Gifted (Patreon)

Everyone wants to be Gifted, including Melmarc Lockwood.

Sadly, even if he's lucky enough to become a Gifted, it is one thing to be a Gifted, one of the select few to develop powers beyond the human limit, and another to be worthy of it.

his goal to become the strongest Gifted alive is too far in the distance to be seen, but he's determined to see it to the end.

With a strange uncle and a few tweaks here and there, who knows just what could happen.

                                                        CHAPTER ONE: Everything's Going To Be Alright

The trembling was odd.

Melmarc wasn’t new to trembling or fear. There were situations that caused people to tremble. The cold was one of those situations. No, that was different, his mother called that shivering. It was very much like trembling but it wasn’t. When his brother, Ark got mad that one time when he found someone bullying him and had beat them up terribly, he had been shaking at the end of it. That was trembling.

But this was not that. That had been because of rage. What Melmarc was going through was because of fear.

The building shook again, pain flared from an injury in his side and his trembling worsened. He wished the trembling would just stop. It made the pain hurt more.

“It’s alright,” his brother whispered in his ear, voice so quiet it almost went unheard. “It’s alright.”

Ark held him, cuddled up against him, hiding in their closet. For the last few minutes, ever since he had run into the room and found Melmarc on the floor and pulled him into the closet, he had been repeating those words. Melmarc didn’t think his brother noticed he’d been bleeding. From the little he’d seen before the lights in the room went out, Ark hadn’t been paying attention to much of anything.

It’s alright. It’s alright, the words played in Melmarc’s head.

It was like programming, so much so that Melmarc almost believed everything was alright despite the pain in his side and the falling debris, shaken with every boom and quake outside. He would’ve believed it was alright if his brother wasn’t trembling and he couldn’t feel the wet tears sliding down his brother’s cheeks.

Where’s mommy? He asked, only for the words to never leave his mind. He moved his lips at the realization and found them numb. His hands were numb too. He had never felt numb before. The sensation brought about a new kind of fear. But at least the trembling had stopped, and the pain was gone.

Usually, his mom would be seated in front of the television watching one of her favorite late night shows. It was what she did when she wasn’t working, when the government allowed her the time to rest and be with her family. She would spend the entire day with them, playing and singing, and doing crazy things adults would only do with their children. Then, when it was night and time to sleep, she would tuck them in bed, and make them play pretend.

It was the same game every night. She would read them a story or sing them a song, then she would make them play ‘sleep pretend’ to see who could pretend more. Their sister had her own room so she never got to play pretend. She was too old and too mature for it. Her words, not his.

Like every other night that she tucked them in, they’d played pretend until it was no longer a game and they were sound asleep. Then his mother would enjoy her movie until late into the night before going to bed.

The house shook again, quaked enough to shake rubbles from the ceiling and Melmarc shook more.

Ark wrapped his arms tighter around him. Being just a year older, his brother wasn’t much larger than him, so his arms didn’t really wrap around Melmarc. But they were there, gently smoothing down the side of his arms in strokes that were half-soothing and half-panicked. Despite the inconsistency, Melmarc missed the feel now that he was numb. The numbness had taken everything, and now the fear was left with nothing but a place in his mind.

Another boom rang outside, the building shook terribly and more debris fell in the room outside the closet. Ark shook, startled by the explosion.

A large gust of wind swept into the room. It shattered the door Ark had spent a second or two to close and bolt shut when he had run into the room, ripped into the wood and blew it apart.

Melmarc would’ve given a reaction too, if he wasn’t so numb.

He felt Ark look down at him, checking on him. His older brother wiped his tears from his cheek, sniffled quietly, then began slowly rocking Melmarc.

“It’s alright, Mel,” he mumbled. “Everything’s going to be alright.”

It was hard to believe him when his voice was trembling so much that it affected his words. Melmarc wanted to return the words back to his brother, wanted to reassure him that he was right, that everything was going to be alright, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything.

When the wall of his room exploded in a gale of wind and fire, it rocked the entire house and shattered his bed. It was followed by a high pitched scream. Even so young Melmarc could hear the emotions in it. Fear, pain, anger. He’d never heard their mom sound like that before, and it sent a chill through his numb body.

Ark clutched him tighter, rocked him slower.

“Mom’s got this,” he told him, in a small shaky voice. “Mom’s strong, she’ll win.”

Win what? Melmarc thought. He knew the kind of work their parents did. He also knew that they never brought it home. So what was she supposed to win?

Is there a bad guy in the house? How many are there?

Like every other word he’d thought up, these ones never left his lips. They were birthed in his mind, grew in his mind, and died in his mind.

“Mom’s powerful,” Ark repeated, as if to himself. “She’ll win.”

He was sobbing now. Quietly. Whatever was out there, whatever had shaken the house and shattered the windows of Melmarc’s room, was strong enough to make Ark continue to convince himself that their mother was going to win.

Melmarc wasn’t sure exactly how his mother’s fight was going to end but he had a feeling he wouldn’t get to see it. Melmarc was very happy that their sister had chosen tonight to have a sleep over at one of her friend’s house. Even in his current state, he was happy that she would not have to feel the fear he was now too numb to feel.

Ark’s hand touched Melmarc’s side in his rocking and soothing, and pain shot through the numbness to fill his body. Melmarc jerked from the pain.

Ark looked down at him, and in the darkness of the closet—of the entire house, really—Melmarc saw worry fill his brother’s widened eyes. He watched Ark lift his hand and stare at it. Melmarc didn’t have to be able to see to know what his brother was looking at.

