The capital of Marbella kingdom was unlike anything the three other-worlders expected. Compared to the Perriman dutchy, the city of Minrez looked a hundred years more advanced.

  Streets made of polished cobblestone, each with a well-maintained drainage system designed to perfectly blend with the city's aesthetic. Broad main streets connected important parts of the city, like the town square, where various guilds and taverns were located, the always bustling market, the park and finally the royal palace itself, which stood higher than any other building in Minrez, overlooking the capital from its very heart. As for the rest of the buildings, some rose as high as three stories and were mostly located in the city’s financial district. During the day the city would shine with a beautiful mixture of white, gold and blue, while at night ornamental street lights would leave no corner for the shadows to hide in.

  The absence of torches is what fascinated the men most, even the garrison and the watchtowers atop the city’s walls were illuminated by these lamps. It reminded Jeremy of his senior year in high school, when he was abroad in Prague for a week.

  A truly breath-taking sight to behold each day and the soldiers had the special privilege of observing it through the barred windows of their cells, situated atop the highest floor of the prison tower they were being held in, right next to the palace itself.

  They had spent the past several days annoying the guards with almost never-ending questions about the town, the royal family, the queen and the townsfolk, but as neither they nor the guards wore any translator stones, their questions remained unanswered.

  What surprised them most was the treatment they received by the guards. Be it morning watch, noon or night watch, the guards were instructed to keep their distance and treat the three men with as much respect and decency one could offer to a prisoner. They were being well fed three times a day, and splashed with buckets of lukewarm water every other day as a form of bathing. As thanks, Clyde stopped terrorizing the guards every night, no longer bending the bars on his cell door and grabbing the first guard that got too close to see what was going on.

  It was on the fifth day of their vacation in the Minrez prison tower that the other-worlders met Savik, a newbie guard assigned to night watch after the previous guard tragically perished while helping the royal artificer learn how the weapons they commandeered from the three men worked.

  Savik, no older than twenty by the looks of it, was as curious and eager to talk to the men as they were to talk to him. One night he smuggled a translator stone in his uniform, waiting for other guards to leave before attaching it to his chestplate. He nervously tapped it a few times, watching it twinkle with each tap, before approaching Jeremy’s holding cell.

  “Hello? Can you hear me? Ahem, I mean, you can hear me, obviously, but can you understand me?” the young guard asked, tripping over his words.

  The soldiers sat up in their bunks, turning to look at him.

  “You’ve got a translator stone, neat.” Said Clyde, being the first to get up.

  “You know what this is?” Savik asked, looking at the stone that was placed on the left side of his chest, being no bigger than a button.

  “Yeah, we’ve encountered them before. Hell, we’ve worn them ourselves, how do you think we talked to Perriman?” the massive Warhound replied, approaching the door of his cell.

  The guard craned his neck looking upwards, trying to maintain eye contact with the soldier. The two stood mere feet from each other, the only barrier between them being easily bendable cell bars.

  “So, whaddaya want?” continued Clyde.

  “Oh, nothing. Just to talk, that’s all.” Savik replied.

  “This some form of benevolent interrogation?” chuckled Marcel from his bunk.

  “Interrogation? No, no, I swear. I am in no way authorized to interrogate anyone. I’d probably get demoted back to cleaning the stables if anyone caught me even talking to you.”

  Clyde looked down on the guard and raised an eyebrow, gauging if the man was lying or not.

  “My father works with the royal artificer, he’s so fascinated by your tools and weapons and, well, you overall. No shame in admitting his curiosity has infected me as well.” The guard continued speaking, never looking away as if he worried that somehow might get interpreted as a sign of dishonesty.

  “Ah, no wonder you’ve been given such a cushy position at the very top of this tower, looking over this amazing city each night. Nepotism really is a multiversal standard.” Laughed the mountain of a man while going back to sit on his bed.

  Before Savik could defend himself and argue that his current position had nothing to do with his father, Clyde asked him a question.

  “The lamps, how do they work? You guys discovered electricity?”

  The guard smiled, grabbing a chair and sitting down in front of the cell, delighted to answer the question.

  “They are powered by low purity mana crystals. You take the crystal, inscribe a quick illumination spell on it and boom, light.”

  “Really? Just like that?” Jeremy joined in on the conversation.

  “Mhm.”

  “Why low purity crystals though?”

  “Well, it would be a waste to use anything higher and low purity is easiest to come by, hence also the cheapest.”

  Clyde rubbed his chin, thinking for a moment, fascinated by the explanation.

