Vix wasn’t cut out for prison. Luckily, he wasn’t in prison, per say - not yet, anyway - he was in jail. Upper Rattwater Jail, to be specific, which was also quite a lucky break.

See, Lower Rattwater was reserved for those unsavory characters accused of the really bad crimes: thievery, arson, unlawful beaverbear relations. That sort of thing. Of course, there were plenty of good people there (wealth imbalance correctors come to mind) but by and large, it was no place for a guy like Vix.

Not that Upper Rattwater was much better. You know what the most common crime allegedly committed by those in Upper Rattwater was? That’s right, piracy. And not the milktoast naval variety either. Big time, real deal, mystic vision piracy. Anyone who would steal the intellectual property of a hard-working psychic trying to make ends meet belongs in the slammer with the worst of them. You wouldn’t telepathically transmit a cart, would you? I thought so, you scumbag.

“This way, everyone,” the guard captain said, walking through the entryway. Despite the janitor at the door, the walls held more grime than Vix had seen in his entire life, and the stench of the place was somehow even worse. Still, he knew better than to squander the opportunity of a new experience, so he stuck his eyes and nose out and drank it in.

They came to the front desk, helmed by an old lady.

“Hello there, captain,” she said. “Everything ok, I hope?”

“Hello, Dolores,” the captain said. He winked.

“Who have you brought in today? Another group of thieves?”

“No, Dolores, worse than that. We found them taming a werebear.”

“Oh, dear. I’m sure it was difficult to capture them. Good work, captain.”

“Listen babe, we need clearance for the holding facility. And make it snappy, would ya?” The captain slammed his open palm on the desk with an unnerving amount of apathy. Dolores flinched.

v “Hey man, that’s not cool,” Voolio said.

“Yeah, copper! Leave her alone!” Hob yelled, only held back by a pair of guards.

“Listen, Dolores, they’re real low-lifes. Real street trash. Get that clearance up quick now.”

“I’m sorry, captain, the holding facility’s full to capacity,” Dolores said. “You’ll have to-”

“I’ll have to what?” the captain yelled. “Don’t tell me what to do!”

“Y-you’ll have to send them to the cells, sir,” she said, almost to the point of tears.

Vix, feeling another shout coming on, thought fast. Faster than he’d ever thought before. With a quiet snap of his fingers, the janitor’s grimy water bucket lifted off the ground and floated behind the captain’s back. Only Salman gave Vix a nod of recognition.

“Isn’t that great?” the captain yelled. “Just what I needed today, more incompetence! Dolores, you are a failure to all of us! You are mud under my boot! You are-”

Splash.

“Dry,” Dolores said, winking to Vix. Everyone at least tried to contain their laughter. Everyone, that is, but Hob and Gob, who fell to the floor cackling. The captain’s face turned bright red under his emerald helmet, twisting and contorting into inhuman shapes.

“Oh, and captain, sir,” Dolores said, pulling a parchment out from under her desk. “Your wife brought this in earlier today while you were out. She told me to give it to you right away, sir.” Now, Vix couldn’t read much, but few words can be mistaken for divorce. The captain’s face grew redder still. Then, a voice came from down the hall:

“Captain! Captain Jazol! News from the warden for you!” Out from a side hallway came a young guard. “Sir, the warden told me to relay a message to you. It was about your promotion appeal. He said… oh, what was it? Oh yeah, he denied it and… you’ve been demoted instead! You’re a sergeant again.” He looked satisfied with himself and walked back the way he came. A moment of silence. A pin dropped. The jail’s seamstress apologized. Another moment of silence.

“What?” the sergeant yelled. “Demoted? That dung slug! That mouth-breather! That disgrace!”

“Is right here, I’m afraid.” An old man stepped out of the side hallway, tipping his hat.

“W-warden!” the captain said. He stood to attention with the other guards.

“Hugh,” the warden said, stepping up to him, “your performance in these last years has steadily fallen beyond what I thought was possible. You have consistently made a mockery of Upper Rattwater Jail and you have only served to prove it today. But, I do not stand by my decision. In fact,” he said, stepping as close as he could to the sergeant, “I’ve decided to amend it. Hugh, you are relieved of duty. Dismissed.”

“But-”

“Permanently.”

Then came another entrant, this time through the front door. He said:

“Is there a Hugh Jazol in the house? Oh, sorry, bad wording. Mister Jazol, I’m afraid your house has been burned down by a now contained fire in the middle district.”

Eventually, the warden got another guard to lead them to the cellblock. It was a single hallway with bars on either side, all penetrated by skinny, tattooless arms. One by one, the guard opened each cell door, ushering a member of the group in. Soon, only Vix was left.

“End’a the line, pal,” the guard said, opening the next door for him.

Vix stepped inside his spotless new cell. There was a man on the mattress.

