Destan cursed under his breath.

The cabinets were empty. Again. He grabbed the crudely-carved wooden bowl from the countertop. A handful of hazelnuts was all he had left. He'd have to stock up today. A failed hunt was not an option.

Bowl in hand, he stepped into the living room, setting it down on the worn-down table, making sure not to touch the frayed, splintery edges. He opened the windows, letting the sunlight illuminate the room.

Destan's home was made up of nothing more than the bare necessities: a bench, a few stools, some cabinets, and a table. No paintings on the evergreen-wood walls, no colourful vase on the oaken, handmade cabinets. Destan had taken it all down years ago. They brought up too many bad memories. Even the beautiful pictures his mum used to draw had been thrown out.

"Morning, mum."

His mother lay on her back on the bench, a filthy woollen blanket wrapped around her. She turned her head towards him, watching him crack the nuts, but stayed mute. Her blue eyes drooped, crimson hair hanging listlessly down her shoulders.

She didn't say much nowadays. She would just sit there and stare at him, as if the simple act of opening her eyes was all the energy she could muster for the day. She'd been like that for ten years; he'd been five when it happened. Ever since his dad passed away a few years later, it was up to Destan to take care of her.

"Here," said Destan, placing the bowl onto her lap.

His mum looked down at it, the skin next to her nose wrinkling.

"Mum, you have to eat."

She shook her head gingerly.

"Mum." Destan knelt down in front of her, like he'd done so many times before, forcing her to look him in the eye. "It's just you and me. Please. Eat."

Reluctantly, she picked up a hazelnut and examined it before pushing it through tightened lips into her mouth. Satisfied, Destan stood up.

"I'm going out hunting today," he said, grabbing his bag of gear. "I'll see you tonight. Finish that bowl, okay?" With a quick kiss on her cheek, he left the cottage.

His home, being on the edge of the camp, looked out over all the other tribe cottages. They were all the same in many ways: little wooden huts made from the trees around them. They were all rectangular with flat roofs, just like his own place, though some were larger than others. Only the decorations were different. At the very centre of the camp stood the largest of them all. This was where their Chief lived.

As his neighbour's door opened, Destan turned and rushed into the forest. He took his normal route north, keeping an eye out for nuts, berries, certain leaves, animals; anything edible.

Being at the foot of a mountain, the forest was wet and cold at this time of the year. The trickling of water onto leaves drowned out the singing of birds. Dampness seeped into his vest as he fruitlessly pulled it tighter around his torso. He didn't mind much though, because the forest was at its greenest and prettiest this way. Besides, he quite liked the smell of nature just after the rain.

"Destan!"

An old woman strode up to him, grass-green dress fluttering behind her. Unlike most tribe-clothes, her dress was decorated with intricate gold-threaded leaves. Her long, white-grey hair was bound tightly behind her back.

"Good morning, Aruna." Destan squirmed under her gaze. Somehow, she always made him feel like he was doing something wrong. Calling her by her first name didn't help, but it wasn't his choice. Despite her high status in the tribe, she made everyone call her Aruna, as if she'd abandoned her surname.

With Destan following on her heel through the forest, Aruna asked, "Did you practice what we talked about last week?"

"Of course!" Destan hastened to say. "Every day."

"Good." She nodded. Turning towards the east, she said, "This way. I think it's about time I gave you a proper training."

Destan stumbled over a loose twig, only barely managing to catch his footing. When he looked up, Aruna glared down at him, as if she suddenly doubted her decision.

"A proper one?" he said, eyes wide. "Is that even allowed?"

Aruna froze and narrowed her eyes. "This decision is mine and mine alone. Is that clear?"

Gulping, he added, "I just mean because I'm... Never mind."

The rest of the trek through the forest was silent. Destan listened to the birds chirping above his head and the leaves rustling, as he tried to contain the fluttering inside his stomach. A real training, from Aruna, the tribe trainer! He could hardly believe it.

When they arrived at a cave in the foot of the Kavora mountain, Aruna walked in until the sun was blocked out and the shadows hid them from view. His eyes strained to see her at all as she sat down on her knees and gestured for him to join her. He crossed his legs while she explained, "In a moment you will fall asleep. I will create a dreamworld for you through which you'll have to navigate safely using your magic."

Destan nodded. He'd heard about Aruna's power, but he'd never seen her use it before. Apparently she created dreamworlds in which the trainee could move about while she controlled the world, throwing difficulties and challenges at them. Even if her trainee failed and got themselves injured, she could just pull them out of the dream and they'd be fine.

He shuffled on the ground, pulling his crossed legs further in. He leaned forward expectantly.

"I will be there with you to see how you handle this. Use what I've taught you. Oh, and just so you know, this is a test. You'd do well to pass it."

Before he could open his mouth to ask what he was meant to be doing exactly, the cave faded until nothing but darkness was left.

Destan's eyes popped open. A bright afternoon sun greeted him, as well as a dull ache along his back.

