As Caspian slowly slid open the carved wooden doors, his hand trembled. He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the lantern light within.
Wood smoke filled his nose, reminding him of harsh, chilly nights spent around campfires with his battalion. He pushed the memory away, focusing instead on cataloging every detail of this place.
Thick beams of rich red wood supported high vaulted ceilings. A massive stone fireplace dominated one wall, flames dancing. Woven tan flooring that smelled of fresh grass. Tapestries of colorful creatures that matched the guardians outside. Three sliding doors led off the main room—one open archway revealed a glimpse of a dining hall, the others closed.
Windows. Large enough to dive through if needed.
And the lodge was clean. There were no cobwebs, no soot around the fireplace, and no dust in sight. For a place this old, it was well looked after.
Caspian clenched his fists, a faint crackle of static building around him as his mind raced. He flexed his fingers, trying to dispel the charge before—
“Easy there, Cas. Oh, I should have asked. Can I call you Cas?” Ash asked behind him.
“Sure,” Caspian strained, the nickname stirring old memories. He swallowed hard.
“Why don’t you take a moment to settle in?” Ash suggested. “Join the others by the fire. I’ll be right back.”
Caspian nodded. He watched as Ash made his way to a door, slid it open, and walked down a long corridor.
Left alone, Caspian’s gaze drifted to the group gathered near the fireplace. They looked up as he approached, their expressions of curiosity and wariness mirroring his own.
A young woman with vibrant teal hair and deeply hued skin, nearly the shade of midnight, stood as he neared. Her smile was bright, but Caspian noted the strange shadows that danced around her feet.
“Hi there!” she chirped, words tumbling out rapidly. “I’m Liri, but most folks call me Star. Welcome to the Misfits Retreat. What’s your name?”
Caspian tensed, sparks tickling between his fingers. “Caspian,” he replied, resisting the urge to step back as she invaded his space.
Liri’s eyes widened as she looked at his hands. “Ooh, lightning magic! That’s amazing. You know, we have a sea named after you in my lands. I love the ocean. Well, I never actually got to see it, living in the undergrounds and all, but I’ve read about it in books. Is it true the waves sound like—”
“Liri,” a weary voice cut through her chatter. A gaunt, sallow-skinned man with long red hair and a large silvery pendant around his neck regarded Caspian suspiciously from his seat by the fire. “Not everyone wants to be interrogated the moment they arrive.”
Caspian noticed the temperature drop slightly as the man spoke, his breath misting in the suddenly chilled air. It reminded him of the Frostbreakers he’d faced in battle, and he felt his muscles tense involuntarily.
“Sorry,” Liri said, her cheeks darkening. “I talk a lot when I’m nervous. It’s been a while since—” She stopped herself, the shadows at her feet growing momentarily before she visibly reined them in.
The red-haired man inclined his head toward Caspian. “Oren,” he said, his rich tenor voice carrying an unsettling chill. “Guess we should at least know each other’s names if we’re stuck here for twelve weeks.”
The third resident, a tall, willowy person with flowing blue hair that moved of its own accord, offered a measured nod. “I’m Xanthis,” they said, their voice barely carrying over the crackle of the fire. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Caspian.”
An awkward silence fell over the group, broken only by the pop and hiss of the fire. Caspian shifted uncomfortably, acutely aware of the crackling energy beneath his skin. In the quiet, he caught snippets of Ash’s voice from the other room.
“…Cairn is still out collecting our final two arrivals. Their portals should open soon.”
Portals. Caspian filed that information away. If there were ways in, there had to be ways out.
Liri broke the silence.
“So, Caspian,” she started. “What’s your story? I mean, everyone here’s got one, right? Otherwise, we wouldn’t be in this place.” Her smile faltered for a moment before returning full force. “Me? Well, you can say I’m a bit of an oddball. Not to dump everything out on the table, but I was locked up in prison for the past five years. No one even bothered to check if I was still alive. It’s a good thing my shadows stretch far. Otherwise, I would have starved to death. Oh, and—”
“Liri,” Oren interrupted, frost forming on the fabric armrests of his chair. “Let him acclimate. The poor guy just got here.”
