Vitiosi Dei (Heritage of the Blood Book 2) by Brent Lee Markee Page B

several of the boys seemed to notice the look that Verrian was giving him, correctly interpreted its meaning, and began nudging their neighbors. Suppressing a groan, Shawnrik tried not to look at anyone around him, but as he began to lower his head, he caught a glimpse of one of the girls below him. She was part of the group that he had been watching earlier, her head had been facing front of the amphitheater, so all he could see was her hair, but as she began scanning the crowd he couldn't help but feel that there was something familiar about her. Sweeping her gaze around the crowd, it didn't take long for Shawnrik to see her face, and when he did, his mouth dropped open in shock.
                  Olivia? It was the gypsy girl from the Blood Orc camp where they had all been held prisoner a year and a half before. How the... his thoughts were cut short as the crowd once again reached a quiet hum under the steady gaze of their Headmistress.
                  “Their story, however, was not to be a happy one for long. Nearly two years after their son was born, Lilly and Aerick were the victims of what the authorities deemed as a 'random act of violence.' According to the report, the pair died as their home was torn to pieces by these so called robbers.”
                  A new wave of conversation arose, but this one seemed steeped in a healthy dose of disbelief. Shawnrik too was in disbelief. He had just learned the names of his parents, and now he was learning that they had been murdered by a gang of thugs. The emotions that were at war within him were as confusing as the cacophony of sound coming from the students around him.
                  “Somehow, their son managed to escape this attack, most likely aided by the dying breaths of his parents, and he became an orphan on the streets of the largest city in the world. These circumstances never allowed him the benefit of a formal education.”
                  Once again, the students began to talk amongst themselves, this time the emotions behind the sentiment varied greatly: there was awe, sympathy, and more than a few snide comments about an ignorant street rat being let into the Institute. Shawnrik's jaw began to clench. He wasn’t sure which he liked less, the sympathy or the snide comments, but it wouldn’t have been long before he started tossing people around were it not for the Headmistress's next words.
                  “Some of you will no doubt misconstrue this fact, and think that because of his circumstances, he is an ignorant street urchin; it is for this reason that I even broach the topic at all. With no resources and no one to turn to for help, this boy survived on the streets of Safeharbor alone for nearly eight years, a feat that many adults would find daunting. Around the age of ten, he joined up with other children who were in the same situation as he was, and they survived in the only way available to them—by doing whatever was necessary to make it through the day. During this time, this young man learned several harsh lessons that I hope most of you will never have the opportunity to learn. Think about everything that this young man has gone through and his lack of resources, and know that during this time he still managed to learn to read and write.”
                  Shawnrik wondered why the Headmistress had neglected to mention that it was Victor who had taught him to read and write. He knew that she must have looked over the papers that Instructor Daymarr had written on earlier that day, so the omission must have been on purpose. Part of him was mad at this woman for knowing so much more about his history than he himself knew, but another part was glad that she had not mentioned his friend's name publicly.
                  “He left Safeharbor in the company of a pair of notable individuals before his fourteenth birthday. After a trying series of