Captain Henrik was reviewing patrol reports when Jennifer burst into the guard station, her face flushed from running and her eyes wide with urgency.
"Captain, he's awake," she said without preamble. "The boy—he's conscious and aware."
Henrik felt his stomach drop. After six days of unconsciousness, he had almost begun to hope the stranger would simply slip away peacefully, taking the threat to their security with him. An awakened boy posed far more complex problems than a dying one.
"How aware?" he asked, already standing and reaching for his sword belt.
"Completely. No confusion, no disorientation. He looked at me like he was memorizing every detail for later use." Jennifer's hand unconsciously moved toward her weapon. "Captain, there's something wrong about this. No one wakes up from injuries like that and immediately starts evaluating threats."
Henrik nodded grimly. He had suspected as much from the boy's unusually rapid healing. Whatever this child was, he wasn't a typical escaped slave.
"Gather Sergeant Thorne and Corporal Davies," he commanded. "And bring the interrogation kit from the secure storage. If we're going to question him, we need to be certain he's telling the truth."
Twenty minutes later, a small group of armed guards made their way back to Eldara's shop. The herbalist met them at the door, her expression troubled.
"He hasn't moved or spoken since Jennifer left," she reported. "But his vitals are strong, and the healing is proceeding faster than should be possible. Captain, this boy has an attribute—a powerful one."
"What kind?" Henrik asked, though he suspected he already knew the answer.
"Unknown. I've never seen anything like it." Eldara stepped aside to let them pass. "Be careful. There's something about him that makes my instincts scream danger."
Henrik entered the back room to find the boy exactly as Jennifer had described—sitting up in bed, alert and watching, with eyes that held far too much intelligence for someone his apparent age. The stranger didn't speak or move as the guards arranged themselves around the room, but Henrik could feel the weight of his attention like a physical presence.
"I am Captain Henrik, commander of this village's guard," he began formally. "You are in the hidden settlement of Millhaven, and your presence here represents a serious security concern."
The boy nodded once but remained silent.
"We're going to ask you some questions," Henrik continued, producing a scroll from his equipment pack. "This is a truth compulsion scroll. It will last for ten minutes and prevent you from speaking deliberate falsehoods. Do you understand what this means?"
"Yes," the boy replied, his voice calm and steady. "You want to make sure I'm not lying to you."
Henrik studied the stranger's face for any sign of fear or resistance, but found only what appeared to be resigned acceptance. Either the boy was innocent of any deception, or he was confident he could navigate truth magic without revealing anything damaging.
"Will you submit to this questioning voluntarily?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"Not really."
The boy's lips curved in what might have been a smile. "Then I suppose I volunteer."
Henrik activated the scroll with a word of command, feeling the magic settle over the room like a heavy blanket. The compulsion was subtle but unmistakable—for the next ten minutes, direct lies would be literally impossible to speak.
"State your name."
"Aeon."
"Where did you come from?"
"A slave camp in the forest. I don't know exactly where—I was unconscious when the river brought me here."
"How did you escape?"
Aeon was quiet for a moment, his eyes growing distant. "There was an attack on the camp. In the chaos, I managed to get away."
Henrik noted the careful phrasing but pressed forward. "Who attacked the camp?"
"Goblins. Hundreds of them."
"How did you survive when others presumably didn't?"
"I hid until the fighting was over, then ran."
Truth, but clearly not the whole truth. Henrik could feel the magic confirming that the boy wasn't lying, but the answers felt deliberately incomplete.
"How did you find our village?"
"I didn't. I was being chased by one of the slavers who survived the attack. During our fight, I fell off a cliff into the river. The current brought me here."
Again, true but evasive. Henrik tried a different approach.
"Do you possess an awakened attribute?"
For the first time, Aeon hesitated. "Yes."
"What type?"
Another pause. "I awakened it recently. I'm still learning what it can do."
Henrik frowned. "That's not what I asked. Everyone knows their element the moment they awaken. What attribute did you manifest?"
Aeon was quiet for a long moment, and Henrik could see him carefully considering his words. "Infinity."
The room fell silent. Henrik exchanged glances with his guards, noting their expressions of complete confusion.
"What does that mean?" Sergeant Thorne asked from his position by the door. "I've never heard of any attribute called that."
"Neither have I," Henrik admitted, studying the boy's face. "Are you certain that's what it's called?"
"Yes," Aeon answered simply.
Henrik felt a chill of unease. An unknown attribute was worse than a powerful known one—at least familiar magic could be anticipated and countered. This boy represented a complete unknown, which made him exponentially more dangerous.
"Are you a threat to this village or its people?"
"Not if you're not a threat to me."
The honesty of that answer was almost refreshing. Henrik found himself appreciating the boy's directness, even as it confirmed his worst fears about the situation.
"Have you told anyone else about the location of this village?"
"No. I was unconscious when I arrived, and you're the first people I've spoken to since escaping."
"Do you know of anyone else who might be searching for this location?"
"The slavers who held me are likely dead or scattered. I don't know of anyone else who would care about finding one escaped slave."
Henrik glanced at his subordinates, noting their tense expressions. The truth compulsion was confirming the boy's statements, but it was also revealing just how dangerous their situation had become. An awakened child with unknown abilities had breached their security, and while he claimed to pose no threat, that could change rapidly.
"Final question," Henrik said as he felt the scroll's magic beginning to fade. "What do you want from us?"
Aeon met his eyes directly. "To heal. To rest. To not be treated as property or a threat unless I give you reason to."
The truth compulsion dissolved as the ten minutes expired, leaving the room in heavy silence. Henrik found himself facing a boy who had answered every question honestly while revealing virtually nothing useful about the real nature of the threat he might represent.
"Sergeant Thorne will remain on guard duty," Henrik announced, moving toward the door. "You are not to leave this room under any circumstances. In three days, you will be brought before the village council to determine your fate. I suggest you use that time to consider very carefully what you're going to tell them."
As he prepared to leave, Henrik paused and looked back at the boy who had potentially doomed their hidden sanctuary.
"For what it's worth, I hope you're telling the truth about not being a threat. Because if you're lying, if you're some kind of advance scout or spy, you won't live to regret it."
Aeon's response was quiet but clear. "I understand."
Henrik left the room with the uncomfortable feeling that the boy understood far more than he was letting on. The next three days would determine whether Millhaven had saved an innocent refugee or invited its own destruction through misplaced compassion.
Either way, their century and a half of peaceful isolation was over.