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(continued)

Origin (formerly Long Beach Peninsula)

May 8th, 2073

Seth felt his mouth go immediately dry as he looked upon the shadowed form of the caretaker, his eyes widening under that dark, raven black stare. The air within the cemetery seemed to grow colder, almost frigid, and he could swear that he felt a static charge building as the hairs on his arms stood up ever so slightly. What was going on? Was the caretaker really that powerful?

“I, I’m sorry,” Seth replied, licking his lips as he had to restrain himself taking a step back. He’d seen wild animals that would give chase the moment a person didn’t stand their ground, and for some reason he had the idea that the caretaker wasn’t too far removed from doing the same thing if provoked. Seth knew that being here was violating an unspoken rule that many had learned to follow, but he couldn’t leave without finding what he’d come for.

“Be sorry on your way out,” the caretaker said, going silent again as that dark, solid-black stare penetrated Seth just a little more. The caretaker frowned slightly, cocking his head to the side as he said, “You’re an immortal.”

Seth was caught off guard, but he couldn’t help his reply, “Y-yeah. I’m,” he swallowed, “I’m an Ellevayne, one of the-”

“I know what an Ellevayne is,” the caretaker said gruffly. His beard and mustache barely moved as he spoke, but his eyes were still what transfixed Seth the most. They were like dark pools that could imagine many had fallen into, perhaps to their peril.

An Ellevayne was an immortal being that was slightly less powerful than their cousins, the Shapers. It had long been rumored that the caretaker was one or the other, as it was said that he’d been a part of Origin for a very long time. But being here now Seth didn’t get any of the same feeling he did from his own kind. He did however get the impression that this man was extremely powerful, and that crossing him would be a very big mistake.

“Why are you here?” the caretaker asked, surprising him. Seth had expected a demand for him to leave again, and perhaps even to be struck for daring to stand in the man’s presence any longer. He certainly hadn’t expected this.

Licking his lips nervously again he looked around at the greenery surrounding him, wondering for just a split second what to say. Finally he worked up the nerve and the words came spilling out.

“My name is Seth Tidesun,” he said with at least some confidence, “and I’ve come for what’s left of my father.”

(to be continued)

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