The Alguise Kingdom was known for a vast number of reasons. It was known as the kingdom of hope or the kingdom of magic. A place where, if you worked hard enough, your dreams would be fulfilled.  

Foreigners, merchants, and tourists said every corner of every street breathed with magic. Its residents smiled and were immensely grateful to the royal family, the so-called descendants of the God of prosperity. Said Royal family was blessed by the world, beloved by everyone. Thanks to their blessings, there were harvests every season, and farmers would gladly pay high taxes due to their high earnings. 

When a tourist had told me his impression of the kingdom, I had been truly irritated and understood why people said ignorance was bliss.  

To them, it was the kingdom of magic and prosperity, but to all of the residents outside the capital, Capdone, it was a place where your life was never guaranteed. 

In the other cities and towns, crime and corruption ran rampant. The sight of vagabonds, thieves, and criminals was so common it even blended with the landscape. Hell, even the occasional dead body in the streets would be shrugged upon when found. Guards were incompetent and would ignore most of the crimes, only actually worrying about ones committed by certain individuals —deviants 

Merchants would gather in places where population and money circulated, and everywhere else except Capdone was not it. 

Capdone was in the north, it was like heaven on earth, with new magical inventions being created every year, bringing even more life to the capital. All of this was due to the magnificent Treller Tower, gathering talented magicians from every corner of the kingdom and even others.  

If Capdone was blessed by the god of prosperity, then the god himself had crushed the rest of the kingdom and spit in the already festering wound. 

Foreigners had heard of another magic tower in the kingdom; however, it was ignored in favor of the more attractive Treller Tower whose first floor was open to the public. 

In contrast, the Zorad Tower in the south was a dull prison that would become my personal hell for the next two years. 

“Wow, and what’s the name of this tower?” A voice, accompanied by the slight fragrance of lavender and mint, snapped me out of a daze. As it happened before, I felt like I was slowly sinking in muddy waters, struggling till I drowned at the bottom of a swamp. That was the effect Dael had on me, and if I were to guess by the expression of the people in my vicinity, it was the same for everyone else. 

To avoid losing myself, I wiped out my tears with my sleeve and focused on the voice talking to me instead of the menacing presence of Dael, and the weight of her gaze. 

The head of the man who had talked reached my chest but coming out from his head were ears similar to a cat’s–They were the same color as his hair, a dark scarlet. By no means was he short, however, compared to me, perhaps he felt lacking. 

It felt good to see people with non-human features, it meant they weren’t the snobby folks I despised the most.  Still, as deviants, I hated them all the same. 

My mouth felt dry and raspy. Were I respond to the man, who seemed to be searching for something in my face with his blue eyes, my voice would come out hoarse and grating. I didn’t want to show weakness of any form. Even if I were in top-notch condition, I had no intention of talking at all, the vilest people in the kingdom didn’t deserve my words. 

“Tough audience? It’s okay though, you’ll warm up to us soon enough.” The man said, he momentarily turned around, exchanging silent words through gazes with another shorter man resting against a door. The latter’s head was covered by dark curls the color of oak and his body was shrouded with a distant sensation as if he wasn’t even there. It gave me the impression those two had known each other for a long time and I felt immensely jealous. They were probably able to guess what the other was thinking by looking at their eyes, it was how I was with Vincent a long time ago, and to a lesser extent with Corpo.  

“Whether you like it or not.” He added with a toothy grin. 

The man snatched the paper from my hands, reading what were essentially instructions given to me.  

I tried to get it back, however, the man was nimble, and I didn’t want to embarrass myself pursuing someone on my first day at the Zorad Tower. Seeing that I didn’t have the intention of getting back what was once mine, he clicked his tongue. I glared back at him, hoping it would discourage him from talking to me, but it was unsuccessful. 

“By the way, the name’s Oscar Fuchs.” The man introduced himself while he scanned the contents of my paper. His eyes widened slightly, a gesture that would’ve gone unnoticed, had I not been staring at his face. “I don’t know if you’re unlucky or not, you’ll be staying in the same room as Vert but, then again, that’s Lemberg’s room, too.” 

I had thought all of them — including me — would be confined to single cells, but by what he was telling me, there were no cells, just rooms shared with other deviants. 

The other deviants had continued talking; however, I knew they were eavesdropping on whatever came out of Fuchs’s fanged mouth. 

“There,” Fuchs pointed at the second last door at the end of the hall, his finger almost pointed at Dael — making me feel a primal fear for Fuchs as if grieving a living man I cared not of, since I felt his finger was going to be severed in the next second. Luckily for him, he was pointing at the man he had exchanged glances with earlier, now resting his back against the door of the room with his eyes closed. “That’ll be your room. Your secretary sure was kind, they wrote everything you need to know about this place, well everything except who not to mess with.” 