  “So, if someone used a higher purity crystal, they’d get more light or the same amount?”

  “That’s entirely dependent on the spell inscribed on the crystal. I mean, higher purity crystals have more mana, but that would be a waste of crystal.” Savik replied.

  “Can’t they be repurposed? You know, scrape off the inscription and slap on a new one?” the large soldier continued.

  The young guard just shook his head.

  “Once the spell is infused with the crystal’s mana, it can’t be removed.”

  “What is the difference in purity?” Marcel asked.

  Out of the three men, Savik enjoyed Marcel’s voice the most. Though the man did not speak often, even to his comrades, his accent made his words a delight to hear.

  “Excess mana in the world is what causes the mana crystals to form. They are pure mana, solid mana, I guess you could call them that. The more potent the mana, the higher the purity of the crystals. There can be impurities in the crystals, however, the same way there can be impurities in gold or silver.” The guard explained.

  The three men exchanged looks and nodded, before Jeremy leaned a bit closer.

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  “So, if they’re made by mana, why not just hire mages or something to release mana until a crystal forms?”

  Savik laughed, fascinated by the question.

  “Oh, that wouldn’t be possible. Mana crystals contain mana without any resonance, that’s not something any living creature can exude, no matter how powerful. Plus, you can take every mage in the royal palace, combine them and their mana still wouldn’t even reach the amount found in a pure mana crystal.”

  “Resonance? What’s that?” Clyde gave the guard a puzzled look.

  The guard rubbed his helmet, not sure how to explain what it was himself.

  “A sort of, uhm, a sort of effect, influence, you know? It’s not tainted, but it’s just not the same as raw mana. Ugh, fuck, I don’t really know how to explain it myself to be honest.”

  All four of them sat in silence for a moment, brainstorming what the best possible word would be for the thing Savik was trying to explain. Finally, Jeremy snapped his fingers.

  “Signature!”

  “What?” Clyde looked at him and shook his head, still not understanding.

  “A signature. Living things have mana tailored to them, like a signature that it’s living thing mana.” Jeremy explained, moving his hands around the air as if drawing up an image for the other three men.

  “Yes. Exactly. Raw mana is not tailored to anything, so it doesn’t have a signature.” Savik said with a grin.

  “I see, I see.” Clyde nodded.

  “You have no clue what he means.” Marcel sneered.

  “No, no, I get it. Living things plus mana means signature. No living things means no signature. See? I get it, now fuck off Hannibal.” Clyde frowned and waved the man off.

  “So, by imbuing mana crystals with your mana, you’re basically giving the crystal’s mana a signature and a function. That’s why you can’t undo that process, right?” Jeremy asked Savik.

  “Correct. You guys catch on fast.” The guard replied.

  “Ehh, it’s not an impossible to imagine concept.” The soldier waved him off, not letting the compliment stroke his ego too much.

  “What do you use on your world to create light?”

  “FIIREEE!” Clyde roared, raising both his arms into the air, startling the young guard.

  “Settle down, Flintstone, you’re gonna scare the guy to death.” Jeremy kicked his friend nonchalantly, before turning to Savik.

  “We use electricity. What you did with raw mana, we did with lightning basically.” He continued.

  “Fascinating.” The guard whispered, before suddenly jumping from his chair as if it were lit on fire under him.

  “Hold on! I just remembered something. You guys are immune to magic, right?”

  “Yeah, why?” Jeremy asked, not feeling too enthusiastic about the look on Savik’s face.

  “My father’s been going on and on since you guys got here, saying how it’s impossible that someone could be immune to magic. Can I PLEASE see for myself if you really are immune?”

  “Uh, won’t you get in trouble for that?” The middle soldier tried dissuading him from the idea.

  “You’re a mage?” Clyde asked, getting up from his bed.

  “No, no. I’m not a mage at all. I can only use a few basic spells. My mana is too low for me to be considered a mage.”

  “Well, he ain’t a mage, so I guess we have nothing to worry about.” The largest of the three soldiers continued, walking over to the bars.

  “Clyde, it’s after midnight. You heard what the psycho bitch with the sword said a few days ago. If you keep fucking with the night guards, they will transfer us to the basement.” Jeremy sighed, trying his best to stop whatever was about to be set into motion.

  “Okay, okay, shut up.” Clyde waved him off, before focusing his attention back on the guard.

  “Can you blow this cell up?”

  “What? No, no, I’m nowhere near that strong.” Savik shook both his hands.

  “So, what CAN you do?”

