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They called me FIVE

**READ ME** THIS BOOK WILL BE UNDER REVISION. ******* My name? Lance Augustus Age? 15 Nickname? Five. Why they call me that? Because the mark tells us so. _________________________________ "Don't be stupid, steer out of trouble, and whatever happens, stay alive."  I really don't know why Dad always repeat those words to me everyday. I take heed of his words. Play by his rules, never dared to go against him except if it's extremely necessary. He's all that I need to get by. Our life was ordinary. Everything was perfectly fine, perfectly normal, just an everyday routine we get used to live. But then this guy calling himself 'The Seeker' came... And he start making a mess out of my life.  He said I have powers. - Who believe that crap? He said I have extraordinary abilities. - Cool! I want to be Superman. He said I was chosen. - Who? The god of newbie bullies? The mark of five imprinted deep into my skin proves that I am one of the TWELVE. - You sure it's not a tattoo? I firmly believe it's a tattoo. I never believe him. I drove him out. I did not listen. I wish I did. Maybe he could have help me. Maybe he could have save me from the trouble of falling right into their trap. I know nothing. Because of my stubbornness I lost everything. So now I'm all alone. But she stretch her hand to me. She gave me hope. She invited me to come. And I did. So our search began. For the remaining TEN. ___________________________________

phoenixhyperion · Urban
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243 Chs

They're having fun treating us like fools.

MAGNUS

That's right. I'm a half breed. I'm supposed to don't exist. Relationships between Faeries and Mortals aren't allowed. Even the ancient laws forbid it. An existent that wasn't supposed to walk on soft ground, breathing the fresh air, residing in the protection of the Deities. That's me.

And yet here I am. Alive and well. I'm by my own for years. When I went through the hundred tests for Rankers, I passed top notch. Though I admit I failed at the last stage, the Choosing Phase. The 99th blindfold stage where we raced who gets the top of Nilama Mountain first - Nilama Mountain was this towering rocky hills just a hundred miles from the border. Full of man eating plants and five feet tall giant insects. You can't believe how a little insect like ant tower over you, like you're the ant yourself in its presence.

And there's the deadly rose of the night. Pluck one and you'll die from its poison thorns. Then it slowly feeds on your dead body, leaving your eyeball as a trophy in its bloom. I did my best to keep my senses sharp back then. Compared to others, my hearing, my sight and my smell are far superior. I can see a caterpillar eating away the leaves of a small plant fifty meters away. I can hear the bustling market of Meilnar despite our base is at the heart of Capital. And that was a good hundred of kilometers away.

You could say my natural gifts was a cheat on that second to the last stage. I was the first to arrive at the peak with few scratches from leaping cliffs and plunging water springs. But I can't help it. I was born with it. Not like I can turn off my heightened hearing whenever I heard the room next door bringing girls at night, having walls as their exclusive make out bed.

"Looks like you have a hybrid in your hands Rankers." The Faery woman drawled. She looked at me, eyes mixed with malice and mocked delight. She caressed her neck. The part where I pierced my blade through.

"That would explain why he can deflect and slice mana in midair. No weapons in the magical realm could do that. Except if the wielder himself has Faery mana. Right, Your Highness?" She regards the man riding the horse mist with crinkled - possibly flirtatious, definitely creepy under the moonlight smile.

My skin crawled seeing her face. I much prefer her snarling and eyes wild. The man pulled the horse's mane and descent towards the ground, right beside the Faery woman. With a snap of his finger, the horse slowly evaporates in the wind.

I look closer at his armor, the blue and black grooves in the torso, how his chainmail has the symbol of the Faery emblem, made me realize this Faery is actually a member of the Faery Royalty, one of the strongest race, the Dark Elves. When he removed his conical helmet and stared at us with full blown black eyes, my suspicion is confirmed.

"Ranker, step back." One of the Rank Elders drags me aside from the center with his blessing. I can feel the cool wind wrapping itself in my arms, putting me back to my comrades.

At my side, someone supported me up. When I look over my shoulder it's Roland and Thomas. The others are circling around us like cocoons.

"You alright?" Roland asked. I nod. "What's gonna happened now?" Thomas asked to my left. I gently removed their hands from my elbows and forced, myself to stand on my own knees.

"Thanks. It's alright if you – you know, distance yourself and stay away from a monster like me. Promise I won't hold it against you." I said. All nineteen of them, face tattered with blood and green soot. Uniforms unrecognizable beneath the cuts and blood slicing into their skin, look at me with the same expression. There's never an estrangement or aversion in their eyes. Only respect. And trust.

"You're a monster alright," Dante grunted. I turn to face him. "So you admit I am?" I asked, stunned. It's Liam who answered.

"Of course. I mean look at you, whenever we play poker and craps you beat us until we're broke. No one can defeat you in gambling, nor beat you at training. Not even Cage and Page. Mage is always having a hard time sparring swords with you. You have the best shot at being the next Rank Leader. Except that you're sometimes too bullheaded to follow rules."

"And Rank Ruler hates you." Thomas added. There's nothing funny at what they said but a big heavy weight was lifted off my shoulders. I'm okay if the Rank Elders, the Rank Ruler and the whole race of Gifted People hate me. As long as I have one or two of my friends on my side. Never thought I have nineteen. My heart is playing spring on me. There's a levitating feeling of joy blossoming in my chest.

"You aside, what's gonna happen now?" Roland asked, nudging his chin at the Rank Elders facing off the Dark Elf. They're not fighting, nor talking. Just sizing each other up.

"If my guess is correct, the Dark Elf is taking our fallen Rankers as hostages. To obtain the thing he wants, it's necessary to not kill the nineteen of us."

"He wants? You mean…"

"The Seeker, yes. That green Faery woman talked about it when we fight. Probably when the Seeker travels outside of our borders, they'll come after him. Control him, so when he finds the Eklektos, they'll force him to surrender the Chosen Ones, and then they'll bathe in the blood and flesh of these powerful individuals." I said grimly.

I retracted my sword to my back. My comrades exchange glances at each other, then brows raised and pulled together in the direction of Rank Elders. As if silently praying none of this is real.

"But can't we just stormed in the vicinity of those Beasts and retrieved back our comrades -?" Someone behind me asked.

"Wait, I actually succeeded in cutting the Red Beasts hand and –" the smallest guy in our Rank, the one with a mouse like face squeaked while undoing the knot on his waist band. He took his stash pouch and showed us a pile of sand inside.

"I carved the heart out of the Ranker he dangled in its hand - just like you said Magnus. I placed it here for safekeeping as I lunge for the next and – huh? Where did it go?" he started to panic. He emptied his pouch and buried his arm up to the shoulder to search.

I clamp my hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry. If only I notice earlier, we wouldn't have to be in this mess. What we see as bodies, is actually illusions to get us off the track. We're just pawns in their game. They want the Rank Elders to come. So they made their presence clear to us." My fingers found itself in a fist. "That's how bad they want to kill this Seeker."

Sometimes you just want to throw fertilizer at people so they will grow up.

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