This would be the last time. The last time Tobey would wake up from this room. He stood up, his old bed creaking under him. He forced out a yawn, bearing no expressions bar a straight look on his face. He walked over to the mirror and looked at his tall naked reflection. Deep brown coloured eyes looked back at him. He wiped his brown hair and sighed. His body was covered in scars, anyone who didn't know his history would think he was a slave on the run. Well…Almost everyone in the city slums knew. It had been just ten years since the execution.
Whatever they thought, Tobey didn’t give a shit. No more, he thought to himself as he rubbed his fingers against the coarse scars on his dark skin.
If anything, he had a slightly better fashion sense. Not that he cared about clothes either. After a bath, he put on a black shirt, a light grey hood and black pants. He had bands of cloth wrapped around both arms, trying to cover as many scars as he could.
His bag sat in the corner, he already packed everything he would need for school. That’s right, today he would cease from being a random teenage boy from an extinct tribe and become a student at the Imperial Mage Academy.
He grabbed his bag quickly and set off for the stairs. He scurried along and ran out the door. The light of the sun was almost blinding and the city was loud as usual. He walked over to the door right next to his apartment and slid the keys of his room, a note and some silver coins under it.
He didn’t have time to tell the landlady he was going, and the coins were for the rent. He’d been more than four months due and had worked hard to pay. The nice old lady let him stay regardless. Now that he thought about it, he was going to miss her and miss her cooking.
“Such a shame,” Tobey shrugged as he turned away from the door. Facing the streets, he suddenly found himself at the centre of people’s whispers. There it was again. Those poses, those whispers, glaring eyes and pointing fingers. His brows squeezed forming a frown. He hated it.
Unfortunately, there was no way he was going to be able to retaliate without getting himself hanged or beheaded. Part of the reason he had the damn scars. Tobey wasted no time in moving along. Any more and they’d throw stones at him. And he was really in no mood.
Heading to school would have to wait. There was a place he needed to go first. The busy streets of Vergho had several alleys, he used these often to escape sight during the day. At night it was the rooftops, walking through the alleys would be too dangerous, even for him.
Howbeit, he’d grown slightly confident in his abilities, there was also the fact that people weren’t allowed to use magic except they were registered mages or students. There were illegal ways to use magic of course, growing up in these streets would teach you a thing or two.
Minutes after hiding out in the shadows of different buildings, Tobey burst out into a clearing that had a single worn down building at a distance. His walk turned into a light sprint as he headed for the door. A large bell at the top of the building rang as he approached. 9 am. He was still early.
He pushed the wooden doors open and stepped into a dusty old hall.
“Mama Carven! It’s me!” Tobey called out as he stared at the place. He hadn’t stepped in here in years. This battered down looking hall once upon a time used to house meetings for their Tribe’s elders. He had several opportunities to come to see due to his dad being one of them.
Now, the place was barely a shadow of what it was once. The light from the morning sun forced its way in through every opening it could find. From the ceiling to the cracked walls. Moss and plants were growing on walls, broken windows, Rusted metal, even the long red banner which had hung from the ceiling now sat in a pile with other ‘used to be’ things.
The only ones who lived here were the wives, daughters and sisters of the men who had been killed. The ones who stayed behind anyway. Over the decade, several of them had fled the country and sought refuge elsewhere. The punishment for the women remained still. None were to mate and give birth with the women of the tribe in any country. A means to ensure they died out.
A lady in a long grey gown walked out one of the doors at the end of the hall. This put a slight smile on Tobey’s face.
“Young Tobey,” she said as she drew closer.
Tobey rushed and hugged her. Mama Carven smiled, pulling the boy close to her chest. She caught sight of the bag hanging behind him.
“What’s this now?” she asked as she tugged at it. Tobey withdrew himself and his bag, like a child trying to keep his candy.
“It’s my stuff,” he replied face red.
“Ahh, I see.”
Mama Carven led him to sit on one of the old benches. Tobey sat with little to no enthusiasm.
“Where is everyone?” Tobey asked.
Mama Carven paused, staring into his eyes before replying, “They’re out working.”
“…Working, huh?”
Tobey watched her fold her arms. He never told her, but he had seen her scars before too. And he knew the women got their scars different from the way he did. The mere thought of it made him squeeze his fists in anger.
Of course, Mama Carven noticed this. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Tobey replied bluntly.
She smiled. “You know, we were once a powerful warrior tribe.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “As hot as the flame…”
“... and as strong as the bone.” Tobey helped her finish earning himself a smile from Mama Carven and a pat on the shoulder.
“That’s all you need,” she said. She looked at Tobey who had his eyes down at his clenched fists.
“I hate them, mama Carven. I fucking hate them all,” Tobey croaked.
“Then perhaps you should reconsider then. Joining the IMA.”
“You kidding? I’m getting in, no matter what.”
“You would find work in other countries. They aren’t as hostile as our people.”
“They aren’t my people,” Tobey said as he turned to her. Mama Carven smiled at the gleam in his eyes. “You, you are my people.”
Mama Carven chuckled and stood up, taking a few paces forward. “Young Tobey. If you've decided to step into that world…You’re going to change and there’s no going back,” she walked, heading to a pillar at the wall.
“The world is cruel. But you can’t harbour that anger within you. Let it go.”
She placed her hand on the pillar and light shone around her hand. The room suddenly felt calm. Tobey could see red light rays around her palm on the wall. The subtle scent in the air. He recognized it. It was mana.
Mama Carven turned and in her hand rested a small necklace. A silver insignia pendant hanging off the thick black thread. The insignia was the tribe’s, Tobey knew it anywhere. A long blade held by an irregular bone-shaped hand. She walked over and wore it on his neck.
“You’re the last son of Vassar. Your journey has only begun.”
SLAM!
A large gust of wind blew the wooden doors open, breaking it down. Tobey and Mama Carven were taken back by the figure who stood backlit at the entrance.
“Who’s there?” Mama Carven asked. Tobey gazed at the door which had broken to pieces on the floor. His eyes turned towards the bastard who had dared to do this.
A man walked forward, his boots thumping with each step. Mama Carven gasped. From his garb and the sword at his belt, it was clear he was an Imperial guard.
Immediately, she fell on one knee, clasped her hands together and bowed her head. Tobey, gave him no such respect, standing there with his arms crossed.
The man walked forward till he stood in front of them. He looked at the lady who knelt before him and turned into the eyes of the boy who glared at him.
“Such rage…You must be Tobey.”
His voice was deep, truly embodying a man of his size and form.
“Who’s asking?”
The man scoffed, “An Imperial guard.” He wondered if the boy truly cared nothing of his appearance. “I'm here to pick you up.”
Mama Carven raised her head at the man’s statement.
“What?” Tobey asked in surprise.
“You’re going to the IMA, aren’t you? I’m a friend of Lex’s, he sent me. Now come on, there’s little time to waste,” he turned and started walking away. Tobey could hear horses neighing outside. He stared at the man as he walked away from them.
“Oh…Sorry about the door. Force of habit,” he waved at them as his footsteps receded.
Tobey smiled at Mama Carven.
“You should go too, Young Tobey,” Mama Carven said. Tobey nodded in response. He hurriedly began walking after him.
Mama Carven watched him leave, suddenly getting a reminder of the last day she saw her husband and her son. For a moment, her eyes widened.
“Tobey!” she called.
Tobey stopped in his tracks and turned to her.
“…May the spirits be with you,” tears gathered around her eyes.
Tobey smiled, nodding at her. He turned to the door.
“See you soon Mama Carven,” he said, but in his head, he thought something else.
Fuck the spirits.
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