Chapter 1.

Whatever he was lying in was swaying from side to side; by the feeling he noticed that it wasn’t waves. It was as if rocking from corner to corner; in 4 places it moved differently and it occurred to him that he was being carried in a box. Fear struck him as if lightning had struck from the sky and pierced him through the wood. This could only mean one thing. The epidemic had gotten him, but he was one of the few that woke up again, whose breath didn’t falter but heart slowed to a halt, before it continued so slow, it was almost gone. He didn’t dare to move, but he felt suffocated and he reached up, sensing that the box must be higher than two feet because he could press his palms against. It wasn’t a wise choice; this meant that with the strength he now had, he could break through.

Steps… by the sound of it they were walking on gravel or maybe just dry earth. He closed his eyes; they were going up the hill by the sound of the scratches, as if they slid back with every step they took. He was heavy; they had carried him for a long while. He raised his index finger and dropped it to the bottom of the box, one click sounded and he sensed the right corner at his head drop. They had heard him, which meant they were listening for any sign of life. He must’ve have been breathing when they were about to burn him. He lived in a small village, where the wrous came to kill and where the whole village lived up in the trees, avoiding the sharp teeth and wolf-like creatures. He turned his head and breathed in. The air was full of the smell of leaves, dust and pine trees. He was being taken to the land of the Damned.

 

There were few rules to life now. After destroying humanity and destroying the rules of how to treat a human being, new rules had to be made.
 

1. Never kill family or clan members.

This was why he was being taken there. It wasn’t allowed to slice his throat even if it meant that he would wake up and tear theirs apart.
 

2. Problems between two clans will be brought to the Commander in the Fallen City.
    

If it happened that one clan member had killed someone from another clan, it was the Commander’s choice to give the murderer a sentence. But there were only 7 clans under this commander. Another commander in the south had at the sound of it 14 clans. The clans in the north was still divided and still not united under one Commander.

When the epidemic spread and the Dead rose, until they were proven not to die but to survive with great differences, there had to be made a decision that would avoid breaking rule one. In a land that was too dangerous to live in, on the north side of a lake that separated the north and south, the damned would live. If they passed their borders, they would be greeted as strangers, outlanders that were allowed to be killed. Which he was going to be when he crossed that border. He could smell the water and he knew he was close.

He couldn’t have it, but how many were around him? Few enough so that he could run off without being taken down. Would they do it? They would break the first law and be sentenced to death. He didn’t wish that for any of them, he knew the men and one woman carrying him to the Land of the Damned were family and friends. Someone was sniffling as if they had been crying.

Then the one who sniffled spoke. “What will become of him?” That was the voice of his neighbor who had always taken great care of him. Having lost his parents to the first epidemic as very young he was a lone wolf. He was called Ten, because he had been born after ten beautiful days in a time of a late Cold. Right before the season of Bloom arrived he was born on a clear day, and many saw his birth as a gift to the 7^th clan. His smile was as clear of anger and evil as the day he was born and full of light.

  “He will lose his right to uphold the laws and he will no longer be a part of the 7^th clan which makes him an Outlander. A damned one that is.” That voice belonged to his uncle.

  “Oh Mark…” Ten sighed and then he felt his heart skip a beat. That was his name, his birth given name. Because when he was born the fields was a bright yellow and the sun hot. His birth marked the day of when the Dry season would end. Mark.

He tapped his fingers against the bottom of the box, nails hitting the wood and now everyone stopped. The 4 people carrying him had all heard it.

  “Why are you stopping?” Ten had asked and his voice came closer. Mark held his breath.

  “Ten move away from the box.” His uncle’s voice sounded and Mark heard him slightly ready his sword to be pulled out of its sheath.

Mark didn’t understand why he wasn’t full of rage and desire like all Damned were. Instead he was afraid when he heard the blade sing. He didn’t know if he should barge through or if he should let them take him to that place. He was afraid of talking, because the Damned only hissed or screamed. He exhaled deeply and ran his fingers over the box once again each finger drumming over the wood.

  “He’s awake.” His uncle said and walked forward, at the sound of scurrying feet he knew he had just pushed Ten aside. “We need to hurry, we can’t have him escape now, we cannot kill him.”

Mark tried to hold it in but he still spoke. “Then why have you unsheathed your sword, uncle?”

The men who had taken a step forward froze.

