Thirtyx inhaled a shuddering breath. “So— so, Grimmary…?” 

Benn nodded grimly. "Yeah, he knows Pfah magic, too. Doesn't use it very often... and he doesn't want us to, either. The knowledge that borrowing their magic is even possible is wildly dangerous. That's why he didn't want to tell us until we were old enough to understand the responsibility."

"And old enough to do the ridiculous training regimen he's requiring," Rhea groaned.

Thirtyx rubbed his eyes with his fingertips. “Well if it’s so dangerous and secretive, why even teach you?”

"Grimm wants us to have a tactical advantage when we take the throne," Benn sighed. "The ability to use a type of magic that is completely foreign to the rest of the world's inhabitants—that they can literally never use—is insanely valuable."

Thirtyx blinked at the worlds circling in Benn's palm. Had this, then, been the secret to Grimmary’s successful conquest of Lamiakk? Did it play a role in his longstanding grip on the throne? The impossibly unfair advantage made Thirtyx’s stomach squirm, but judging by the conflict in Benn's eyes, he wasn’t alone. 

Thirtyx eyed the seemingly insurmountable gap between the worlds in Benn's model. He reached out to touch it—to spin it himself to get a better look.

"Thirtyx, no!" Rhea shouted.

A burning, searing pain exploded through Thirtyx's finger. As he recoiled, the pain surged up the nerves in his arm. Thirtyx cradled his arm to his chest as Benn dropped the model and leapt off the bed to hover over his friend. "Thirtyx?" he demanded. "Thirtyx, are you alright?"

"Not exactly," Thirtyx said through gritted teeth. The pain was subsiding, but not quickly. Despite his inability to use magic, he'd never had trouble interacting with it before. "What in the Twins' name—"

"People from Lamiakk can't tolerate Pfah magic," Rhea said, wandering over as Benn sank back onto the bed, head in his hands. "You have to be really careful when we're using it. It could kill you!"

Thirtyx massaged his buzzing fingers. "Kill... me?" The implication wormed its way through his brain. Was this what Benn had actually meant by a tactical advantage?

Thirtyx looked up from his fingers, terror in his eyes. "Is... is this how Grimmary took the throne so easily?"

Rhea bit her lip. Benn pressed his fingers into his eyes with more force. The energy of the unsaid words flooded Thirtyx's veins and merged with the pain in his arm and the horror in his chest. His heart stuttered out of control again. He gasped for air. His fingers wrapped around his long ears in frustration, and he shoved his head between his knees again.

"Thirtyx?"

"Why would you tell me this?!" he spluttered. "These secrets—if anyone ever asks me about any of it, I can't—"

"I know." Rhea put a hand on his shoulder. "It wasn't an easy decision. We debated it the whole way here. But you're our best friend, and we trust you more than anyone. You know that, right?"

"You'd have hated us for not telling you," Benn said through his fingers. "There was no good solution."

Benn was right, but it didn't make Thirtyx feel any better about the information now permanently seared into his brain—information he couldn’t deny if he needed to. Perhaps Grimmary had kept the world stable for longer than ever before, but Thirtyx knew better than anyone that his legacy wasn’t set in stone.

There were still plenty of Lamiakk residents who didn't like that an outsider was ruling their world and would jump at the chance to dethrone him. Perhaps he had most of the world on his side, but a single well-placed attack could circumvent massive armies. And if information like this got to the wrong people…

Like the people who had raised Thirtyx.