Lukas woke up in a cot with stained grey sheets in a room that looked far from sterile. Stalls lined the wall to his left. Horses, bovines, and beasts he didn’t recognize stood in them, staring at him. Most had mouthfuls of hay or mud while the others’ maws dripped red. His nostrils burned and surprisingly little hurt when he moved.

“Oh, good.” A smiling bearded face looked down at him. Its owner was tall, stout, and wore a polished brass breastplate. He stoppered a vial and returned it to his pocket. A younger man stood next to him carrying a bucket. “The water won’t be necessary, Hump.”

“Aww,” Hump moaned, shoulders slouching. “I never get to splash the drunks.”

Lukas rubbed his nose and blew it, desperate to get rid of the burning that followed the use of smelling softs. “I'm up,” he said. “Water won't be necessary.”

“He isn’t a drunk,” a matronly woman grumbled, emerging from the stalls. She carried a bale of hay on her left shoulder. It seemed far too large and unwieldy for someone with her dimensions but she carried the load like it was no big deal. “I don't think I've seen blood cleaner in all my days. Lacking iron but no tea, liquor, or any other toxic traces.” She smacked the back of Hump's head as she joined them. “Be gentle with my patient or I’ll charge your family and employer full rates, Humphrey Jones.”

“Patient?!” Hump exclaimed. “This man is an infiltrator and a criminal.”

“He is in my infirmary. In my cot. That makes him my patient.”

“Listen here, you old bat—”

The older man smacked the back of hump’s head. “Vet or not, Miss Esther’s healing gifts are important to the guard.” His tone was stern. “If I were forced to choose between her discount rates and a snot-nosed cadet, the vet wins. Show her respect, or the drill sergeant will show you the bottom of his boot.”

“Maybe I should have a word with your Ma and Pa.” The vet sighed. “It was too early for you to leave the stables. Don’t you think so, Captain?”

“Wait. No—”

“Am I under arrest?” Lukas interrupted, sitting up. He hoped the new body had a natural, convincing poker face. It usually took years to develop one.

“Depends,” the guard captain answered. “We have questions, Mr Zaun. Your brother spun a tall tale and we need you to corroborate or make it somewhat believable.”

“He’s a liar,” Hump added, putting down the bucket and crossing his arms. “Chains and the stock. That’s what you deserve. The both of you.”

“Is that how you do things nowadays?” The vet asked. “Is the guard bullying poor, injured refugees, and throwing them in the prison for nothing?”

“It's not for nothing! They illegally entered the city with clearly stolen goods. These—”

“That’s enough, Hump,” the guard captain said, cutting him off. “Go wait outside before I assign you to latrine detail.”

The young man opened his mouth in protest but froze, eyes darting between Lukas and the older pair. He straightened up, clenched his jaw, and nodded. “Yes, Captain,” Hump said, standing at attention before marching out of the room.

“Spirited one, isn’t he?” The vet asked.

“I apologize for the chaos and behavior, Esther,” the captain replied. “The boy has a good heart and is passionate about the job. He’d be a perfect cadet if not for the temper.”

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“And the mouth. His mother should’ve washed it out with soap like I said.” Esther turned her attention to Lukas. “Are you up for an interrogation? Do you need anything?”

“Some water would be great,” Lukas answered. “Also. Can I see my brother?”

The guard captain brought over the bucket Humphrey intended to pour over Lukas. A wooden ladle with a long metal handle sat in it. “Drink up,” the man said. “As for your brother, it all depends on how the next few minutes go.”

Esther took the water away before Lukas could finish his third cup. “Too much water will make you sick. I’ll get you some bread and cheese once you and Stefan are done.”

“Thank you,” Lukas said as she marched away before turning his attention to Guard Captain Stefan. “How can I help you?”

“It’s more about helping yourself, Mr Zaun,” Stefan replied. He grabbed a milking stool and sat down next to the cot. “Your brother told us quite a story. Honestly, it was hard to believe and we’re in half a mind to write you off as thieves or bandits.” The man’s demeanor and tone remained casual and friendly, but the air about him shifted. “Why don’t you start with what happened to your head, your former employer, and how you ended up here?”

“Honestly? I don’t remember much at all. It's all just blank with random flashes.” Lukas rubbed the back of the head as he spoke, fingers lingering on the fresh scar. “If we didn’t look the same, I wouldn’t have known El was my brother.”

“Yes. We’ve seen identical head injuries. They’re not suspicious at all.” Stefan continued smiling but his words dripped with sarcasm. “Tell me your story. I don't have all day.”

Lukas shrugged. “We woke up in a mass grave next to a ritual circle.” The man’s glare paled in comparison to Lady Silverspine’s. Lukas's palms grew sweaty, but his expression remained casual. “Maybe that had something to do with it.”

“And you remember nothing about the supposed Wyrm Cultist attack?”

“I’m really sorry.” Lukas did his best to look embarrassed. “My mind is blank. I remember nothing before the grave. There were a bunch of us still alive in there.” He paused for a moment, pretending to focus. “Now that I think about it, there was an old lady with glowing sapphire eyes in there. I think she fixed us up and had us fashion rope with our clothes.”

“Keep going,” Stefan pressed when he paused. His unblinking stare failed to make Lukas squirm.

“We tried to sneak out of the grave and make a run for safety,” Lukas answered. “Barely anyone made it. Only embers and coal of almost everything but the manor, smithy, and the storehouse. There was little cover to protect us from all the arrows and magic.” Lukas's hand wandered to his left shoulder as he spoke. A fresh scab sat under the nightshirt. “The old lady used my blood to open the storehouse door. It was decent cover until the enchantments failed.”

“Are you sure she used your blood to open the locks?” Stefan retrieved a notebook from inside of his trousers and flipped through it, squinting. “It wasn’t some sort of spell?”

“I am. If it were just the once I wouldn't have thought so, but there was a pattern. She used my blood to open a hidden door in the storehouse too.”

“Anyway, the lady tried to fix up the people who were hiding in there but most had already frozen to death or were mostly gone. I don't know if that was true or if she hoped to conserve resources. We tried to take cover in the equipment room, but then the cultists blew through the enchantments with dragon fire.”

“Dragon fire?”

Lukas nodded. “That’s what the lady said, at least. She wasn’t dressed like the rest of us. She spoke differently, too.” He paused, massaging the bridge of his nose. “Now that I think about it, everybody listened and bowed when she talked even when they were pissing their pants. I just assumed she knew what she was talking about. So when she said dragon fire I believed her.”

“What happened next?”

“The cultists tortured her for information and killed her. I only understood her side of the conversation. The shaman was looking for some sort of weapon. Then, they dragged us under the manor to open up the vault that housed.” Lukas smiled weakly. “El and I got lucky, I think. The cultists’ shaman bled me to open it up. Her two assistants stayed back to watch us while she, her guard, and most of the accompanying force entered only to walk into a series of lightning spike traps.

“El ran in once they deactivated.” He realized then that he was speaking too quickly but ran with it, hoping Stefan would find him more convincing. “I grabbed whatever weapon I could reach and stabbed the two guarding us. They looked young and too shocked to react. Then when the others came running, I ran. El found a spell scroll stash and covered me.”

“You took down a pair of wyrmkin?” Stefan asked, making more notes. Surprise flashed across his face. Lukas almost missed it. He emphasized on the you, a hint of disbelief leaking into his tone. “How long have the pair of you been sharded?”