My head pounded. My body felt numb. Everything seemed to slow down around me, twisting and turning like the blur of battle in shifting vision.

I was lying on a metal floor, I realized after my tactile sense returned. The cold surface barely registered through my pulsing haze. I forced open my heavy eyes and dragged them around the still-spinning room. I was in a cell, or some sort of cage from the look of it. I couldn’t really tell through the fog. But with the thick metal bars and the low, nearly claustrophobic ceiling, I thought it was a good guess.

Memories rose up in my head. My eyelids fluttered uselessly, trying to get my own mind to focus. I saw images of a fight—a long, gleaming sword slicing the air into pieces. I saw a purple flame burning on nothing. I saw blackness. Shaking my head, it made some sense. The images were familiar—I knew that much from the incessant recognition pounding in my head, but they were also just too far out of reach for me to grasp at what they were.

Pain washed over me again. I tilted my head back, resting it once again on the cold metal wall behind me. I forced my eyes closed and focused on the pain—on pushing it away. My breathing slowed; the spinning in my head calmed. The fog started to part, letting me see straight into the darkness behind it. But by then, it was already too late, and I was drifting away, whether I liked it or not.

Lost in a swirling blackness, I just sat there for a time. I didn’t know how long, but it didn’t really matter. I could’ve been sitting there for minutes or I could’ve been sitting there for days. It was all the same to my aching limbs. My body sat there helpless, relishing in what little relief it could find up until I heard a loud metal clang split the room as though a door had just slammed shut. I jerked my head up and snapped my eyes open, feeling a rush of blood to my brain.

My vision was still blurry as I twisted in dismay, but the fog cleared quickly. With another pulse of pain, a wave of nausea rushed up, accompanied by strict, unbridled annoyance that I knew I hadn’t created. I squinted for a second, trying to look inward, but with another pulse of pain, it was lost again.

“Huh,” a voice grunted, making me lift my head. “Looks like they finally found me a cellmate.” The voice was low and grumpy, but also somehow amused. It sounded distinctly feminine in a way purely noticeable by the twinge of sound in my ears. And as I blinked away the fog, my thoughts were only further confirmed.

Standing there with her arms folded in front of the now-closed metal door of the cell, was a woman. She was tall, probably at least half a head taller than my current body, and she had short but flowing chestnut hair. She stared at me with narrow eyes, looking me up and down. I could see the glower hiding on her face and the pointed suspicion in her eyes as if she couldn’t believe I existed at all. After a few seconds, she flashed me a sly grin.

“You look like shit.”

I angled my eyes at the woman, barely able to glare before just resting my head back against the wall. I wanted to respond, but I was overcome. The fatigue plagued my bones with superfluous intensity, twitching and wailing all over my muscles as if to drag out every signal of pain my body could produce.

A breath fell from my lips, letting my sore muscles relax. My head was throbbing, and as my body soon reminded me, I had a cut in my shoulder. I winced, trying to control the next intake of air that stung my lungs. But still, I caught a hitch in my throat, stopping me dead for a moment before I slumped further back and focused harder on the air. I had to steady my breathing.

As with all other instances of complete and utter defeat, I knew what to do. If I could clear my mind, everything would be a lot easier to deal with. I just had to keep my breath steady and my body as relaxed as possible.

In… and out.

“You’re just gonna ignore me then?”

The woman’s tired voice interrupted my thoughts, causing me to take a sharp breath. The warm, dry air of the cell cracked against my lungs as I pushed it out. I swallowed hard and rubbed my desert of a throat, praying to the world that I wouldn’t start coughing. I snapped open my eyes to glare, but after staring me in the face for a few seconds, she sat down with a huff.

I took that as a good sign and let my eyes droop again. After a while, I was taking in coordinated breaths and I could focus on my body. The painful numbness was starting to fade. The soreness got worse, but it was easier to deal with. I just had to keep breathing.

In… and out.

The heavy curtains of my eyelids forced the scene around me into black. And before I knew it, my body had gone limp and I had drifted away into the long, lovely abyss.

