***

“Is this really necessary?” Kaelich asks, wincing, as we chain the terrified boy to the silver Y-frame in the interrogation room. His hand is bandaged where my suit’s silver burnt it.

“If we don’t take his deposition, it’s a kidnapping, not an arrest,” Sareas says, obviously annoyed. “And if you don’t think we need the silver frame, go through Cerical’s camera recording and think again, this time better.”

“I’m sorry,” Vakris says. “I didn’t want to use magic. I won’t use it again. I swear.”

He’s been pretty much repeating that no stop since we caught him, and I’d probably be more sympathetic if he hadn’t thrown Elsefire at me.

“We just need to ask you some questions,” Kaelich says, and I almost laugh at xir warm, reassuring smile - somewhat undermined by the fact Vakris is tied to a silver post in an underground, concrete room full of armed people.

“Silver bracers would have been enough,” Jaeleri mumbles. He joined us, not that anyone asked, and has been complaining about everything since the moment he entered the room.

Althea glares at him. “The silver frame is a better suppressor, which is good for everyone. Some mages are actually powerful, and they need proper suppression, you know.”

Jaeleri rolls his eyes. “To use significant magic with silver bracers he should be fourth level, or a trained mind-mage. He’s very obviously not that. But don’t let reason get into the way of torturing some random kid.”

“It’s not torture. It’s standard procedure,” Kaelich says, sounding genuinely hurt.

“It’s standard procedure, and guess what, it’s torture, too,” Jaeleri adds, venom in his words. “Take my word on that.”

He’s exaggerating, of course. Yes, a long interrogation is unpleasant. But this will be short, and touching silver doesn’t hurt mages unless they use their magic.

“Don’t listen to the idiot there,” Kaelich says, looking at Vakris. “We need you to answer only a few questions, and then we can take you to a high suppression cell. You won’t be able to use magic there, even by accident. Then the Council will take you and teach you control, in a few days at most.”

“I didn’t want to!” The boy repeats, his voice catching. He’s crying - oh, come on, he’s being asked routine questions by the nicest person on Refuge. “I was just angry and… everything broke down!”

Kaelich sighs, and takes a notepad, then xe scans the boy’s wrist.

“Corporal Kaelich Anur, beginning debriefing. Do you confirm you’re Vakris Sevelet, aged seventeen?” Xe asks, his tone becoming more formal.

Vakris nods.

Kaelich smiles apologetically. “Please answer aloud. We need it for the deposition.”

“Why do you need this? I’m not a criminal!” Vakris’ voice is breaking.

“You almost exploded in a crowded building, so you’ll have to deal with some inconvenience,” Sareas answers, straining to stay calm. “Answer the corporal’s questions, or I’ll do the asking.”

The boy, at least, is smart enough to know what’s good for him and nods.

“I’m Vakris Sevelet,” he mumbles.

“Did you know you were a mage, before today?” Kaelich asks.

“No! Of course not!” Vakris shouts. “I had some weird nightmares. And I could see orange, closing my eyes. But I thought that was stress?”

“What kind of nightmares?” Althea interrupts, her voice sharp.

“A storm,” he answers, “tearing through the whole city. Voices talking to me.”

Text lines appear at the bottom of my vision – the team’s Stemlink chat.

Kaelich, to team: “Do you know if that kind of stuff is normal?”

Sorivel, to team: “It sure never happened to me.”

“Did the voice form coherent words?” Althea presses on. She can’t read our silent conversation. I really wish Althea could have Stemlink, in situations like this.

“I… I don’t remember,” Vakris says, and I don’t need Sorivel’s talent, to know he’s lying.

“Mage Althea, this is not relevant,” Sareas says. “And corporal Kaelich is doing the debriefing anyway.”

Jaeleri snickers. Althea looks at Sareas with such open contempt, I fear they’ll fight on the spot, but thankfully Kaelich resumes asking questions right away.

“Can you describe the events of today?” Xe asks.

“I… I was angry,” Vakris says. “I’m sorry. I must tell da’ I’m sorry. We had a stupid argument over art college, he said I should get a useful degree first, and I was so angry. Then the world… broke. Everything looked like watercolor being washed away, and anything I looked at, anything I thought about, went flying, and then broke into bits.”

