After that day, Illius settled into a routine, following Eric around and slowly adjusting to life at the compound. He learned that the priest who explained magical theory gave lectures on Tuesdays and Thursdays. On Thursday, he started the lecture on magic with a lecture about women.

“Who can tell me why women shouldn’t use magic like men can?” the priest asked.

Illius saw Eric’s jaw tense as he swallowed and made a point of staring straight forward.

“Eric? You’re usually so vocal.” The priest eyed him.

“Sorry.” He gave a little shrug.

“Ah. Well essentially, women can use small amounts of magic; it was more common in the past. A good number of our sisters are remnants from the era before the war, before the Witch of Dotric. Some women still dedicate their lives to the Allfather and can become healers, but it is not encouraged. Women are best suited to homemaking, not magical theory. Their minds are ill-suited to grasp the complex concepts of magic.”

Ill-suited… Yeah, right. Illius’ mind went back to Dorcas. Magic entranced her—she loved it. Somehow, he knew she would never understand why they wouldn’t let her try.

The priest droned on. “Women have greater propensity of error, so for their safety, wielding raw soulforce in practical magic is out of the question. I think the greatest caution, however, comes from the Witch of Dotric and how easily the Demon Lord corrupted her. It shows the innate female tendency toward darkness, even given her lineage and her raising. Truly, it was against all odds, and the lesson is not lost on the church.”

Eric slumped back farther in his chair.

The priest continued. “Most people do not have magic because they are not in touch with their soulforce. Some of you were born special, chosen by the Allfather and given magical abilities. We can measure a person’s magical ability with a seeing stone.” He held up a tubular glass device, like the one the enforcers had used on Illius in his apartment. That seemed like a lifetime ago.

“The seeing stone not only tells us what kind of elemental affinity a person has, but also how strong that affinity is. Of course, the higher your affinity, the more blessed by the Allfather you are.”

The priest spent the rest of the lecture discussing techniques to pull magic from oneself. For a brief moment, Illius entertained the idea and focused inward. He could feel the pulse inside of him—a small tingling, ready, waiting for him to draw it out. He shoved the thought away. Not here. Maybe not ever.

Instead of going to the training gym after lunch, Eric grabbed Illius’ elbow. “Come on, let’s ditch.”

“What?” Illius asked, startled.

“Come on!” Eric said, deviating from their normal path and leading Illius up several flights of stairs in the main hall. Four flights up, and he opened a door out onto the roof. There, Illius could finally see the mountain peaks that normally hid behind the tall compound walls. The Ruthir River reflected the sunlight, and all of Debendorf lay out before him.

“Excellent place for a nap.” Eric laid down on the roof, closing his eyes under the blue sky.

Illius stood there awkwardly. “Why don’t you want to go to the gym?”

“I’m sick of this place,” he said with a sigh. “I’m not really in the mood to take my anger out on some poor soul.”

The moments passed in silence for a bit, and then Illius sat down by Eric. Illius finally broached a question. “Are you ever scared of your magic?”

Eric opened one eye a slit. “No, but I think it’s scared of me.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s so… shy.” Eric shrugged. “I have to yank on it to get it to do anything. It takes, like, every bit of will in my body to get it to come out.”

“Oh.” Illius’ face fell. He certainly didn’t have that problem.

“Don’t worry. They’ll teach you how to coax yours out,” Eric told him.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Illius mumbled.

“Hey, it's part of you. Nothing to be afraid of.”

How he wished that was true.

Eric put his hands behind his head and used them as a pillow. “If you weren’t here—if you could go anywhere in the world—where would you go?”

“The dragon fields of Skyiad,” Illius answered after a moment’s thought.

“You wanna see a dragon?” Eric laughed.

“I just…” He remembered the dragon rider he had met as a child in Ravenmist, months after his first dragon encounter. The dragon had stood taller than a horse, almost taller than his house. It kept its wings folded against its body, and its dark red scales shimmered with hues of blue and green. “Would you like to pet her?” the rider had asked, and then whistled. The creature had brought her big head down—a head the size of her rider. Illius had stretched out his hand, and the dragon had sniffed it. He stroked the scales of her forehead, and the dragon pushed her head into his chest, forcing him to take a few steps backwards. The rider laughed and said that the dragon liked him. How could he explain that this creature had been the first thing he’d encountered that seemed to understand him?

“They’re cool,” Illius said.

“That they are.” Eric nodded.

“What about you?” Illius asked.

Eric hesitated. “I don’t know. I don’t really know what I’m doing, to be honest. I’m trying to find my big brother, but… that seems impossible at this point.”

Illius hummed in response, waiting.

“He’s, uh… somewhere in the military,” Eric explained. “He got chosen two years ago. I trained hard to get in here and join him, but he’s not here anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” Illius whispered.

“It’s alright,” Eric said. “There’s not much I could really do anyway. I don’t know. I just thought if I saw him again… things would make more sense.”

Illius didn’t understand what Eric was saying, but he didn’t push it.

“I didn’t think I’d have to go through all this bullshit,” Eric continued. “Someday, I’m just gonna flip on these assholes—Allfather help us all when that happens.”

“Is there any way to get out?” Illius asked. “Maybe if you lost your magic or something?”

“I don’t think people can lose their magic,” Eric mumbled. “But if they could, I might try it. Eh, who am I kidding? I like it too much. It’s neat.”

“I can help you,” Illius offered. “Maybe you can escape.”

Eric opened his eyes just a slit again and gave a small laugh. “Thanks… Illius.”

                          ~

The days turned into weeks, and Illius slowly relaxed into his role at Eric’s side. He still didn’t trust the compound or the guards, but something made him trust Eric.

Almost three weeks in, Illius walked behind Sam and Eric to go to the gym.

“Hey, I gotta hit the restroom.” Eric jerked his head to the side. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Don’t you ditch again!” Sam called after him. He rolled his eyes and turned to Illius. “How that guy gets through life is beyond me.”

They walked through the doors, and Sam made his way over to the weights. “Can you spot me, kid?”

“I can try,” Illius said.

Sam started to set the weights when the guard, Derk, who had tried to pick a fight on Illius’ first day, sauntered over. “Where’s your little bodyguard?”

“Hey,” Sam said, glancing over at them. “Leave the kid alone, Derk.”

“Stay out of it, fucking ape.” The guard didn’t even regard Sam.

Illius watched Sam’s muscles tense. It had been over a century since people with Sam’s skin tone had been enslaved by the elites of Patrian society, but that didn’t stop people from looking down on them.

“Derk.” Sam’s voice went low and dangerous. “I said leave him alone.”

“I just came over to apologize. Illius, right?” He stuck out his hand.

Warning bells went off in Illius’ head, but he took a deep breath and clasped the man’s hand. “Yeah.”

Derk tightened his grip on Illius and yanked him forward, catching his neck in a choke hold. “What’cha gonna do now, fucker?”

Illius strained against the man, trying to pull his arm from around his neck. And then Derk yanked his hat off, baring his horns to the world.