In the weeks following his confrontation with Vrag, the half-demon boy moved through the sve quarters with renewed caution. Overseer Vargus's interest had made him a target for increased scrutiny, and Vrag's humiliation had turned casual bullying into focused hatred.

  Despite these challenges, the boy's mind remained occupied with the fragments of memory that had surfaced during the fight. Though he couldn't access them at will, their brief emergence had changed him. Questions that had never occurred to him before now demanded answers.

  Who was he really? Why did his mind contain knowledge no sve child should possess? What were these strange images of glowing screens and devices that occasionally fshed through his thoughts?

  His need for answers drove him to take greater risks in his exploration of the sve quarters. If knowledge existed that could expin his condition, he was determined to find it.

  The western section of the sve quarters bordered an area used for storage of damaged or discarded items from the upper levels. Sves were assigned to sort through these castoffs, salvaging usable materials and disposing of true garbage. The boy had been assigned to this detail several times, but had never been allowed to venture beyond the sorting area.

  Today, he intended to change that.

  He had traded three polished stones to Drak for information about guard rotations in the western corridors. Another two stones purchased Se's promise to create a distraction if needed. His small network of allies was proving its worth.

  As the shift change approached, the boy slipped away from his assigned cleaning duty and made his way through rarely used corridors toward the restricted storage areas. He moved silently, keeping to shadows, counting his steps to match the timing Drak had provided.

  "Thirty heartbeats after the third bell," Drak had told him. "The guards change shifts. The western corridor remains unpatrolled for approximately one hundred heartbeats."

  The third bell echoed through the chambers. The boy pressed himself into an alcove, counting steadily. At precisely thirty beats, he heard the tramp of boots as guards marched away from their posts. He waited another ten beats to be certain, then darted across the open space to the heavy door that separated the sve quarters from the storage rooms.

  The lock was simple—designed to keep sves out through intimidation rather than security. Using a thin wire he had salvaged and straightened, he maniputed the mechanism as Se had taught him. After several tense moments, he felt the satisfying click of the lock releasing.

  Heart pounding, he slipped inside and eased the door closed behind him.

  The storage area was vast—far rger than he had imagined. Dimly lit by scattered magical lights embedded in the ceiling, it stretched into shadows in all directions. Mountains of discarded items formed irregur ndscapes: broken furniture, damaged tapestries, cracked pottery, and bent metal implements.

  And books. More books than he had ever seen, piled haphazardly or stuffed into sagging shelves.

  The sight nearly took his breath away. In the sve quarters, written materials were precious and rare. Here, they were treated as garbage.

  Moving quickly, aware that his window of opportunity was limited, the boy began searching through the nearest piles. Most of the books were in nguages he couldn't read, or too damaged to be useful. Others contained information that meant nothing to him—accounts of noble lineages, architectural pns for buildings he'd never seen, romantic poetry celebrating demonic beauty.

  Then, in a stack of water-damaged volumes, he found something promising: "Elemental Affinities in Mixed-Blood Offspring." Though partially ruined, enough pages remained intact to be legible.

  He tucked this find into his tattered shirt and continued searching. Time was running short, but he couldn't tear himself away from this treasure trove of knowledge.

  A second book caught his eye: "Fundamental Principles of Demonic Magic." This was a true prize—sves were expressly forbidden from learning anything about magical theory. The penalties for possessing such information were severe.

  He hesitated only briefly before adding it to his shirt.

  As he moved deeper into the storage area, a faint glow emanated from behind a pile of broken furniture. Curious, he changed direction, squeezing between a shattered cabinet and a stack of cracked marble sbs.

  In a small cleared space sat an unusual object—a crystal sphere about the size of his fist, mounted on a metal stand. The sphere emitted a soft blue light, illuminating the area around it. Inscribed on the base were symbols he couldn't read, but something about them tugged at his memory.

  The boy reached out cautiously. As his fingers approached the sphere, the light inside pulsed, responding to his presence. A tingling sensation ran up his arm, not unpleasant but strange.

  The sphere's glow suddenly intensified, and images appeared within its depths—star-like points of light connecting in complex patterns. The boy jerked his hand back in surprise, and the images vanished.

  Footsteps and voices from beyond the storage room yanked him back to reality. The guard change was complete; his time was up.

  Quickly, he wrapped the crystal sphere in a piece of discarded cloth and added it to his growing collection of contraband. It was risky to take so much at once, but he might never have this opportunity again.