The boy takes a breath, his eyes wide with fear.

“I ran into my room,” he goes on, “because I was afraid of hurting da’, or pancake - my dog. But I kept breaking stuff, and I got more and more scared, and then… I started seeing this orange fog, and there were things moving inside it.” He raises his eyes for the first time since the interrogation started, looking at Althea.

“That’s the Else, right? It’s… it’s terrifying. I could see the inside of things, and a glance was all it took me to break them. And that orange place was… deep, in a way that doesn’t make sense. It was everywhere around me, but also below, like deep water, and there are things beneath. I thought I was drowning. I was on my bed, I knew it, but I was also sinking. And something was getting closer and closer to me. And then… you came.”

There’s silence in the interrogation room.

“Those things were just visions,” Kaelich says. “Don’t worry. They weren’t real.”

“That’s… not correct,” Althea says, her voice low. With a hand held behind xir back, Kaelich gestures at her to shut up.

“I think it all matches our observations,” Kaelich says. “Thank you, Vakris. I’m submitting our report as a case of first use of magic, involuntary, and mark the subject as cooperative. Cerical, Sorivel, are you in favor? And, uh, Althea, too. You don’t sign our report, of course. But still let me know if you disagree.”

Send message, team: “Cooperative might be a bit of an overstatement, the little fucker tried to kill me.”

Kaelich, to team: “He wasn’t in his right mind, and with a compliance report it will go better for him. It’s not like he wanted to go nova.”

I sigh. Kaelich’s heart might be too soft, but xe’s not wrong - we’ve nothing to gain by being harsh, Vakris isn’t a threat to anyone.

“In favor,” I say.

“Fine by me,” Althea adds.

“Me too,” Sorivel says. “You were lucky today, Vakris, believe it or not. I know this is not what you wanted, but the Navigator will show you a way.”

“What will happen to me?” Vakris asks.

“That’s for the Alliance judge to decide,” Kaelich answers. ”But if you want silver tattoos, I’m pretty sure there will be no problem. You’ll learn control and be free by the time winter term begins.”

Vakris sniffs.“Of course I want the tattoos, I don’t want to see that place ever again.”

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

“Wait, Corporal,” Sareas interjects, grim. “The log must be amended to include attempted magical violence to persons. That’s not something you can leave out.”

“Uhm, respectfully, sir,” Kaelich says, looking down. “There was obviously no intent to fight on the mage’s side. And Cerical countersigned the report as it stands.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Sareas says. “Mage Vakris, do you deny that you attacked the agent who tried to subdue you, with magic?”

“I didn’t mean to!” Vakris squeals, despite Jaeleri’s frantic gestures to shut up. “I just… she scared me, she had the sword, and the magic did it on its own!”

Idiot. We could have described it as an uncontrolled discharge of power - even if it would have been a stretch of the truth. But he confessed to attacking me. Don’t people read the Alliance’s charter?

“Intent doesn’t matter,” Sareas says, sounding weary. “That’s the problem with magic. It uses you. You attacked the Blademaster, a crime under article 7.2 of the OWA charter. That must be logged.”

Everyone looks at me, and I realize I must say something.

I also realize that Sareas is right about the law. It’s not my choice, his confession eliminated any wiggle room. This is a report, our duty is just to state the truth. I open my mouth to say that.

Kaelich looks at me, and I know xe’ll be disappointed if I agree with Sareas. I really don’t want to disappoint Kaelich, but that’s a really stupid reason to do anything. But I look at Vakris, too. He’s terrified and confused, and if we log his attempted attack, he’ll have to go through re-education. It’s hard to believe that would be a net gain for society, annoyed as that makes me.

“I believe the subject was heavily confused,” I say, “and he was obviously suffering from hallucinations. His summoning of Elsefire can’t meaningfully be considered an attempt at violence.”

“We can’t leave out whatever we like on those reports, you know,” Sareas says. He sounds disappointed. “The attempted violence must be logged. We’ll include the mitigating circumstances.”

