Dinner time sported the greatest solace in the room. He had brought spare potions with him the day before so he had no reason to go out every meal time. Plus, he wasn't the type to go hungry every half an hour. That's his sister.

Lights must have gone down in the main corridor because the footsteps turned frantic. Most would be in a hurry to go back to the comfort of their rooms and cots as the bells and the rods trained them to do so. Rhys, during this time in this place, had gotten used to sleeping on the rock-hard woven cot. It was given to him by a craft master who couldn't care less to whom his products were given. From the look on his face, he didn't appear he wanted to be here either.

Well, same branch, mister. Same branch, indeed.

Rhys leaned down and checked the bubbling liquids he staked over a glowing lamp. It might have been the same model he used in the brewing room. Instead, he weaved a regulator when he got out yesterday and used the small gadget to brighten or dim the flame. The glass vials he pilfered from the apothecary from town, and most of the ingredients now processing at various stages were from the merchants.

Beside him, a rack made from twisted wires he unraveled from the unused cot lying around sat, waiting to be filled with cooling vials filled with his latest attempt at a counter-potion. He preferred it to be a powder of some sort—which he could put into bags and toss into people's faces as fumes—but with lack of materials and the knowledge of the apothecaries, he'd have to make do with extracts and concoctions.

When the last of the vials made it into the rack, Rhys started packing up the makeshift equipment. He also had to hide the regulator or someone would think he's bringing in unregistered magic and gadgets from the outside world. Synketrians weren't privy to many things outside the tavern. They'd be sure to talk about it until news reached the Sovereign's ears, if it hasn't already.

In practiced seconds, the rest of the vials and the lamp made it inside the small, metal box he retrieved from the junk pile in the training field. Why it was hidden among scraps of swords, daggers, and spears, he couldn't care less. It didn't have a lock, and it's the least of Rhys' worries. None of his roommates were thieves, because if they were, then he'd tattle away about the things they hid under their pillows. He's not the only forager here.

He stored most of the cooled potions inside, taking care to stop their lip with well-measured cork. He still had to find out how long it would last without going bad or start having diminished effects. Granted, he had yet to figure out if it worked at all.

Taking the fairy potion he got from the Synketrian tables, he analyzed the trail woven into it before taking a swig. Most of the ones he drank from here weren't laced with dreaded potion, but that's the catch. Nobody knew or cared what they're consuming were spiked with something that'd enslave them to the Sovereign. The potion's existence was kept secret so as to not raise suspicion and increase the likelihood of people succumbing to it without their permission or control.

That's about to change starting now. Because Rhys got a contaminated fairy potion.

He hefted both vials to his face and blew a breath. Here goes nothing. If the anti-potion somehow didn't work, he'd gladly follow the Sovereign to the ends of the world until the effects wore off, if they ever would. He plucked the stopper of the fairy potion—dinner, more like—and brought it to his lips. The faint smell of ajilte and some other fruit invaded his nose. Not a whiff of the mind-control potion to be detected. Whoever found the formula for this potion was a genius.

He was about to down the fairy potion when the door to his room opened and a hulking figure sped towards him. In a flash, his other hand lurched forward, letting the precious anti-potion arc through the air. The figure didn't see the flash of sacryne glass until the vial hit them in the forehead. Cheap glass shattered. A female voice grunted, followed by a hearty thud to the ground.

Panic swelled in Rhys' gut. What was this? While people mixed in rooms regardless of what they were, his roommates weren't supposed to be back until the last minute of light. Something about enjoying freedom or whatever. What was one of them doing here so early?

"Ow!" the newcomer complained, rubbing a sore spot on her forehead. It took a while, but Rhys recognized the messy black hair and the piercing brown eyes. Oh, it's the girl from earlier. Was she coming back to exact vengeance and justice? Just for not being allowed to go out? Really?

Still, Rhys scrambled forward. He did throw glass in her face. "I'm sorry. You surprised me," he said—a poor attempt to placate the situation. But she did surprise him, and he did let something splash down her face. "Are you okay?"

