“Carla Hernan. Malvoro City Chief of Police.”

A guard stationed at the entrance pressed a device against the policewoman’s palm. She felt a slight buzz across her hand, and then the device blinked green.

“What’s your business at Asphodel, Mrs. Hernan?” the guard asked her.

She glanced backwards and motioned for the little boy behind her to come out. The nine-year-old timidly shuffled sideways into the guard’s view.

“He was the sole survivor of the murder-suicide at Audrey Fallasia’s orphanage.”

The guard knelt down in front of the blanket-wrapped child. “What’s your name, little one?”

“Caleb. Caleb Galland,” he replied.

Another guard motioned for Carla to come closer and whispered something into her ear. Her eyes went wide and she staggered back, shocked.

“He’s just a child! Everyone who knew him said that he was quiet and a little distant, but he wouldn’t do something like this!” she screamed.

Caleb hung his head low. He expected to be blamed for the murders as the sole survivor. After all, no one knew about his hiding place—not even Ms. Fallasia herself. He compared it to being the only one present in a room with a broken vase, even if he was nowhere near the object when it was shattered.

The guard who accused him kept a neutral expression. “Just making sure,” he muttered, and turned away.

The one knelt down before him frowned and ruffled the boy’s hair. “You’ll receive a lot of accusations like this, little one. I know it’s not right to blame a child like you, but…you can’t control what people think of you. Just keep calm, Caleb. Prove them wrong by doing the best you can.”

Caleb stared into the guard’s warm pink eyes, and then to her nametag, which read ‘Victoria Cael’. She had the Gift of healing others—which was probably why Caleb felt extremely comfortable in her presence.

“I have a daughter two years younger than you. Her name is Seriyah. I’m sure that she’d love to be your friend.”

Caleb nodded with a smile. Carla wiped tears from her face and leaned down to kiss his forehead. “This is where we part ways, Callie,” she whispered. “Be good.”

The two of them shared a hug before Carla returned to the cruiser. Victoria stood behind him as they watched the car drive away. After it disappeared, she guided Caleb into the iron gate. A large stone plaque greeted them as they entered—Asphodel, the City of Magic.

“We’ll bring you to our headquarters first for an interrogation. Don’t worry, Caleb, we’re only following protocol. It’s just a few questions.”

***

“I’m just going to ask you a few questions.”

Caleb sat in the newly-cleaned interrogation room, which had been efficiently scoured by Paris, Seriyah, and Marcus. This time, though, he was the one sitting in the iron chair behind the glass wall.

He stared at his reflection. An Inhibitor was strapped to his right thigh, rendering his Gift completely inactive. This was one of the rare times that he saw his natural hazel eyes.

Marcus and Paris were on his side of the room, while Seriyah sat in the interrogator’s chair. She fidgeted anxiously with a bottle of water, freezing and unfreezing its contents. Caleb’s stomach turned, feeling disoriented with seeing his friends’ eye colors all ‘wrong’.

“I’m sure you still remember how our Gifts work, even if you temporarily don’t have yours,” Paris said.

Caleb nodded. Marcus’s ability to influence emotions and Paris’s sharp vision were extremely useful for questioning. If he wasn’t careful, he could accidentally land himself in hot water.

“I want you to relax yourself as much as you can—it’ll help me regulate your emotions more,” Marcus said. “If you feel too uncomfortable, close your eyes for at least three seconds.”

Caleb breathed in deeply, the cold and dry air of the room filling his lungs. He let himself sink into the chair as much as he could, and focused on the glass that Seriyah was playing with.

He felt Marcus’s gaze linger on him, and his eyes started to heat up. He blinked, and a tear slowly rolled down his cheek.

Paris leaned in close. “Let’s start with the question itself—did you kill Holly Rivera?”

Caleb’s shoulder started to shake as he lurched forward and let out a loud cry. He watched tears fall onto the concrete floor.

“No…I didn’t do it…” he sobbed, his lower lip quivering. “I swear on my life…I just did what I usually do when questioning the Hexed…”

Paris clicked her tongue. “Let’s try something else.”

Immediately, Caleb straightened up and felt an intense euphoria throughout his body. He laughed uncontrollably until his cheeks were sore. After a while, he calmed down, but a big smile was plastered on his face.

“Do you know what happened to Holly Rivera?” Paris tried again.