My heart sinks a bit - but in the end, he’s correct, which is more important than right.

I don’t like the way Sareas said that, though. I appreciate respect for the rules. But there’s something disturbing in the way he relishes enforcing rules, when they’ll be harsh toward someone. I can’t do much about it, but for what it’s worth, I make a mental note to add that on the personnel report for Quicksilver.

Vakris looks at us, confused, and no one seems willing to spell out the implications. Weattend in silence, while Kaelich finishes the prescribed questions and takes the boy back to a suppressed cell.

***

It’s a weekday afternoon, it’s already dark, and no one feels like drinking. So, by unspoken agreement, we go bathe in the hot pool.

Some teams bathe together as a social activity - it’s more of a Karesian thing, for some reason this whole continent is crazy about it. Kaelich suggested it a couple of times, but Sorivel and I turned xem down – we didn’t grow up with the habit, we don’t waste water that way, in Zelenia.

With the ridiculous water abundance here, I’m learning to enjoy soaking in warm water, but like most good things in life, I like it best alone. However, it’s the perfect place to relax while avoiding the other teams.

Kaelich and Althea fail to suppress a little smile as I come in wearing a one-piece swimsuit - all the others are naked, but they have the good sense not to comment on my attire. I know modesty is seen as provincial, since the world is run by fucking Landfallers who live naked in a swamp, or something like that. I notice Sorivel takes off his boxers and very quickly slides into the pool, though. I wonder how long it took him to get comfortable doing even that.

I relax once I’m into the water, though – it’s wonderfully warm, and between the surface and the steam, I don’t feel too exposed.

Four people make the small pool almost cramped - we can sit on the submerged ledge without touching each other, but just barely. Sorivel is so tall the water doesn’t even reach his shoulders, while Althea, after some cursing, ends up crouching on the ledge, she’s too short to sit while keeping her nose above water.

What a waste. I finally get to bathe with Althea, and we’re in a sad mood. Still, the warm water does wonders for my knotted muscles after the day’s action, and I do manage to get a glimpse of Althea’s breasts while she shifts to get into a comfortable position. I wonder if she’s looking at me in the same way.

“What’s the deal with Sareas?” Althea blurts out, when she finally settles in the right position. “That was just pointless assholery.”

“Sareas is… very keen on rules and procedures,” Kaelich says. I finally get a good look at all xir tattoos - xe has tons of them, most brightly colored, going down xir collarbone, arms, and chest. I wonder why not stick to the face, when I realize they’d be perfectly visible, if we were in Landfall.

“Sareas thinks the law is a stick to beat people with,” Sorivel says, poison in his voice. “Especially mages. He hates them.”

Althea scoffs. “Unlike you?”

I’d expect an argument to erupt, but I learned that most people assume there’s some kind of truce while soaking in hot water. Maybe it’s just harder to summon the will to argue, while naked and relaxed.

“I don’t hate mages,” Sorivel sounds honestly surprised. “I think the choice of using magic is sinful. Did that kid look like he had any choice?”

He’s keeping his arm on the pool’s edge, and his silver tattoos glint in the neon light. They’re ugly silver circles, unevenly drawn. Why don’t they make them a little nicer? They would work the same. It does seem…well, unnecessarily cruel.

“I had a choice. I still chose magic.” Althea points out.

“And for that, you’re a sinner,” Sorivel says, sounding weary. “So are Kaelich and Cerical, in other ways. So am I. What else do you want me to say?”

Althea opens her mouth, but then closes it, looking mollified.

“You’re really a faithful one,” she says, and it sounds like an insult and a compliment at once. “It’s not just a way to be an asshole. Sorry, I… misjudged you a bit on that.”

Without our uniforms and her robes, without our silver and her magic, it’s easier to see her as one of us, just a normal girl. With cute dimples, and cheeks flustered by the hot water. Her hair is wet, too, with loose strands curling on her bare shoulders. I get the irrational urge to run my hand through it, and fix those loose strands. And running my fingers on her delicate collarbone….

Lady of Light, I should really focus on something that is not her body.