She sputtered, a hand running down the length of her face to get the potion out of her eyes. Her gaze landed on him crouched beside her, and her features twisted into anger. "What in Rudik's ass is that?" she demanded.

Rhys resisted putting a hand on her shoulder or even touching her. She might not want that, and he valued his fingers. "I'm sorry for throwing the vial at you," he said again. "I was surprised. What brings you all the way here?"

Instead of getting angry, she sat there on her haunches and blinked. And blinked. Then, a breathless chuckle shook her rather small body. "I can't believe it," she muttered to herself. "I've been under a spell since forever?"

She whirled to him. "What did you do?" she asked again. "What was that?

Oh. Did it work? Rhys hefted the uneaten but opened vial of fairy potion in his hand. "This is what I got from the mess hall. It's supposed to be our dinner," he explained. "But when I analyzed the trail, I noticed something different."

The girl knitted her eyebrows. "Different, how?"

"Its trail is laced with another kind, one that I didn't see in the previous vials I consumed. It could only mean one thing," he replied, his tone dropping into a grim note. "There are things put into our food, and I know what they're doing."

She frowned and fixed her stance so she's sitting cross-legged. The other roommates would be bound to come soon and they better not find this girl by then. He had to make it quick, so when she didn't produce a single squeak, he continued, "I happened to wander into this hidden brewing room past the training grounds, and I discovered this parchment that contained the recipe for the potion. And interestingly, the potions there and the one I have in my hands have traces of the same trail."

The girl appeared to be listening, not blinking once and bobbing her head with every inflection Rhys made. It boosted something inside him. "Moreover, the notes in the recipe claimed this potion is able to enslave the mind using several inhibiting properties towards cognitive ability and, after tailoring it better by a rysteme spell, it's now able to make mindless slaves out of people for the Sovereign."

"So that's why I've felt really sucky these days," the girl tapped her chin in thought.

"What did you feel before and after I hit you with the vial?" Rhys asked before adding, "I hope you accept my apology about that."

A small smile played on the corners of the girl's lips. She didn't look as terrifying when she regarded him and she didn't want to strangle him on the spot. "Apology accepted," she waved a hand in the air—a clear sign of dismissal or being done with that thread. "It's been a long time, but I've never felt this clear-headed. As if...I was back home, enjoying my father's pastries. Ever since I ended up in this place, my head always feels heavy. Burdened. Like something was constantly pressed at the back of my memories, my thoughts, and my emotions."

She stuck a lip out. "I only act out when it's the Synketros' end goal that's being threatened, hence the attitude with the foraging team. I apologize for that as well," she said. "But now...I feel like I can think on my own. Stand on my own legs once more."

At that, Rhys offered her a smile of his own. "Nice to be of service," he said. "You just proved my self-made experiment paid off and was powerful enough to cause a hitch in the Sovereign's plans."

Because whether he liked it or not, the Sovereign's enslaving people through their minds and without their consent. It's how they managed to trap many ordinary people—unwilling souls, even—and forced them to obey without question. Most of them say there was no way out of these organizations. Now, Rhys might have afforded them one.

The anti-potion worked.

"Say," Rhys started before hesitation gripped his tongue. He met the girl's eyes for the first time. It's unnerving but reassuring at the same time. It's like talking to an actual fairy after centuries of speaking only to fish...or something. "Would you like to help others be free of the Sovereign's control too?"

Silence. Thinking. The girl was thinking.

Finally, just as the footsteps outside the door came alive once more, the girl nodded once and faced him. "Let's do this," she said. "Give me one vial, and I'll get you another person."

Rhys opened the box and passed her another vial. It looked like he had to start making more, or teach this girl how to make her own. "What's your name?" he asked when she took hold of the opposite side of the vial he gave her.

"You first," she said with a smirk. Smart. He'd give her that.

To show her an act of good intentions, he relaxed his shoulders. "Rhys Torlin," he said. Not his full name, but it'd have to do.

She tucked the vial into the pocket of her trousers. "Xalim," she said. Her eyes sparkled like the flames in the lamp he'd just used. "My name is Xalim Resthen."