Either the buzzing inside him or the condescending tone in Oren’s voice was enough to make Caspian speak. “I’m not some delicate flower,” he growled, electricity arcing between his fingers. “Especially not for you, Frostbreaker.”
Oren rolled his eyes, and as he did, frost formed around his feet. “Not a Frostbreaker, or whatever you think I am. But if you think you can take me on, then do it, Sparky.”
Caspian stepped forward, his fists clenched.
Xanthis slipped between them, their hair undulating like seaweed caught in a current. “Please,” they said. “We are all struggling here. There is no need for conflict.”
Caspian tried to steady his breathing, but memories of ice and blood clawed their way up from the depths of his mind. He was back on the mainland in the middle of a war, ice threatening to overtake him and his friends, his love. They weren’t strong enough for the Frostbreakers. Before long, they’d—
He couldn’t stop his mind from spiraling, his control fraying. Electricity arced between his fingers, jumping to a nearby armrest and setting it aflame. A bolt of yellowed lightning surged toward Liri.
The shadows at Liri’s feet flung up, forming a protective cocoon around her. The lightning struck the darkness, and the shadows absorbed the energy. Then, with a sound like tearing fabric, tendrils of blackness spewed out, striking Caspian and throwing him across the room.
As he fell, another bolt of energy shot from him and struck Oren. The man’s skin turned translucent, and his eyes glowed with an eerie green light as he glared at Caspian.
“Contain him,” he said in a voice that carried hundreds of screams. He raised a clawed hand, and wisps of glowing mist floated up through the floor, forming bony hands and skulls that crawled toward Caspian.
Panic gripped Caspian’s throat. He’d caused this. He’d somehow made it all worse. Just like with his battalion, just like when—
“Enough.”
The single word resonated with a power that made the air vibrate. A squat woman strode through a door, her form shimmering with golden light. She raised one hand, her gaze sweeping over the mayhem.
With a snap of her fingers, Liri’s shadows receded, and Oren’s spectral minions vanished. The woman swept her hands around the room and looked at Ash. “Shaping up to be quite the challenge this season.”
She turned to address the group, her voice firm. “I’m Fiona, head counselor of this retreat. I won’t always be here to quell your outbursts. We practice a no-harming rule here. So everyone better find their calm now.”
As she spoke, Caspian felt something wash over him, attempting to drain away his tension. He pushed back, unwilling to let it calm his storm. Lightning arced out of him in blues and yellows, leaving scorch marks on the floor.
Fiona’s gaze settled on Caspian, her golden eyes boring into him as she pointed. “Peace,” she said, her voice echoing in his mind.
The storm persisted, and Caspian struggled to grasp onto it, pulling it back until only little sparks danced around him.
“Hmm,” Fiona said, a frown creasing her brow. “It seems that you are still a little too…charged. Until your magic stabilizes, I think it’s best if we isolate you.”
Isolation. The word echoed in Caspian’s mind. He’d been isolated for months now. What was a little more? And perhaps it would give him the chance to plan his escape.
Ash approached, offering a hand to help Caspian up. “It’s for the best,” he whispered. “I’ll be in the room next door, just in case you need anything.”
As Ash led him through one of the sliding doors to the corridor, Caspian heard Fiona addressing the others. “Everyone else, try to relax. Our activities will begin tomorrow when we have the full group and your magic has acclimated to your new home.”
The room Ash brought him to was small and plain, the walls lined with strange symbols that seemed to absorb the static clinging to Caspian’s skin. The constant buzz of energy that had been his companion since he’d arrived dimmed.
“I’m sorry it’s a little bland. Not many people need this room,” Ash said, “but a night in here and your magic should be more stable.”
Caspian brushed past him, sinking onto the small cot. The exhaustion caught up with him all at once, the electricity that had kept him moving gone.
Ash lingered in the doorway. “I know this is a lot to take in,” he whispered. “But we’re here to help. All of us. Even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.”