Even if the secretary had done that, I wouldn’t have messed with anybody at all, rather, I wanted to remain quiet, unnoticed, with little to no interaction with others until I was released from the Tower. 

“Are you mute?” Fuchs asked, returning the paper he had stolen, “If you are then you’ll get along with Lemberg perfectly fine, as long as you follow his beck and call. You don’t seem the type to do it though.” 

Fuchs grabbed my wrist, ready to take me to my new room, but a painful grunt escaped my lips. 

“Look at that, you can speak! And here I thought you were the same as Dael.” Fuchs glanced at the reddish marks turning purple on my wrists, then at my face. Startled, Fuchs released his grip, giving a nervous chuckle. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m really sorry. The guard’s brutality is the same as always, eh?” 

Instead of my wrist, Fuchs gripped my sleeve —with a softness I’d not expected coming from some like him, a deviant gentler than Vincent himself —and guided me to the room I would be staying in. 

The man leaning against the door opened his eyes, his indifference no longer concealed by his eyelids. I felt I was being observed by a predator, but I knew the goosebumps on my skin were not because of him, they were caused by Dael, as creepy as she always was. The man was shorter compared to Fuchs, but he had a stronger presence.  

When the man’s gaze landed on Fuchs, it was as if all apathy had been washed away, melted, and only left the familiarity felt between friends. He stepped out of the way, letting Fuchs enter a room that wasn’t even his. 

Interesting but at the same time inconvenient.  

The inside of the room was what I would have expected from public dorms I had seen before. There were two bunk beds resting against opposite walls. Each mattress seemed comfortable enough to sink on them, covered by silk sheets and pillows that appeared to be stuffed with the feathers of mythological creatures, I guessed, as with my untrained eyes I could see it was high quality. Near the corner of the wall was a small nightstand, giving the room a cozy feeling. Above the nightstand, there was a portrait of a man. He looked similar to the grand wizard of the Treller Tower, only the color of his irises was different — a yellow akin to gold instead of the purple everybody knew him for. The portrait gave me the same impression the paintings of the hall–the one where Vincent had shown his back–did.  

The wall opposite the nightstand had been changed to an enormous closet behind an accordion door with enough space to be a room on its own. At the side of one of the bunk beds, there was a desk wide enough for two people to read or work using it. Small stones on its wooden surface made it seem as if it was the desk of a child with a knack for collecting stones from the banks of the river. 

This was not a prison, just a temporary and comfortable stay for people that didn’t even deserve to be treated as humans.  

Was this where my taxes went? When I left the place and returned to my home, tax evasion would be the next step. I could learn from the scammer I had once befriended out of boredom. 

 “That bunk bed is empty.” Fuchs guided me to the beds on the left, “You can choose whichever you want.” 

I chose the lowest bed, if for some reason I needed to run, I would not waste more time than was necessary. 

“Give your clothes to Vert after you change, he will throw them away later.” 

Something in my face must have told him I found what he said odd, so Fuchs explained with a bright smile, “Vert is the guy that was leaning against the door. Very dashing, isn’t he?” Looking at my clothes with an almost jealous expression Fuchs added, “Also, you are one of us so start dressing as if you belonged here.” 

With those words, Fuchs left the room. I could hear his retreating voice through the door, probably talking with Vert, until both were so far away, that their voices vanished. 

I stood in the silent room, the only sound was my deep breathing.  

With the voices, the scents left too.  

I hadn’t realized it at first. The lack of scents wasn’t really something commented on unless prompted. Only one’s attention would be dragged to a disgusting smell, like the coopery aroma I had the displeasure to notice before. 

Opening the accordion door, I could only see pure whiteness. The closet was filled to the brim with white jumpsuits —it was the prisoner’s outfits for deviants —of large sizes, probably made for men. It was logical, as far as I had seen, the majority of deviants were men. 

Even though I carefully took my clothes off, I winced– the fabric of the pants still grazed the scratches on my knees.  

When removing my shirt, I noticed that I didn’t smell my own sweat. 

I was confused. I had been oozing cold transpiration ever since I placed a step on the Zorad Tower but now there was no odor. 

Taking a deep breath, I noticed the faint fragrance of mint and lavender along with that of leather–that belonged to the room — had completely disappeared. 

Was this another weird curse someone had cast onto me?  

First my sight and hearing, and now smell? 

How cruel could the secretaries be—I believed they had been the ones to cast such a spell, the guards were known for their brutish strength, not their proficiency in magic —enjoying my suffering, depriving me of my senses, when I was disoriented enough. 

Deviants were awful people but the secretaries weren’t any better. 

I sighed, feeling miserable and despondent.  

Two years, I reminded myself, two years and that was it. Two years could pass in the blink of an eye, I wouldn’t even realize when it was all over. I hoped my stay would be like a short nightmare. I would close my eyes —my eyelids hiding any feelings — and then I would be greeted by Corpo, who was promoted to my one and only friend after what Vincent had said. 

