Lonna sat on her pallet, scanning through the notes on her datapad, trying to ignore the dull ache in her limbs that still hadn’t faded completely. Her energy had returned enough that she rarely slept, yet the lingering symptoms of casting left her in a constant state of weariness. She knew lying idle would only make her dwell on the argument she’d had with her mother, and that always brought back memories—flashes of her captivity, mostly fragmented but just vivid enough to leave her questioning whether she wanted more to return. The quiet around her felt oppressive, so she focused on Jahree’s files. Since his blood had been used, that seemed as good a starting point as any. Across the room, Tercala shifted restlessly on his pallet. Since they had to make him change forms, it slowed his healing. It would be a while before he was ready to be up. His face was etched with frustration and despair, a mix she recognized too well. He was still bedridden, still mourning the potential loss of flight. He rarely spoke, refusing any suggestion to distract himself. “Ter,” she called softly, rising to her feet and making her way over to his bed. She lowered herself beside him, feeling the tension radiate from his frame. He opened his eyes, frowning. “What are you doing?” His voice was clipped, but beneath it, there was a hint of curiosity. “I need help,” she replied, a half-smile on her lips. “Help?” His eyebrow arched. “Yeah, I need help understanding this magic-eater concept,” she explained, holding up her datapad. “I thought maybe you could help me look over my notes?” He shook his head. “I can’t handle tech. Too much eta-vie.” She tilted her head, frowning. “Eta-vie?” “Copper or other metals that mess with magic,” he clarified. She glanced at the data pad. “There’s none of that in this. The Bureau made sure of it. It was custom-built for me. They were...totalitarian, to say the least. If they expected results, they provided what was necessary.” Tercala rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “And you think I’ll understand any of it?” “Maybe not all of it,” she admitted, “but I think you’ll see things I’ve missed. Sometimes, a fresh pair of eyes makes all the difference.” She looked at him hopefully, the strain of her own burdens evident. He sighed, then nodded reluctantly. “Fine.” She passed him a small ball from the nightstand, one she’d noticed he often fiddled with. “Here,” she said with a small smile. “Your addiction?” He caught it, gripping it tightly. “Cramda kept me confined,” he muttered. “A friend of his gave me this to keep me occupied, kept me from asking too many questions. If I did, he’d hit me. When my magic started manifesting, I’d play catch with myself, release bursts of magic to bounce the ball off the walls.” Lonna’s expression darkened. “I always hated him,” she murmured, her voice tight. “He was cruel, even when I was older. But Morcri was worse.” She shuddered, a chill creeping through her spine at the mention of that name. He noticed and didn’t press her. Instead, she pointed to her notes. “This is Jahree’s file. I think I was close to finding something when his family left.” He growled, his voice low. “His name is Millnis Jahree?” “Yes. Jahree was the name his parents gave him. Millnis was his designation,” she explained. “Sectors were everything. People lived, worked, and even received medical care within their assigned sectors. If they wanted to leave, they needed permission. Except in emergencies, you couldn’t cross into other sectors without it.” “Imagine living like that,” he muttered, clearly disturbed. “So this is...a record of your experiments?” She shook her head. “It’s everything. Every medical record since his mother first learned she was pregnant.” Tercala took the computer and skimmed through it, then glanced up, eyebrows raised. “I thought Thailyn was detailed with his notes.” “That’s where I got it from,” she said, a hint of nostalgia in her voice. “I don’t remember him well, but I know he valued documentation.” He gave her a reassuring look. “Give it time. Your memories will return.” She shook her head, exhaling sharply. “I’m not ready for more memories, Ter. Let’s focus on this. Jahree was tested for magic here,” she pointed out. “Neither parent tested positive, so we altered the relevant DNA.” “Magic is hereditary,” he objected. “How can Jahree have magic if his parents didn’t?” She shrugged, frustration lacing her words. “He shouldn’t, but occasionally, we see anomalies. Mutations, maybe?” “Are you sure his parents are Shima and Willin?” Ter pressed. “I checked,” she replied, showing him the results. “They are. I double-checked everything. The Bureau may not care about such details, but I do. And no, his parents didn’t have magic removed. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen this, and I’ve double-checked them all. The Bureau doesn’t care much, but they allow the tests.” He frowned thoughtfully. “Are they the same ones that are magic-resistant? And are they the ones that responded differently to the tests, like Jahree?” “No,” she said, scrolling through her notes. “But some responses may be related to prenatal treatments. The Bureau ran experiments on prenatal care, testing different medications across various groups to measure effectiveness.” He growled, his disdain evident. “They have no respect for their own people.” “They fear enslavement by the immortals,” she replied. “They endured centuries of oppression. They’ll do anything to avoid it again.” “They weren’t slaves, though. Maybe oppressed, but not enslaved. Tamerians and immortals have always been too different to ever truly conquer one another,” he replied with conviction. “It’s mutual fear, nothing more.” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “We’re no closer to a solution.” Ter hesitated, then said, “When my father was trapped on Earth for centuries, his magic was damaged. Is Tameria like that?” “No. I could cast there freely when permitted.” He nodded. “Then maybe an immortal is interfering. Could they be slipping DNA into unborn children?” “But then it wouldn’t match the parents. And why?” she challenged. “Why go through the effort if it’s only removed before birth?” He considered that, then shrugged. “Maybe he was interrupted? We need to compare all anomalies and look for patterns.” “That’ll take more power than I have,” she warned, tapping the almost-dead battery indicator. “We’ll go through what we can until you lose power. This trip is only a few weeks at most. And there’s a way to charge it in New Trito.” He placed his hand over hers, determination in his eyes. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.” She nodded, bolstered by his resolve. They leaned closer over the datapad, diving into the files with fresh determination, two broken souls searching for answers in a world that seemed to resist them at every turn. #fantasy #magic #dragons #hiddenlands