“What is this—“

“Where am—“

“I thought I died—“

I picked up on a muffled sound. Someone talking. But they kept cutting off. The sound felt light, like a bird’s song on the breeze. But I couldn’t feel it on my ears. In fact, I couldn’t feel my ears—I couldn’t feel anything at all. Not my eyes, my mouth, my hands, or any other part of my body. I just drifted about in seeming nothingness, existing almost like a bare soul in a void.

“Please…”

The voice didn’t cut off, this time only trailing off into an incomprehensible softness.

“Please…”

Something flashed in my vision. A white spark of light. My vision came rushing back.

“Please…”

The soft words repeated again, still not getting further than the one word.

“Please…”

Another flash of light split my vision. A small, white spark whipped its way through the darkness like a shooting star before it was gone. No words at all followed the light this time.

Another spark. The white light streaked through black, glowing for longer than before. The spark hit… something in the dark; its light vanished. I blinked, hoping with a foreign sense of desperation that the little light would come back.

Then it flared again. My eyes lit up with glee and my mind filled with joy that I shouldn’t have been able to produce.

There, right in front of my eyes and revealing its innocent beauty, was a small white flame waving in a nonexistent wind. My eyes widened, taking in as much of the little light as they possibly could. It danced and drifted, wavering in the nothingness it had sprung from.

And then it burned out.

A sharp bolt of pain struck right in the center of my mind and an unfamiliar sense of longing grew within me. The last remnants of light faded quietly into the dark before leaving me drifting. Suddenly, impossibly alone.

I woke up unbearably slow; the seconds felt like decades as I lifted my head. My eyelids dragged open and I immediately winced, stung by sudden influx of light.

I saw the same cell, the same metal bars, and the same woman from before. She was sitting on the floor now, her plated boots scraping it with every tiny movement. And she was staring at something outside of the cell with intent flashing on her irises. She squinted harder, the lines at the corners of her eyes becoming sharp enough to cut through steel. She hadn’t even noticed that I’d woken up.

I stopped looking at her by closing my eyes and steadying my breaths. The fog of sleep cleared, letting me take stock of my body. And as soon as I did, I snapped my eyes right back open, blinking in complete and utter disbelief. As I felt my body, moving and flexing each individual muscle, I found myself feeling much better than before. Most of the pain was gone, a white-hot warmth in its wake.

My head wasn’t pounding.

My shoulder didn’t sting.

My mind wasn’t foggy.

Everything inside of me just felt… better. My muscles flexed with ease, twitching with more power than I’d felt in this body before. The ghost of a smile broke against my tired expression. Given time, I would’ve even been able to fight again. I smiled. Then, my stomach rumbled, responding to my thoughts and I winced instead.

“Awake again?” the woman asked, her voice lilting to my ears. I pried my eyes wide to look at her.

Sitting there, she had her knees up and her metal boots planted firmly on the floor. Her arms were draped over her knees—draped over the dark blue cloth that covered her body—and she wasn’t looking at me. She was still staring to the left, at whatever was so interesting outside of the cell. I hardened my gaze, glaring directly at her.

“Yeah,” I mumbled, my voice scrappy and hoarse.

She nodded, an edge entering her expression with a curl of her lips. “So I can ask you questions now?”

I grunted, pushing myself up into a more comfortable position. My glare softened, becoming more of a squint, and I shook my head. “Sure, I guess.”

My voice was unconvincing as it echoed off the metal walls of the cell, but I really couldn’t help it. I didn’t know where I was. I didn’t know who she was. And I was still pulling myself out of the painful, foggy abyss. Letting her ask me a few questions couldn’t have been that bad.

She grinned. Her eyes didn’t move. “So why are you here?”

I tilted my gaze upward, my lips parting in confusion. “I… I’m not sure.”

“Me neither,” she scoffed, her grin tilting into a smirk. “But what I meant was, why do they want you?”

I furrowed my brow. “Excuse me?”

“Let me rephrase,” she said, an edge entering at the corner of her voice. “Why are you useful to them?” Her gaze hardened but still avoided mine, and she rolled her wrist as if that had cleared everything up.

It hadn’t.

“What?”

Her smirk drooped. She leaned further forward, pushing her boots against the metal and sending the soft, tinny scraping noises echoing off the walls. “What are your powers? What is your soul most attuned to?” I shook my head. She stifled a grumble building in her throat. “Why did they take you here instead of killing you?”

