As Alexander, son of Xavier, walked through the crowd of people in the marketplace, someone who didn’t know any better would think he was royalty. The brown-skinned youth strode forward with all the confidence of a general and all the regal bearing of a king. The bags laden with groceries he carried did nothing to detract from his commanding presence. As he went, the crowd parted before him. But they did so not out of respect, but out of fear. Alex might seem human at a first glance, but there were signs otherwise, such as his pointed ears. While Alex was human on his father’s side, his mother was Kenlor, those hardy and enchanted tribespeople that Men considered savages. In the eyes of many, this was a crime beyond all forgiveness. But despite the prejudice he faced daily, Alex refused to hide what he was, and the word shame held no meaning for him. Neither did humility.
"What the merry Hell?"
Alex stopped in his tracks as a shrewish, gray-haired woman ejected from the crowd.
"Have you no shame? No humility?" The woman glared at Alex.
"Madam, I am--" he said.
You are? Look at me. I just trekked half a frigging mile through this godforsaken parking lot on my bad foot -- I'm diabetic, you know; tell him Herb."
"She's diabetic, you know . . . " Herb told him.
"Because you"--she smacked him with her umbrella -- "took the only handicapped space. Are silly pointy ears a disability now? I don't think so. Are--" she looked -- "Pop Tarts a disability? Not in this version of reality. So what have you got to say for yourself? Eh? Eh?"
Alex had nothing to say for himself. He threw his groceries into his car and drove away, having just learnt the meaning of righteous indignation.
Opening: Brett Wade.....Continuation: ril