  “Mark?” Ten called in a trembling voice.

Mark didn’t speak, he glared at the wood above him. Now he knew why they felt angry. The frustration of being feared because you didn’t die… It tore at his heart. He was alive and he felt well, he could be a soldier, his muscles ached to move, he could be strong like his father.

Ten stepped closer. “Mark, are you… there?”

  “Right here.” Mark said, but he sounded pissed off. No one dared to neither set down the box nor open it.

  “How do you feel?” Ten continued and Mark heard a slight thump as if his uncle had put his hand on Ten’s chest, telling him to stop.

Mark didn’t know what to say, he felt overwhelmed with sorrow. Instead he cried and ignored the startled voices as he sobbed, gripping the fabric covering his heart. He wasn’t ready to meet the Damned. He wasn’t ready to leave his life behind. Someone put a hand on his box. Mark turned towards it and he heard struggling groans form the men carrying him in the right side.

  “I’m here.” Ten said in a soft voice and Mark cried even louder.

Then his emotions were cut short when a scream further ahead sounded. “There are people on the road further ahead, my Lord.”

Mark’s uncle was the Lord of their clan, and so it was his job to lead the Damned away from the clan. Still there was something in the way the woman ahead had spoken.

  “They look Damned.” Mark rolled onto his back. He heard hissing and the wind carried a smell of cobber with it. The Damned smelled of blood as if their skin was now too thin to hold the smell in, or maybe they drank it. People weren’t too sure. Mark heard their steps speed up as if they were charging. He waited for them to come closer before he kicked up and pushed with all his strength barging through the box to find the lighting outside dimmed, the sun was setting. Why were they taking him there when night fell? Everyone knew this was when the Damned was active. He rose from the box and then sprang forward between the men carrying him and stood in front of the group, facing the Damned heading their way.

They were three. The smallest of them had dark hair and a beautifully proportioned face. He had a glare on his face that Mark didn’t like at all. Behind him a tall blond walked with long steps and to the smaller’s right a female Damned with bushy hair strolled towards them.

  “Go!” Mark told the other’s over his shoulder.

  “I’m not leaving you!” Ten stated and Mark turned to look at Ten. Everyone gasped. One thing you could recognize in a Damned’s face was that their eyes glowed in the dark. Mark guessed his was glowing brightly now that the stars peeked down upon them through the marine blue veil.

  “Your eyes are blue!” Ten gasped and Mark frowned. They were usually different shades of yellow or red. Mark glanced at his uncle whose sword was raised.

  “Go!” He said again and his uncle pulled at Ten. Ten shook his head, his raven black bangs dancing in the wind.

  “No.” He said and pulled his arm to himself. “You guys run.”

The men dropped the wooden box and their heels and ran. Mark’s uncle gave him a short nod. Then Ten grabbed his wrist and ran in between the trees. When they heard steps behind them they sprang up and crawled up while jumping from tree to tree. “The 5^th clan is near, we passed it not long ago.” Ten called and Mark answered with an ‘yeh!’

Then a deep voice rung behind them. “HEY!”

Mark’s grip faltered but Ten swung over and grabbed the back of his shirt and swung him just enough until he could grab a branch when he fell. They had practiced that many times.

Jumping over a river and landing upon the ground they continued to run. The 5^th clan was known for being surrounded by rivers at the north side of the mountain that separated them from the land of the Damned.

Mark glanced back and saw a pair of white eyes glow and light red. He gasped, why had the smallest of the male Damned white eyes? That hadn’t been seen before. Ten and Mark barged through the 5^th’s clans border by jumping from the trees over their fence and landing inside one of the villages closest to the Damned’s land.

Mark immediately closed his eyes as soon as he stood. His balance was good enough so that he wouldn’t sway on his feet. Ten turned around and wrapped a piece of cloth over his eyes. It was soft as silk and it would probably look like as if he was one of the Night Soldiers who were blind since birth. They could battle without relying on their sight which made them great warriors at night.

  “Who are you?!” A deep voice roared and Ten stepped closer to Mark. “We are from the 7^th clan, the Tree Clan.”

Mark heard a slight mutter. “Why are you coming from the direction of the Land of the Damned?” The deep voice asked, it didn’t sound hostile but cautious. Mark shifted the weight on his feet, looking around and breathing in. He could smell them, the stupid Damned had the wind in their backs. They were close too.

