Click, open

Click, open.

I knew if they found out I had worn it in again, they would take it away from me. It was the only thing I had left of the family I was born to, but never raised by. It was a risk I was willing to take.

My fingers covertly clicked the heart-shaped locket open and closed as I drowned out the voice of our instructor. There was no need to listen, as they gave the same lecture every day.

Click, closed.

“Always be aware of your surroundings…”

I focused on the clicks.

Click, open.

“...distinguish between friend and foe.”

Click, closed.

Friend and foe filtered through my mind. Just like all the others, I had raised myself to be leery of the names of those I met. Introductions were more important now than ever before.

That either a Casey or a Nico could be the undoing of me wasn't always my primary focus. I would rather they be a Tiberius or a Zena. I had zoned in on the name Nico, my gut telling me this would be the name of my would-be killer.

Click, open.

At birth, a Caramori is blessed with two markings etched on their skin. Two names, one destined to be your soulmate, the other your assassin. Mine both happen to be located on the bottom of my feet.

Being on the soles of my feet brought forth both teasing as well as jealousy from my fellow Caramori. It wasn’t a constant reminder of my possible fates. An ancient saying: Out of sight, out of mind. I could somehow ignore them if I wanted to. It was a ridiculous notion, but in part true.

Click, closed.

My name, Edict, was emblazoned on the forearm of a member two years my senior. Not a common name I grant you. The fact that another Caramori could be your murderer had been unheard of. I couldn't help but be relieved his name, Gerald, was not on my feet. There was no way I could ever love someone like him.

Click, open.

Love or death. It was a kind of torture to subject those born to protect.

Click, closed.

After surviving the aftermath of the great war, these markings had been what distinguished those born to service among all who were left to rebuild the world from the ruins of greed. Love, peace, and honour over destruction, hate and death.

Click, open.

If ever forced to take a life, it was only in the act of saving another. Caramori supported Caramori. We were a team. It should have been in the commandments: Thou shall not take the life of a fellow Caramori. But it wasn’t. I had checked.

Click, closed.

But I digress. This isn't really about the names of my fellow Caramori. It is about the ones emblazoned on my own skin. Those are the names I needed to focus on.

A commotion at the door drew our attention. Our instructor, who would not welcome such an interruption, stormed towards the ruckus. I followed his form until my eyes landed on the white lines etching over what could only be every inch of the torso belonging to our latest arrival.

Click, open.

My breath caught at the distinctive letters on a forearm:

E-D-I-C-T

"I heard an Edict trained here." A menacing pose was struck in the middle of the doorway.

Getting to our feet, those who I had trained my entire life with stood taller in this intruder's presence. Their statures always protective of my smaller one. The reality that yet another Caramori had my name emblazoned on them seemed like a cruel twist of fate.

Click, closed.

I pushed through them to come within a foot of a woman. Our eyes locked before I watched hers rove down my petite frame to size me up.

But none of it mattered unless she answered the question on everyone's mind.

My voice coughed slightly as if the query could somehow go unasked and then finally tumbled from my mouth, "What's your name?"

"Casey."