Ezekiel

Umaric. The one word that must mean joy and happiness in my life whether I like it or not. Umaric — the bane of my existence — the destruction of my youth. The ongoing propaganda that is being shoved down our throats, into our ears.

Ezekiel tried his hardest to keep his sixteen year old sister, Charity, safe. Safe from them. From the ones who ended their happiness.

The ones who never gave Charity a chance to know their parents.

The ones who had stolen their lives away.

They were only children when the Council of Justice ransacked their home and sold it all within the span of forty-eight hours. Charity had been four years old. Ezekiel had been eight. They struggled in the streets of Umaric for two weeks without anyone giving them a second glance. Charity had almost died — something Ezekiel will never forget.

The harsh faces of the Officers as they marched passed them on the streets never left his mind. Anger and rage clouded his judgment. Umaric never had a chance with Ezekiel: he escaped its grasp like smoke eluding the bare hands of greedy humans. He knew that underneath the polished side of the diamond held corruption and abuse.

His parents were right. Umaric was a once-upon-a-time beauty that was slowly fading.

He'll never forget the Poor House that Charity had to grow up in. The way the older men would leer at her when she was forced to sleep in the main room. Protecting her was all he had left. If he lost Charity, his life would become meaningless — empty.

By law Charity should have been adopted into an occupation, just as Ezekiel had been. The truth was that jobs were becoming scarce for women in the Poor District. It wasn't what it once was.

A few of the Officers had their eyes on her.

If she wasn't careful, the Umaric Council would force her into a lifetime of servitude. These are dire times. Men want what is hard to come by. Women are not safe walking alone.

Ezekiel is grateful for the marriage laws even if it means his time is almost up. It still gives Charity a chance at happiness.

A Umaric citizen has a chance to fall in love and marry until the age of twenty-one. At that age, if unmarried, the Umaric Council will assign a spouse to the unmarried person. Ezekiel is almost twenty-one.

Ding — ding — ding. Ding — ding — ding.

The sound of metal on metal. The destruction of an object so in harmony with the blacksmith's forge. The one who can manipulate something into existence just by a small tilt of the hand.

Ding — ding — ding. Ding — ding — ding.

Ding — ding — ding. Ding — ding — ding.

"Ezekiel!" a rough voice shouted over the roaring flames and harsh winds.

Ezekiel Thoris set his hammer down and turned to face his superior. He had forgotten how much he could lose himself in his work.

Ezekiel's superior was a stout and robust man. His face was crude and rough from years of working as a blacksmith and from the hard conditions that came hand-in-hand with living in the Poor District. "These were supposed to be delivered an hour ago. To the Manor." His voice was rough and scratchy.

Ezekiel shrugged, "It wasn't my job, sir. I'm still working on the sword order for the Officers." His voice was lazy and arrogant as he responded.

"Hold your tongue, mar! There'll not be any smart mouths today. The Council of Justice keeps us in work, boy. Learn that and your head won't be as thick as it is."

A sour taste filled Ezekiel's mouth at the mere mention of the Council of Justice and at the fact that his superior had used the word mar. It was one thing for a wealthy to use that term. But for one of his fellow members of the Poor District to use it ... despicable and disrespectful. His superior should know better than to use the derogatory word of the Wealthy District.

He would never use that word to describe anyone.

As he watched his superior vanish into the dark smoke and confusing marble streets, a shiver ran down his spine. It was his job to deliver those boxes.

He picked up the sword he had been working on and plunged it into the cold, icy water. Charity was the only thing keeping his emotions in check. Without her delicate mind around, he would go mad with Umaric and its never ending rules.

Pity and sadness emerged from his deep green eyes as he watched the people of the Poor District walk to their morning duties. His dark brown hair, almost black, blew freely in the early morning breeze. Ezekiel couldn't wrap his mind around all of the injustice in his sad, unyielding world.

The wall surrounding the entire country of Umaric always held his attention. It was a never ending reminder of his parents' tragic deaths and of Umaric's tyrannical control over himself and his fellow citizens. They were put in charge of building a bridge that connected the outer wall to the main government's headquarters. Towards the end of its completion, the bridge collapsed, taking with it Kiel and Larissa Thoris.

The main government thought that Ezekiel's parents had committed treason.

The bridge was never completed.

Instead of taking care of the children, like the law stated, the government had ransacked the house. In an act of defiance for not finding any binding evidence, the house and all its contents were sold. Ezekiel and Charity suffered from Umaric's rage.

Ezekiel will never forget.

He set down the sword and picked up the boxes that were supposed to have been delivered an hour ago to the Manor House. As he made his way through the dirty, smoky, and crowded marble streets, his thoughts turned toward the things his parents had told him as a child:

* * *

Larissa Thoris was a rare person to find amid the streets of Umaric. With deep black hair and intense, cloudy gray eyes, she was the object of everyone's attention. Raised strictly in the Poor District, the Wealthy District wanted her and her exotic looks to help campaign for the rebuilding of the Manor House which housed all of Umaric's councils and official business.

When she married Kiel, a strong, fierce and determined man with sandy blonde hair, deep blue eyes, and also from the Poor District; the Wealthy District wanted nothing more to do with her regardless of the fact that she was forced to marry in the first place.

At the age of twenty-one, Kiel already had a bad reputation amongst the Umaric Council. There were rumors of conspiracy with his name plastered right in the middle of it.

Ezekiel was born the day Kiel turned twenty-six. Larissa and Kiel were determined to make sure Ezekiel knew the truth behind Umaric. Both his parents knew things that would shake the very foundations of Umaric if they decided to let something leak.

On Ezekiel's fifth birthday, Kiel gave him his necklace. Connected to a simple silver chain was a key of sorts. In the middle was a tiny silver ball. Surrounding it were four metal oval circles that created an almost star-like shape.

Larissa didn't allow Kiel to tell Ezekiel what is was for.

Instead, Larissa told him, "Remember, Ezekiel, that these walls are a prison. They are meant to keep us in, not keep others out. The rules that are in place must be followed or else they will kill us. It has been done before, my son. Umaric is a ruthless place. Look at me, Ezekiel. " Larissa...