My educational session went surprisingly well. My long night of studying had paid off when I got my test grade back to see a perfect score. Even stone-faced Patrick couldn't keep his composure as an astonished look crossed his face. The satisfaction of seeing his bewilderment was the motivation I needed, and I vowed to ace every test from that point forward.

But my day went downhill once I met with Micah that afternoon. I was in a great mood, proud of my successful day, but this didn't last long once Micah started his usual lecture. I was no closer to performing magic that day than I had been for the last several months. By the end of the lesson I felt depreciated, despite everything that I had accomplished that morning.

As Micah and I walked back to the square after our lesson, we noticed a large group of people crowding around the base of the Commander's tower.

"What's going on?" Micah asked a young woman.

She didn't say anything, but pointed to the top of the tower where a small boy was standing a little too close to the ledge. I let out a gasp when I saw him balancing precariously on the railing, looking as though he were about to jump.

"Why isn't anyone doing anything?" i asked, looking around at the protectors who seemed rooted to their spot. Wasn't it their job to stop things like this from happening?

I ran forward, eager to help the young boy before he can step over the railing. But before I could get to him, a sharp pain shot through my body, as I was thrown back onto the ground by an invisible force field.

"There's a magical barrier keeping everyone at least ten yards away," one of the protectors said, helping me to my feet.

Now you tell me, I thought to myself, rubbing the spot on my arm where the barricade had electrocuted me.

The click of the PA system turning on resonated around us, and the young boy's voice echoed through the city.

"Mortem, metum, miseriae. Mortem, metum, miseriae," the boy said over and over, his voice monotone and detached.

"What's he saying?" I asked.

"Death, fear, misery," Micah replied, his eyes widening in alarm.

"We know the prophesized one is in your midst, being shielded by your strength," the boy continued. "I may not be able to cross the threshold of your gates, but I can cross the threshold of your minds. Give her to me, your King, and you shall be spared. Refuse, and you shall die one by one until no one is left to protect her."

Gasps echoed through the crowd as every eye turned to look at me. I felt my heart accelerate. Micah tensed beside me, ready to fight anyone who might take the King up on his offer.

"Mortem, metum, miseriae," the boy repeated continuously. The mantra was interrupted by a scream from the crowd as he stepped off of the ledge.

Time seemed to slow down as dozens of protectors lurched forward, trying to catch the child before he could hit the ground. But the barrier did its job well, and they are thrown backward with every attempt. No matter how hard the protectors tried, they couldn't get to him in time.

The deafening sound reverberated through the square as his small body hit the ground, falling into an unconscious heap.

The sound of the boy's impact seemed to echo through the air. I was frozen in place as I stared at his broken body lying just feet away. Others in the square ran forward, finally unrestricted by the magical boundary that was containing them, but I couldn't find the ability to move.

Dennis rushed to the boy's side and began mending his wounds, but I could tell from the amount of blood pooling around him and the way his bones were contorted that the boy was beyond saving. The King wanted to send a message, and he sent it effectively- help me, and you will die.

"Micah. Alexis. My office... now!" the deep voice of Commander Nero boomed through the square.

It took all of my willpower to pull my gaze from the dead boy, his clouded eyes staring accusingly at me. Micah tugged impatiently at my arm, and I followed in a daze as we climbed the stairs to the Commander's tower, the boy's face still etched into my memory.
We walked into Commander Nero's office and sat in rigid black chairs across from his desk. The idea that the boy had jumped to his death just a few feet from here caused my stomach to give a guilty heave. This entire thing was my fault. If I wasn't hiding in Tueri, King Casimir wouldn't be targeting innocent children right now.

"What do you know about this?" the Commander asked, looking from me to Micah.

"We don't know anything. The kid was about to jump by the time that we got to the square," Micah answered.

"I don't understand why he would do this. Nathaniel was one of our brightest second level kids," the Commander said, rubbing his forehead and sighing.

"Well, it's obvious isn't it," I mumbled, my voice deadened. "The King caused him to commit suicide. He was sending me a warning."

The room went quiet as they absorbed my words.

"We don't know that, Alexis," Micah said, but his words were unconvincing.

"Don't we, though? Nathanial said it himself, or rather, King Casimir said it through him."

Micah shook his head. "That's impossible. It would take too much energy for the King to use mind control all the way from Cattious. That level of magic would kill him."

"Unless he's more powerful than everyone thought," I said, the idea making me want to faint. We sat in silence and I could tell by the expressions on their faces that that Micah and Commander Nero were also worried that this might be true.

"Sir, we have breaking news!" Sage said, bursting into the office. "Oh, sorry Commander. I should have knocked."

"Yes, you should have," Commander Nero chastised. "Please proceed with your 'breaking news', soldier."

"Sir, with all due respect, this is sensitive information," Sage said, looking pointedly at me.

"Like it or not, soldier, Alexis plays a major role in this battle, and she needs to know what's going on as much as you or I do," he said. "Now, I'm not going to ask you again, continue with your information."