“Right,” Caspian muttered. “Thanks.”
With a sigh, Ash closed the door.
Caspian turned his gaze to the single window, which offered a view of the mountain peaks and the dense forest beyond. The sun was setting, painting the sky shades of orange and purple, reminding him of the sunsets over the sea of Tor Deren.
All he had to do was wait, Caspian thought. Wait long enough for them to settle in for the night. Then he’d make his escape.
-------
The mountain forest went on forever, every direction shrouded in pine and mist. Caspian slumped against a moss-covered boulder, his broad chest heaving. His heart was pounding, and a stitch formed in his side. It had been some time since he’d run like that instead of spending his days rotting away in bed.
He eyed the crumpled brochure in his hand, his curiosity too strong to outright incinerate the thing. His fingers twitched, sparks dancing across his calloused skin. The paper was garishly colorful, adorned with a flowing script that shimmered in the light. The books back home, even the ones for kids, didn’t have as much color.
Ash, the strange silver-haired man who had chased him up the mountain, stood up and stretched. He was stocky, just like Caspian, but he’d caught his breath already and was bouncing on his heels. “Well.” He chuckled. “That was quite a workout, eh? Two big gents like us running more than we ought to.”
Caspian glared. He didn’t like this Ash person. He didn’t know him. And yet he spoke as if they were old friends sharing a joke. “Speak for yourself,” he growled, though he couldn’t deny the slight paunch that had developed since his forced retirement.
Ash pulled a leaf-shaped canteen from his belt and shook it before unscrewing the cap and offering it to him. “Water?”
Caspian shook his head, swallowing as he looked away from the canteen. “What, so you could poison me?”
“I mean, unless fresh water from a nearby spring will do you in, you should be all right.”
“Or drug me,” Caspian said, attempting to stand but failing, his legs still too shaky. “Who knows what sort of potions you can make here?”
“All kinds,” Ash said. “I once saw someone become a cloud of mist after taking a potion. That was cool. But I wouldn’t be so cruel as to refuse water to a man in need.”
Caspian sighed and held out a hand. “Fine.”
The water was cold against his throat. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was until the first sip touched his lips, and then he nearly finished the whole thing before stopping himself and handing it back. “So, where are we?”
Ash nodded to the parchment in Caspian’s hand. “You might want to take a gander at that brochure. It should answer some of your questions.”
Caspian unfolded the paper, spotting a colorfully drawn map. He looked at the text, which shifted into letters he could read:
At Mystic Mountain Retreat and Rehabilitation, we understand that wielding extraordinary powers can sometimes be…well, not so wonderful. Our retreat is designed to help magical beings like you find inner peace, calm those chaotic energies, and reconnect with your most authentic selves.
Join us for our twelve-week program, offered all year round. No matter the season, Mystic Mountain is here to help weather any magical storm.
He looked up at Ash. “What in the Stormless void is this?” He scanned down to a section of activities. “You offer Aura Cleansing and Divination Journaling? Really?”
Ash chuckled. “That we do. I thought the same thing when I was first sent here. But it helps.”
“Do you also offer cuddle therapy for war-scarred soldiers?” Caspian asked. “Or perhaps interpretive dance battles?”
“I mean, we can if you’d like,” Ash replied with a glint in his eye.
Caspian blinked, the corners of his mouth almost forming a smile despite himself. He shook his head. “Fine, sure. So, where are we then? I’ve never heard of this ‘Mystic Mountain.’”
“It’s not quite on a map,” Ash started to explain, but as he did, a trail of wildflowers burst from the ground around them, their petals unfurling in vibrant purple, blue, and gold hues.
Caspian jumped, pushing himself up from the rock and reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there at his side. He spun around, eyes following the trail of bursting flowers blooming down the mountain as if it were some kind of serpent.
Ash held up his hands. “It’s okay. Things like that happen here. A lot of magic from many places can do that.”
“Right,” Caspian said cautiously. “And that’s supposed to make me calmer?”
