Marduk’s Mark [2]
Neeves
Gerhalt couldn’t hide the smile on his face. He preferred being somewhat reserved and didn’t care for showing off his emotions, but there was something about the waves that washed his worries away. He was enjoying the view, remaining motionless as he sat on the edge of the pier, his legs wet from the salty sea spray that hit them as the waves crashed against the rocks and the wooden structure of the pier itself. Every once in a while he’d gaze towards the horizon, looking in the general direction of an island off in the distance. The yellow sclera in his eyes was particularly intense, giving off the impression that they were made out of gold as the sun’s rays, reflected on the white sands of the beach and the transparent waters, hit his face. His light gray hair, almost silver in appearance, danced with the breeze. Both features were not unusual among his kind, those who look very human save for the almost metallic features of their eyes and hair. The Deelamn. However, to Gerhalt’s credit, his were particularly striking.
“Always so predictable my child.”
He turned his head back as he heard his mother’s familiar, melodic voice.
“You know me,” he replied promptly. “One of these days, I’m sure, I’ll visit all of the Palominos and continue onward, to the lands of the Wayward,” he said as the woman, Xandra, smiled warmly at her son.
“Perhaps,” she told him. “Maybe when you’re capable enough to fully take care of your sister.”
Gerhalt got up from the pier and turned towards his mother, facing her.
“Take care of her, huh? She’s not a kid.” He clenched his left fist for a moment as he looked at his mother intensely. “I’m not sure this is fair for her though,” he said. Xandra frowned at him for a moment and promptly replied.
“We are not dealing with fairness here,” was her cold but calm reply. “But that’s not something you can understand. Not yet, anyway.”
Gerhalt lowered his gaze, an apologetic gesture as any he could muster. “I know,” he said. “I do try my best to understand though.”
His mother nodded at him. “I know. Come now, Karlos and Reysha await.”
With those words, Gerhalt got up from the pier and walked up to his mother. She paused as she noticed that he was still paying attention to the far-off island in the middle of the sea. He noticed her gesture and focused on her. She didn’t speak to him; she simply started walking and he followed her, through the main streets that lead south from the pier into the center of the city. Any human onlookers may consider them more like contemporary friends than mother and son. They were Gerhalt, a young adult with a fibrous, tight musculature from many years of swimming, training, and tending to heavy fishing nets, and Xandra, walking by her son, sporting a statuesque figure and not a single wrinkle in her beautiful face. On closer inspection, the yellow sclera in their eyes betray the reason for such appearances; the Deelamn age slower than humans once they reach adulthood, though their lifespans are no different at all.
The young girl with the grayish-white hair was much smaller than the man that lunged at her, though her exposed arms and calves displayed some impressively cut though small muscles. The man produced a powerful punch, one in which he focused the strength on his hips to aim his fist in her direction, his right fist clenched, breaking through the wind in a tight, straight line. She used her size to her advantage, sidestepping towards his left side, extending a bright red object with her left hand, and slashing across his chest with it. She used the force from that slash to push herself into a cartwheel move, and before the man could recover she was behind him, breathing heavily as she straightened herself.
There was a crowd of about fifteen people looking at the spectacle, gathered in a circle that surrounded a white circle drawn in the ground. The man, stunned, looked down at his chest and noticed a bright red line. He turned around to face his opponent as she waited to make eye contact with him. His eyes, with their yellow sclera, met hers. Her eyes had light blue irises surrounded by white, pearly sclera. He burst out laughing as she held the bright red carbon-tipped pencil that she used to paint his chest.
“It was about time,” he exclaimed as loudly as he could. The crowd cheered, all of them chanting “Reysha, Reysha” in unison.
“I beat you old man,” she said softly yet with a powerful, commanding stare. Then she dropped to her knees and burst out laughing.
Gerhalt and Xandra arrived just as she said those words, though they had a good idea of what happened by the sound of the people as they approached. Gerhalt seemed the most excited, leaving Xandra’s side to step into the white circle, facing both combatants.
“I can’t believe it,” he said. “You’ve never let me beat you!”
The man dusted himself off, removing some of the red charcoal from his chest. “You’ve never really bested me.” Gerhalt frowned.
“Ok then. Tomorrow it is, Karlos. We face each other and the winner gets to face them all at once!” He turned around and pointed towards the crowd as he finished the sentence. They all went wild yelling and cheering.
“Ok boys, that’s enough boasting for now,” Xandra interrupted.
“True,” Karlos replied. He kneeled in front of a wooden box and picked up some pieces of silver and gold. Reysha smiled.
“Not bad for an eintag!” She was quite proud of herself. Two of the crowd walked towards them and deposited some extra pieces of gold which Gerhalt picked up. Reysha faced them and bowed in their direction with an expression of sincere gratitude.
“Not bad for a girl her age,” one of them said. “You could probably train to be a Judicator if you wanted!” Karlos shook his head.
“I don’t think they’d accept her in their ranks,” he said.
“What a shame,” the other man replied.
They turned to leave as well. Reysha looked in their direction for a moment. A Judicator, she thought to herself. She quickly shook her head; she knew there was another plan for her. That left her in a pensive state of mind for a moment. She hadn’t yet turned sixteen and her life had been one long rigorous training session. She also looked towards her family, a collection of Deelamn who all had the characteristically yellow sclera of their race. She didn’t, though she did possess the other characteristics that made them stand out: the lobe-less, slightly pointed ears that were slightly longer than most humans and the light, almost white-colored hair.
