Stars were a beautiful thing, Megan thought. But these were a stranger to her. As was the city that stretched out below her for miles, torches glittering in the streets to light the way for the few people who still wandered them. Both had a quiet, reserved sort of beauty. But where was the beach? Where were the winos and surfer dudes, who all conspired to make her walk down the beach less than safe?

Megan sat on the roof of the Proficient dorms, staring down at the city, her mind occupied with strange thoughts. She’d gotten herself into this strange place, and put her negative thoughts to bed. For a year, she’d successfully quashed the persistent voice in her mind, effectively burying it. But the recent excitement centered around Samuel Bragg and her friends had dislodged the box it’d been hiding in, and now it was back.

I do not belong here. This is not my home.

Yes, it was back, she told herself with a sigh. She’d first heard the voice when her family had moved to the beach-side house in Florida. A quiet, creeping voice in the back of her mind, that only revealed itself at night. A smart girl, she’d told her parents about it straightaway. But they’d told her that it was simply jitters about a new house. She disagreed, thinking the house was haunted. But spirits didn’t exist, according to her parents.

So she’d wilfully ignored the voice, seeking out medication on the side to push the thoughts that it created far away, where they couldn’t cause harm. She’d heard scary stories about other people who heard things, and didn’t want that to happen to her. The medicine worked, quieting her mind and allowing her to focus on her high school life. Then her father passed away, and the voice came back. But a stronger dose got rid of it again.

Of course, she reflected to herself, the medication didn’t exist in Ahya. But it had taken almost an entire year for the voice to let itself be heard. It first spoke when she laid alone in the quiet, fuming over the events of her being made a Paragon Apprentice. She’d spent so long without the voice that she didn’t recognize it at first. The rage that had overcome her when she faced Samuel was its fault, she told herself. The voice was her responsibility to keep down, to keep under control.

“Megan, what are you doing out here?” Jordan’s voice came out of nowhere. Megan whirled around and saw Jordan’s hulking frame outlined by the moon. “It’s so late, you should be in bed.”

“Practice what you preach,” Megan said, feeling an unusual flare of annoyance. The voice again. She pushed it down. “Sorry. I’m just a little nervous, is all.”

“What’s on your mind?” The larger youth asked, making his way over. Even doubled over as he was, he clearly towered over her.

Megan hesitated a moment or two before answering, not sure how to put it. She definitely didn’t want Jordan, or the others, for that matter, to think that she was crazy. She loved them as much as she could any group of friends, and so their opinion of her mattered a great deal. But of all of them, Jordan was the most unassuming, polite, and trustworthy. If she couldn’t tell him, then who could she tell?

Nobody will believe you.

Shut up, she snapped at the voice. “I’m just not sure Samuel made the right choice.”

“Samuel?” Jordan queried, then nodded. “Ah, you mean Archmage Bragg.”

“Yes,” Megan sighed. She pulled her knees against her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “I don’t know what he expects of me, but there are more people, better qualified.”

“Maybe,” Jordan said, in his deep slow way. “Maybe he didn’t choose you because of what you can do now, but because of what you could do in the future, with the right knowledge.”

“Selecting me because of my potential instead of my abilities?” Megan replied. “That’s a fanciful thought. I’m awful in combat.”

“So was he,” Jordan replied at once.

Megan turned to look at him so fast she cricked her neck. Rubbing it with one hand, she frowned at him. “How can you possibly know that?”

“It’s common knowledge,” he said, staring at her without smiling. “Just as we all started from nowhere, terrible at fighting. The only thing you can do is learn.”

That was typical of Jordan, she thought with a wry smile. If you only focused on his appearance, the hulking frame and bulging muscles, you’d think he was a dumb brute. But in fact, under all that brawn, he had a kind, quiet, peaceful soul. Apart from all her friends, she knew the least about Jordan. She only knew that he belonged to the Ciayol family and was born in the Plains of Tyrman, among the famously vicious dragon-kin that ruled there. His kin was the wildest of Bora Bora’s descendants.

Jordan himself was eerily calm, however. He’d arrived in the College without trouble, to study magic, and fallen in with Megan and the others. To this day, he showed no sign of the dragon’s rage within. Whenever one of the other three encountered trouble or a bad mood, Jordan appeared to give them quiet words of encouragement. He didn’t have a boastful or proud bone in his body, Megan thought. He was a very calming presence to be around.

“I’m not sure there’s any advice that can help me this time,” Megan said morosely, idly picking at pieces of roofing that had come loose with the elements. “This isn’t a problem that can be fixed with words.”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Well, that’s because you haven’t told me what the real problem is,” Jordan said. “But when you’re ready to share, I’m ready to help, however I can.”

