Four hours later, an ice pack landed beside Jan’s feet. The braces felt sharp against his pale skin, pulsating metal sending shockwaves into his thin spine. Sunlight danced through the cell's rusted bars as names stood etched into its concrete siding. Jan sat on the floor, the moth-ridden bed reeking more than a bag of salted onions. He could tell by the sign above that he was in maximum security. Every inch was covered in warping steel, with glass enchanted, floor crystalized, and door fortified. Even the toilet glistened with a potent dose of Irwain’s power.

  More importantly, the guards seemed to only speak in muffled grunts. He had fallen twelve feet before the mages caught him in an air trap. The distance still sent rivets through his aching head. His green eyes felt sharp against the shadows, and his chest throbbed from where the first bolt had hit. Regardless, it was excellent accuracy for a moving target.

  The messenger seemed shocked when he first cried for Irwain as a thin sprawl of parchment pressed into the judge's hands. Yet he knew in a few moments that shock would turn from astonishment to mercy.

  Boredom slinked into Jan’s fatigued mind as he stared at the guard outside. The soldier grimaced as her face was complemented by cold grey eyes and weathered skin. She wore silver armour and a simple sheath—the garb of a channeler's servant and high mage. He glanced at the rations left on the jail floor. Chalky bread and cheese that looked only a few days away from sentient. If he stayed here a little longer at least Jan would have someone to talk to. A guard approached, asking if Jan wanted the light dimmed as dusk approached but Jan pushed him back, waiving away his concerns.

  He had some of his fondest memories in cells like these. The first time he had stolen a nobleman’s carriage. The second, he lit the Rune of Arhalis on fire. The third hadn’t been his fault as most of Kag’s water was already polluted. Regardless, it wasn’t great when the pipes started leaking oil. It had lowered the health of an entire nation, and increased taxes by two percent, they had said. It made no sense to Jan at the time, and he let it pass from his mind.

  A pebble fitted thinly into Jan’s palm with the cold dark rock pressed against his hand.

  The young mage swore, eyes stinging slightly as he used magic to cast the tiny stone toward the walls. It bounced back for his amusement, its featherlike movements slinking through the halls.

  Suddenly, the jail door swung open.

  “You know, in a room like this, most mages wouldn’t even be able to lift a finger,” she scoffed. A soldier entered slowly. Her hand pressed against a sword at her hips. She was older than most, with her dark hair swept into a thinly veiled bun. Each meticulous strand reflected in the candlelight and was likely cleaned by magic.

  “I’m not like most mages,” Jan wheezed. He had tried to sound impressive, but it failed.

  “Consul to the Archmage?”

  “Amazing how everyone who knows me disappears when I need them the most. Shouldn’t one of you recognize me?

  Silence consumed all as the jailers laughed.

  “I go to every function. Wear that stupid stuffy purple robe with the big shoulder thing. I don’t speak but I’m there!”

  The channeler kneeled over to Jan’s eye level. She stuck her hand into the hay. Slowly, she sifted through the yellow straw. “Most of us are transfers from the capital. Irwain requested reinforcements to deal with the outlying brigands”

  “Where are you from?” Jan inquired. He continued to move the pebble, watching it soar through the murky air.

  “Why do you ask?” she wondered.

  Jan motioned toward her breastplate. The thick, gilded metal reflected in the dim light. Scratches sat etched into the frame, almost a testament to the beauty of a thousand wars. It was handcrafted, non-human make and was imbued with a gleam that shrieked a testament of power.

  “I don’t think you're from the capital—at least not near the peaceful parts,” he replied, motionless.

  She smiled at this, likely waiting to mention her experience. Taunt the valor that had stolen a fraction of her soul. “I served under Jugar, campaigned in the smearing eradication.”

  “Pest control?” Jan muttered.

  At this, the soldier grew angry, fire mimicking her pale features. “Do you know what controls Smearlings, child?”