"Yes, sir," Sage said, closing the door behind her. "One of our undercover agents has acquired intel involving the King's movements. We think he's in route, but to where, we're not sure," she said, concern etched into her face.

She walked to the Commander's desk and set down a paper. It was a black and white photograph showing a large crowd of people, so many that it seemed almost impossible to focus your eyes on just one person. Some of them were wearing civilian clothes, but others were dressed in thick, high-tech combat armor made of much better quality than those of the protectors.

"Any idea which of them might be the King?" Commander Nero said.

"You don't know what he looks like?" I asked, astonished.

"No, we do not," the Commander admitted begrudgingly. "There has been speculation, but no concrete information. King Casimir has done an exceptionally good job at keeping his identity a secret."

"Until now anyway. We have reliable evidence that this is the King," Sage said, pointing to the photo.

I stared at the person she indicated. It was a young man who looked a couple of years younger than me with short, blonde hair, standing among a group of important military leaders, all engaged in deep conversation.

"You're joking, right?" Micah asked in disbelief. "He's just a child! There's no way that this kid is the biggest force of darkness that our world has ever seen. He's barely old enough to tie his own shoelaces!"

"He doesn't look that much younger than your witch there," Sage said, affronted by his uncertainty.

They continued fussing back and forth, arguing the validity of the information Sage had received, but I wasn't paying attention to them. I was mesmerized by the man in the photo. Was this the King? I had been inside of his head for months now, but I had never looked at him from this perspective. The King could have been any of the dozens of men in the picture, and I wouldn't know the difference.

"Enough!" Commander Nero's voice thundered, causing me to jump. He was clearly getting tired of Micah and Sage's bickering. "Soldier," he said, addressing Sage. "How confident are you in your agent's information?"

"I am very confident, sir."

"And you find it unlikely that your source has been compromised?"

"No, sir, I don't think my source has turned rogue."

The Commander contemplated the idea for a minute, before coming to a decision. "We're moving forward under the assumption that this information is accurate," he said.

Micah tried to argue, but Commander Nero cut him off with an authoritative glare. "Brief all of the soldiers with this update. Send messengers to those in the field, and make sure they know not to approach the target without my approval. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Sage said.

"Dismissed. All of you," Commander Nero said, waving us out as he picked up the photo for a better look.

"Thanks for your support in there," Sage muttered cynically, walking away before Micah had the opportunity to respond. He let out a deep groan of frustration, before we headed back to our bunk.

"I don't know what she expected me to do. I can't just agree with her without voicing my concerns. There are a lot of lives at stake here," Micah complained, but I wasn't paying attention. My mind was still on King Casimir. "Alexis?" Micah asked, annoyance in his voice.

"I feel like I know him," I admitted.

"Who?" Micah asked, looking around.

"The man in the picture. The one they think might be the King."

"That's unlikely," Micah snorted. "Like the Commander said, the King rarely shows his face. You wouldn't have met him, and if you had, I doubt you'd be alive to tell it."

I shook my head. I just couldn't let shake off the nagging feeling that I was right.

"I've seen him, I just know it. If only I could remember..." I trailed off, stopping dead in my tracks.

Then it hit me. I recalled my first vision of King Casimir. It felt like ages ago, just one image lost in the dozens of dreams that filled my mind lately. This one stuck out, however, because it was the only time that I was connected to the King's mind as a third party participant, someone from the outside looking in. I vaguely remembered standing in the midst of his castle, watching the blonde man sitting on the throne before me.

The recollections were blurry, having distorted as the months had passed. Although I hadn't realized it at the time, I understood now that the man I'd seen on the throne was King Casimir all along. From the very beginning I had been connected to him without even being aware of it. I knew immediately that Sage was right- the man in the picture was unquestionably King Casimir, outside of his castle for the first time, possibly ever. He was on the move.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Micah asked, concerned by the frightened look on my face. The blood had drained from my face, and I felt as if I might faint.

"The dreams..."

"What dreams?" Micah asked, incredulous. "I thought you were done with that. Why haven't you told me that they had returned?"

"Never mind that, Micah!" I exclaimed, pure panic in my voice. "Sage is right. That man is the King."

"You can't know for sure that that's him," Micah said, uncertain as he tried to rationalize what I was saying.

"I am one hundred percent sure that it's him, Micah. Trust me, I would know that face anywhere," I said gravely.

Micah, startled by the severity in' my voice, began searching the square as though someone might be listening. Without a word, he grabbed me by the hand and pulled me quickly, forcefully, the rest of the way to our bunk. Normally I would complain at his aggressiveness, but I was too numb with terror to notice. I was petrified, not only of things around me, but of what was happening in my own head.

When we reached our bunk, Micah pulled me inside, shutting and locking the door behind us.

"Well, it's about time you two showed up. I was beginning to worry," Fletcher said, closing the book he'd been reading. His smile quickly faded when he noticed our faces. "What's wrong?"

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© Dawn Norwell