“Hold up, buddy,” the guard said. He unlocked the handcuffs Vix had been given in the forest. He forgot they were there, but now that they were gone, it felt as if a piece of his very being had been shed. “We’re outta cells so you got a cellmate. Good luck.” The guard slammed the cell door shut and walked away.

Vix surveyed the room the best he could, finding a small, barred window and a sewage hole, but his eyes were drawn to the man. He wasn’t the prison type, same as Vix, and skinny like all the other inmates.

“Hello there,” he said, smiling.

“Hi.”

“Wanna see a trick?”

“What kinda trick?

“Oh y’know, a magic trick.” He pulled a deck of cards out of the pocket of his black and white striped jumpsuit, fanning them out. Vix sat on the bed and picked a card from the middle. “Ok, look at it, memorize it, but don’t tell me what it is.”

King of Emeralds.

“Got it? Alright, I’ll put it back in the deck.” He shuffled and placed the cards on the bed, smearing them around. “Now, sir, if you were to guess, which card is yours?”

“I don’t know.” He didn’t.

“Then choose whichever one speaks to you. Any one at all.” Vix tapped a card at random. “Good, I’ll mark this one.” He stuck a finger into the mortar between two bricks in the wall behind the bed and pressed it in the back of the card, leaving a grey smudge. “You, too. And make it any shape you like. The more intricate, the better.” Vix poked the wall and drew a smiley face on the card with his finger.

“Is that ok?” he asked, mimicking his drawing.

“Yes, yes, that’s perfect. Now, we’ll shuffle the deck again and oh! It’s gone!”

Vix searched the pile, including the spot where it had just been, but it was gone.

“Where’d it go?” he asked. No more than five seconds had passed since he’d seen it last.

“I don’t know. Oh, wait!” The man reached back to the spot in the mortar where they’d taken their writing material and sure enough, there was a card sticking out of the wall, all folded up.

“How’d that get there?” Vix asked.

“I’m not sure,” the man said, smiling. He grabbed and unfolded it, showing Vix every little movement as he did. The last unfold revealed, to Vix’s astonishment, the King of Emeralds. “Wow, and look at this!” The man flipped it to show the smudge and smiley face on the back. “This must be your card!”

“It is!” Vix said, taking it as the man offered it to him. “How’d you do that?”

“Magic.”

“Oh, magic! I can do magic, too.” The hand that held the card started to glow yellow and purple. The man’s jaw dropped.

“You can do magic?” he asked.

“Mhm,” Vix said, Lighting his other hand.

“Wow, that must be something, huh?”

“Mhm! Wait, you can do magic, too!”

“Not like that, I can’t.” He stared at Vix’s hands in awe.

“Why not?” Vix asked, dimming the Light.

“Oh, you see, I’m just a magician.” The man did a sitting bow. “The name’s Milo. Milo Magic.”

“I’m Vix. Vix the Fallen. Why are you here? You should be doing magic all over the place!”

“Ah, they thought I was doing real magic outside the market a few days ago. I pulled a rabbit out of a hat and a guard saw. Charged me with public magery. That’s how I got here. No one believes me, either. Guess I should take it as a compliment.”

“Sounds like a bad time,” Vix said. “I’m here with my buddies ‘cause we tamed a werebear. Well, one of us did.”

“Tame a werebear?” Milo asked, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t know that was a thing one could do.”

“Yeah, Balder’s the one who did it. Weird guy.”

“I’d like to meet him, if I could,” Milo said, putting away the cards. “Not everyday that you hear about, what, a mere man bringing back a werebear?”

“We do all kinds of crazy stuff,” Vix said. “Right before Balder did that, our friend Salman killed five guys in one second. Oh, here’s Dylk. Hi, Dylk!”

Dylk was at the door, being escorted by a guard.

“Wait, what did you say?” Milo asked.

“I said oh, here’s Dylk,” Vix said, standing up. “And here he is!”

“Hi, Vix,” Dylk said. “You holding up ok?”

“I’m doing great! I made a friend. His name’s Milo. He’s a magician.”

“A magician? Aren’t you a magician, Vix?”

“No, I can do real magic. Milo’s great at tricks, though.”

“Hi there, sir,” Milo said, still shaken by something.

“Hi. While I’m glad to have met a normal person around here, we have a situation,” Dylk said, sitting on the bed. “Because of Dennish legal systems I don’t really understand, I have to represent us in court. I need to build a case for us. Vix, this is important. This is the most important thing we’ve ever done. They said,” he said, lowering his voice, “they said that if the judges think we’re guilty…

“They’ll kill us.

“So, I need to build a case like our lives depend on it. You’re the first person I’m talking to. Vix,” he said, grabbing Vix by the shoulders, “this is life or death here. I need you to tell me you remember something from the fight. Or something from the water and Tunk and all that stuff. I need anything I can get my hands on. I need information for the case or we’re all gonna die. So,” he said, letting go of Vix, “whaddaya got?”

“I…” Vix said, pausing to think. “I… forgot what we were talking about just now. Could you go over it one more time, Dylk?”