“I don’t know!” Caleb cackled. “All I know is that watching her hair straighten up was fucking hilarious! Like a fucking porcupine! It was so difficult holding my laughter while questioning her—“

“Shut up,” Paris said. She turned to Marcus with a grimace. “Is he actually thinking that?”

Marcus shook his head. “He’s delirious, not happy. He’s speaking thoughts from the back of his mind. I hoped that he’d somehow spill something out that he’s keeping hidden there.”

“What else can you use?” Paris asked, wincing at the sound of Caleb’s manic laughter.

“Fear.”

“Make it quick, then. I can’t trust anything I see if you’re manipulating his feelings.”

Marcus hesitated a little, but soon returned his focus on Caleb. The latter’s smile faded and his eyes slowly widened. Paris noticed Seriyah watching them worriedly, and gave her a reassuring smile. Caleb slouched, his body shivering.

Paris gripped Caleb’s shoulder. “You’re the prime suspect in this case, Caleb Galland. We believe that the murder occurred in this very room. There’s a lot that still doesn’t make sense to us, which is why I need answers from you.”

Caleb tried his best to look defiant, but his voice shook as he spoke. “Or else what?”

“Or else we’ll imprison you without a proper trial. All of us will leave you be, and you will rot in jail.”

Paris didn’t think her exaggeration was convincing, but apparently it worked. Caleb cowered in her presence, breathing heavily.

“I would never kill anyone…” he whimpered. “I have never hurt anyone in my life. I wasn’t the one who killed my family at the orphanage…please believe me…”

Paris pinched the bridge of his nose. “This isn’t working. Let him come back now, Marcus.”

Marcus removed his mental grip, and Caleb sunk into his chair. “How do you feel, Caleb?” Marcus asked.

Caleb smiled weakly. “Exhausted. My stomach is killing me.”

“Just hold on a little longer,” Marcus said. “Shit, I think I somehow used too much. He’s not supposed to be like…that.”

Caleb groaned as his head started to spin. Marcus unlocked his shackles, allowing Caleb to grip the sides of the chair for support.

“Let him rest! He can’t give you anything in this state!” Seriyah yelled through the microphone. Her hand tightened around the glass, and coated it with a fine layer of frost.

“Caleb,” Paris hesitated. “Just tell us. Did you do it or not?”

Caleb strained his neck to look at her, but his half-lidded eyes failed to keep contact. “I didn’t…”

“It’s no use. Help me get him up, Marcus,” Paris said.

The two of them hooked Caleb’s arms around their shoulders and lifted him up. Seriyah turned off the partition, allowing the three of them to return to her. Marcus let Caleb down on the chair, before removing his own jacket and using it to wipe the latter’s sweat off.

“Water, give him water,” Marcus told her.

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

She looked at the frozen glass in her hand. Taking a deep breath, she allowed it to melt back into its liquid state. She placed it against Caleb’s lips, and helped him take slow gulps of water.

Marcus placed his hands on the back of his neck and paced around the room. “Oh, man, did I go too far? This has never happened before, I usually have good control over my Gift—”

Seriyah placed her hand on his shoulder, and he shuddered as her still-frosty palm touched his skin. “It’s okay. You were both in the heat of the moment—maybe you lost control but didn’t realize,” she consoled.

“You two, come here,” Paris said. “Take a look at this.”

She unstrapped the Inhibitor on Caleb’s thigh, and held it up. Instead of emitting a green light, which meant it was working, its light was blinking red.

“It’s broken,” Marcus breathed. “But I made sure that—”

“Yeah, I know, I watched you put it on,” Paris replied. “Might be faulty. It doesn’t matter though, Caleb’s Gift shouldn’t directly affect us in any way, unless he’s hiding something from us.”

“He wouldn’t,” Seriyah mumbled, eyeing the half-conscious Caleb slumped in the chair.

“I don’t feel anything,” Marcus said.

Paris looked at her hands and tucked her hair behind her ears. “Neither do I. I guess he isn’t.”

“You can keep interrogating him, but only after he’s back to normal,” Seriyah told them. “A mentally-overloaded suspect isn’t going to give you anything.”

“You’re right. Should we bring him to his apartment?” Marcus suggested.

Seriyah glanced behind her. “Or we can take him to my mother. She’s most likely having dinner in the guard’s cafeteria. Caleb’s injury isn’t physical, anyway, so she shouldn’t have any trouble healing him.”