Pushing himself up, Destan glanced around as he dusted himself off. His jaw dropped. The ground he'd just been lying on was made of rock. A single, endless slab of grey stone made up the path between the buildings.

What is this place?

Stranger still, the homes lining the grey path also appeared to be made out of stone, though a more colourful kind. This one he'd seen before; brick, his uncle called it.

Houses made of brick... He'd heard of that before. "Is this Grimsby?" he whispered to himself.

Outside the tribe's forest was a world filled with Inops; people without magic. Grimsby was the Inops town closest to the forest. It was the only other place Destan knew, but he only knew it from stories. Houses made of brick, metal everywhere, little objects that gave off light as if filled with fire.

Pulling a hand through his curled, raven-black hair to get it out of his eyes, he made his way over to one of the brick cottages to inspect them up close.

These houses... Not only were they at least twice the size of his own cottage, they also had glass in the windows. His own windows at home were nothing but a hole in the wall with wooden doors covering them. He'd never seen so much of the see-through substance in his life. He brushed his fingers over the cold surface. Definitely glass, though thinner and shinier than that in the Chief's windows.

Catching his own reflection, Destan grinned. It was amazing how clearly this polished glass mirrored his round, teenage face, his brown eyes and the gap between his teeth.

"Do you know what a car is, Destan?"

The sudden voice made him jump, until he recognised it as Aruna's. He glanced around to find the old woman, but she wasn't there. Her voice, echoing off the walls of the cottages, was merely in his head.

"No," said Destan, turning away from the window. Of course he didn't know; he'd never been to Grimsby before. In fact, he'd never set foot outside the tribe's forest before.

Well, except that one time...

"There's one now."

A strangely shaped metal box on wheels passed him by, stopping on the path a few feet away from him.

"The Inops use these vehicles to get around," Aruna explained. Through the windows Destan noticed the motionless man in the front, behind what seemed to be another, thinner wheel. He was another of Aruna's creations; she was in complete control in this dreamworld. "Can you lift it?"

"I don't know. It looks heavy." Despite his own words, Destan rolled up the sleeves of his linen shirt. Black lines, known as Atraments, ran down his pale arms to his palms.

Aiming his hands at the vehicle, he concentrated the power in his Atraments and sent it along the lines down to his palms. The magic invisibly stretched out like millions of tiny little tendrils, wrapping themselves around the metal molecules that made up the car. He pulled, but nothing happened.

Destan braced himself and forced more magic through his hands. The tendrils clutched the metal molecules and atoms, pulling them up with as much force as he could muster. He groaned with effort.

The car swayed slightly, but never came off the ground.

"Hmm. Not quite, but nearly," Aruna's voice mused.

"It's just too heavy." Destan leaned forward, his hands on his knees to keep himself up. His Atraments burned from the effort. Catching his breath, he wiped his arm over his forehead.

"Still, your powers are remarkable. Keep moving."

With one last glance at the strange vehicle, Destan wandered down the stone path. Brick cottages with pointed roofs passed through his field of vision. Most had a small grass field at the front, sometimes with other shrubbery and flowers growing among them. Did Julia call one of these places her home?

"Where are their fields?" Destan asked into the sky, trying his best to rid his thoughts of his estranged little sister. It was hard though, as Aruna's dreamworld was a unique opportunity for him to learn about the town she lived in. He'd most likely never set foot in the real Grimsby. "Where do they grow their crops and keep the animals?"

"They have bigger farms, much larger than ours, but they keep them separate from the town. You must remember that Grimsby is much bigger than our tribe. Now hurry, Destan, we don't have much time. Go left around this corner. Oh, and from now on, don't let them see you."

Her voice filled the sky like rumbling thunder. Destan's heart shot into his throat. "What? Why?"

"They'll know you're different. People don't like different, Destan. Your magic is something the Inops have never seen before. They will fear you. Stay hidden."

Just as she said that, a door opened at the end of the street. Every single muscle in his body tensed as he dove behind some shrubs. Peeking around the green vegetation, he watched people suddenly moving and scuttling about inside the homes. Was that why they had glass windows? So they could keep an eye on the world outside?

"They're coming after you, Destan. As long as you're in this town, they're always behind you. Keep moving." Her voice boomed across the sky, yet the residents didn't seem to notice. In this world, Aruna ruled. She controlled these people like puppets. Destan was fairly certain she could control him if she wanted to.

Destan's heart pounded in his chest as he sprinted around corners, staying in the shadows and turning into a dark, quiet alleyway. Someone shouted something behind him, but he wasn't sure if it was aimed at him.

"In the middle of Grimsby you'll find a shop. It's a bit like an icebox; they keep their food there, but it has glass windows and isn't completely frozen like ours."

With nowhere else to go, he jumped over a fence connecting the brick walls of neighbouring houses. A yelp escaped his lips when his legs got stuck in the hedgerow on the other side of the fence. He landed face-down, covering him in filth. Twigs prickled his skin like needles as he tried escaping the tangled branches, each stab more painful than the last.