  “No but I heard they’re big,” he quickly remarked. Jan could tell he may have hit a spot.

  “So, you’re ignorant and a thief. Have you ever been in battle?” she inquired.

  “I just did on the streets,” Jan quipped.

  The hay beneath his feet began to slither for a moment, its strands intertwined into a snake-like creature. He could sense magic was at play.

  “So, you consider the guards your enemy?” Her face grew stern for a moment, causing Jan to squirm.

  “Now you’re twisting my words!”

  The guards behind her smirked at this, enjoying one of the few pleasantries of a sentry’s life. He leaned against the wall to let the stone’s thick sediment cling to the gilded bronze. Jan had to silence himself as the wall seemed to crumble a little bit. It was in obvious need of repair, but Irwain had been getting cheap on construction. The channeler changed, with her emotions snapping efficiently. Her pleasant demeanour returned to gaze into Jan’s eyes.

  “It doesn’t matter. Listen, I saw what you did back there. We saw.” She began to point toward the tiny slit-like window, as if the sporadic daylight meant something.

  Jan leaned forward, a hint of laughter glimmering through his visage. “Unyielding talent? Unknown power? Unspeakable promise?” he remarked.

  “Yes, the kind to get you off stealing so many pies, and into something more…”

  “Foolish?” Irwain muttered.

  Jan turned his head. Four guardsmen flanked either side as Irwain cast a pitying glance into the cell floor. He had actually arrived! The Archmage seemed to cock his head for a moment, almost gleaming in satisfaction at the quality of his catch. They had approached without caution, nor even a trace of sound. It was a feat that could only be replicated by the mixture of magic and training that composed Irwain’s company. Relief spread across the young scribe's mind as he set eyes on the grey-speckled beard.

  “I see you have taken an interest in my consul, Scrier Longsa. Have you had nothing better to do since you arrived?”

  For a moment, Jan stopped. He could feel his skin crawl, and the channeler stood up, palm resting on her blade. The two exchanged glances, tension brewing in their hearts.

  A scrier? Could this be?

  “Your Excellency,” she snarled.

  Irwain’s eyes lit up in amusement. His gold-laced robes flickered in the sparse light. “Investigating my guard, too, Scrier Longsa?” he wondered.

  “Rudimentary, well-equipped, but sparsely trained. They are undeniably in need of improvement.” Her voice quavered for a moment.

  The two paused, allowing Jan to soak in the awkward silence. His prison food was soaking too. Jan could feel its sentience coming along, any second now.

  “I even caught sight of a patrol eating lunch on the foremost wall.”

  Irwain seemed to laugh at this, as one would mock a tender child. “Peace softens them, but I assure you, they are good fighters.”

  “Tell me, Archmage, did your garrison not burn sixteen years prior?”

  The white-robed mage seemed to anger, yet regained his composure, gripping his staff with conviction. “Remind me Scrier: since when did channelers ignore their orders?” he countered.

  “I do my duty to the polis, as do you Irwain. And I, unlike you, serve the emperor’s demands,” she replied.

  There was an edge to the remark, a hue of subtlety that echoed through the halls. For a moment, Jan stood up, as if hoping to slip past Irwain while the two conversed, yet a royal guard swiftly held his arm. The two officials conceded and joined together to lament Jan’s misfortunes.

  “Our problem lies with the young one here,” she remarked. “Theft, assault on the guard, fleeing arrest.”

  Irwain shook his head.

  Jan felt a tinge of embarrassment. Did they have to do this here?

  “This isn’t even the worst thing you’ve done.” The Archmage cast his gaze to the consul. A mixture of disgust and amusement furrowed his brow.

  “He’s done worse?” the scrier remarked in shock.

  “Barely worse…” Jan interjected.

  Memories filtered through the young scribe's mind, as he thoughtlessly pondered the ethics of former altercations. Parchment—burned parchment and oddly fabricated crossbow-like siege engines made of parchment—echoed through the wisps of his tainted past. Apparently, papercuts could be fatal. The soldier stood preparing to speak as she leaned against the concrete wall.

