The world was dark, the magic was thick, and every man, woman, and child had it. Sometimes, the magic was like thick smoke. Other times, it was light and thin. The figures in his dreams smoked in two, three, four colours or more.

  Marcus woke and opened his eyes, twitching and buzzing. He felt the cold wind of the night street.

  —----------

  The next time they went to the market, Gabe sat in his usual spot, and Marcus sat further up the road next to the vendors. For the next few days, nothing happened. The people ignored him, and the coin he got grew less and less over the days. perhaps he should have preyed that it stayed this way.

  Two young men appeared in the street, and as they moved, the people stepped aside, giving them curious looks. And those who didn’t were pushed aside by the two large Goliath guards. Each of the two young men carried a dagger on their belt on open display, something most citizens of Desa could not do.

  “Are you sure it wasn’t some rumors about a beggar boy," Terlim asked.

  “Yes, I am sure, I asked around, and the commoners in the nobles wards told me we would find him here,” Raltein said.

  “Tsk, let’s be done with this, if he is as interesting as you say, Perhaps this won’t be a waste of time,” Terlim said.

  “Am telling you it’s true, “the pudgy boy, Raltein, said.

  And when the two Aasimar and their Goliath guards stopped in front of a young man. They saw that the boy's skin was the colour of earth, and his eyes were unique and different. One eye was the dull black of the humans, and the other had the golden iris of the Aasimar. The boy looked like a true abomination. He was imperfect and incomplete.

  The young beggar smelled foul and was covered in dirt. His dirty rags, along with his body, which was all skin and bone, made the taller of the two young men wrinkle his nose.

  “They should have killed you and your mother. To let such impurity be. Disgusting!” Terlim said, covering his nose with a cloth.

  “Raltein, you should have him get off the street. It's embarrassing for us,” Terlim said.

  “How am I supposed to do that?” Raltein looked up at Terlim, rubbing his hands uncertainly.

  “You can use your new spell form, the commoners won’t see the wind magic.”

  “Are you sure about this? “

  “Go on, you wanted to show me,” He pushed Raltein in front of the beggar. “This is a good test . Your father can pay the fine for you using magic in this dump."

  They knew that in many cities, magic was frowned upon, and its use was decreed for the sole protection of the people. In other places, only those tied to a noble house were allowed to use it openly. This especially applied to users of innate magic—those select few with the ability to use magic without ever studying it. These people would quickly find a Noble House to tie themselves to and, more often than not, live lives without restriction over their magic.

  “Okay, okay.” Raltein looked around, and seeing most people going about their business, he pulled out a small piece of Katch paper. He then took a few moments to read the spell, memorize it and a moment later, the pudgy boy started chanting under his breath.

  Marcus had sat silently, wishing for the two young men to run along, when the slight breeze around him suddenly stopped, and his lungs begun to strain for air. He looked at the young, pudgy man standing with his hand stretched out.

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  Was he doing something? Marcus tried breathing deeply and in a controlled manner, but that didn't seem to help. his hand went to his burning chest, and he tried to take a deep breath, but he felt his lungs constrict like his nose had been plugged.

  'Is this magic?' he asked, looking up at the pudgy young man. 'Is he the one doing this?'

  Although he had seen magic in his short time here, Marcus was not expecting to be attacked using a spell. After all, he was a beggar, and it would seem such a waste.

  “What is going on?” Marcus's hands went to his burning chest. He couldn’t breathe and he feeling was just getting worse. He looked at the young man casting the spell and didn’t know what to do. He looked around and tried begging for help, but no one was looking at him.

  “Stop you fucker.”

  Marcus reached out for the young man, his fist as fast as he could make it. The fat young man stepped back with a broad grin, avoiding the beggar's striking arm.

  “You can’t do this,” he growled out.

  Raltein tried even harder, and Marcus felt his vision starting to become dizzy.

  “Who's going to stop me?” the aasimar asked.

  Marcus turned to the only person who he believed could help him.

  “Help me!” Marcus looked to said and watched as Gabe who had already been watching squinted his eyes, meeting the other boy's.

  “Help me.”

  For a moment, his gaze met Gabe's, and for a moment, he thought the worst. The other boy didn't seem to realize what was going on. He looked between the two, Aasimar and Marcus, then noticed the katch paper and the outstretched arm of one of the boys. Gabe's eyes widened, and without a second of delay, he shouted and pointed.

  “Magic! They are doing Magic,” Gabe rose to his feet and pointed at the young man.

  All the people in the sprawling market stopped wherever they were, whatever they were doing, and looked around in panic and to where Gabe was pointing, none willing to be the subject of any misplaced magic. Those who saw the casters gave them a wide berth, pushing into their standing neighbours and causing a small commotion in the marketplace.

  The noise and sudden chaos caused Raltein to lose his focus, forcing him to look around at the many eyes on him. He sheepishly rubbed his hands to hide the fact he had been casting and made to put on a brave front in front of his lessers.

  “He is using magic.” one voice said.

  “Magic!”

  “Out in the open!”

  “ what kind of Magic!”

  The many market-dwellers gawking at the unsanctioned display of Magic gave the pudgy boy a sense of importance as he puffed up his chest, basking in their adoration. It also gave Marcus the chance to run away.

  “He's fleeing,” Terlim said, and Raatein turned back to see Marcus shambling away.

  “Guards go after him, catch him and don’t let him get away,” he ordered the two goliath guards under his father's employ.

