Yui'loon

The Republic of Ilasha

The Eighth Creed

November 17, 4157 A.D.

"How am I supposed to stand, sir?" a mirthon girl asked.

Her dark blue hair was grimy, seaweed still hanging from her shoulders as if she'd just come from the sea not an hour ago. Her gills amazed Yui'loon. He had never seen a mirthon before, immediately taken by her uniqueness. There were said to be only a few mirthon shadows.

Instructor Malgo smashed his fist into her cheek. She stumbled back and fell to the ground, clutching her jaw as tears formed in her eyes. She glanced up at the elders for aid, her gaze fear stricken. The elders watched on from their high seats with patience. None of the other children stepped forward, standing straight as they were told.

"That's what happens when you speak without being spoken to first. If you wish to keep your tongue girl, I'd suggest getting back to your feet."

The girl crawled forward, pushing herself up, imitating the stance of the other students. It wasn't perfect but still, the instructor didn't bother to correct her small mistakes. Yui'loon had never seen her around The Creeds before so it wasn't surprising that she didn't know their ways. Everybody knew that the elders had the power to end one's ability to breathe if they were displeased.

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The instructor paired groups of two, one girl and one boy. Once he got to the mirthon, he glared at her. He observed the sheet before shaking his head and continuing, "Yui'loon and Pethelany."

"Are you alright?" Yui'loon asked once at her side.

She nodded, running her fingers over her bruised cheek, "I don't know why I'm here. The elders said they would take care of me after my mother and father passed."

"Shut up," the instructor shouted. "You'll have plenty of time to get to know one another. The person you were assigned to is your life now. You will be trained together, punished together, beaten together, you'll kill together, and one day, if you pass, you'll marry and have children together. You'll die together so you'd better get used to the person next to you because if you can't become one with your partner, you'll never prove yourself as a capable shadow of The Creeds."

"What's a shadow?" Pethelany whispered.

"How do you not know, where are you from? We're assassins that do the bidding of Dethaalis," Yui'loon whispered. "But stop talking before we're both punished."

Elder Seryual stepped forward, his hair black as night and his eyes red as a crow's. He appeared human but it was unknown of what he actually was. Unlike the rest of the elders who could walk through shadows, Seryual could manipulate and use them to his benefit. He was the king of The Creeds. The master of darkness.

"Children, I know that at the age of four training will be strenuous, many of you will perish along the way, but this is your responsibility. You must take up the mantle of your ancestors. The few that survive will be feared by all men. I will personally oversee your progress and any of you who prove your worth may even earn my eye."

After scanning over the class, Seryual's terrifyingly vibrant red eyes lingered over Yui'loon. Shivers pulsed through his body, turning his eyes from the elder. Even after he could feel the elder's watchful gaze. He hadn't a clue what it meant.