I’ve been kidnapped. It wasn’t the forces of evil or human supremacist cultists. No, it was a far sinister force. Their names are Hopper and Penelope. They pulled me from the warmth of my bed and into the grasp of the cold, uninviting outdoors. I mean, it’s the weekend, who would do something so foul other than something beyond evil? Evil Plus. Yeah, that has a good ring to it. I’ve outdone myself.

  “Princess, he’s making that face again,” Hopper says as we walk down the streets of the capital.

  Penelope looks over with a questioning face. “Don’t worry, that’s not his ‘I’m going to escape face’, it’s his ‘I’m thinking something stupid face’,” she explains.

  “I do not make faces!”

  “Whatever you say, Charlatan,” Penelope says as she gives me a smirk.

  I lean over to Hopper and whisper, “Do I make faces?”

  Hopper gives me a pained smile. “Only sometimes. When you're deep in thought, you give like a sinister smile or a small evil chuckle,” he explains.

  The local food bank comes into view as a realization dawns on me. Have I been making faces this entire time, and nobody's told me? Why has nobody told me? Is that why some of my classmates steer clear of me during lunch? No, it can’t be? It has to be for some other reason.

  “You’re doing it again,” Hopper whispers.

  “Never mind that. Thank you, Hopper and Penelope, for escorting me to the local food bank. I can take it from here,” I say as I go to open the door.

  Penelope abruptly stops me. “Oh, I don’t think so.”

  “Whatever could be the problem, Penelope. I’m going to go volunteer like I said I would,” I say with a devilish smile.

  “Do you think we’re stupid, Charlatan? The moment we turn our back, you’ll find some sort of way to get out of it. So, we’ll walk you all the way in,” she says with a sweet smile.

  “Ok. If you insist,” I say as all the pieces fall into place.

  Walking into the local food bank, we are greeted by the old man that we all talked to last weekend.

  With a big smile, I give him a big hug. “It’s good to see you again, Frank. Are you ready to start the day?” I ask with a large amount of enthusiasm.

  “Oh, CJ, thank you again for coming yesterday to help set things up. The food is of the highest quality we’ve ever had. Everybody is going to love it,” Frank says as he beams with joy.

  Penelope eyes me with suspicion. “You came here yesterday?" she asks.

  “Well, of course he did. You all did. Thank you again for volunteering to help out today and tomorrow,” Frank says to Hopper and Penelope.

  Hopper, with confusion riddling his face, asks, “What do you mean, Mr. Frank?”

  “Well, you came late yesterday after CJ left and told me that you were inspired by your friend's dedication and wanted to donate your time as well," Frank says to Hopper.

  “And what did I say?” Penelope says as she eyes me down.

  “Well, you came in right after Hopper here and told me that you just wanted to donate your time,” Frank says with a wink.

  I give the biggest shit-eating grin as I put my hands around my friend's shoulders. “I’m so proud of you guys. Volunteering to help the needy and not just today, but tomorrow as well. I almost wish I could be as selfless as you guys, but I sadly already have plans tomorrow, so I can only help today.”

  Frank gives a hearty chuckle. “You’ve helped more than enough already, CJ. You all have. Not many students would give up even a fraction of their time to help those who need helping. It’s good to see youth involved in public service. You almost bring a tear to my eye. This world is truly in good hands.”

  I give my friend's shoulder a squeeze. “We’re happy to help. Aren’t we guys?” I ask as they give me a look that could kill.

  “Yes, we are,” Penelope and Hopper say in unison.

  “Marvelous. I’ll go get your uniforms," Frank says as he heads further into the local food bank.

  The moment he leaves Penelople begins to speak up. “How did you do it?”

  “Do what, Penelope? Help the needy?” I ask with an air of cluelessness.

  “Stop playing dumb, Charlatan. How did you make it seem like we personally donated our time?” she asks with a hint of seriousness.

  “Fine. I used a [Skill] called [Disguise]. It lets me turn into whoever I can think of,” I say as I lean on the countertop.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “You can shapeshift?” Hopper asks with surprise.

  “It’s not really shapeshifting. It’s more like an illusion. It doesn’t actually physically change me, it just makes me look like who I’m thinking of,” I explain.

  Penelope gives me a worried look. “Charlatan, you must never tell anybody you can use that [Skill]. Do you understand me?” she asks.

  The sudden seriousness of her voice catches me off guard. “Okay, but why?”

  Hopper chimes in as he looks around to make sure nobody is looking. “[Disguise] is an evil [Skill].”

  I look at them, trying to find a laugh or twinge of a smile. “Oh, you’re being serious. There’s such a thing as ‘evil’ [Skills]?”

  Penelope nods her head. “The Church has deemed certain [Skills] evil. Although [Disguise] isn’t one of those [Skills], [Shapeshift] sure is, and I don’t need to tell you how similar they are,” she explains.