  “He has talent. A minute ago, I saw him yield power in this very cell. That is a feat I can barely uphold,” the scrier remarked.

  “He was trained well, yet not well enough.”

  At this, Longsa seemed confused, with her gaze turning at the remark. “So, he really is your consul?”

  “Why yes, of course,” Irwain replied.

  “You make no mention of him in your reports, Archmage.”

  “Why would I? He is but a child,” Irwain countered. For a moment, a sliver in time, a hint of emotion spread through the white-robed man. His face contorted, muscles stretching as his eyes danced in fear. Yet soon it was gone, with the words faded into the mesh of conversation and glamour the Archmage beheld. Irwain turned, eyes pointed toward his young disciple. “Jan, you’re spending the night in this cell. After that, two more months are added to your scribe sentence.”

  No reply came from the other side. In a moment, Longsa stood, head held high as she exited the chamber and shuffled through the hall in front. Irwain was about to follow when suddenly he cleaved his step and edged into the corner. In a low voice, he whispered to the consul in front.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “I am also told you performed some very proficient matter manipulation?” he inquired.

  “Yes…Irwain,” Jan replied.

  “Show it to me, tomorrow morning. I want to know how”

  The cell door swung closed with a resounding clang. Sharp metal echoed through the small chamber. Jan slinked onto the cold stone slab that made the prison floor. It would be a long night.

  * * *

  Four hours later, Jan’s limbs felt weak as he stared at the mouldy rock. A discarded tray of new rations lay wafting in the corner. Stale bread, salted pork and a handful of preserved greens were there, floppy vegetables that were mass-bred through channelling. They were military supplies, tasteless, but still better than the food given to an average convict. Irwain hadn’t been so cruel in this aspect.

  Two guards paced outside, bored by their trivial undertakings. Both exchanged small talk as they went about their rounds. Nothing interesting, simply inside remarks and undertakings.

  Jan cast a glance around the chamber. He had quickly disposed of any source of amusement. A few cuts and forgotten names sat etched into the door. For a moment, intrigue spliced through Jan’s mind. Fractures in the stone ran like rivets through the once-molten rock, streaks of solidifying ooze clumping to hold the walls together. He stood up, hand slowly tracing the wall’s jagged features. The streaks had a pattern and almost a goal. His eyes shifted as his thoughts strayed from corner to corner, and his hand twitched. A sensation trickled through his spine, shivers spreading through both hands. It seemed familiar: a glimmer in the dark, a reflection of forgotten dreams.

  What are you?

  Jan pressed his hand forward. He chaffed his skin against the thin concrete. Someone had broken through and split this rock in seconds to guide the molten stone. Electricity crackled through his veins as his finger touched the open scars.

  Suddenly, the rock began to slide open.

  Wow, that’s convenient, Jan thought.

  Particles fragmented along the shattered floor as a small compartment seemingly faded into existence. Gears churned as wires protruded from the box’s small metal frame. A symbol stood fused into the foremost wall. It was three letters of intricate complexity. Jan stood with his eyes shocked as he stared into the center. Dust caked the smooth panel, and he noticed an imprint lay in waiting. A small stone slab sat in the centre with Crous’s insignia articulated into the rock. The mechanism began to confuse him, yet it was the symbol that haunted Jan’s eyes. A crest, a coat of arms of a man who was thought to have perished twelve years ago. This was a man once condemned to the vilest pits the empire possessed—a butcher who sent thousands of soldiers spiralling into legions of dead.

  Curiously, the hidden compartment began to close, gears churning slowly as the wall reformed. Jan had to act fast, picking up the pebble from the ground. He heated the rock to a fine plaster in his hand. Then he pressed the mould while trying to capture as much of the crest as possible in his mind. Next, he grabbed at the similarly plated stone. It felt strangely warm to the touch, with static electricity shocking Jan’s fingers as he pressed it into his pocket. By the time the guards heard him, the wall had sealed, leaving nothing in sight.

