Riley, Riley, Riley

The magicians' tower really wasn't much better than the mansion had been. Everyone here treated Dietrian as nothing more than a research specimen. He endured stares and whispers wherever he went but he was used to that. 

What he wasn't used to was the nature of the experiments Master Moran and the others ran on him. They didn't feel quite like beatings but they weren't the most pleasant either. 

As promised, there was never any lasting damage. He didn't gain any new scars here. 

Dietrian learned more about his magical potential and how to cast actual spells. As he did, he had dreams more often. 

Sometimes about trivial things in the near future such as so-and-so's laboratory blowing up or receiving news that a magician out in the world had been killed. Other times about his mystery woman.