  “I can cast Stun Light. Basic spell used by guards to subdue rowdy drunkards and thieves or inmates. Stuns them so they can’t run away.” Explained the young guard, hoping the description wouldn’t discourage the tall Warhound from agreeing to his little test.

  “Alright, so. I’m going to walk up to the bars and you have to stun me so I don’t bend them open and do unspeakable things to you.”

  “What?”

  Without another word Clyde lunged at the bars and began to pull on them like an ape trying to escape its enclosure, while making the most hideous face his muscles could contort into.

  Savik jumped, as the cell rattled and shook violently. Marcel rolled over in bed laughing and Jeremy just rubbed his forehead. The guard just looked at the exasperated soldier, as if wordlessly asking him what to do.

  “Hey, you wanted this. No backing away now. Better hurry, the bars don’t look like they’re gonna hold.” Jeremy said, unable to keep a straight face as Clyde was going primal on the bars.

  “I don’t wanna hurt him.” Replied Savik, glancing between Jeremy and Clyde.

  “He’ll be fine.”

  “Yeah, do it. Straight to my chest. DO IT! C’MON, YOU A MAN?!” The behemoth of a man roared, the bars creaking and bending.

  The atmosphere of stupid decisions was quickly reaching critical mass, the tidal wave of peer pressure sweeping Savik off his feet. He grinned and extended his hand, holding a small trinket in the other, before mumbling a quick chant. A flash of light illuminated the cells like the first rays of sun at dawn, followed by a loud “bang”, that echoed through the empty tower floor. The guard's eyes widened when he saw that his spell, which was supposed to have the prisoner flat on his back and disoriented, did absolutely nothing to the man. He didn’t even move an inch from here, he stood. A few quick blinks to get the dancing light from his eyes was the only reaction that Clyde gave to Savik for his efforts.

  “Holy shit. You guys really are immune!” The guard was grinning ear to ear, in absolute disbelief.

  Jeremy was more fascinated by the fact that all he needed to confirm his theory was a flimsy spell that delivered half the potency of a DIY flashbang.

  “WHAT. THE FUCK. IS GOING ON IN THERE?!” shouted a familiar voice from the other side of the prison floor door. Savik went from excited to scared shitless, as the consequences of his actions were now barrelling up the tower stairs in the form of Elisia, second of the three knights that comprised the Queen’s guard.

  Whereas the other-worlders have been living it up in their prison tower, admiring the view, free meals and an occasional lukewarm bucket shower, Elisia was stuck having to watch over the tower in case they try to escape, as well as make sure the guards are on their best behaviour when dealing with these three prisoners. Being a royal knight and ending up assigned such a duty was as close to a punch in the gut someone of her standing could get. Having her make sure the other-worlders were treated almost like guests in a tavern, rather than enemies of the kingdom that plotted with the treacherous duke to overthrow the Queen only boiled Elisia’s blood further. If it weren’t for the sentence that awaited them, she was sure she’d kill them herself, orders be damned.

  “Oh fuck, oh fuck, I’m a dead man.” The young guard panicked, looking around frantically, not knowing if he should run, hide or face his end like a man.

  As the knight kicked the door open with such a force that obliterated the door, sending splinters flying across the entire room, Clyde grabbed Savik by his leather chest plate and yanked, slamming the guard against the bars with enough force to leave him temporarily dazed.

  Savik fell on his ass, rubbing his head as it has just kissed the bars of the cell. Hearing Elisia storm over, he froze, uttering a silent prayer in hope of meeting his maker painlessly.

  “Picking on the guards again, ay?” Elisia stormed past Savik and stood right in front of Clyde. Her smile hid an ocean of bubbling rage, her hand clenched around the handle of her sheathed sword with such force that veins were bulging out on her fist. It took her an immense amount of self-control not to slice through the bars and the lumbering oaf of a man behind them.

  “Well.” She hissed.

  “You remember what I told you last time. The Queen has instructed me to treat you as kindly as I can, hence why you still live, but I will not allow you to enjoy your stay here. No more nice view and passable food. Tomorrow at first light, you boys will be going to the basement holding cells where you’ll be eating RATS if you’re lucky!”

  Clyde just gave her the most blank expression to ever grace the face of any man, which only seemed to irk her more. Jeremy, watching from the side, expected his comrade to start drooling any second now.

  Feeling her composure slip away at a rapid pace, Elisia turned on her heels and headed for the door, or where the door once was at least. Savik looked at Clyde and uttered a silent “thank you”, realizing that the other-worlder’s quick thinking saved the guard from rightfully taking the blame for the whole commotion they caused.