“I don’t know what you’re asking,” I said, raising my voice. A thundering storm formed from the remnants of my fog and my nostrils flared out. I wasn’t used to people being disrespectful to me. “What are you even looking at?”

The sly grin that had wormed its way onto her face in tandem with my annoyance left as quickly as it had come. She pointed outside of the cell. Her eyebrows dropped and her lips pressed together, but she held her tongue. I only stared at her for a few seconds longer before dragging my gaze across to look through the rusty metal bars. I blinked when my eyes met the sight.

I swallowed, noting the lump in my throat, and a vague scraping sound echoed on the edge of my skull.

There, in the cell next to ours and draped in black robes, was a young girl. My stomach rolled as I realized she couldn’t have been older than eighteen. Her pale body was sprawled on the ground and her black hair was disheveled, covering a large part of the metal floor. Adorning her fitting black robe were sets of thin, silver strips that twitched and ripped like scars. I swallowed again, still not getting the dry cotton down. Then, as my eyes dropped lower, staring at her impossibly pale skin, a bitter taste fell on my tongue. Growing directly out of her skin were shaped black scales. Her skin looked like it had been cursed, infected with a parasitic monster.

But that wasn’t even the strangest part.

A shiver raced down my spine as I lifted my gaze up. There, draped over her back and extruding directly from her spine were grey, bony wings that sent shots of both wonder and terror straight to my soul.

I shuddered again and pulled my head backward to avert my eyes. The soft, idle scraping grew louder in my ears, pulling at fearful memories I’d long since pushed down.

My world went black and for a moment, I didn’t know why. Then, as I grew aware of my body again, I twisted my neck and pried my eyelids open. The sunlight glinting off the metal ground calmed me, even while stabbing me in the eye. At least it wasn’t her.

“Who is…?” I asked, trying to suppress another shudder. The words slipped away through my teeth.

My cellmate shivered, taking a deep breath that was way more ragged than it should’ve been. She adjusted her position, sending a soft scrape of metal bouncing through the cell.

“I don’t know,” she said bluntly. “She’s been here for longer than I have and I’ve never even seen her awake.”

I nodded, the blank cloth of the girl’s robes flashing in the corner of my eye. I wanted to look, drawn in by a renewed sense of morbid curiosity. But with the vile cracking sound fading from my mind, I knew better than to test it.

“I don’t recommend looking at her for long,” the woman said. She shook her head. “It’ll mess with your mind.”

I shook my head too, removing the images from my eyes. My cellmate was right and I knew it.

“So, why are you useful?” she asked again. The past minute of strangely interesting terror was all but ripped from reality by the onset of confusion. I widened my eyes and curled my lips at her, gawking at the question that still didn’t make any sense.

Why was I useful? What kind of question was that? For a moment, I thought of my prowess with the blade. But looking down at my thin and inept body, I tossed the thought away rather quickly. It wasn’t true anymore. So, through annoyance that was still bubbling under the surface, I just replied the same was as before.

“I don’t know what you’re asking.”

She rolled her eyes at me. “Okay, I’ll start from scratch then.” She flexed her fingers and gestured to the world around us outside of the cell. The single small wooden building and collection of tents confirmed what she would say next. “This camp is a farm for mages. They send mercenaries and scouters out to find anyone who even has a little prowess with magic and bring them here.” She gestured to the cell we were sitting in. “They keep us here until we’re useful.”

My eyes widened, the information being both vile and incompatible with my mind. Mages were rare, and the ones that could even be considered useful enough to capture would be guarded and capable of defending themselves. The camp… couldn’t have been lucrative. It shouldn’t have been.

I narrowed my eyes at her, immediately suspicious. I squared my shoulders and pressed myself against the wall even harder as if trying to block off her lies from my ears. What she was saying didn’t make any sense.

“So,” she continued, not even noticing my movement. “All that I’m asking is why they brought you here. What are your powers?”

It clicked, the question fitting like a puzzle piece suddenly forced into place. She thought I was a mage.

I’d never been good at magic. For my entire life, I’d been completely inept. Even after becoming a high knight and gaining the opportunity to study with the best mages in the land, I still hadn’t been able to do it. The process didn’t make sense—being able to move energy at will sounded illogical and it just wasn’t possible with my body.