Marcus nodded. “Let’s take him to Mr. Cael, then.”

As Seriyah had said, they found Victoria Cael in the guard’s cafeteria. The dark-skinned and braided woman was laughing amongst her colleagues—in the 30 years that she served Asphodel, she was always the happy pill of Internal Security. Seriyah smiled smugly and slightly froze the juice her mother was drinking to get her attention.

“Goodness!” Victoria exclaimed, coughing. “Why is there ice here…is that you, Seriyah?”

Seriyah smiled as she approached. “Good evening, Mom.”

Victoria turned to her and grinned. “Can’t you just call my name out, like a normal person?”

“We’re not normal people,” Seriyah chuckled.

“I guess we aren’t,” her mother replied. “So, what brings you here?”

She stepped aside, allowing Victor to see Caleb draped on Marcus’s back. Paris stood beside them, one hand on Caleb’s bicep and the other holding the broken Inhibitor. All the guards in the room were staring at them now, some of them whispering amongst themselves.

“Good heavens, Is that Galland? What happened to him?” Victoria asked.

Marcus grunted as he adjusted his position. “We interrogated him earlier, concerning Holly Rivera’s murder. The good news is that we don’t think we did it…for now. The bad news is that somehow my Gift left him mentally drained.”

“That’s odd. I’ve seen your progress ever since you joined the Academy, you’ve never lost control. Did you feel something different?”

“No, I didn’t. That’s the strange part. It was like I suddenly became Hexed.”

“Let’s figure that out later,” Victoria said. She stood up and grabbed Caleb off of Marcus’s back. “You should turn in that faulty Inhibitor as well.”

Paris nodded and ran out the room carrying the device. Victoria brushed her hand across Caleb’s drenched face and hair.

“Thankfully, it’s nothing serious, just exhaustion.”

Seriyah breathed a sigh of relief. “You can heal him, right?”

Victoria raised an eyebrow. “Do you know who you’re talking to, young lady?”

Her daughter grinned. “Of course. Renowned security officer and current Headmaster of Arcanus Academy. The most beautiful woman in Asphodel, too.”

The woman laughed. “Everyday I thank the Lord that Melania Mosse didn’t have a daughter.” She removed her hand from Caleb’s forehead. “He should be back to normal very soon. Just need a tiny bit of rest. I suggest that he doesn’t do any strenuous work for the time being, including using his Gift too much.”

Caleb groaned as his eyes fluttered open. “Mrs. Cael?”

“I thought I told you to call me Auntie,” Victoria teased. “Good morning, Callie.”

She helped him up and let him steady his feet. Seriyah ran up and hugged him tight. Marcus stood awkwardly a few feet away, tapping his foot on the floor.

“It wasn’t you, Marcus. It’s okay,” Caleb reassured him.

Marcus hesitated for a second before finally joining the group hug. Victoria watched the children with a grin on her face.

“See this, everyone! This is the camaraderie that Internal Security needs!”

Seriyah buried her face in Marcus’s shoulder as the guards in the cafeteria cheered, some standing up to form their own group hugs. Caleb smiled and squeezed his friends’ shoulders, happy that they trusted him once more.

The sappy atmosphere in the cafeteria was suddenly pushed out by the roar of a siren and a red light flooding the room. Everyone in the room stopped and looked around, with multiple hands poised over holsters.

The door flung open and Paris ran in, flanked by two other guards. She leaned on the wall for support and her wild eyes darted across the room, grabbing the attention of every occupant.

“Hesper Asche has escaped! Lock down the area and find him!” she screamed.

Every guard in the cafeteria immediately sprang into action, forming surprisingly orderly lines running out of the room. Victoria kissed Seriyah on the forehead before joining her colleagues.

“What do they mean, he escaped? How?” Seriyah gasped.

“Someone let him out. That’s the only explanation I could think of,” Marcus said.

Caleb sat on a bench, tangling his fingers in his hair. “It’s just happening one after another, none of us can even breathe….”

Seriyah turned to him. “Something like this hasn’t happened since Mrs. Mosse stepped down as Head of Security. I hope Adrian can handle all this…”

“His dad won’t let him deal with it by himself, don’t worry. I trust them both.”

Seriyah frowned. “If only we still had President Sanders—“

“That man left my father to die,” Marcus retorted. “President Aragon isn’t any better, but there’s nothing we can do about it. Let’s just help our comrades finally catch this asshole.”