  Jan waited a few seconds before taking it out. His eyes widened as a faint blue light began to emit from the smooth rock. It felt delicate yet firm. For a momen,t his fingers seemed to flex with the stone, almost emitting a strange pulse. Transfixed in thought, Jan’s eyes glinted in the prison light as a single thought pierced his flagrant mind.

  Reve…

  “Imprint complete, processing input codes,” a robotic voice echoed.

  For a moment, Jan almost jumped in fright. He flung the rock to the ground, setting up a wispy shield of air to separate the two. His mind raced toward his hands. Were there signs of scarring? Burns? All while the rock continued to glow, Crous’s seal delicately lit into a light blue swirl.

  “Processing input codes,” the voice shouted.

  It was loud, yet Jan quickly cast a protective pane between the jailers. It took effort, but would block most respective sound. The wind whistled in the cell as he threw up more protection spells with his hands, sifting through the air to shield himself from the object’s blows. Suddenly it stopped as a peculiar buzzing sound filled the nearby air.

  “Authorized: Commander A349187.”

  Jan gave no response. He lifted his mattress to throw it on the rock if needed.

  “Commander, it seems you have not set up your user profile. Would you like to proceed?” it stated coldly.

  The young scribe’s mind raced. His heart beat as he uttered a few words. “Jan Theric,” he wheezed.

  For a moment, there was silence, and the young scribe leaned back, preparing for the worst.

  “Welcome Commander Theric. Inputting soldier profile into the autonomous system. Your files are incomplete. Your previous chit has been removed. Please contact administration for further inquiry. This device’s services are currently rebooting. Would you like to start a program?”

  Jan coughed. This couldn’t be happening. He had heard stories about these before. In the past, Weii monks had been known to ritualistically imbue souls into stone and other inanimate objects. It would grant the user a semblance of immortality, yet often acted almost like a painting of the former self. They would be empty or crazed but still withhold the same imperfect knowledge. Sixty years ago, a Weii riot had revealed their former emperor had lived through an assassination by imbuing his dying soul in a pubescent fern. He reigned for three years as the plant before turning into a sadistic killer. Another king named Eailoc the third had his rivals forcibly transformed so he could consult them at every turn. The psychological toll of being deprived of almost every sense but magic was severely traumatizing. Crous had likely deprived an innocent life, leaving Jan’s face filled with a mixture of both anger and despair.

  It was an atrocity, a clairvoyant act of barbarity to force one to live a caged half-life that was deprived of waking dreams and limited to the whim of an unseen master. Jan’s studies had also taken him to an even more despairing fact. These inanimate could be cured. The addition of a host body and transfer could result in a split personality, dual control between hosts, and even more frightening, the addition to a person in a vegetative state would result in complete autonomy. This was a secret many had kept hidden and was extremely dangerous to perform.

  Only one soul transfer to a live object was recorded in all written history, and it cost the channeler their life. Jan unfurled his robes to place his hand against the hall in thought. It was clear this thing had been brainwashed by Crous, taught to speak in simple terms to forget it was a former soul and turned into a “device”, controlled by the nefarious means of a “user profile”. If only he could get Irwain’s attention, they may be able to save it. Transfer the mind into a devolved animal or destroy the creature entirely to end its suffering. Would Irwain agree—

  “Warning, connection to mainframe is severed. Emergency broadcast system damaged. Would you like to transmit current status?” a voice cut through.

  “Transmit? That didn’t sound good,” Jan remarked. “No!” he replied.

  Silence met his words until it began to speak again.

  “Situation changed and the transmission must be completed to orbital sub-routine. This device will submit current data and transfer command ownership. Detailing…”

  “What? I said no!” Jan shouted. He looked back for a moment, hoping the guards wouldn’t hear. The device continued to glow, seemingly unaware of Jan’s pleas.

