“Don’t call me that,” I snapped automatically.
“Wha—why not? It’s your name,” he said, searching my face in confusion.
I sat down next to him and took him by the shoulders.
“Listen to me closely, Luke, because this is the last time we use those names. You need to get this through your head,” I began. “We areanonymos. We have no name but what the Legion gives us. We arekamiaokogeneia. We have no family but what the Legion gives us.”
“That’s bullshit!” he said angrily. “They can’t take your name, or your family!”
“They can, and they do,adelfos,” I said. “We aren’t people to them anymore. We are Mageia. We are soldiers. We are tools. We are slaves who exist only to please our masters,” I continued.
“So—you weren’t kidding when you said you ‘named’ me,” he said.
“Sorry, I couldn’t think of anything else in the moment,” I chuckled.
He shrugged. “I guess it doesn’t matter. It’s just… going to take some getting used to.”
I nodded. I remembered going through the same period of adjustment from being called Elex to Kataramenos.
“At least you’re used to me calling you vlakas,” I teased.
He grinned.
“So what’s your name here? Mikros?” He teased.
I punched him in the arm.
“Ow!” he exclaimed, rubbing his arm.
“I am not short,” I sniffed. “I’m just not a giant, unlike some people.
His grin grew wider. I’d always been a little touchy about my height.
“Seriously,” he sobered. “What should I call you?”
I grimaced. He had to know sometime.
“Kataramenos,” I said, but hurriedly continued. “But most people call me Kat.”
Luke’s eyes narrowed.
“You are not cursed,” he insisted, his voice rising.
I pulled away from him.
“Yeah, well, it sure seems that way,” I said a little bitterly. “Mitera died, Erix died, then Davidus and I became Mageia,” I said tonelessly. “And now…”
“And now… me,” Luke said, a sigh escaping him.
I nodded.
“I think they named me pretty accurately,” I responded.
“Elex—” he started, but I interrupted him.
“You can’t call me that,” I said angrily. “Seriously. Rule number one. Even when it’s just us. I’m Kat, you’re Vlakas, or just V if you prefer. If they catch us using our real names…” I shuddered. “I saw one of the Neos have his tongue torn out for using someone’s old name. He—he drowned in his own blood.”
I still had nightmares about that boy.