  “We were delivering a clan member wh-”

  “They’re here.” Mark said. One of the Damned were climbing the wall. The deep voice gasped.

  “DAMNED!” He yelled and almost immediately a horn was blown and Mark heard the shuffling of people exiting their tents and homes, weapons drawn. He turned around to face the Damned.

He reached out and felt Ten by his side. He pushed the other behind him.

  “I want those three.” The deep voice spoke and Mark knew it was him with the white eyes. Mark felt the sun’s last rays warm his face. They were facing west, which meant the Damned’s eyes had their backs to the sun and their eyes glowed. Mark made to pull off the silk covering his eyes but Ten grabbed his wrist. Then the Damned stopped walking, abruptly halting. “And that boy too.” The voice said again. Then something else climbed the walls. There were more Damned. They had waited for them to catch up. Mark didn’t have a weapon but he listened to the steps and he ran forward and tackled one of the Damned to the ground. The creature hissed at him and he heard Ten draw his sword and fight. The damned he had tackled, he wasn’t sure if it was the white-eyed one, still he made his attempt to claw at the other’s eyes. Even Damned weren’t good without their eyesight. Luckily Mark was used to Ten’s adventures at night and he could climb in darkness. If he could do that, then he could also fight in darkness too.

Mark heard arrows fly and then he heard some boy scream, voice deep and velvety soft. He grabbed the Damned’s head and smashed it into the ground, feeling the body go limp and then he rose. Everyone stopped fighting.

  “His throat goes if you as much as swing another sword.” Mark cursed beneath his breath. He hadn’t gotten the white eyed Damned.

Then someone grabbed him and he struggled against the grip. He heard Ten call out his name until the other was struggling too. Why were they taking others? The Damned had mentioned three and then one more. Mark heard the voice that had greeted them curse at the Damned not to touch him. Mark held his breath.

  “We’ll leave with these 4, thank you for your audience.”

Mark was dragged over someone’s back and he was taken over the wall and through the forest. He hadn’t heard of this before. Would this mean a war between the Damned and the 7 clans? Never had he heard of Damned stealing live people. Except he wasn’t alive. He was one of the Damned.

He was back again at being carried and unable to see anything. He just sensed that the one carrying him was tall and was untouched by the fact that he carried another person. He could hear muffled cries and knew Ten was crying but the velvety voice that had screamed was crying too. They sounded as if they were gagged, but Mark wasn’t gagged.

He took that as a chance to talk. “What are you going to do with them?” He asked not caring about himself. He was Damned no matter what.

The deep voice chuckled. “One of you were Damned, I saw blue eyes. It was foreseen that the Blue Eyed Damned would be killed outside of our land and I couldn’t have that. So I changed destiny and now let’s see what fate will bring the Blue Eyed Damned.” Mark gulped. The white eyed Damned was speaking of him.

  “My name is Taeyong by the way.” He said. “I’m from the 1^st clan, family of the commander, but Damned.” He spoke of it as if he spoke of the weather. “Now three of you haven’t opened your eyes yet and I tell you, you will do that or I’ll force your eyes open. I need to see the blue glow. But this Night Soldier can we just as well ignore. He doesn’t have eyes!”

The Damned laughed. Mark frowned. What would they think when all of the other’s opened their eyes to reveal to this Taeyong that they were alive? Would Taeyong kill them?
 

3. Rule number three, never keep quiet about some who’s sick or damned.

Ten didn’t say a word. Mark didn’t either, and for now he was still a member of the 7^th clan. They were breaking rule three, and this was bringing two from clan 5 in danger.

  “If we told you, would you let the live go?” Mark asked and he heard the white eyed Damned chuckle somewhere ahead of him.

  “No. These will be interesting to have. I like their faces.” He came nearer and Mark closed his eyes tightly when he felt cool fingers touch his chin. “Your face is not bad either.” Taeyong said with a hum and he went over to one of the other’s because the person he touched whimpered.

  “Please open your eyes.” Taeyong said softly. “Blue would suit your beautiful face.”

Mark gritted his teeth, Taeyong was touching Ten. 

A/N: 

Here's the first chapter! Hope you find it interesting, and I and Mark welcome you on this journey, haha <3

Please leave a comment and I will reply to your questions! ^^

Love,
Emma. <3