Sirens screeched. Illius jumped, dropping his bag. His bread fell to the ground, a bagel rolling out into the street. Everyone around him froze. The next blast of the siren shook them from their stupor—he picked up the bag and ran, abandoning the bagel. Before him, he could see a stone bridge over the Zagheiss river that divided the city of Debendorf. Everyone moved down the narrow, flagstone street, shoving him across the bridge. He dodged a brightly colored canopy hanging in front of a shop entrance. He never wandered to the south side of town, and he now really regretted his bagel quest as he followed a crowd of people running into a massive, brick church with two sharp twin steeples guarding the front door. The city sound system blared just as he ran up the steps.
“Please proceed in an orderly fashion to the nearest shelter. This is not a drill or a test. A therian has been identified in your area. Enforcers have been deployed to help you. Please report any suspicious individuals to the nearest enforcer. Therian traits can include animalistic facial features, external appendages such as horns or tails, and raw elemental magic disruptions. Please remain calm.”
Illius tuned out the rest of the message as he pulled his hat down further over his ears and followed the group filing into the huge brick building. A priest stood at the front door, hustling everyone along and mumbling directions. Illius couldn’t make out what the man said in all the noise and confusion, so he just trailed the crowd into the basement. He breathed a little easier as he stepped off the last stair and shuffled his way into the back. More and more people filled up the church, chattering to each other, their voices echoing off the barren stone walls. He sat on a cardboard box with his back against the wall, still clutching his bagels. He wasn’t alone, listening to the muffled sirens outside, as a heavily pregnant mother wrangled her two children over in his direction.
She sat a little girl on the ground, letting go of her son’s hand for a second. When she turned around, he’d darted off. “Ezekiel, come back here!” She sighed and glanced around at the people already seated. “Ugh.”
“Here.” Illius stood up from his box, offering it to the woman.
“Thank you.” She slumped her shoulders, led her little girl over, and sat down. “I’m too pregnant for this nonsense.”
He nodded to her.
“Look, Mom!” The little boy ran back to his mom and pointed to his sister, whose hair stuck up all over her head. “Aly looks like a therian!”
“I do not!” the little girl protested with a sneer.
“Do too!” he shouted. “I bet they’re out there looking for you!”
“Hush!” The mother grabbed the boy by his arm. “Don’t call your sister that. She’s not one of those demons.”
“Therian! Therian!” he chanted.
“Shut up!” the sister screamed, suddenly shrill, drawing stares from everyone else in the church.
“If you’re not quiet, we’ll have to leave,” the mother said, trying to calm her children. “And then, the therian will get you. Is that what you want?”
“Aly is the therian.” The boy grinned at his sister. “The enforcers will come and get you, and then I won’t have to share my room anymore. Mr. Milkstache will be all mine!”
“I’m not a therian!” she sobbed. “I’m not! I’m not!”
“Ezekiel, sit down,” the mother ordered. “You apologize to your sister.”
“Dad says I don’t have to.”
“Well, I say you do.” The mother tightened her grip on him.
“Lemme go!” The boy squirmed. “I don’t have to listen to you. I only listen to Dad!”
“You listen to me too,” the mother insisted.
“No, I don’t!” He tried to wiggle out of her grasp again.
“Excuse me,” one of the sisters of the church said, walking up to them. “We have some blocks and toys in a room to the right if the children would like to play there.”
“I wanna go!” the boy demanded.
The mother closed her eyes and released him. “You can go—just be nice and remember to share. Aly, do you want to go?”
The girl shook her head, still crying into her mother’s shoulder.
“Ezekiel,” the mother snapped, “you need to apologize to your sister first.”
He hesitated. “Fine, sorry. Filthy therian!” He turned and ran off.
His sister wailed, and the mother just winced. Her eyes fell on Illius. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s alright,” he told her, shrugging. “I remember when the sirens would go off during the war, and my mom and I would run for the shelters. It’s not very fun when you’re a kid.”
She gave a small, frustrated sigh. “It’s not fair for them to grow up this way. When I was a kid, there weren’t any such things as therians. They didn’t exist. What kind of a world is this? Monsters walking the streets, looking just like us? I can’t wait for the day the enforcers finally get rid of them.”
Illius started glancing around the room. “Is there a bathroom in here?” he asked the mother.
“Yeah, up the stairs to the right,” she said. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, fine.” He got up and wriggled his way through the mass of people.
A priest stood at the bottom of the stairway, blocking the path up. Illius glanced at the man and turned to the right, abandoning the thought of fleeing to the bathroom. Instead, he found a quieter, darker corner. There he sat against the wall, huddled and shaking under the stairwell. He fussed with his hat a bit more before leaning his back against the cold brick. He focused on his breathing, trying to slow his heartbeat and calm down.
It seemed he’d sat there for hours when the sirens started to blare again—this time an all-clear signal. He joined the first group headed up the stairs, and once he’d left the church, he walked as fast as he dared. Pulse pounding, he crossed the bridge into a more familiar part of town. He passed the portal to the capital, Parthik, skirting the enforcers as they checked the people passing through. Normally the swirling vortices drew his attention, but today he hurried through the back streets to his apartment. Debendorf, may not have been the largest city in Patria, but it was close, and the buildings got pretty big where he lived. Climbing up the three flights of metal stairs, he reached the door. He locked it behind himself, barely keeping it together as he stumbled into his bathroom and pulled the hat from his head, revealing two horns half the size of his thumbs sticking up through his hair.
