Free Redefined by Jamie Magee

argument, he went to the side of the room and grabbed an overgrown mirror, then carried it to the fireplace. Before the fire, there was a wooden circle with all those stars, rings, and triangles on it. He moved it from the light, taking the moving symbols away from the glow of the room.
    “All right fine, then. Just show me your back,” he said in disbelief when he noticed I hadn’t moved.
    I stood and walked over to him. With one arm he angled me so my back was to the fire.
    “Go on now, bare your back.”
    I let my hoodie fall to the floor and pulled my tank top up so he could see my back. He held the mirror before me.
    “Little closer.”
    I stepped back, and as I did I could see in the mirror that same pattern on my back. It was deep within my skin and glowing ever so slightly.
    “The crest of The Selected. Yours has grown. I guess you were right: you do belong on the front lines,” he said with dismay and grief in his deep tone.
    “What is this?” I said with a gasp.
    The crest began at the top of my shoulders and expanded the width of my back all the way down to my waist. The rings were defined within two triangles. There were glowing circles and paths between them. If you had a vague imagination, you would be able to see two universes side by side, protected by a pentagram.
    “We would get through this reunion a lot faster if you would stop asking questions that I just answered,” he said, then handed me the mirror so he could walk around and see my mark more clearly. “All those with our bloodline are born with this mark. That is how we know who can move through The Fall, who will be the ambassadors-slash-warriors for this side. It takes a while for it to show up. Usually you have wicked dreams first that outline your life plan. Your mark was barely showing when I left. You begged me to take you, but I didn’t because this is the last place I would want my sista.”
    His fingertips outlined a space by my spine in the center of my back. In the mirror, I could see his brow furrow, sadness there.
    “What?”
    “Nothing,” he said under his breath, then pulled my shirt down, as if he did not want to see whatever he had discovered there any longer. “You said we had a sista?” he said as he took the mirror from me and walked it back to the wall.
    Completely perplexed, I adjusted my tank top before picking up my hoodie.
    “I have one. Kara has a different father.”
    I saw his shoulders flex as he finished hanging the mirror. It was clear that he could not stand the idea of my mom with another man. I knew my mother couldn’t either, that she would never change her path because she loved Kara, but she only truly loved one man: my father.
    “Has she shown any supernatural gifts? Any at all?”
    “No, but my best friends have, my boyfriend has.”
    “Boyfriend?” he said, looking over his shoulder in disbelief.
    “Yeah, want a quick history? When I was a Witness, he was dark. I convinced him to change his ways, and he fell. I fell with him, and we found each other here.”
    “What kind of dark?” he asked as he turned to face me.
    “One that is fighting who he is to be in balance,” I answered cautiously.
    “What does he fight?”
    “What do you mean? He fights to not become what he is.”
    He furrowed his eyebrows as if I were speaking a foreign language.
    “Mom and Dad love him,” I bluntly stated, oddly wanting his approval for some reason. I was really starting to fall for the long lost family idea of this dream.
    He sighed. “Well, considering how high their standards are, bravo.” There was disdain in his tone.
    “Are you fighting with them over someone you want to be with?”
    He shrugged his shoulders. “Not really the point, now is it? The point is, I need you to get me out of here.”
    “I don’t know how to do that.”
    “You don’t have to do anything. I told you, they tethered me to you,” he grimaced, “as if that even needed to be done in the first place.” He sighed.