“You—you’re bleeding,” his brother panicked. “Mel, you’re bleeding.”

Melmarc wanted to say something, tell his brother that he was fine even if he wasn’t. But no words came. There was only the new pain climbing up his side.

And fear for his mother.

Another explosion startled Ark. For some reason it felt very close. Too close. Melmarc turned his eyes back to the door of the closet, peeked through its many slits. There wasn’t much to be seen in the dark room.

Moonlight streamed in through a hole in the wall, a different one from the wall his bed frame had been pushed up against. It was the wall with the window that had shattered, the window that owned the piece of glass currently in his side.

The moonlight cast the smallest illumination into the room. Inside the room, he saw why the explosion had sounded so close.

Two silhouettes had crashed into his room. He couldn’t make out much of one of them but he knew his mother when he saw her, even clad in the darkness born of a backdrop of light. She was trading blows with someone, using fighting techniques Melmarc had seen Delvers like her use plenty times on different shows. She threw kicks and punches, forced her assailant into the corners.

Melmarc’s numb mouth fell open. He felt the life of words rise from his throat.

“Mo—”

Ark’s hand clamped down on his mouth. It was wet and warm, stained in Melmarc’s blood. It silenced him effectively as their mother took a blow to the jaw.

It rocked her back, and her assailant followed the attack up with another one. Fire enveloped his hand as he struck her jaw with a closed fist. The contact let out a muffled boom, as if two boulders had been thrown against each other.

Melmarc watched the silhouette of their mother stagger back. The assailant darted forward, covered the distance between them and struck again.

Their mother weaved away from the blow, caught the assailants arm, and threw him over her shoulder. He flew into the half-broken wall where Melmarc’s bed had once been, destroying the little that was left of it.

Their mother moved to go after the man but hesitated. She paused, head on a quick swivel. Her attention moved around the room quickly before stopping at the closet.

Melmarc could see her relax visibly when she stared at the closet. Then she darted out of the room and through the wall she had thrown the enemy into. Another clash ensued outside in booms and explosions. A flash of bright light illuminated the other room and was followed by a scream. Someone shot through the wall and back into the room, crashing into another wall but not going through it.

The assailant stepped back into the room in a stagger. Their mother had weakened him.

Please win, Melmarc prayed. Dear God, if mom wins I promise to never sin again. I’ll be nicer to my sister, Ninra. I’ll always obey daddy and mommy. I’ll never make noise…

Tears streaked down his eyes.

Only when Ark’s hand tightened over his mouth did he realize he had been sobbing.

Please, he begged. Please save mommy.

The assailant stood in the room, unmoving. Then his head turned slowly. He took in the entire room. The debris. The broken bed. The shattered walls. The small children’s reading table. The action figure of a man in a cloak sculpted to look as if it was blowing in the wind. It was a sculpted action figure of Dark-mist. He was a famous Delver known for his stealth, and Ark’s favorite.

Finally, the assailant turned to their mother.

“You have kids?” he asked. He sounded surprised, startled. “So that’s why you’ve been keeping me away from this room. I thought there was, like, loot or good gear here. Maybe a healing—”

Their mother shot away from the ground and tackled the man. She ran into him with a purpose and enough force to pull a wall down.

The man took her attack head on. He slid back a few inches before stopping. Then he raised both hands above his head and a ring of light encircled around them before he brought them down on their mother’s back.

It struck her, leaving a shock wave and a boom that brought her down to the ground. He kicked her for good measure and she slid to the side of the room. The man turned and coughed into his hand. He looked at it for a short moment before wiping it on his chest.

“In case you’re worried,” he said, “I’m not here for the kids. I didn’t even know you had kids.”

On the ground, surrounded by dust and debris, Melmarc’s mother spat to the side.

The man scratched his head in mild frustration.

“The quest only said to take you out,” he explained. “I’m supposed to draw your aggro while the others do whatever they’re supposed to do.”

“You won’t win,” their mother spat. “You and your kind can’t win.”

The assailant shook his head. “We aren’t here to win. We’re simply doing this to survive.”

“Survive, my ass.”

Their mother pushed herself up.

“Stay down,” the man said. “We’re trying to clear the quest without having to kill anybody we don’t have to. Mine said I had to defeat you, not kill you.”

Their mother got all the way up to her feet. She placed herself in a fighter’s stance, but she didn’t look steady. Melmarc could see her feet shaking beneath her.

“I don’t have enough mana for this,” the man muttered. He sounded annoyed. “And neither do you.”

He placed his hands together, and a ring of light appeared around him. It was similar to the one that had encircled his hands when he’d struck her down, white and bright with a soft glow. Like a halo. He stood at the center of it and their mother stood where she was, a fighter. She wouldn’t succumb, she wouldn’t lose. Melmarc knew this as surely as he knew he was bleeding.

He only had one prayer now.

Don’t lose, mommy.

The man’s ring of light grew brighter, whiter, until it was almost blinding to look at.

“Stay down,” he warned their mother. “Last chance. You might not have a health bar but I’ve done this enough to know when your HP is low.”

Melmarc’s mother gave him a toothy grin. “Fuck you.”

The man sighed. “So be it.”

The ring exploded in a blinding light that left Melmarc’s world white. It was all he could see. In the back of his mind only one sentence filled his world. The last sound he heard wasn’t the explosion but his brother’s voice.

“It’s going to be alright, Mel. It’s going to be alright.”