Marcus stormed out of the room, and one of the officers handed him a rifle. Caleb stood up and rolled his shoulders.

“He’s right. It’s no use hoping for him to step up. Let’s do what we can ourselves.”

Seriyah nodded and the two of them ran into the hallway. The siren boomed over their heads, and officers barked orders over the comms. Guards and Hex Hunters rushed past them in full gear, carrying various weapons and devices. Caleb jumped aside to avoid a cart full of Inhibitors.

“Let go up to the main security room,” Seriyah said. “Maybe you can see something from the cameras.”

Caleb gave her a nod and they raced up the stairs, brushing past the swarm of leather-clad officers. Seriyah stopped and grabbed the wrist of a guard that passed by.

“Stay safe, please.”

Marcus patted the back of her hand. “Of course. You two as well.”

Seriyah and Caleb reached the security room after a minute. When they entered, they immediately saw Paris and a squad of guards huddled in front of a screen. Caleb stepped closer and noticed the familiar wheelchair and grayish-blond hair in the center of the group, furiously clicking the keyboard in front of him.

“Mr. Mosse, have you found something?” one of the guards asked.

Sebastian grumbled. “This incident happened more than fifteen minutes ago. Why wasn’t Adrian—or any guard even—informed immediately?”

“We don’t know, sir. The guards who found out only came down once it was their shift, and they found the interrogation room open and the guards all dead.”

“Do we have a suspect?”

“We think Elias Nachtlicht may still be roaming around Asphodel. Sir Adrian told us to look for him, but so far he hasn’t been found.”

Sebastian grumbled. “That son of a bitch. Keep looking. Go back to half an hour ago. Check every camera,” he ordered. “I’ll talk to the President in my office. Hopefully this will wake him up.”

He turned his wheelchair around and spotted Caleb and Seriyah standing in a corner of the room. “There you are, Galland. Go help the guys figure out what in the world happened down there. Cael, you’ll stand guard.”

“Yes, sir,” they both said at the same time.

Caleb approached the monitor as Paris scrolled through security footage. He grimaced at the sight of fallen guards. It wasn’t just a Hex Hunter squad this time—it was at least twenty members of Internal Security who were stationed in the lower level.

“Oh my God,” one of the guards breathed.

“How long is their shift again?” Caleb asked.

“Five hours,” Paris replied. “They could’ve been dead for that long.”

Paris kept looking, but all they saw were more frames of the aftermath. They went back half an hour, one, one-and-a-half, two, two-and-a-half…

“Stop,” Caleb suddenly said, placing his hand over Paris’s.

“What is it?” she asked.

The guards all had confused expressions. To them, they were still looking at bodies scattered on the concrete. They didn’t see anything different.

Caleb reached out and traced a line on the monitor. “I can see a blue streak. There's Arcanum here.”

“It could’ve belonged to the dead guards,” Paris said.

“No, it’s not coming from them. Go back two minutes.”

Paris did, and Caleb saw the line of blue glow brighter. “Keep going. You’ll see it soon.”

The guards watched intently as Paris slowly scrolled. And then, they saw it. At the top of the screen, barely in the frame, was a long blade.

“There’s our guy,” Caleb said.

A bead of sweat rolled down Paris’s nose as she kept going. The guards gasped as the ten-inch metal object appeared in view, followed by a hand and the back of a guard’s uniform.

“It’s got to be Elias,” a guard gasped.

Caleb shook his head. “No, it’s not. Elias had a metal right arm. Paris, zoom in and keep going backwards.”

The image of the culprit was enlarged, allowing everyone to see the human arm gripping the hilt. The heartbeat of everyone in the room was almost audible as they all held their breaths, watching the culprit’s back gradually come into frame.

Paris placed her free hand over her mouth. “No way.”

She suddenly rewound the footage by a minute. Nobody said anything, as none of them could even process what they were seeing. There was an eerie silence in the room as Paris played the video.

What they saw in the footage shook them all to the core. They heard a bang as one of the guards shot the culprit in the shoulder, and a gasp as the same guard was pierced through the stomach by the long blade. The man’s facial features were partly obscured by the angle and his dark blond hair, but there was no mistaking him. The sight of his bullet wound slowly closing up only further proved his identity.

It was Adrian Mosse.