“Thanks, I guess,” Sorivel’s saying. “I… can’t fault you too much. I wish I didn’t know how some Students of the Officers behave. But I try to be better than that, Althea.”

Something changes between them. Sorivel shoulders relax a bit, Althea’s mouth softens.

I get irrationally jealous, and feel the stupid impulse to say something nice to her, too.

“Your magic protected me today,” I say, a little bit too earnestly. “Possibly saved my life. Thanks.”

She shrugs, but there’s a small smile on her face after that. “Definitely not your life. Even with the Else instability, that attack was barely above level one. Your armor would have protected you.”

“What about the voices the boy heard?” Kaelich asks. “You seemed worried about those.”

Althea’s usually very quick with answers, but she frowns, and Sorivel speaks before she does.

“Speak not of the evils beyond the Veil,” he says, solemn, “for they always listen.”

I expect Althea to scoff or roll her eyes, but she doesn’t. And I remember the word she’s scribbled with light - demons.

“Vakris had attracted… something from the deep Else,” she says, careful, like a lawyer picking every word exactly. “That’s very strange. It usually happens only with very powerful magic. I caught a glimpse of the things he attracted, and… it’s good that we arrived in time. Let’s just say that.”

“So it was a demon,” I say, ignoring Sorivel’s flinch. “Was it really talking to the boy?”

This is one of those moments where I’m painfully aware of my incomplete training. In my final year of Intelligence School, I’d have studied everything we know about demons. But I never got there, and in basic training, we were told frustratingly little about those creatures - pretty much only how to kill them.

The topic makes me nervous, a deep instinct, ingrained by my childhood. I’ve never seen a Demonfall. But my parents, and everyone who lived through the Zelenian revolt, spoke of demons in terrified whispers.

“Look, I don’t want to sound like the scripture-mumbler there,” Althea says, splashing a little water in Sorivel’s direction. “But there are things in the Else better not spoken about. I asked those questions only because the interrogation room is warded and full of silver. But that oaf Sareas stopped me, so now someone will have to ask them in less safe conditions.”

This leaves me open-mouthed. Althea looks very comfortable about magic, to the point it’s uncomfortable for everyone else. I didn’t expect superstition from her.

Or is it superstition? For all my childhood worries, I thought don’t speak of the evils beyond was like throw a pinch of sand behind you to ward off the evil eye, just one more piece of folk advice. Is it really dangerous to talk about demons? I make a mental note to inquire further. I’ll wear a ton of silver, if necessary, but I have to ask Althea more about it.

The silence is broken by Kaelich. “Well, let’s change topic, then!” Xe says, sounding once again xir cheerful, carefree self. Vakris’ interrogation had put xem in a gloom, but bad mood doesn’t stick to Kaelich.

“We did pretty well for our first engagement as a team!” Xe says, “you were amazing, Ceri. And Althea, I’m so happy we got you and not some useless lump like Jaeleri. I mean, I’m sorry that Vakris will get re-ed, but today we saved him, and probably everyone in his city block. That’s what I signed up for.”

“I thought you signed up because no one else wanted you,” Sorivel says. “And the pay is pretty good, base freeze-ass or not.”

“Yeah, there’s that,” Kaelich admits with a shrug. “My aptitude tests in high school basically said fuck off, you’re useless, and I don’t have enough discipline for professional athletics or gaming, which are the only things I’m good-ish at. But it’s not just that. A girl in my high school went nova while I was in third year. They evacuated the building, but she still blew up three classrooms and hurt a dozen people. And well, she died,” Xe stops, and xir smile fades a bit. “I knew her.”

A somberness falls over me. I didn’t even think about that – the disaster we averted, and the lives we saved. I care deeply about my duty, but as something abstract. I care about the war on magic, and the slow unraveling of the world. We didn’t achieve anything meaningful on that count, today.

But we did save a boy’s life, even if he’ll have to spend one or two years in reeducation. And we saved anyone else who’d have been killed in the magical explosion.

Why do those things matter so little to me? Why can’t I be more like Kaelich? Is something wrong with me?

But I decide I can simply be happy that we did a good job and that we survived. So I close my eyes, and let myself sink lower in the hot pool while my teammates keep chattering.

***