"And stay away!"

Credo heard stones and arrows whiz past him, his feet struggling to not trip on the ground dense with roots. He pulled his hoodless cape coat over his head, sheltering it from the projectiles that continued to pelt him, even as he ran.

The distant shouts finally stopped and he continued to sprint, stopping only when a muddy creek blocked his path. His sides ached and he breathed heavily, glancing behind him, making sure they hadn't followed.

He found a dry spot at the base of a twisted tree and sat among the roots, catching his breath. He held up the single gold necklace that he had managed to steal from the traveling merchants, watching the dappled sunlight gleam off of the polished metal. He put it back in his pocket and closed his eyes, his heart finally starting to slow.

The bubbling creek nearby calmed him just a bit, a soft breeze carrying the sweet scent of sugar reeds past him. He pulled himself up and stretched. The sugar reeds piled around the creek, sweet yellow flowers in full bloom. A large flat rock placed on a dead tree stump served as a table as he pulled a knife and a pan from his knapsack.

He removed his coat as he shimmied down the riverbank, loose rocks giving way under his boots. An outstretched hand and a couple swings of the knife made quick work of the sugar reeds, which he brought back to the stone table. He then fashioned a bit of string and a metal hook into a fishing line, digging through the riverbank soil and placing a small worm on the end.

He cast the line, waiting intently for a fish to appear. A few moments later a small group of orisonfish spotted the bait, fighting over who would get the bait. The biggest fish got to it first, and subsequently was yanked out of the water. He quickly dispatched it with his knife, removed the hook, and brought it to the rock. With the guts removed and a few sugar reeds diced and stuffed inside, he set his sights on the tree stump.

His hands, which were so often used for stealing and thieving, suddenly flowed in the air with unexpected grace. An ember formed the moment he brought his fingers together, which he then placed inside the tree stump. The fire heated the rock, simmering the fish. He looked down at it in anticipation. He hadn't eaten in three days.

While it cooked he filled his canteen with water from the creek, summoning a flame in his palm which purified and boiled the water inside. A burning smell caught his attention and he swatted the fire out, still content with his overcooked dinner.

He tore off bits of meat, savoring his first meal in days. The remaining sugar reeds sat on top of his bag. He was used to finding food where he could find it, and stealing it if he couldn't find it himself.

It was at this moment where he decided to inspect the area around him. Last thing he knew, he was in the Clandestine District. The district was renowned for its unclaimed wilderness, as it was the least developed out of the four. He himself was originally from the Genesis District, the second-most developed.

His upbringing led him to where he was currently. He was forced into the shadows by others at the orphanage, bullied and beaten, never attended to or cared for by those who worked there. They sided with the other children, punishing him for their misgivings, and he decided he'd had enough, eventually sneaking out during the night at the age of eight, never to return. Never to return, due to the fact that out of contempt and bitterness, a small blue flame between his finger and thumb were all it took to turn the immense structure to ashes.

And for that, he was wanted, a decade later and he was still on the run for the crime he had committed at eight. From what he heard, nobody had died in the fire, so he wasn't responsible for any deaths.

Still, it haunted him. The jet black of his silky skin and the smoothness of his round head gave it away— he was a male Chicane. Those of his species were baseborn in Koukouvagian society. In fact, those of his species were few and far between. Nobody would say it, but he knew that his parents had been murdered. His kind were the enemies to the current king's species, the Tytos, fighting for the kingdom that was theirs before King Tyto overthrew them over two decades ago. In that time his two daughters grew into beautiful princesses and he'd rewritten the rules of the land— as well as the way his people thought.

Any person of Chicane blood was immediately at risk. They were seen as an evil, conniving, troublesome species, and even with the multi-species land, their numbers started to fall mysteriously. Of course, nobody noticed. And if they did, it was because they were committing the crimes to rid of the Chicanes. Being seen as especially violent and evil, it isn't hard to understand why. Credo stopped chewing for a moment, wondering if he contributed to the stereotype.

Well, it's not like I had a choice, did I?

He knew he'd be ecstatic the moment he finally crossed paths with a female Chicane. He knew what to look for— it would be like looking in the mirror, save for the pearl-colored skin and bright eyes. He hadn't seen any of his own kind in his eighteen years of living, just read it in books the adults at the orphanage had tried to hide away from him. So for now, it was all just wishful thinking.

The mammoth birch trees stretched on for hundreds of feet above his head, green leaves reaching up towards the darkening sky. They blotted out most of the remaining light, quickly bringing the moonlight into play. The sun was lost somewhere among the towering white trees. He was alone, save for the two moons.

He felt weariness overcome him and he immediately finished eating, packing the sugar reeds in his knapsack and slinging it over his shoulders before throwing his coat back on. He stood up and stretched, glancing around at the forest, the grass glowing with dappled moonlight.

He didn't know where he was going. No map, no compass, no knowledge of directions. Just pure luck.

He snapped and a bright fire emerged in his right hand. It burned furiously and lit up the area around him, just a small example of the powerful fires he was able to summon.

And that was the thing. That was their downfall. As the Tyto species finally became dominant, the rumors and paranoia of Chicane power was spread to the neutral species that also lived within the kingdom. Eventually the prejudice and constant attacks were too much. Every time they tried to fight back, only exacerbated the narrative of "bloodthirsty violent fiend". And that was their downfall.

Credo found it easier to just fit in with the soulless monster that everyone seemed to want him to be.

The grass wilted underneath his boots.