Strangely, Megan wasn’t surprised that he was aware of a deeper, more prominent problem. Equally strangely, his simple promise to help when needed was the most calming thing he could say, and she felt her nerves begin to settle at once. She let out a long, quiet sigh, and laid herself out flat on the roof, gazing up at the stars. They were beautiful, alright, she reflected. She wondered what their names were.

We do not belong here.

“Do you ever feel like you’re on a path someone else laid out for you?” She asked suddenly, her voice almost timid. “That you don’t have any control of your direction?”

“Sometimes,” he replied, also stretching out. “But is anyone really in control of their own destiny?”

“I didn’t say anything about destiny,” she said, feeling a slight flutter of fear.

“Not with your words.”

She let that comment slide, too wary of what it meant. Instead, she focused on the stars again. One of the greatest things about the night sky in Ahya was the clear view and fresh air. Even in a city the size of Milagre, there was no pollution to block out the stars, and she felt like she could see for miles. A dragon flew overhead, nearly invisible against the night sky because of its black scales. Probably off to find some late-night food, she thought. Dragons were about as common as horses in this world, and about the same size.

“What was your family like?” She asked Jordan. “Were you close?”

“Very,” Jordan said. “We were a little at odds because I wasn’t the strongest kid, but once I started hitting my growth spurt, and hit as hard as I was hit, things got better.”

That sounded like a barbaric way of living, she thought. But maybe that’s just how it was, growing up with siblings. She was an only child, so a lot of features about a big family were unknown to her. Her friends on Earth all had brothers and sisters and told stories about how they’d constantly get into fights. It was the same among her Ahyan friends. Michael in particular had grown up in a competitive household, though he was the oldest, and had been the example for his little siblings.

“Was it a big change, moving to Milagre?” She continued. “I imagine it’s a big difference from the plains.”

“Not really,” Jordan disagreed. “It’s flat land, no matter how you look at it. Just more people, and more walls.”

“You don’t have walls in your home?”

“They don’t last long, with the wind that sweeps those plains. No, we all live in dens.”

“Underground?”

“Kind of. We spend all our waking hours in the open plains or in the sky.”

Savage.

“What was it like growing up in Jyrok?” Jordan asked her. “I’ve never been that close to the ocean.”

Megan thought about her memories of the rocky coasts of Jyrok, a small smile coming to her face. Of course, the memories weren’t really hers, but she still felt as if she fondly remembered growing up there. “It was great. The Skywinds are still my favorite place.”

“The Skywinds?” Jordan asked. “Is that what you call the ocean drafts that hit the cliffside and fly up?”

“Yes,” she said with a smile. “They’re almost always there, and they’re really fun to ride.”

Jordan sat up, looking at her with some concern. “You ride them? Without wings?”

“Of course,” she laughed. “They’re perfectly safe. The wind is so strong that it supports you no matter what, and nobody ever falls.”

“But the winds aren’t always there?”

“Not always,” she admitted. “Whenever there’s a storm, the winds are redirected, to blow more straight. But otherwise, they’re there.”

“That still sounds, dangerous,” he said, laying back down. “What if the winds suddenly died?”

“It does happen,” she replied. “But there are big nets that catch fish flying up with the Skywinds, and they catch you.”

She remembered the time that the winds had died on her without warning. She’d smelled like fish for days after, and her friends had called her FishFace for another few months. Or so she remembered, though she now knew those memories to be false. Had Samuel drafted those memories only in her mind? If she went to Jyrok suddenly, would her friends really still be there, but not recognize her?

“Alright,” Jordan sat up abruptly, yanking her back to the moment. “That’s enough reminiscing. We should get back and get some rest.”

“I suppose,” she agreed reluctantly.

They made their way back through the top-floor balcony and to their separate rooms. The main benefit of becoming a Proficient was a private room, Megan thought. As a Journeyman, she’d been crammed into a room with three other students. That was how she’d met Rachel, the only one who didn’t drive her insane. It was even worse for the Apprentices, or mud-backs, she knew. They were put in rooms of twenty or more, long barrack-like dorms with only a tiny desk for their studies.

She closed the door behind her with a gentle touch and flopped down on her bed with yet another sigh. She was more tired than she realized, with the stress of the stares she’d gotten from other students. Even now, after a long explanation from Samuel, she still felt, deep down, that he’d picked the wrong person to be his Paragon Apprentice. But at least she’d get the chance to learn skills that other students didn’t, she thought.

More power.

Shut up, she thought again with a yawn.

You could use this to your advantage.

She ignored the voice. What the hell it was thinking, she couldn’t have guessed. What advantage could come from having more magick? It wasn’t like she planned on taking over the country with whatever Samuel taught her.

You could do it.

It was the last thing the voice said that she could remember. She rolled her eyes, and finally let them drop. Just shut up, she told it for the third time. I didn’t let you get away with saying anything on Earth, and there’s no way in hell I’m listening to you here. So just shut up, and let me sleep. The voice faded away, and she smiled into her pillow, falling asleep.