Anabelle looked out the window of the room. The young children all sat in a field, guided by a single adult mage. He held a staff in his right hand, the children held smaller ones of similar design. The adult waved the staff in a circular formation, and from his feet, a flower bloomed entirely. All the children broke their formation to admire it up close.

“Ezra, is that magic?” Anabelle asked the young man who was sitting impatiently for Irene to return. He let his anger go away to attend to her.

“That is magic. This village seems to be secluded from the rest of the Freelands. That barrier was impressive. This whole place is based around magic. Teaching it, studying it, even using it to hide. To top it off, that woman has my sword.”

“Is there something special about it?”

“There is. It’s imbued with a spell that counteracts magic. I don't know how, and it seems not even my dad knows. I discovered it a few months back. I was hoping to find someone that could explain it to me.” Ezra laid down on the bed. Anabelle continued to look through the glass. His eyes started to feel heavy, the sounds of the outside people helping him doze off. This was interrupted by Irene’s large footsteps charging down the hall. Ezra’s eyes fell back open. He jumped towards the door. Looking through the doors square hole he saw her and other smaller mages carrying a younger man down the hall. Their staves emitted tethers that bind him inside a sphere suspended in mid air. The door flung open, and Ezra fell to the ground. A tether picked him up and threw him back inside. The other young man was dropped in as well.

“Don’t even think about trying to leave this time. I’m sick of your game boy.” Irene scolded her captee.

“Can I think about when I can leave? Or how about my weapon?” Ezra asked as Irene turned her back. Her face remained away from him.

“We will speak in the morning.” Ezra’s hands clenched until his knuckles began to change shade. His eyes marked with anger. He refused to stay where he was and allowed this woman to have his way with him. He dashed towards the door and sent his fist into it, only to be propelled back a great distance into the following wall. Where his body jumped off again and onto the ground. The same barrier from outside the village revealed itself. Irene continued away from the room, and Ezra felt defeated. He let out a hard scream. Anabelle saw the others outside react to this. The children all grew faces of fear.

“Give it up brother. That barrier isn’t easy to break.” the other boy said to him. Ezra looked to the other as he laid face first on the carpet. His brown hair and attire similar to the others was all he could make of him.

“If I had my sword. I’m sure I could get out of here.” Ezra replied, going to Anabelle.

“Well. This is nothing new. Try to leave. Get thrown in Irene’s time out corner. I’ll be out by morning. Same old same old.” Ezra was confused at his words.

“What’s your name?” The two stared at each other silently, awaiting one’s next word.

“Nicholai. And you don’t look like anyone from here.”

“Ezra. I was outside the village a couple hours ago. Now things are different. Let’s hope morning comes and I can get out of this place. So how did you end up here? I like a woman who deals in magic, but that one looks like she would rather kill with her bare hands than that staff.” Ezra said to him.

“What’s up with the horse and why is it in the building?” Nicholai pointed to Anabelle in confusion.

“Oh. This is Anabelle we were captured together. Now we're waiting together.” Nicholai got up and moved over to one the book shelves. Ezra stayed away from reading never seemed his hobby, unless it involved adventures or treasure. He pulled a blue book and sat in front of the book shelf and began reading to himself. “Hey, since we got some alone time maybe you can tell me a few things?”

“Hey don’t expect me to spill any village secrets.” Nicholai responded not even looking up from the book.

“I don’t need that. I’m more curious about the surface level of this place. Why does everyone dress the same? It’s rather obvious that you all are mages or sorcerers of some kind. Plus I thought magic could be casted without staves, so why is everyone here using them?” Ezra numerous questions made Nicholai acknowledge him and remove his face from the pages.

“Well. Since you're so eager. This place is called Fayspell. And as you saw were a village that hides from the rest of the world. I don’t know why, but everyone is told never to leave the village.” Nicholai began.

“That’s where you differ.” Ezra guessed.

“Pretty much. My old man left, figured I better follow in his steps. Everybody dresses the same just because. I honestly don’t know why we dress like this. It’s not bad, but it’s our only attire.”

“So what about the staves?” Ezra asked again.

“That. You do know magic can be used multiple ways. Some use staff, some don't. However staves allow for better power conduction. So that's why we use them.” Nicholai completed Ezra’s personal survey. Once again the two sat in silence. Nicholai read his book, Ezra stood with Anabelle. Both locked in a room together until Irene felt her need to let them go. Yet both were planning their ways out.

Ezra felt time would not flow as he wanted. Something needed to be done in the meantime. His meditating. A task that his father makes the other Dracions do to harness their power and keep it naturally flowing through him at all time.

He assumed the natural position. His legs crossed and hands down in his lap. Anabelle took quick notice. She moved to his location and sat herself down as well. A red aura shined around his body. Nicholai started to glare as well, but immediately stopped and turned back to his book. Anabelle could feel his magic power stabilizing. Protecting himself from outside forces. Perhaps Nicholai was planted by Irene to spy on Ezra and learn more about him. Yet he asked no questions yet.

Nicholai started to feel the change in energy around him. The air itself felt like it was moving in all directions, and everything started to gain its own power. The book he held became less and object and slightly more alive.

“What is he doing? Is this the power of Virtue?” Nicholai asked himself. A power like this didn’t exist within the village. The concept alone just felt inhuman, and maybe that may just be what it was.