Marked

Chapter 1

Here's Chapter 1, enjoy (: I apologise for its length, but I felt that there was no better way to end this chapter. Dedicated to @jennisonsilverye for her support and the beautiful cover and story ads <3

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As the heavy fog settled around Plein Manor, Maxon bolted the massive brass doors of the Manor behind him, and stepped into the shadows of the night. Shrouded by the darkness, he took a second to stop by a street lamp, tucking his blade securely into the pocket of his dress pants.

The ever-recurring nightmares had only contributed to his insomnia, and Maxon was once again thankful for the night's cover- it was like a dome of solace, where he could clear his mind without worrying about being seen by any human. Not that he appeared much different from them, but his inability to age as quickly would probably be questioned.

He headed to the stone bridge, his calf-leather boots scraping the rough ground. The bridge overlooked rows of houses on the street, and below it was a flowing river. From there, the Manor looked just like any other house- calm, serene, inviting. The moonlight cast a silvery glow around it, outlining its silhouette in a magical gleam, reflected in little ripples on the surface of the water. The Manor, with its tiled exterior of bricks and stone, and pairs of arched windows on of the six storeys, each offering a muted view of the dimly lit interior, was an oddly alluring harmony of grey and gold.

Resting his hands on the railings, he occupied himself by observing the various people still out at this hour—a young couple chatting, bathed in the light of a lone street lamp, and an elderly man enjoying a cigar in his yard.

Then he squinted.

A figure crept out silently from the shadows, its movements fluid and sharp.

Noticing it immediately, Maxon’s hand shifted to the handle of his dagger, drawing it out an inch at a time. He knew at once that it was a teenage girl—her limbs were more slender than that of a male, and she had long hair that reached the middle of her back. He stilled his breathing, observing the girl as she slid towards the entrance of the Manor, bracing her back against the stone walls.

Deciding that the girl was an intruder, he took a step forward, ready to attack.

Then a sudden thought flickered across his mind, halting him in his tracks. There was no way she could by a spy for anyone intending to sneak up on him; the Plein were too well-trained in detecting movements—and the Legions knew that. Besides, surely clockwork devices would be a more inconspicuous spying device than a person.

Yet, because attacks in any territorial house of the Marked were forbidden, it was unlikely that an attack was being planned. And that left only one possibility… she had to be one of them.

The Plein.

He crossed the distance between them in a few strides, just as she reached the door.

Noticing his presence, the girl trained her eyes steadily on him. “Who are you?” she asked. Her voice was sweet, dulcet; with mellow undertones.

He raised an eyebrow, turning the blade over in his hand, such that it glinted in the moonlight. "That's my house," he replied. "I should be asking you the same question."

To his surprise, she smiled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "I come in peace," she said, raising both her hands. Maxon lifted his gaze, studying her hands, which were encased in black leather gloves.

"Off," he commanded, gesturing with his blade.

She carefully slipped the glove off her right hand, turning it over so the familiar black swirls showed on her palm. Seeing them, Maxon’s lips curved into the ghost of a smile.

Since young, her parents had warned her never to remove her gloves in public, because they were different-- because of the Marks on their hands. They'd said that at least getting strange stares was better than being shunned. She'd never realized how much of a monster she was in comparison to her friends, until that one day she gave in to their requests, and showed them her Marks. Life was never the same since then.

They'd had to move to different cities every year for fear of being discovered by the Legions, and even though her parents had taken her away from the Plein as a baby so she wouldn't have to lead a hunted life like the others, life in the outside world was far from normal.

They'd lived in trepidation; they'd lived amidst insecurities-right until the day they were hunted down.

Being able to show her Marks to someone, without the fear of being judged-that feeling of liberation came in washes of relief. At least she wouldn't ever have to cover them up for fear of being called a monster.

"I'm here to train," she said evenly, making sure to keep her voice as cool and collected as possible. "To join the fight against the Legions."

Upon hearing that, Maxon took in a breath of air as he relaxed his shoulders. Here was someone who, with a bit of luck, wouldn't mind fighting the Legions with him. He'd been looking for such a person for as long as he could remember-but first, he would have to see how good she really was.

Perhaps it was a selfish dream, wanting to fight the Legions against the wishes of the Plein. But then again, everyone who had dreams was selfish. And there was nothing wrong with it.

He exhaled, turning swiftly on his heel and lifting the bolt off the brass doors. "Welcome home," he said, watching as the doors swung open with an almighty creak.