  “When in the hells did the Church say that and why?” I ask as I rack my brain through my eighteen years of life, trying to find even a smidgen of memory related to this.

  “Since always Charlatan and because those [Skills] are regularly used by the forces of evil and by criminals. Other [Skills] include [Lie], [Steal], [Drain], and [Curse],” Penelope explains.

  Oh, that’s not good. Half of my [Skills] are considered ‘evil’. Even more reason for me to never show anybody my [Stat Window]. Fuck.

  “Well, although the Church considers them evil, they aren’t technically illegal. They’re just heavily frowned upon. Except for The Chosen One. I’m sure the Church wouldn’t like that The Chosen One is using evil [Skills],” Hopper says.

  As I go to speak, the door opens with Frank carrying over three grey uniforms. “Who's ready to serve the needy?”

  We all raise our hands up.

  The splat of my food can be heard as I serve the man in front of me. Nothing like chicken soup on a cold winter day. I would’ve loved to have some of this back home, but smelly Doug and I had been banned from the local food bank. Something to do with smelly Doug and the owner. I never really asked him. I’m sure it was well deserved.

  To my right, I see Penelope with her hair tied up, serving bread and some salad. Then, to my left, I see Hopper giving out blankets, jackets, and mittens. To think we’ve already been at this for four hours, and the line has not gotten any smaller. That’s the capital for you. I mean, back home, there were plenty of homeless people, me included, but I knew every single one of them. I’m certain that if I even spent a lifetime in the capital, I wouldn’t be able to meet even half of the people here.

  Every now and then, I get a ‘Thank you’ and sometimes even a ‘May the Gods bless you’, but the majority won’t even acknowledge me. Then there’s the small majority that’ll leave a snide remark like ‘To be served by a Vashrin’ and ‘Devil’. So, so far it’s been a good time. I was a bit worried I might get recognized, but those worries quickly faded when I realized how clean I looked compared to how I usually did. I’m basically a whole different person. Yeah, keep no mind to the purple skin or red glowing eyes or sheep horns. I’m basically unrecognizable.

  Penelope looks over at me with a pained look.

  I give out a sigh as I serve another person. “What is it, Penelope?”

  “I hadn’t realized there were this many…” she says.

  “Yeah, there sure are a lot of them. It’s probably because of the Blight,” I say, remembering some stories that smelly Doug used to tell me.

  He was actually from the east before the Blight took his home. He lost everything and couldn’t get a job. Makes sense, he was Blight Touched. It doesn’t really mean anything, but to a prospective employer, it means everything. I imagine a lot of these people are in the same boat. Homes lost to the Blight, and they can’t even get a decent job to feed themselves.

  “I know. It’s just so many of them…” she says, trailing off.

  “Oi, don’t go pitying us, pretty lady,” one of the old men in line says.

  “Shut your mouth and take the food, old timer,” I say as I serve him.

  “Yeah, yeah. This is damned good by the way,” the old man says as he continues down the line.

  “Wasn’t that a bit rude even for you, CJ?” Hopper asks.

  “Rude? That’s just how we talk,” I say as I continue to serve.

  “We?” Penelope asks.

  Shit. I got a bit too comfortable. I need to be more careful. I can’t let them know too much about my past.

  “Yes, we as in men,” I [Lie].

  Penelope gives me a strange look and is going to say something, but is interrupted by Frank. “You’ve all been working far too hard. How about you take a lunch break?”

  “Fine by me,” I say as I trade places with some of the other volunteers, but not before I grab myself a plate of food.

  We then head out to the common area and begin to eat. As we do, I take out a bag of cookies.

  “Are those the ones that I can eat?” Hopper asks.

  “What do you mean?” Penelope asks.

  “He’s been hoarding cookies and only lets me get certain ones from a certain bag,” he explains.

  “Why are you doing that, Charlatan?”

  “Let’s just say that I’m planning something, and yes, Hopper, you can eat these cookies,” I say as I place the bag in front of me.

  As Hopper goes to reach for them, a small child looks up at him with puppy dog eyes. “Are those cookies, mister?” she asks.

  Hopper looks at me and then back at the child. He then gives a long sigh and hands a cookie to the kid. The kid gives a small bow before running away.

  “Well, you’ve done it now,” I say as Hopper tries to take a bite of a cookie.

  “What do you-”

  “Mister, we heard you have cookies,” a small gaggle of children asks Hopper.

  “Ah, yes, I do,” Hopper says, defeated as he begins to hand out cookies to the growing line of children.

  Penelope looks over at me.

  “What?” I ask as I take a bite of my own food.

  “Nothing.”

  “I’d like to eat my food in peace, Penelope. That is something I can’t do if you’re staring at me,” I say as I place the spoon down.

  Penelope hesitates for a second. “Were you homeless?” she asks with a soft tone.

  “No.” I [Lie].

  “Ok.”