Hybrid

Yara was not truly an orphan, or rather, he left his family before he had a chance to become one. Yara hated the life he lived in his village; he was a peasant, always dirty, hungry, and thirsty. His village was just like Gaton, beyond poor, where everyone was filthy and smelled bad. Yara would sometimes sacrifice his drinking water to clean himself. His parents punished him for this, as Yara was infatuated with cleanliness—a problem for them since water was too scarce to be used for anything other than drinking. All they could do was force him to drink the water.

Yara despised the life he was forced to live—always dirty, always smelly. He hated how the villagers threw garbage everywhere and refused to clean. To him, cleanliness was order, and dirt was disorder. Yara also hated disorder, which his village epitomized. When Yara first saw the cleanest man he had ever encountered, the Chaplain of the Citadel, there was no dirt or grime on his face. He wore clean fabrics and even had a pleasant scent. At that moment, Yara knew what he had to do to transcend his animalistic life: he would become a man of God and always be clean.

Yara followed the Chaplain around and begged to join the church. The Chaplain had seen this scenario many times before—children suffering from poverty seeking salvation in the church, though most were rejected. Yara was persistent and began to notice something: he was dirty. The Chaplain didn't want him because he was filthy and smelled bad. The world hated rodents because they carried disease. In this case, Yara was the rodent—dirty and smelly. Who would take a diseased animal into their home?

Yara devised a plan and stole the village's water supply to bathe. He washed his clothes and scrubbed himself thoroughly. Though not perfect, he was a good-looking boy, with all the ugliness finally washed away. He was ready to meet the Chaplain once more. He rushed to the priest, clean and fresh. The Chaplain was surprised; this young man was persistent, and now he was quite handsome—something the Chaplain hadn't noticed before.

Before the Chaplain could react, the villagers came after the boy, accusing him of using the village's water supply to bathe. They were ready to punish him, perhaps even take his life. The Chaplain noticed that as the villagers shouted in anger, explaining the issue, the young boy had no fear in his eyes—only determination.

"I told the boy to use the village's water supply to bathe. I can't accept filth to serve me, can I?" Chaplain Rodes finally chimed in.

The villagers didn't know what to say. If the Chaplain had ordered it, they could do nothing to Yara now. Yara, on the other hand, was delighted to hear this, his face full of smiles.

"I understand, Chaplain, but without water, the village will suffer. Our water is supposed to last us another seven days. That's when the water merchant comes. We'll die of dehydration before then," the Chief complained.

"There is another way to get water," Rodes said to the chief.

"There is?"

"Yes, there is always wild water. You can fetch it from rivers or streams."

"But Chaplain, that's not possible. The wilderness is full of dangers."

"That is now your problem."

"But—"

"Gather your things. We will be leaving in an hour," Rodes said to Yara.

"I have nothing."

"Even better. Let's go."

Yara followed.

---

Yara looked at his arm, the white priest robe he was wearing now sullied by the man in front of him. Yara was wearing expensive fabric that was extremely comfortable, and it was his favorite robe.

"Are you tired of living?" Yara spoke.

From behind Yara, a Guardian Commander came wielding a sword aimed at Soso's neck. Soso dodged the attack by stepping back a few feet.

On his sleeve, Yara noticed the print that Soso's hand left. His robe was now dirty; he was akin to a rodent again. Yara's face twisted in fury. He went into the carriage and donned gloves—strange gloves with beast claws at the fingertips, making it seem as if Yara had claws.

"Valiant Priest, please have mercy on this ignorant young man. He knows not what he does," Atlas pleaded. In just a few seconds, the situation had escalated beyond his control. He wanted to save Soso's life.

Yara simply swiped his hand and cut Atlas's neck. The attack was casual, unexpected, and ruthless. The claws on Yara's hands were red as iron, emitting extreme heat.

Soso was shocked; everyone was shocked. Atlas dropped to the ground with blood gushing from his neck. Soso tried to rush to him but was blocked by a sword strike from a commander. He couldn't help but dodge. Soso became more furious, feeling his wrath build up within him. His eyes began to change from brown to yellow.

Yara wanted to make this man pay for ruining his clothes and making him dirty. He launched an attack, swiping his claws at Soso, who easily dodged, only to be cut from behind by a blade that drew blood. Soso was surrounded by two commanders and one priest. The odds were against him.

The youth with Soso stepped in to back him up.

"Everyone, don't get involved. This was my fault, so this is my fight."

Soso removed his shirt, revealing his muscular build. His skin was light brown, with a broad back and shoulders. He stood at seven feet tall. He was indeed intimidating, but in the face of real power, intimidation alone didn't work.

Soso's comrades stepped back; they knew what would come next.

Soso crouched on the ground, facing down. Yara and the commanders found this strange.

"Was he giving up?" they wondered.

Yara observed the scene. Something didn't feel right. He waited, but one of the guardians couldn't wait any longer. He attacked with his sword viciously, swinging down on Soso's neck. He wasn't planning on using his gun; that would be a waste of resources on vermin.

Before the sword could strike his neck, Soso disappeared from where he was and reappeared behind the commander. Yara and the other commander were astonished. The biggest surprise, though, was the commander's head, spinning in the air, severed from its body. Yara looked at the head indifferently. The commander was rash, and now he had lost his life. Yara continued to observe Soso, his intuition telling him that something was wrong.

It would have been smarter to let Soso reveal his cards first, but since the commander was rash, Soso had the element of surprise and took out a dangerous enemy with relative ease. One down, plenty to go.

As the commander's head hit the ground, the other commander had already drawn his weapon, but Soso had moved from where he was and was nowhere to be found.

"Now it makes sense. I had wondered how this village survived on wild water and why they weren't dealing with a water merchant."

Yara's eyes followed Soso, who went straight for the weakest members of Yara's men. He slaughtered them mercilessly, mowing through the recruits and enforcers like grass. Soso was fast; normal eyes couldn't follow him, let alone react to his attacks.

"I'm impressed. This guy has good instincts—taking out the weakest link is the way to go. If you're going to fight someone dangerous, having weaklings around poses more danger, even if you were to win and become weakened as a result," Yara thought as he noticed the commander fail to aim at Soso, who moved like a killing machine.

A few weaker guardians remained. Soso finally stopped his attack and looked at Yara. He stood covered in blood, his hands now grown into beast-like claws, dripping with the crimson liquid of his victims.

Yara knew what the look meant: both of them would lose if they fought. Soso was demonstrating his power, showing that if they fought, both he and Yara would die.

"Don't engage," Yara said to the commander, who finally had a shot.

"But Priest—"

"Lower your weapon."

The commander complied.

"Let's leave this place."

The commander was confused but asked no more questions. They gathered up their fallen, got into their carriages, and left.

Soso watched them go. As they disappeared over the horizon, he sighed in relief. Soso knew he couldn't maintain his power for long, and if the fight had continued, he would have died. But his survival was temporary; the church would definitely come for him, and they would definitely come for the village. They could no longer stay here, they had to leave this place, they had to leave their home and become wonderers until they can settle in a new place or be accepted in a new villaged, which was very unlikely to happen since most villages were struggling and didn't accept a lot of people. 

---

As Yara watched the village disappear over the horizon, he could only think to himself as he looked at the mark of filth in his clothing:

"A hybrid. How peculiar."