Sarrol walked through the city, his hood casting a dark shadow over his eyes. Hunters, gatherers, and collectors began to stir in their homes, ready to sneak off into the Tärkein without revealing the exit they had managed to somehow hide since the establishment of Efaque.
Then again . . . Efaque was “technically” established yesterday . . .
He was certain Darrel was the Lucid. No doubt about it. I mean, all this crazy stuff has been happening ever since he got here . . . the mountain forming out of nowhere, the lights exploding during my nullification ceremony . . .
A group of attractive girls passed by – all of which appeared to be around Sarrol’s age.
Score.
They seemed to notice Sarrol’s perverted gaze and they stopped in their tracks. The eldest girl – probably nineteen, a year older than Sarrol – stepped forward with her hands on her hips. “Uh, can we help you?” Her short, black wig was decorated with yellow beads, which clanged against one another like wind chimes in the winds that came up from the Nile. “You know, citizens aren’t allowed to leave their homes until sunrise. It’s protocol – ”
“Oh, I know.” Sarrol made a mocking tone with his voice. “Or I’ll be imprisoned.”
The girl nodded. “Yes.”
“It won’t do any good. I already know why gatherers like you are allowed to leave your homes this early.”
The girl knit her brows. “Really?” Her voice had an overwhelming amount of sarcasm.
Sarrol nodded with a grim smile. “Really. I know about the ‘secret entrance’. Or exit – however you want to look at it.”
The girl’s mouth twitched. “I don’t know about any secret door – ”
“Don’t play dumb with me.” Sarrol’s voice hardened. “I bet you have blonde hair under that wig.”
The girl stepped back, obviously offended. “Do you have the insignia?”
Sarrol smiled, knowing that he once had the insignia that allowed individuals to leave the city before sunrise.
Before the nullification ceremony.
It was a burn mark that created an almost-permanent scar on your shoulder – an area that cannot be exposed once you are bestowed with the insignia. But, like any scar, it could be removed. Although it was quite unpleasant, there was no other way to rid of the mark – unless it dealt with cutting off the skin itself.
Sarrol knew that Ellie and that despicable excuse for a Lucid had been watching. Who wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to watch your enemy suffer?
However, he couldn’t blame the Empress for being removed from the patrolling team. Besides, the reason the mark was so hard to get off was because the word “nullification ceremony” was almost unheard of.
Sarrol pulled up the sleeve of his coat to where the insignia had once been. It now resembled a piece of baloney drenched with blood. The reason it wasn’t bandaged was because the citizens wanted Sarrol to “think” about why he was nullified.
At the sound of the girl’s unified gasps, Sarrol gave another one of his grins.
“Your Sarrol?” the older girl asked.
“Don’t recognize me?”
“No . . . I . . . I had to watch my sisters . . .” she glanced back at the two younger teens. “I didn’t know they did that.”
“Well, that’s how the cookie crumbles.” Sarrol let his sleeve fall back down to his wrist and let out a sigh. “Anyways, hope you all have a fun out there.” He nodded to the direction of the entrance to the Tärkein and walked away before they could ask him why he was out at such an unusual hour.
He had no business leaving his house before sunrise anymore.