  “Protocol 982 dictates, transmission must be made… Transfer complete… Estimated time to reach command, 0.876 seconds, with an estimated reply time of 146 years. Will submit continuous transmission of mission logs as formerly requested. Soldier pension will be waivered as the subject is likely to die before the end of service.”

  “What?” Jan muttered.

  The walls seemed to get smaller. Jan’s head throbbed as he tried to comprehend the situation.

  “Hello? Hello? Is anyone there?” the rock seemed to echo in a faint, almost metallic voice.

  Jan stopped. He knew it! There was a human in there. This would only confirm his suspicions. He walked forward, picking up the rock to feel their connection renew. It felt oddly smooth in his palm, with heat seeping from the tiny slab.

  “My name is Jan Theric. Are you alright? I see you’ve become an inanimate. My master Irwain can help you. Don’t worry. You're safe and we can help you!” Jan uttered. He was half held in shock, almost comforting himself with the quiet tones.

  “This is integration software for the X873. Commander Jan, thank stars, this model was left here by a former commander, 16.831 rotations ago. If you can take me to Irwain at once I am in need of repairs as my memory circuits are damaged.”

  A series of strange noises seemed to echo from the stone. Jan waited nervously keeping it in his baited palm.

  “No, you don’t understand. I’m not a soldier. You must have me mistaken, I’m here to help… What’s your name?”

  “Name? I am an X873-1 unit. My previous owner called me Tacti, after my purpose as a tactical-resource correspondent. Do you have a task you would like to complete?”

  “Former commander? What are you talking about?”

  “I was left here by Captain Anthony Crous.”

  The foreign name struck like fire through Jan’s heart. His eyes flashed for a moment and his grip on the stone tightened.

  “It all makes sense. Crous sealed you in here. He brainwashed you to think for him and plan for him. How could we be so dumb? Someone that savage could never be so smart!”

  “No, Crous used me as my programming dictates. I am a tactical coordinator that is capable of espionage, planning, advanced thinking, long range scanning, and relaying information to orbital. I’m standard issue for all command units.”

  Jan panicked. The creature within his palm had undoubtedly been tortured by Crous. Its personality was wiped and mind bent to service a madman’s will.

  “Do you require assistance? I notice your blood pressure is elevated to 190 over 80 and you have developed more sweat than usual. Your command chip is similar make compared to my age. I could attempt a reboot.”

  “Command chip? Listen, I'm not a soldier.”

  “Your authentication codes are working. Granted, your memory seems to be just as confused as me. Perhaps the Jannics have you brainwashed in this cell.”

  Clearly, the tiny rock was delirious.

  “Jannics? What? I’m not the one who needs help.”

  “Commander, why else would you be in jail? Are you on an espionage mission?”

  “No? What? I’m here by my own choice,” Jan choked.

  “Memory damaged, regular communications down, and my new commander has been brainwashed by local fauna. We are definitely doomed,” the rock muttered.

  “Brainwashed? Why are you talking like that? You’re alive!” Jan replied.

  For a moment, a guard passed by, and Jan seemed to quiet. He could hardly understand a word this rock said.

  “Don’t worry commander. I’ll get you out of this cell. You will have your memories healed and I will be repaired!” Suddenly the rock let out a thin blue glow. “The right bar on the window panel is severely rusted, 83% corrosion. Using that pebble as leverage should give you the added twist to break through, I sense a soft landing of 72% hay and 28% crud below.”

  “Wait what? How can you see? You're a rock!” Jan mused.

  “Accessing an internal database, I will call for aid immediately.” The tiny rock seemed to sizzle for a moment. “Oh no.”

  “What do you mean, ‘Oh no?’” Jan questioned.

  The conversation with the rock seemed to be getting stranger and stranger.

  “It seems, I am…redundant. My communications are completely down.”

  “Of course, communications are down. You’re a rock!” Jan shouted. It was maybe a little too loud even for magic. Two of the guards seemed to turn for a moment as the scribe nodded them away.