Thinking about Corpo or Vincent would only depress me further, so I went back to the task at hand. Using my black shirt, I tried to wipe out the dry blood from the wound on my knee. 

I was ready to clean the sticky substance I had stepped on before. 

To my horror it was what I feared and closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. my attempt to calm down was unsuccessful. I retched, my closed eyes seeing a different color from the infinite black that had tormented me earlier.  

I opened my eyes, but the image of a mush of red was still present, haunting me. 

I cleaned my feet while looking directly at the golden eyes of the portrait in the room.  

While trying to control my breathing, I reached for the jumpsuit of the largest size and wore it. I was thankful it was a two-piece jumpsuit, otherwise, going to the bathroom would've become a burdensome task.  

The largest size was not enough for me, the hem of the pants reaching the middle of my shin. The white sleeves—That in Dael covered her whole arm–only covered until the middle of my forearm. 

Having finished dressing, I clasped the jumpsuit and folded the shirt and pants I had taken off, laying them at the top of the desk. Fuchs had said to give it to Vert, but he was nowhere to be seen and I didn’t want to talk to him, less go out of the room–away from the little safety it provided– to find him. 

Sitting in my new bed—not that it was something to celebrate— I read the contents of the paper the secretary gave me. It contained a floorplan of the 12th floor that only indicated where the restrooms were. Additionally, the schedule of the times to shower, eat and sleep were written. Between those times, there were limited places you could go to pass time and not become insane due to boredom. 

The time when the 11th and 10th floors opened was also specified. The 11th floor was divided into three sections: the library, the cafeteria, and the showers. The library and showers opened most of the time. The library only closed when new books were added or maintenance was needed. The showers were always open to whoever at any time. On the other hand, the cafeteria opened only during breakfast, lunch, and dinnertime.  

 On the 10th floor resided more deviants so I had no intention to venture into it. 

There was no more information about the other floors, as it was unnecessary. However, according to the paper, a deviant could go to the garden via a teleportation circle near the library. 

I felt the exhaustion in each of my bones, my body begging for rest.  

It was the second most stressful day in my life. I only wanted to sink into the mattress and sleep, hoping that tomorrow, when I opened my eyes, I would realize that all of this was just a bad dream. That I didn’t see a man get squashed to death, that I hadn’t been brought to the tower–that Vincent didn’t crush our friendship. 

Covering myself with a blanket, I tried to fall asleep, and while my body begged for rest, my mind didn’t. It wandered around circles, thinking about what if and whatnots. Reminiscing about every wrong decision I had made that led me to this moment in time. 

Vincent was half-right; curiosity was a frightening thing. It killed, it massacred, it only spelled doom when it came to the books left by the worst Magician. It had left me stranded in the tower, with only one acquaintance that hated me and surrounded by hyenas with unknown intentions. 

My parents used to admonish me by repeating a saying whenever I wandered outside the village, into the forests, and near Capdone. 

Curiosity killed the cat. 

 And it had, indeed, killed my freedom. 

But somehow, the cat was still moving after being buried six feet under. 

As long as the cat could move, it would turn curiosity into its shovel. 

The library probably had information I needed to survive. Books that, while not forbidden, could serve some purpose to the deviants.  

Every deviant stuck in here was a source of information, and while I didn’t have any intention to interact with them, observing others could be more useful. 

Learning who was harmless or who was dangerous was the only way to remain safe. 

And what was most important was to learn what magic the book had given me. It was common sense that every deviant had a bizarre power, so I probably had one too. 

I just hoped it wasn’t something revolting that made hills of bones. 

To learn all that I needed to learn, I needed to rest. 

With new determination, I tried to sleep, yet again, I wasn’t able to.  

Not because of my thoughts though, this time, what kept me awake was the creaking of a door as it opened. 

Was it Vert? Had he returned to get the clothes? 

I cursed at the carpet inside my heart, if there wasn’t any, I would have been able to hear the approaching footsteps of whoever had entered the room. 

I stayed motionless, even held my breath, to try to remain unnoticed. Maybe if I stayed still, I would disappear too. 

In the silent room, the breathing of someone near felt immensely loud. 

Even more so as it approached my bed. 

Whoever had just entered had the hobby of being a fucking creep. 

They remained standing next by my side. I could feel their eyes on my skin. Ever since Dael had looked at me, I started noticing when people observed me, but when others did it was completely different than the sensation Dael’s gaze brought, able to cause a full shudder to run through my body. 

I didn’t know how much time passed until I heard movements towards the other bunk bed on the right, the rustle of clothing, and the pressure of someone against the mattress. 

After that, sleep didn’t come easily, but when it did, it was short-lived, accompanied by blistering sweat and the sensation that my clothing and blankets were suffocating me.