It wasn’t the greatest loss, though. Most people couldn’t perform magic and my physical prowess was greater than the boost some puny flames could’ve given me. Well, it used to be, at least.

My eyebrows dropped and I shoved my head to the side on the metal wall, hearing a dull clang ring out through the cell. A bitter taste fell on my tongue, but I was quick to wash it away, forcing a deep breath through my nose as I responded to her question.

“I… don’t have any,” I said. “I’m not a mage.”

The woman squinted at me, raising an eyebrow in the process. She opened her mouth before snapping it shut only a moment later, her lips contorting in confusion. “If you’re here, you have to be a mage.”

I let out a long breath, tilting my head forward and repeating exactly what I’d said before. “I’m not a mage.”

She blinked and raised her hand. For a moment, she just looked at me, her mouth open. But she didn’t say anything. Instead, she squinted ever-harder, rolling her wrist through the air as if in an attempt to turn the gears in her head. After a while, it became clear that it hadn’t worked.

A confused grunt rose up in her throat. “That makes no sense.”

I shrugged, seeing no further need to repeat myself. She just continued her stare for a few more seconds before throwing her hands up, crossing her arms, and sitting back against the wall.

“Whatever,” she mumbled, still glancing toward me. “I’ll learn what your power is when they test you anyway.”

I blinked, my eyebrows already raising to the sky. “Test me?” I asked, trying to keep my tone steady. “What do you mean by that?”

She chuckled, a smirk rushing right back to mask the confusion she’d displayed moments before. “With every new mage they capture, they test them to see what power their soul’s are attuned to. It’s to see whether or not a prisoner is truly useful.” Her shoulders were steadily raising again, and the confident edge from before was marching its way back. “If they are, they’re sent back to their cell to be called on for future use. If they aren’t… then they’re killed on the spot.”

My eyebrows dropped and I lifted my head off the wall. Thoughts spun in my head, asking questions that I didn’t have the answers to. They fed a growing sensation—a sensation I really hadn’t felt in years. A sensation that pressed against the inside of my skull.

I swallowed, washing nothing from my suddenly dry mouth. I tried to calm my thoughts, to steady my breathing, but I couldn’t. Each time, a new question—a new possibility to consider would spring up.

They’d taken me here. They’d said I was a mage. The scene of my most recent defeat played out in my head. I’d heard the words the mage had used. He’d called me useful, and even that simple fact alone was enough to send shivers running down my spine.

I thought about running, but my legs groaned at that. Even if whatever rest I’d gotten had healed me, I still wasn’t in the best shape. And I didn’t have my sword. No, I thought. I couldn’t run. Running would just get me caught and killed.

But I would be killed anyway, the rising sensation whispered into my ears. I shuddered, pressing myself firmly back against the wall.

I had to think of something. I had to get out. I’d only had this body for a day, and I already hated it. The beast had cursed me, cursed me to live a new life that wasn’t mine. For that, it was going to pay. But as my eyes flicked around and I realized more and more that I wasn’t in a situation that had an easy way out, I cursed under my breath.

And apparently, my cellmate had heard. She chuckled. “You really aren’t a mage, are you?”

I stared at her, shaking my head slowly. “No.”

“You’re screwed then,” she said, sharpening her smirk. “They’re almost here.”

My eyebrows knitted at that, throwing lines on my forehead. I opened my mouth, another question ready at my lips, but that question never made it out. Familiar noises registered at the edge of my hearing.

Footsteps.

Distinct, heavy, boot-made steps ripped through the air. I heard the crunch of grass, the shifting of dirt. They were coming.

“By the way,” my cellmate started, narrowing her eyes, “you’re not from Sarin, are you?”

I widened my eyes, the name registering. “No, I was just on my way—“

The jingle of metal. I stopped, my lips freezing as I dragged my gaze to the door. As I stared out at the bulky man dressed in light armor opening the door. He wore a shallow smirk and kept his eyes on me while the hand not opening the door settled on the daggers strapped to his waist.

“Well,” the woman started again. “I’m Kye, by the way.”

She laughed after that, but I didn’t pay any mind. As the long-forgotten sensation of fear—real fear—pricked my skin, the man wrenched the keys in the door and opened it up.

As soon as he stepped inside, he pointed directly at me.