Marked

Chapter 6

He scoffed, a bitter plume of rage rising from that anguished sound. “That, I would like to know too.”

“You are human?” Sara questioned, slowly recovering from the shock.

Michael only shook his head. Unable to form words, his jaw clenched rigidly, he averted his harsh glare to spare Sara from the raw emotions concealed in them.

“Then…” she stumbled over her words. “You are Marked?” With furtive eyes, she searched for the three slashes on his arms that all Legions bore.

There were none.

But Michael nodded; a whirlpool of conflicting emotions coalescing in his blue orbs—there was hesitation, there was relief, but most of all, there was pain and hatred.

All Sara felt, however, was utter confusion.

He was Marked.

Yet of the two existing races, the Legions and the Plein—he had none of their Marks.

“But where..? Why..?” Unsure, she trailed off, unspoken questions dangling at the edge of her mind.

Lifting his head, he met her questioning gaze, a thousand silent messages hanging in the air between them.

And very, very slowly, he raised a trembling hand up to the collared hem of his shirt, fisting it tightly. The carefully-ironed, pristine white material crumpled, harsh lines leaving unsightly gashes on the fabric. He pulled the rounded collar down with leaden fingers, and as the seams stretched to its limit, and Sara tore her eyes from his to look downwards; she saw that emerging at the edges of it were the slightest, most delicate, snaking wisps of black inked onto his skin.

They were beautiful, and for a moment she was awestruck.

Marks… Were those Marks?

Impossible. How could it be? She wasn’t quite sure what to feel.

She opened and closed her mouth repeatedly, but no words came out.

He, on the other hand, seemed to have found his voice. “Lemuel… he created me,” he said, his voice sounding strangled.

“What? How—how is that possible? Lemuel is a Legion,” she murmured. Sara let out a barely perceptible gasp. She’d never seen Lemuel before; apparently, word going around was that he would only show himself when it was time to deliver the final blow. In other words, to kill last remaining members of the Plein. “Or is he?”

“I should think so,” came Michael’s reply, sounding a tad unsure himself.

“He has to be. Why would the Legions allow themselves to be led by an outsider?” she queried. “But a Legion can’t create another being. No one can. He has to be lying, Michael. And what do you mean, he created you?”

Michael growled in frustration, shaking his head in furiously in annoyance. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I have parents. I don’t know what he did, but he said he created me. I don’t even know what he meant.”

“You looked for him? Yesterday? Does the Countess know that?”

“No.” His voice was hard and accusing. “And you’re not going to tell her.”

“I won’t,” Sara protested, a little offended. “Do the others know about the Marks, then?”

“They do. But I told them not to bother finding any information about them.”

“Why?”

“What does it matter? Even before Lemuel told me what he did, everyone would be better off not knowing. Having Marks on your chest… there’s no such thing. I’m probably some freak of nature.”

“You mean… he told you that he created you? That he made you? From nothing?”

He looked down at his chest, at the traces of his Marks. His hands clenched tighter around the cotton material. “That’s what he said,” he replied, his eyes carrying a haunted light in them. “I…” he broke off, half shrugging his shoulders, half shaking his head.

“Michael…” she began gently.

“Don’t,” he interrupted. “There’s no need to tell me anything. I don’t even know what I am… I’m some kind of a monster.”

“Don’t think that,” she interjected, frowning.

It was then that Sara knew what that emotion was—the one she couldn’t quite put her finger on. It was loathing.

He hated the fact that he wasn’t normal, she deduced. He hated the fact that Lemuel had created him, whatever that meant.

Most of all, he probably hated himself for it.

She sighed. How could she comfort him, when the problem wasn’t one that could be solved?

“You should tell the others,” she proposed. “They might know what to do.”

“I will. But later,” he said quietly, looking at the splintering table. “I just want to be alone now.”

Was that a subtle message to her? Sara took it as one.

“I’ll leave,” she whispered, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder blade. His back muscles rippled and tensed, and seeing an imperceptible shift in his expression, she removed her hand.

Walking towards his door, deep in thought, an idea made her pause and turn around.

She may not be able to solve his problem, but she would help him find out what he was.

If he was Marked, then he had to be one of them. Perhaps not Plein, and not a Legion; but something else, maybe? Would that be possible?

More importantly, he had to have parents. No one appeared out of nothing… something had to have brought his soul into the world.

“Michael.” This time, there was no hesitation in her tone, only solid determination.

He looked up from his place at the work table, a flicker of hope in the depths of his eyes.

“I don’t care what it takes, or how long it takes,” she declared. “I will find out who you are. Everyone has the right to know that much about themselves.”

He stayed motionless, his features hard and unaccepting, and resignedly, she turned to leave.

Sara didn’t know if she’d heard correctly, or perhaps it was merely the wind; but as she stepped out of his room, she could’ve sworn she heard a quiet, barely decipherable “thank-you”.

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A/N: That's it, I don't even have any more pre-written chapters to upload. ): Marked is terribly difficult to write right now because of the complicated plot.. And I think I'm not experienced enough to tackle such plots. I sometimes feel like putting it on hold, but then I think of all the people I'll be letting down, and I just go, forget it.. I'll continue.

I'll still upload this, though it will probably be slower because it takes a dreadful lot of time to write.

If you're still reading, much thanks and love for all your support <3 Since I wrote a bit of chapter 7 today, here's a little snippet for you guys!

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“Stop,” Michael interjected, a pained look on his face.

“No. You let me finish first.” Maxon was firm this time. “I was going to say- you should have let me come along. If you were going to look for death there, I would have gone with you.”

Michael reeled back as if he’d been shot. “How could I?”

“You’re the brother I never had. And I would die for you. To safeguard your life.”

“You can’t…” his voice sounded choked. “I wouldn’t let you.”

A burning tide of rage rose within Maxon. “Am I or am I not your brother?” he demanded, taking a step forward.