  The Goliath guards did not waste time. They ran forward as fast as their large bodies could move, and when Marcus glimpsed back, he could see he was not faster than the two guards who were quickly closing in. His famished body was not as well built as the two men chasing him. He took as many turns as he thought possible to confuse and mislead his pursuers and came to an alley where he hoped to catch his breath away from the two overzealous young men and their guards. Fighting for a street rat like him, as he had become, was not an option. If he fought a citizen of Desa city and was caught, he would be subject to whipping for disturbing the peace. If he was killed by these citizens, no one would care, so he had to be careful with his actions. Unfortunately, when he came to a stop in an alley and tried to breathe and understand why he had been attacked, the guards of the two young men caught up with him. "Listen, guys, I have nothing...uhh," he whizzed, his ears burning from the short run. Why don't you just go back and tell them you didn't find me ...uhh?"

  "It's not the job we get paid for," one of the Goliaths shrugged and stepped closer to grab Marcus, his partner following closely behind.

  "Wait," he raised his hands out as the goliaths stepped closer. You do not have to do this," he looked around and cursed. Of all places, of course, he had to stop and catch his breath at a dead end. As he turned back to face the two towering men, a hand shot forward and grabbed his hand, and as he tried to pull away, another large hand, larger than his head, grabbed him by his other shoulder. "You fuckers can't do this," he tried to free one of his hands to punch one of them, an when he managed that the Goliath seemed unaffected by the blow, the man squeezed into his shoulder and causing him to wince from the pain. Marcus struggled against the two goliaths, but unlike Zek and Geneve, these two were miles apart in strength from the half-starved human-goliath siblings. The hands grabbed him and pushed him to the wall, holding him still.

  It did not take long for a figure of one of the young men to turn around the corner as he walked with an air of superiority. “Can you believe this, someone with your eyes running like a dog and begging these-- these people,” Termil said as he walked closer disgust and contempt lacing his every word.

  A second later, the wider group of the two figures joined him. “Did they catch him?” Reltain came around the corner, breathing heavily and supporting his bulk with hands on his knees.

  Marcus was dragged forward, winded and half starved, he fought to free himself, but he was slammed into the wall, and he felt pain jolt through his entire body. “You can still fight, good. you can pay for making us run. Raltein give me your dagger.” he raised his hand calling or the dagger.

  “My dagger? why?” Reltain’s hand moved protectively and hesitantly. “Just give it to me. You're the one who let him run away,” he stretched out his hand, asking. Slowly, the pudgy young man unsheathed his dagger and handed it over to Terlim.

  “What are you going to do with it?” “I am going to purify this half breed. hold his head,” Terlim said.

  Seeing the dagger, Marcus pushed harder and tried to pull his head away, but the two Goliath guards pushed him knees first to the ground and held his head up, facing The Two Aasimar. Raltein looked around nervously, but he didn’t even have the courage to stop his friend. "Which eye will it be? Will it be the human eye?" Terlim brought the dagger next to his right human eye," or would it be the Aasimar eye?" he moved it to the left said of Marcus's face.

  “I will let you choose,” he said, and he felt Reltain’s uncertainty. “What is it, Reltain.”

  “Are you sure we won’t get in trouble for doing this?” Raltein asked, his eyes darting from one corner of the alley to the opposite end. “Of course, I am sure. he is a half-breed, a street rat. The Count of Dosa wouldn’t care about the likes of him,” Terlim said. "now choose which eye will teach this abomination a lesson.”

  “Uhm... Uhm.”

  “Come on, Raltein, make up your mind before the counts guards discover us.” Raltein looked down at Marcus, and Marcus stared right back, not in fear but hatred.

  Raltein looked up at Terlim and then back at the beggar. Was this what he heard of having the power to control another man’s life? He did not have to fear it. He had to make the hard decision, and like his father had told him, he would when the time came. He looked down at Marcus, and all he saw was dirty, filthy, and impure, and Terlim was right. The count would not care if another street rat died on the street.

  Marcus cursed, stared at the dagger an inch away from his face, his breathing coming heavy and burning his ugs after the run and being beaten by the giant Goliath guards and felt his body freeze. He met the pudgy Aasimar’s eyes and watched slowly as the boy gained his confidence and came to a decision. He would have screamed, but the fight in him had been beaten out, and his body ached; seeing no way out, he decided to beg as he had the past few weeks. “Please don’t do this, you won’t see me again.” Marcus begged.

  “Look Raltein, he begs even now,” Terlim mocked.

  “I can give you everything I have.” Marcus continued without a thought of his words, picking at anything that would save him.

  “You have nothing,” Terlim said and watched as the comment took effect. Marcus was a beggar, he truly had nothing to offer. Was this what the world decided he was to become?

  “Well, Raltein, which eye are we taking? The boy asked, the knife less than an inch from Marcus’s left eye.

  Before the pudgy young man could choose which of Marcus' eyes was to be gouged out, a stone flew through the air and hit Terlim in the head. Terlim unconsciously cut down at the kneeling Marcus. Marcus barely had time to react. He saw the blade flash, and he closed his eyes—Pain. Searing, sharp, and ice-cold.

  He gasped as pain exploded across his left eye.

  Then, something else stirred.

  Darkness, writhing and alive, erupted from within him.

  The powerful force blasted outward, sending the Goliath guards and the

  Aasimar boys flying against the alley walls.

  And in the shouts and grunts of confusion, he felt as small, weak hands grabbed him beneath his shoulders, hauling him up and currying him away.

  –