A Borrowed Cause

Malcom sat in front of a doctor who was calmly reviewing the notes on a chart. Behind the doctor was a skeleton, and it was looking directly at Malcom.

At least, that's what Malcom felt at that moment. He was not scared, but it just felt weird. Like his instinct was telling him something was wrong but couldn't point it out.

He awkwardly looked around. The entire room was brightly lit, and several skeletons seemed to stand firmly to observe the patients entering the room.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you that this place is extremely creepy, Dr. Jones?" Malcom asked while looking at each of the skeletons in the office.

The doctor looked up to see Malcom over his glasses. He then placed the chart on his desk before speaking emotionlessly, "All patients unable to control their tongue like you."

Malcom smiled before he leaned back in his chair and listened to what the doctor was saying.

"I heard that you had an extraordinary meeting yesterday with Miss Skyler," Dr. Jones seriously said.

"And what about it?" Malcom curiously asked, "Is it relevant to my Mark?"

Dr. Jones hummed before replying, "It depends on what you think."

Hearing those words, Malcom turned his gaze from one of the skeletons to the doctor, waiting for the other to continue.

"There are certain scholars who believe that marks can serve in a certain way as a channel for misfortunes to happen to bearers. Even some less scrupulous scholars dare to affirm that the Marked many times develop behaviors similar to the creatures they sealed."

Malcom looked at the doctor seriously. While keeping his smile, he replied, "Then people should take care of me. I could have a tendency to kill."

"Don't be absurd," the doctor shook his head as if he heard a lame joke.

"What do you mean?"

"The creature that is sealed with your magic does not have murderous tendencies," the doctor started to explain before taking off his glasses, "rather it has the lack of understanding about life in general or how valuable life is."

Malcom's smile disappeared. "You mean you might not appreciate life?" He asked coldly.

"Exactly!" The doctor got up from his seat and walking towards Malcom, "Why else would you be a bitter son of a bitch?"

Malcom abruptly got up from his chair. He was not willing to talk with the doctor anymore. However, before he could take one step, the doctor reached out to one of the skeletons.

It made Malcom freeze immediately. He felt alarmed.

"What the hell are you doing?" Malcom cautiously asked.

"See? Now the impatient son of a bitch," the doctor said as if he was disappointed.

The young man looked at the doctor with obvious frustration and a fit of anger that seemed to overflow from his eyes. Yet, the doctor in front of him ignored these expressions.

Dr. Jones was busy with one of the skeletons.

"Death. That is the rider you represent. And of all the members of that quartet, you are the only one with the need to risk your existence," Dr. Jones spoke without removing his eyes from the skeleton.

Malcom made an effort to speak, but it was impossible for him as he watched as one of the skeletons in front of the doctor little by little took the shape of a muscular physiognomy.

Dr. Jones continued, "You see, many Marked develop that connection with the main characteristic of the creature they seal, but this is not due at all to a secondary effect of the Marks. Of course not. This is due to a psychological need to give their existence meaning."

While the doctor spoke, he checked every inch of the muscle fibers that appeared in front of him.

When he finished the skeleton, he formed a complete layer of skin that was identical to Malcom in every way, including the Mark that the young man possessed.

Malcom could not help but look at the familiar magic circle that was now on the human-like figure in front of him.

"For example, a person with the Mark of the hunger rider can develop a great ambition," after speaking, the doctor took a tiny crystal pointer and continued, "Someone with the Mark of War can become violent, and those Marked with plague can be sickly."

As he said this, the doctor embedded the small crystal pointer inside the Mark on the body in front of him.

Just as he did that, Malcom could feel it entering his skin. The heat that this emitted caused an impulse to scream in Malcom.

Still, he could not lead him out due to his paralysis. The Mark burned hot, and his eyes filled with tears from the pain.

He felt for an instant as his body diminished to the limit of his magic level. The emptiness inside him was such that he even had trouble breathing.

"But only those Marked with the symbol of the Rider Death could develop the characteristic of depression and bitterness which you now show," the doctor explained before, separating from the skeleton that returned to normal, ceasing to be Malcom.

Dr. Jones added, "So you can say… That the hatred, all that depression, and bitterness, including that need of yours to prove your position in the world, are hardly considered your special, inborn characteristics. They are merely a result of the burden you carry."

Malcom felt free once more and could breathe again, and his watery eyes were watching the doctor in front of him.

That guy was two feet shorter than him, and yet he gave the impression of being the owner of the world in comparison.

"In words that you can understand, Marked," the doctor clicked his tongue as if mocking, before continuing, "Rebellion does not characterize you. That is the case as well with the frustration you feel."

"That feeling of self-improvement that your depression generates, or everything that defines your act of individuality, it was all given by the Mark in you," Dr. Jones spoke while looking at Malcom contemptuously.

Malcom turned his back, breathing heavily. He could not stay any longer in that office. He felt suffocated.

But as he stepped away, Dr. Jones continued to torment him.

"And that Mark, we gave it to you," Upon hearing this, the young man put his hand on the doorknob.

When Malcom looked around, he saw the arrogant smile on the doctor's face.

"Therefore, your personality... I gave it to you!"

Malcom stormed out of the office. His steps marked the anger generated by being in that situation, and everyone could see it.

There were few Marked who received the treatment he received, which was all due to his participation in the tournament.

Or so they said.

However, the truth was that Dr. Jones had particular contempt for Malcom, and everyone didn't know the reason.

Malcom walked straight to the door of the place where Violet was waiting for him.

Ben had been called to consult, and when she saw Malcom, she tried to talk to him, but the young man ignored her, walking violently outside that room.

While the night was accompanied by Malcom's anger, a young woman could not catch her dream on another side of the city because of the excitement that the trip she would undertake the following morning gave her.

So much anxiety made it impossible for Skyler to conjure sleep, and she decided to eat something to see if it could help her sleep.

Leaving her room, she heard a person speaking on a communicator.

As she approached the room that was usually empty, she heard her brother say.

"There are already two gentlemen. They are from different Marks... I can't believe it's a coincidence."

The young woman held her breath and decided to listen a little more.

"I don't know. But we'll see what we can find out at church tomorrow."

The young woman did not understand what her brother was talking about, she thought it was surely his job, and she decided to move on. But when she was about to leave, she heard one more phrase that her brother said with a worried tone.

"We will have to protect the Marked sir!"

Skyler stopped instantly upon hearing that phrase, but her brother had finished his conversation after a few seconds. The girl returned to her room, thinking what all this meant and why the Marked should be protected.

That idea drew her attention to the point that she completely forgot her anxiety about the next day's journey until her dream boarded her.

If Skyler was aware that everything as she knew it would be at risk, she would still be anxious...