"You'll recognise it from the word Supermarket above the doors. This is your task: get inside, take the black cube and get out unseen."

As the last echoes of her voice faded, Destan scrambled to his feet on trembling, stinging legs. He scanned his surroundings and spotted an unkempt, moss-covered shed – the perfect place to hide. Trying to catch his breath, Destan leaned against the soft wood and brought his hands up to his burning chest.

Why am I doing this? The unwelcome thought crossed his mind.

Why had she recreated Grimsby for him? Tribers strictly stayed away from the town. History had taught them people with powers and those without simply didn't mix. Tribe and town stayed separate. It has always been that way.

Bang!

A door slammed shut, snapping Destan back to reality. Whatever Aruna's reasons, he'd better do as she said. He'd be in trouble if he didn't. Movement in the corner of his eye made him push back against the shrubbery, into the shadows. Leaves pricked into the back of his head as spiderwebs tangled in his hair, but it was all background noise.

As the sound of footsteps crept closer, Destan glanced around, searching for anything he could defend himself with. Along the edge of the garden, not ten feet away from him, stood an empty plant pot.

That'll do, he thought.

Destan stuck out his hand, palm facing forward, and focused on the pot. Its components, its molecules, its atoms. He felt his magic brush against them and pulled. The chipped pot steadily lifted itself up into the air, floating up to above Destan's head. He held it there, waiting to see if he'd need it, while the footsteps came ever closer.

A young man with a shifty look in his dark eyes rounded the corner. In his hands he held an intricate metal rod.

"That's a gun," came Aruna's voice across the heavens. "It's a very dangerous weapon that can kill you within seconds if he pulls the trigger. You'd better take him out. Don't let him see you."

At her words, Destan didn't hesitate. He pulled on the molecules of the plant pot as hard as he could and it launched at the man. Before he could react, the object had crashed into his head, knocking him to the ground, shards of terracotta scattering around him. A crimson gash swelled up just above his eyebrow. Destan was quite certain the man had never seen him or his magic.

Without wasting another second, he turned his back on the unconscious man and sprinted through the town. Sticking to the shadows and diving in and out of shrubs, Destan made his way around several more corners before he finally spotted it.

The building looked like a palace to him. It was only one story high with a flat roof, but it was huge, like five of the Chief's cottages put together. It consisted for a large part of more shiny glass, glittering brilliantly in the sun.

Before he had a chance to get close, a woman with a vicious-looking dog came around a corner. As quick as he could, Destan reached out his power to the nearest hiding place and pulled. A waste container on wheels shot towards him, freezing in front of him as he crouched down.

His shirt clung against his sweaty chest as he panted. He held his breath against the foul smell coming from the bin. The dog barked a few times, the sound growing softer as they made their way around the next bend.

"The shop is closed today, nobody is inside," said Aruna as he slipped out from behind the container and made for the shop. "If you break a window, they'll be warned and they'll come charging to catch you."

I'd better be quick then.

Sneaking closer, Destan peered through the glass, searching for the black cube. It wasn't hard to spot; the size of a stool, it sat waiting for him on top of a metal trolley. But how was he going to get it out without being spotted? He glanced around, searching for options, when it hit him.

Use what I've taught you, she'd said.

He spread his fingers and aimed his palms towards himself. The tendrils grabbed hold of his own body. Within seconds, he found himself floating up into the air, lifting higher and higher, to land softly on top of the nearest home.

A grin spread across his face as he looked down from the roof. He wouldn't be as easy to spot up here.

Taking a deep breath, he reached out again, ignoring the stinging sensation running through the black lines on his arms. It had been a while since he'd pushed his powers so intensely. Much like muscles, they burned under the exercise. The tendrils of magic shot towards the shop, the glass unable to keep them out. He levitated the black cube into the air, steeled himself, then yanked on the molecules.

The cube crashed through the window, hurling glass everywhere, and flew up to the roof where Destan stood. Without waiting for the consequences, he turned and dashed over the roof, jumping from one building to the next, the cube floating after him. He kept one eye on the ground below him and threw himself flat onto the roof every time someone turned his way. Nobody ever looked up.

He could already see the forest in the distance, mount Kavora behind it, when the world suddenly froze around him. The birds stopped chirping, the people below him disappeared, even the sun seemed to turn a shade darker. He stopped to find the cube hovering in the air several feet behind him. He'd lost control over it; Aruna had taken over. Panting and heaving from all the running, he dropped himself to his knees, letting his stinging arms hang beside him.

"Well done," came Aruna's voice through the sky. "You've used your powers well. You've passed my test."

Before Aruna could take him out of her dreamworld and end the training, Destan glanced around him one more time. From the top of the building, he could see dozens of these stone cottages in the distance.

Grimsby. He'd only ever seen it from afar. He'd always wondered where Julia lived. He hadn't seen his sister since she was born, but he knew she lived among the Inops. One of these stone cottages must be her home. Which one would it be? Was she happy in this strange, huge town? Or was she longing to have her old family back, just like him?