*
Light floods the room before Nick in the shape of a growing triangle as the door opens slowly to the dark room. It is a quaint room made of the Central City’s common gray, salt-stained wood. There are few furnishing about the room, all of which are abandoned. Sitting on the floor against the back wall is a boy with his knee propped up with an arm draped over it. He wears dusty brown clothes without shoes and has to shade his eyes as the morning light meets him.
“Ever hear of knocking?” he groans from behind the shadow of his hand.
“Why so dark in here?” Nick ignores him and immediately heads over to the window to push open a pair of shutters. The room illuminates too quickly for the boy’s liking. “There. You see? That’s much better.”
The boy moans and considers laying face first on the cold floor but decides against it. “Come on, Nick. It’s too early for this.”
“The day is nearly half over, my boy. We cannot have you wasting away in solitude. This world is too big, too magnificent, to be contained in this room!”
The boy snorts. “We talking about the same world? ‘Cause it sounds almost as if you like it here. Keep talking like that, and I won’t know what side you’re on.”
Nick chuckles. “You really are grouchy in the morning, do you know that?”
The boy has yet to find the humor in their conversation.
“Truth is,” Nick continues, “I’m in the market to buy a new shika. Now, nothing too fancy. Just something young, reliable. And it has to —”
“You know my rule,” he cuts him off. “You were the one who made me who I am in this world. Take whatever you like. No need to come in here opening shutters and babbling on about what this screwed up world has to offer and all….”
Nick doesn’t answer. He instead turns to the window and stares out into the adjacent field catching sight of a pair of brown shikas grazing in the distance. “There’s more, too….”
“Oh?” His tone has sparked the boy’s curiosity.
“Yes.” Nick drops his gaze. “I have also come to keep my end of our bargain.”
For a split second, every muscle in the boy’s body tenses, and he suddenly jumps to his feet. He crosses over to Nick and slaps a hand on his shoulder. “The New Mark has arrived?”
Nick wears a sheepish expression. “Seems my math was off. Fifty years is hard to keep track of in a world where time deceptively holds still.”
He’s shaking his head. “None of that matters! The Marked One? It’s really him?”
The joy in Nick’s eyes is enough confirmation. “But I have to send her away. And I’m here to ask you to be her guide.”
Confusion strikes the boy’s eyes. “Her?”
Nick smiles. “This one is slightly different from its predecessors.”