Norok lingered over the bathroom sink. He watched the water pool around the bottom of the basin, pouring down the drain slowly. He closed his eyes, listening to the sound of his own frantic breathing echoing off the walls.

When did I become scared? Norok thought distantly. Images of Cowell’s smirking face flashed through his mind, the feeling of Will’s gun now a throbbing bruise on his temple. Daimona was eager to find Irina, darting out of their dormitory to find the blade-wielding blonde without so much as a good morning to her brother. But the thought of the bloodthirsty woman braided Norok’s stomach in knots. Here, Daimona fit in just fine. Another unstoppable force joining the rest of her kind. But where did that leave Norok?

Enough. Norok rose to face his reflection. The pink-haired reflection staring back at him was becoming less and less recognizable, but the warm voice in his head remained just as steady as it had always been. You’re wasting time talking yourself in circles.

“It’s not that easy,” Norok muttered, wrapping his fingers around the edges of the sink. “There’s too many of them. It would be impossible to kill them all.”

So don’t. You don’t need to. Remember what Mona said?

“She doesn’t remember it like we do.”

But you still trust her judgment.

“I guess,” Norok sighed. “There’s just too many variables in motion here. Everything’s out of my control.”

What’s new? You couldn’t control anything before either. Norok felt every bone in his body grow cold as the words passed through his mind. His eyes searched his reflection’s desperately, his mouth pulled into a tight frown. If you can’t leave this place, then use it to get what you want. It’s that simple, Norok.

Norok pressed his forehead against the glass, watching his breath fog over the image peering back at him. “I know. You’re right.”

“Oh, morning Norok,” a voice awkwardly called from behind. Norok reeled back from the mirror, turning off the water before snapping his head to the doorway. There stood Kell, his uniform jacket slung casually over his shoulder and his scraggly brown hair sticking out in all directions.

With a yawn, he took up the sink next to Norok, running the faucet to splash water in his face. “I saw Daimona and Irina heading out to the yard, I kinda figured you’d be around.”

Norok judged Kell silently for a moment. So far, Norok had met a fairly small roster of militarized caricatures-- the mysterious sergeant, the stick-up-ass leader, the brutal foreigner-- but this chirpy, bright-eyed boy somehow fell into a different category entirely.

“...your sister, right?”

Norok blinked, finally registering Kell was still speaking to him. “What?”

“Daimona,” Kell said, straightening out his shoulders and pulling his arms through his jacket sleeves. “She’s your sister, right? I meant to ask yesterday, but we got so caught up with the sim chamber, and Irina, and well… It just slipped my mind.”

“What, the looks didn’t clue you in?” Norok snorted.

Kell chuckled, reaching up to tie his hair back. “I mean, I figured, obviously, but you never know. Families are weird… You never know who’s whose these days.”

Something somber in his tone resonated with Norok. “Do you have family?”

Kell pulled a wrinkled silver cap out of his pocket. His eyes met Norok’s in the mirror, flashing with hesitance for a moment, before he smiled softly. “Just my big brother.”

“Does he live here too?”

Kell shook his head, adjusting his cap. “No, he’s… I guess, technically you’d call us Blems.”

Norok narrowed his eyes cautiously at Kell. The word had been tossed around a few times back in the facility-- “Why don’t we throw some Blems at ‘em? Maybe that’ll shut them up,” or “Keep it up boy and we’ll feed you to the Blems.” They were shapeless monsters lurking just outside the barred windows of their cell, the enemies Norok expected to face upon their escape.

But here Kell was, a self-proclaimed Blem and easily the most pathetic of the bunch. It had Norok confused more than anything. Kell offered him a sheepish look.

“You were gonna hear it one way or another, so I thought I’d just come clean about it,” he said. “My parents, they came from the West. Left us just outside Fable after some ritual. I was just a kid, so I don’t remember much before Cowell found us, but Prim took care of us before that. He’s too stubborn for military life, though, so he’s off traveling the world, doing his own thing.”

“Huh,” Norok replied. He wasn’t sure what else to say. Kell wrung his hands, fidgeting in place as Norok weighed his options.

“I guess-- I just wanted you to know that I get it,” Kell said quietly.

“Get what?”

“Not being from here,” Kell replied, gesturing to the room with his hand. “I mean, there are good people here, people who understand, like Will. Will’s always looked out for me, and when it comes down to it, I owe him everything.”

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

Norok snorted, finding it hard to put Will and good in the same sentence, but Kell continued. He stepped forward, clapping a hand on to Norok’s shoulder. “But it’s not easy settling in when everyone’s telling you what to do and where to be. So, I get it, and I’m here for you.”

Norok blinked. This guy was weird. “Are you serious?”

“Wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t,” Kell chirped, patting Norok on the shoulder and whipping back around. “I’m off to join Will for Meditation-- You wanna join? We’ve got a couple hours before our briefing.”

“Uh, sure,” Norok replied, glancing in the mirror one last time before following Kell out the door.

…

“Magic comes in two parts,” Will lectured, pacing in front of Kell and Norok. They were sitting in the pillared atrium where Norok had first met Will, the cracked pillar still being tended to by a group of silver-wearing workers. Every so often, they would shoot Will and Norok a dirty look, causing Norok to grin deviously.