“Well, I suppose not. But your sponsor brought you here to help find inner peace and control your magic,” Ash said. “It’s a place of healing.”
“Sponsor?” Caspian asked.
“Your god or other deity. Presumably, you were some kind of hero for them?”
Caspian’s mind reeled. Not even an hour ago, he had sat across from his god in a tavern, ready to destroy everything. He was supposed to believe that the Father of Storms, who let his entire battalion die, would send him here for a bit of rest and relaxation.
His legs buckled, and he stumbled forward.
Ash reached out to steady him, his large hand warm on Caspian’s shoulder. As Ash touched him, a spark jolted through Caspian. For the briefest moment, he was somewhere else, with woods thicker than these and a canopy that blotted out the sun. He felt a voice resonating through him, something ancient trembling beneath the earth, turning its attention toward him.
Caspian inhaled and snapped back to reality atop the summit, staring right into Ash’s gaze.
“What was that?” Caspian said, his heart racing.
Ash frowned, letting Caspian go. “I…don’t know.”
Caspian blinked. He needed to get out of there. He looked to the sky, which had cleared, without a cloud in sight. He had no other option, not with this man here willing to chase him down. He sighed. “I can’t ride out of here, so you might as well show me this retreat of yours.”
“Perfect,” Ash said and smiled, leading him down the hill. “Follow me.”
As they walked, Caspian peppered Ash with questions. “How many people are here?”
“This program has six residents, including you. You’ll have access to two counselors and the head of the retreat.”
Perfect, Caspian thought, sarcastically.
They passed by a waterfall, crossing an intricate bridge made of rich red wood. The craftsmanship was unlike anything Caspian had seen before, with delicate carvings of trees and animals along the railings. “And do you do this all year?”
“Yep,” Ash said. “Been at it for ten seasons. I was sent here, just like you, and decided I’d be better off staying here than graduating from the program.”
“So, once I graduate, I go home?”
“That’s the plan, but there is no time limit on healing. Some stay with us for a few seasons.”
Healing. The word echoed in Caspian’s mind. Do they think they could actually heal a broken war veteran? Doubtful.
They emerged from the forest into a clearing where several structures came into view. More rich red wood filled the space, fitting perfectly into the mountainous slopes. Every building gleamed with a lustrous finish and meticulous craftsmanship that bested even the castle of Tor Deren.
Gently curved roofs of slate-gray tiles cascaded down each building, turning up at the corners, supported by thick red beams.
A place nestled between two smaller buildings with finely raked pebbles and massive moss-covered boulders floating about caught his attention. “That’s the meditation garden,” Ash pointed out.
Next to that was a building with an entire wall open to the elements, facing out toward a misty lake. “And that’s the craft hut where we have art therapy sessions.”
Ash gestured to the centerpiece of it all, an impressive two-story structure with a broad roof supported by thick wooden pillars. Lanterns hung from the eaves, gently swaying in the wind. “This is our dining hall and living quarters. We have communal meals and cooking lessons there.”
“Cooking lessons?” Caspian repeated incredulously. “Assuming that’s so my fellow misfits and I can bond over stew?”
Ash laughed. “See? You’re already getting it. You’d be surprised how much you can learn about yourself and others while kneading dough.”
As they approached the main building, Caspian noted the massive, imposing stone guardians flanking the entrance. He couldn’t quite place what they were—strange beasts with scales, antlered heads, and lion-like paws—all carved with immaculate detail.
The main doors stood slightly ajar, made of the same wood and carved with scenes of mountains, trees, and flowing water. He hesitated as he placed a hand on them, spotting others just beyond the door. Other people he’d have to meet. Other people he’d have to pretend around until he could make his escape.
Ash placed a reassuring hand on his back. Caspian had surprised himself by not shrugging it off, and the warmth was a welcome relief as he slowed his breath.
“You’ve got this,” Ash murmured, his voice low and encouraging. “One step at a time.”
Caspian took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders, and grabbed onto the door, sliding it open.
Just fake it until you find your chance to escape, Caspian thought.
-------