick enough.

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