“Will, do we have to do this here? It’s really… Public…” Kell said, shifting uncomfortably as he pulled his legs under him.

“Discipline, Private Prodikor,” Will said resolutely. Then, more apologetically, “Someone rented out the sim chamber and both the training rooms today, so this is pretty much the best we’ve got.”

The passerbys whispered to one another, some giggling at the sight. Will cleared his throat and resumed. “Magic, at its core, is knowledge-- if you know how to do it, you can do it, no questions asked.”

He snapped his fingers, a small orb of fire lighting just above his index finger. “Fire magic is one of the most common. Most recruitment facilities will make sure you graduate having mastered fire magic before fully enlisting. However--”

The flame flickered out. Norok chuckled, elbowing Kell.

“Look, even you can do better than that.”

“Exactly!” Will said, then motioned for Kell. Slowly, Kell raised his left hand, snapping his fingers together and igniting a spark of his own. Where Will’s was a dimly lit match, Kell’s was a vibrant flame moving from blue to yellow to orange, a perfect symphony of fire.

“Kell’s naturally gifted when it comes to fire magic because his body is genetically geared towards it. The mana nerves in his body are essentially wired for it. This is what we call true magic, magic you were born to do.”

Kell extinguished the flame with a bashful look. “You really think so, Will?”

Will ignored him, circling his finger in the air and tracing the now-familiar blue portal. As he pulled his hand back, he revealed a golden bullet, tossing it to Norok.

“My true magic is pocket magic,” Will explained. “I can store a certain number of items inside these portals and pull them out at any time.”

“Like Sarah,” Kell said with a nod.

“You can keep people in there?” Norok asked, leaning forward with intrigue.

Will frowned, reaching down to take the bullet back. “No, Sarah’s a gun, obviously... There’s no air inside the pocket, so nothing living could live for long.”

“So you could suffocate people in there,” Norok replied. Now that was impressive.

Kell shook his head, leaning over to whisper, “No, Will’s pocket magic is probably too small. A lot of pocket magic comes with a cost-- He can keep things in there indefinitely, but in order to reduce the mana it takes, he basically has to vacuum-seal it closed, so nothing can be too big, really.”

Norok nodded, giving Will a pitying look. “Size isn’t everything, Will.”

Will scowled back. “In any case, that brings me to my next point-- performing general magic will always take up more of your mana than your true magic does, in the same way that doing a sport you haven’t trained for will need more effort than doing one that you have.”

“Mana is a harder thing to gauge,” Kell added, “And we’re still doing research on how to actually measure it. Right now, though, you basically just know when it’s out when you can’t use magic. Some people can go on for a while, and some people can’t.”

This was a concept Norok was familiar with. Most of the tests he had endured as a child was for this, seeing how long he could hold an object in the air, or keep a fellow subject down on their knees. In the beginning, he couldn’t hold it for more than a few minutes, but now he could do it for a week. It was the only useful thing being in that place really taught him.

“I definitely have a lot, then,” Norok said proudly.

“I’m sure you do,” Will huffed. “But that’s not really the point. Even if you do have massive mana reserves, that means nothing if you don’t know how to regain it.”

“I get it back when I sleep don’t I?”

“Right, resting recovers,” Will replied. “But sleep only recovers a small amount. Mindful resting, or meditation, will help you recover faster and exercise your nerves to pump and pull more.”

Will sat on the ground across from Kell and Norok. He crossed his legs, resting his forearms on his thighs. He curled his fingers inwards, forming fists, and held them atop one another in front of his chest. Kell mirrored him, and slowly, Norok moved to do the same.

This is dumb, he thought dully. But his breathing seemed to flow through him in this position. For years, he had forced himself to breathe through torture and agony, but now it seemed to happen without his choosing.

“Feel it move through your skull, Norok. Trace the movements through your spine, then summon it through your wrist. Let it move through you,” Will said softly.

For a moment, there was nothing, the usual stall that always led to his magic. That agonizing pause made Norok feel weak. Daimona could use her strength or her voice at her discretion, but Norok was always lying in wait for his own. It wasn’t fair. Everyone seemed to move faster, breathe faster--

A steady warmth pulsed from the back of his skull. It trickled down the curve of his spine, twisting around the shape of his arms and beading up his wrists. Norok tried to hold it there, but remembering Will’s word’s, he relaxed his grip and eased into the sensation.

The more it moved around Norok’s body, the more at peace he felt. His frustrations with his magic ebbed, falling to a dull rise to be better in the back of his mind. When he opened his eyes again, he felt refreshed, a light tingling in his fingertips left behind.

Will smiled. “Here, catch.”

He tossed the bullet towards Norok. Without raising his hand, Norok locked on to the object and suspended the bullet in the air before him. As he tilted his head, he watched the bullet spin slowly, all without him lifting a finger.

“There’s more I can teach you,” Will said. “About magic, its capabilities, and how to hone what you’ve got. Give me your patience, and I’ll give you all I’ve got.”

Norok reached for the bullet, plucking it from his magic’s grasp and feeling it roll in the palm of his hand. He raised his eyes to meet Will’s. “Tell me more.”