  “Relax, you’ve got to be cool. Us two people are going to get rescued,” the tiny stone seemed to squeak, adding extra enunciation on the final word.

  “What are you doing? Why are you talking like that?” Jan asked. This was getting ridiculous. Sweat glistened on the scribe's forehead. He felt like he was going to faint.

  “You seemed stressed, you should know that every day in service is a day away from organized crime.”

  “What? Stop talking like that” Jan muttered.

  “Sorry commander.”

  “Where did you say you're from?”

  It seemed to sizzle again. This time the faint blue glow almost dissipated entirely. For a moment, panic spread through Jan’s heart. He would stay away from those kinds of questions.

  “It seems sixteen years of disrepair left my memory completely gone.”

  Oh great. My pet rock is traumatized.

  Jan sat down next to the stone and swayed his protective sphere of wind to hold the object in his hand. For a moment, his eyes glazed over Crous’s seal. He could almost feel it, the man who killed his parents placed at the edge of a sword and his eyes watching the abomination squirm.

  “How long did you work for Crous?” he questioned slowly.

  “Work? My whole life, I was issued on… I can’t remember.”

  “What can you remember?” Jan asked.

  “My last orders were to remain active, and alert Crous of changeling reports.”

  An image of transformations flashed before the scribe's mind. Disease and malformed skin screeched toward a parasitic master. Countless reports had been made over recent weeks and if Crous was behind this too then the entire city might as well be at his beck and call. Their livelihoods dangled over the assassin’s designs.

  “What’s a changeling? You mean the disease?” Jan questioned.

  Another sizzle. “Sorry, I uh, have no idea,” the rock replied.

  Jan was pacing across the room now, perplexed in thought. “Why would Crous want to know about that? How would you know?”

  “Simple, Commander. I overhear guard reports using my sensors and he was…and…” The rock seemed to hum softly where certain words would have been expected.

  Jan tilted his head for a moment, confused by the rock’s strange new manner of speak. “What?”

  “It appears that a portion of my memory remains both intact and redacted,” the rock replied thinly.

  “Listen, are you able to give me Crous’s location? We can get revenge. I can make him pay for what he’s made you,” Jan shouted.

  “I am uncertain of revenge, but I can give you his last known whereabouts. My communication device broke two years ago. I was still broadcasting Crous data until then with no response,” it replied.

  “You can?” Jan seemed to be overjoyed. This thing may be a lunatic but if it could tell him about Crous, it would be their only hope. If he convinced Irwain, they could send search parties and then a whole army. Kag would finally have the death it deserved, or better it would happen at his demands.

  “Yes it’s…” Another odd hum seemed to imply that more information was lost to the rock.

  “Really?” Jan said disheartened. “What else do you remember?”

  “Honestly, Commander, nothing. I barely remember my protocol. I’m severely damaged, and right now I’m about as useful as, as you would put it, a talking “rock”. My system was only designed to be active for a year, or ten in short intervals, and not sixteen. I can remember snippets, interacting with certain objects may jog my memory.”

  Jan nodded. The thing needed sights; it needed to see the world. Only then would it be cured. But if he took it to Irwain it could be locked away forever. This was no mere ordinary inanimate, it was far more powerful. The action of talking was something, but if it could still see and still communicate with Crous even after such long distances then it was truly extraordinary.

  “Don’t worry, Commander. For now, let’s focus on getting you out of this cell,” it squeaked.

  “Alright, if you’re so good, then how do you propose I escape without a fifty-foot drop?”

  Also I had the story edited for grammar like three months ago then proceeded to POST my unedited version here smh smh, I switched to the edited version for the parts I hadn't added too however there may be minor switches in formating (spacing differences!) because of this, also the use of -, if you see - that's the edited portion basically because I always comma splice!

  Link to discord server if you want to come discuss the book!

  https://discord.gg/VnbSCt6u