Origin 4

Marcel slowly stirred his spoon around the bowl of soup, his heavy eyes refusing to be lifted off the ground. It was the next morning and his twelve-year-old mind turned around to the mysterious figure of Mr. Watson, who had taken Marcel in three years ago. Despite the loud boos and pain that the man faced in his fight for elf rights, he remained untouchable, a human taking a stand against the crowd.

Marcel looked around the dining room, his gaze passing over the triplet sisters and the new boy, who was timid and scrawny. He had not seen their names, as it was common practice among elves not to name their children until they were 8, and Marcel had been staying here ever since he was eight years old too.

The boy was new to the safe house, scrawny enough that a bone could break him, and shy to the point where he could not even speak up about injustice. That was the type of person Marcel did not turn his head towards.

Most of his attention turned to the eldest of the three girls, whose name was due to be given in a few days; her fiery spirit reminded him of his own.

She was a fighter, protecting her siblings at the turns of the harshness of life.

She and Marcel were taught human fighting skills from the past, used to dismember enemies, but as Me. Watson said it was only to be used in self-defense.

Marvel and this girl were close and to her, Marcel was a master, a leader, and a pioneer, and was an amazing person to look up to lead a new elf society. He was a dream revolutionary. Thing was, she was mysterious, she never closed down on her. Back story, never mentioning any essence of her past.

"Marcel do you want to play," the girl asked fondly.

"Cant, Mr. Watson wants me to review since he thinks I'm lacking in my studies," Marcel said, fingering quotes signs to showcase his sarcasm.

The girl giggled as she ran up the swirly set of stairs back toward her siblings.

Mr. Watson was more mysterious than all of them and it was clear he had secrets. Marcel had heard whispers that Mr. Watson had been an assassin in his past, but the man never confirmed or denied these stories. He had also heard that his house was a safe haven for elves and other creatures who were persecuted in public. Despite being a human, Mr. Watson had done more for the elf community than many elves had done for themselves.

Just then, Mr. Watson stood up from his seat, a thick red textbook in his hands, and clapped his hands together twice. The other children rushed to the sink to clean up, talking excitedly about the new toys Mr. Watson had bought them.

"Now we are going to review today about the five races again Marcel," Mr. Watson said, flipping through the pages of the textbook.

Marcel sighed heavily. He thought this was utter bullshit, but he kept his tongue in check.

"Make sure to watch your language," Mr. Watson replied sternly. Marcel mumbled a few elf words he had learned days prior instead.

Mr. Watson began to explain the five races; humans from the Solar System AB-07, now known as the Human system, who had come from a planet called Earth; Darks, who had advanced magical powers known as systemo; elves, who were similar to what humans had imagined; proks, with long stouts and skin as hard as rock; and robots, constructed with systemo and given a freewill. However, as Mr. Watson talked, Marcel couldn't help but zone out, not truly listening.

Marcel was fascinated by his guardian, wondering what kind of secrets he was keeping and why. But he was even more drawn to Mr. Watson's courage; he was a human in a world of elf discrimination, and yet he had the courage to stand up for what was right.

Mr. Watson, slightly dismayed, closed the book. "Fine, we won't learn since you're not passionate to do anything anyway," he said, his chair pushed back followed by his walk away from the dining room.

"I was listening!" Marcel exclaimed, standing up from the couch and wincing as he hit his arm on the back of it.

Mr. Watson stopped and chuckled, patting Marcel's head. "Do not lie, Marcel; that cut is going to open up again," he said with a joke.

Marcel gulped and looked down. Mr. Watson quickly saw the fear that had entered his body and the paleness of his skin.

"Oh, no no no, don't be scared, I was just kidding," he said in a rush, patting Marcel's head. Marcel went back to the couch, relieved.

Mr. Watson grabbed his coat and hat and told Marcel to get some food from the kitchen for the children while he was gone before he grasped the doorknob. Suddenly, the doorbell rang, and Mr. Watson quickly opened the door.

A huge gust of wind blew through the house, catching Marcel off guard, and Mr. Watson covered his eyes. As the wind died down, Mr. Watson removed his arm, revealing the figure that stood in the doorframe.

It was a tall, lanky man of 6'2 with violet skin, purple eyes, and extended ears, adorned with horns and silver piercings. He wore an expensive business suit and had an aura of a man who had killed, a monster. Marcel's stomach twisted as he looked on, and the man smiled down at him.

Marcel was suddenly thrust into a flight or fight mode, where in front of him was imminent danger and fear of death. He wondered about the evil this person may have caused, and the strength of his power.

What made even worse about this situation is it seemed he knew Mr. Watson, and there was no way a peaceful man like Mr. Watson could ever be friends with a man with an aura like that.

The children had come downstairs to hear the ruckus, and Marcel watched as Mr. Watson walked out the door. Marcel took a few steps back, gulping down all the spit in his throat with nothing to say.

"Nice to meet again, Amani," the dark man said, his crooked fangs glinting in the light.

Mr. Watson stayed glaring upwards towards the tall dark, not a trace of fear in his eyes.

"The pleasure is all mine...Dynasty," he replied.