  Retracing his steps, the boy made it back to the door just as the voices grew louder. He slipped out, eased the lock back into pce, and melted into the shadows of a service corridor moments before guards rounded the corner.

  His heart pounded as he made his way through rarely used passages back toward familiar territory. The weight of the books and crystal sphere pressed against his chest, both physical burden and promise of answers.

  The boy had discovered a forgotten ventition shaft behind the sve trines several months earlier. The shaft had been sealed off during renovations, creating a small space accessible only through a narrow gap behind a loose stone. He had gradually turned this hidden nook into his private sanctuary.

  Safely sealed inside this secret pce, he examined his stolen treasures under the light of a tiny oil mp made from salvaged materials.

  The first book, "Elemental Affinities in Mixed-Blood Offspring," contained detailed information about how demon-human hybrids inherited magical traits. Many pages were too water-damaged to read, but what remained was illuminating:

  "Half-blood demon children typically manifest weaker physical traits than pure-blooded counterparts, particurly in early development stages. However, magical potential often remains undiminished, merely deyed in expression. While pure-blooded demon children typically manifest elemental affinities by age five, half-bloods may show no magical signs until puberty or ter stress-inducing events."

  The boy read this passage several times. It suggested his physical weakness compared to full-demon children was normal for his mixed heritage. More importantly, it implied he might eventually develop magical abilities despite his current limitations.

  He turned to the second book, "Fundamental Principles of Demonic Magic." This volume was more challenging, filled with complex terminology and theoretical concepts. Yet strangely, parts of it felt familiar, as if he had encountered simir ideas before.

  One passage particurly caught his attention:

  "All demonic magic derives from internal energy reserves, colloquially known as 'Demonic Essence' or measured in units called 'Banes.' Every demon possesses a natural maximum capacity determined primarily by bloodline and caste. However, this capacity can be expanded through specific training techniques, ritual consumption of certain substances, or most commonly, through the Blood Bond process with a higher-caste demon."

  The text continued to expin how demons channeled this energy to produce magical effects—a process that involved visualization, will, and proper understanding of elemental principles.

  As he read, fragments of his locked memories stirred. The concepts reminded him of something... games? Systems with energy points and special abilities? The connections remained frustratingly vague, but the material felt less alien than it should have to a sve who had never received magical education.

  Finally, he turned his attention to the crystal sphere. In the confined space of his hiding pce, its soft blue glow seemed brighter. He unwrapped it carefully, studying the intricate metal base and the strange symbols inscribed there.

  When he touched the sphere again, the tingling sensation returned. The points of light reappeared inside, forming complex patterns like consteltions or a three-dimensional map. As he continued to touch the sphere, the lights shifted, as if responding to his thoughts.

  Somehow, he knew this was a teaching tool—something designed to help visualize magical energy flows. Such devices were typically used only by noble students under instructor supervision. How it had ended up in the discards, he couldn't guess, but its functionality appeared intact.

  For hours, the boy remained in his hiding pce, alternating between reading the books and experimenting with the crystal sphere. Though much of the information remained beyond his current understanding, he sensed its importance. These weren't just interesting discoveries; they were keys to unlocking his true potential.

  Most significantly, the books confirmed what he had begun to suspect: his mixed blood was the reason for his physical weakness, but also potentially the source of unique abilities. If he could learn to access and control demonic magic despite his sve status, he might have a chance at something more than mere survival.

  As exhaustion finally overcame curiosity, the boy carefully concealed his treasures in a space he had created behind a loose stone. He would need to find a better hiding pce soon—one rge enough for his growing collection of forbidden knowledge.

  Before leaving his sanctuary, he practiced the simple meditation technique described in the magic primer. Though he felt no immediate change, the book had emphasized that consistent practice was essential for progress.

  "I'm not just a sve," he whispered to himself as he prepared to return to the common sleeping area. "I'm something more."

  The thought sustained him as he slipped through the darkness, back to his pce among the other thralls. For the first time, he allowed himself to consider a future beyond the sve quarters—a future where knowledge might elevate him beyond the limitations of his birth.

  He didn't yet understand why these fragments of strange memories existed in his mind, or why certain concepts felt familiar when he should have no way of knowing them. But he was determined to find out.

  The half-demon boy had always been focused on survival. Now, he had a new purpose: understanding. And with understanding might come power—the power to change his fate.