1 Stigma

"As you should all know, we live in the town of Mirefield, which resides near the outskirts of our kingdom of Tredor. In the center of the kingdom lies Ancessea, our magnificent capital. It would take roughly two weeks by carriage to reach Ancessea from here, as you have to traverse Mire forest, then Vidfesus, and finally Qual's swamp. Getting to Ancessea by foot, even escorted by mercenaries is just frankly suicidal. Luckily for you Thesus Vidfam, our glorious leader is charitable enough to fund an expedition escorted by our finest knights for all who wish to cast their mark on the world at our kingdom's famous Tredor Academy, which to remind you, is upcoming this week" I barely hear the teachers muffled words from the roof of the classroom as I furiously take notes on my dirty notebook, silently cursing about that I can't afford another one.

With the lesson over, I walk to the side of the roof and look down, noticing a young noble walking down the street showing off his fireball spell to his friends, hearing they're "ooh!" and "ahhh!" from up here.

Magic

The god blessed power that everyone loves, well almost everyone. The mere thought of the word causes my upper lip to curl. Everyone is born with magical abilities at birth, between the four elements of earth, air, water, and fire. There are even rumors of some who even unfathomable powers gifted by whatever deity that choose them. But unfortunately for a few, the elemental abilities in their bloodstream are defective, rendering them powerless. If you're unlucky enough to fail the gamble of what we call birth like me, you're thrown to the bottom of the castle system even lesser than slaves. You have no right to any type of education no matter how basic, and the chance of finding a job is abysmal. This leads you to no choice but a life of crime, slavery, and neverending poverty.

You're forced to live with a stigma you can never cleanse yourself of, and for most the best thing you can hope for is a better shot next life. I close my shabby notebook and toss it into my flabby excuse of a backpack as I carefully scale down the rooftop. The sounds of laughter, haggling, and the smells of the food carts caress my senses of smell and sound. I silently land on the ally floor as I make my way towards my job, mingling myself with the ever crowding street.

Any pretense of joyfulness and selflessness escapes the street as I walk deeper and deeper into the slums of Mirefiled, the clinks, and clanks of the dagger on my hip calming me ever so slightly. After roughly 10 minutes of walking, I finally arrive in front of a surprisingly well kept-together tavern, the name "Masked Pig" crudely carved into a slab of wood. After a deep breath, I push through the swinging wooden doors to be greeted with the ever so familiar smell of hot food, shitty alcohol, and the stench of drunk men.

"Judas! There you are! Get your ass over here and start washing the dishes" A gruff, yet kind voice is directed at me. I nodded and entered the kitchen, a pile of dishes already there to meet me. I stow my backpack away and get to cleaning, the sound of drunken laughter, waitress, and orders surround me as I relax ever so slightly. The pile of dishes comes and goes as I fall into a rhythm, trying my best to block all irreverent thoughts, and it never works.

"You can't live like this forever, sooner or later there going to find out, and you know what's going to happen, just like what happened last time."

"You can't keep this facade up forever Ceaser, it's only a matter of time before mental exhaustion takes over, after all, it's so exhausting to pretend like this right?"

"Joyful, happy, smiling, kind. Those are emotions that never resonated with you, nor it never will."

The voices in my head whisper and snarl, blocking out outside noise while reminding me of my true nature, who I really am.

"Judas"

I wonder how long it's going to take this time? Hopefully, I can keep it together for this week, the expedition is only so far away.

"JUDAS"

A female voice is all I hear as I flip the dirty knife I was washing into a reverse grip while simultaneously turning around, shoving the grimy blade only inches away from her throat.

"No threat" The reasonable part of my mind informs me, the red tinging my vision and the adrenaline coursing in my veins dissipating in an instant. My purple eyes bore into the girl who called me, fears still freezing her into place. I sigh as I slowly lower the knife in my hand, tossing it into the washbin as I wait for the shock to reside. "Yes, Charlotte?" I ask snapping her out of her scared *fresor. "Oh yes, Fricn wants you, something about the upcoming expedition if I'm not mistaken."

Adrenaline threatens to break the dam of sensibility as I hide my confusion, anger, and panic behind my carefully tailored poker face.

I never told anyone about my intent to join this year's expedition.

"Really? I'll go see him now then, thanks for letting me know'' I reply, washing my hands once more and drying them before heading upstairs to Fricn's office. The possibilities, predictions, and worst-case scenarios of this meeting fly by me, with dozens of them being trashed, kept or outright ignored every second of the brief stroll upstairs.

Before I knew it I was outside his office door, and with a deep inhale and exhale I open the door, letting the mask I carefully wear slowly slide off my face.

The stench of tobacco hits me in the face as I close the door behind me while Fricn watches the night sky from the window, pausing ever so slightly to take a puff from his pipe.

"Judas"

"Fricn"

We greet each other emotionlessly as I walk towards him, leaning against a wall as Fricn smokes his pipe in a chair behind his desk. He turns around to face me,

"Your joining this year's expedition to Ancessa aren't you?"

*fresor-one's state of being, Yes I made this word up.