Forty-four years later…

“You can’t be serious.”

Wyatt smiled. Even though he was tense, it felt like the world was being lifted from his shoulders.

“I am,” Wyatt said. “I’ve done my best, and it’s not getting any better. You’re more important now, Lea. Our family is more important.”

“Wyatt,” Lea said. She stood from the table gingerly and placed her hands on his cheeks. She swallowed and shook her head, her eyes shining. “You don’t have to do this. I know how much you love your job and how much you love to help others. We can make this work; you don’t have to leave your position.”

Wyatt placed his hands atop hers and smiled at his wife-to-be. It had been two days since she had told him she was pregnant, and in those two days, his world had forever changed for the better.

“I’ve made my choice,” Wyatt said, running his thumbs along the back of her hand. “I now only have to do it.”

Lea’s lips trembled, and she let go of Wyatt’s face to throw her arms around him, sitting in his lap and kissing him. “I love you, Wyatt,” Lea said between kisses. “Thank you. It’s been hard watching you go to work every day, not knowing if you would come back.”

“I won’t be going anywhere without you,” Wyatt said. He stood, carrying Lea in his arms until he softly placed her back into her chair. “Just one last time.”

Lea nodded, smiling even as her eyes brimmed with tears. Wyatt stood for a moment, smiling and looking over the vision of beauty sitting in front of him. She was short, just over five feet tall. She had a heart-shaped face, long blonde hair, and a smile that made him weak at the knees. She was wearing her preferred sky-blue tunic and green trousers, but soon she would have to wear something to accommodate her better.

She was his, and she was perfect.

“What are you looking at?” Lea said, wiping her eyes. She sounded suspicious.

“My world,” Wyatt said, bowing to her and leaving their shared home. Lea sniffed behind him, sounding as though she was about to cry again. She didn’t say anything as Wyatt stepped outside and attached his sword to his belt.

The Citadel was easy to find. Even in the thickest of crowds, one only had to look up to find it. While the tower itself was only part of a larger complex, it was the first thing that everyone looked for when entering the city for the first time. It was over seven hundred feet tall of flawless grey stone. Wyatt had to crane his neck back to see the top of it.

It was a strange morning. There was a fog that permeated the cobblestone streets, but it was also still sunny. The streets were nearly full, and Wyatt bumped into more than one person that appeared through the mist. A few began to berate him, but one look at his dark blue Citadel Guard uniform shut them up very quickly.

That’s one perk of the job I’ll miss, Wyatt thought as he made his way through a street that unconsciously parted before him. My speed getting anywhere will be drastically reduced.

When Wyatt arrived at the Citadel, he didn’t sign in as he usually did. Instead, he marched right past the check-in and went to his boss, a man he didn’t really want to talk to.

He knocked on a wooden door which read Mage-Captain of the Citadel. Though grand sounding, it was where the Citadel liked to place mages who were currently facing the Council’s disapproval.

“Come in,” the mage called from inside. Wyatt hesitated with his hand on the doorknob. While he hadn’t lied to Lea, he would miss this job. The thought of disappointing and frightening Lea was more than enough for Wyatt to steel himself and open the door. He stepped through sideways as the door only opened halfway.

“Morning, Bryam,” Wyatt said, looking around Byram’s office with a raised eyebrow. There wasn’t a single surface that wasn’t full of papers and scrolls, including the chairs. Wyatt was more than half-certain that if he lit a match, they would lose half of the city of Velaire in the resulting explosion.

Byram sat at his desk, his head down as he scratched something out. After a moment, he tapped his quill into the ink jar. He then finally looked up and blinked owlishly, as if surprised at Wyatt’s sudden appearance.

“Morning,” Byram ground out nasally. He was tall and thin, wearing his brown robes and a superior expression on his shaved face that made him look years younger than his forty years.

“Good morning,” Wyatt repeated, long used to Byram’s inattentiveness. There was nowhere to sit or even stand, but he moved out of the doorway just in case someone else came in. “I quit.”

Byram blinked again. “You quit?”

“Yes,” Wyatt said. He seized the epaulets on his right shoulder and ripped it off, traipsing through the hills of notes and placing the yellow fabric on the mage’s desk. “I quit.”

Byram stared at the epaulets for a long moment before he looked back up at Wyatt, who frowned as he felt a foreign pressure begin to press down on his mind.

“You shouldn’t quit,” Byram said. The words were simple, but they carried a weight behind them.

“Perhaps,” Wyatt allowed, frowning as the pressure continued to build. Was Byram attacking him? It was difficult keeping a straight face when it felt like his mind was being crushed between two boulders. “But I am.”

Byram’s lips quirked in a semblance of a smile as he sat back in his chair. “Interesting,” he said, and the pressure on Wyatt’s mind ceased. “Very interesting.”

“I’m sure it is,” Wyatt said, resisting the urge to rub his forehead. “If I may be so bold, I recommend that you choose Jor to replace me. He’s brash and older than me, but he’s trustworthy.”

Byram shook his head. “You don’t know,” he said, his voice torn between amusement and scorn. He leaned forward in his chair, and the pressure returned twice as powerful, making Wyatt let out a grunt. “You don’t realize the position you’re in, Wyatt.”

Stolen story; please report.

“Don’t leave me in the dark,” Wyatt said, managing a smirk even though he was in agonizing pain. He slowly lowered his hands to behind his back and straightened to being at rest, where a dagger was strapped under his uniform. “Tell me about my position.”

“You’re going to die if you leave your job,” Byram said. “Did you think the Citadel is stupid, Wyatt? We know what you can do. Why do you think you advanced so quickly through the ranks? Why do you feel as though something is tearing your mind apart right now?”

“I don’t know, but I feel as though you’re about to tell me,” Wyatt said through gritted teeth.

Byram chuckled mirthlessly. “You have magic, you fool. Enough to make the Citadel nervous.”

“Magic?” Wyatt said, biting out the words.

“Stop resisting me, and I’ll show you, idiot,” Byram snapped.

“I don’t know how,” Wyatt gasped. He bent over, raised his hands to his head, and massaged it. “All I know is that you’re trying to kill me.”

“If I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead,” Byram said. “You’ve a strong natural resistance. Imagine a door in your mind and open it. That should be enough.”

Wyatt imagined a door and opened it, and the pressure disappeared. Blinking, Wyatt stood and saw his epaulets floating in the air in front of him. He took them, frowning.

“We aren’t your enemy, Wyatt,” Byram said. His expression, normally pinched, seemed to soften. “You have friends, even in the Citadel.”

“If that’s how you treat your friends, I’d hate to see how you treat your enemies,” Wyatt said irritably.

“I’m not nearly as strong as you, but I’m trained, unlike you,” Byram said. He gestured to the piles of paper that were piled haphazardly throughout the room. “If you meet a mage who wants you dead, they will crush you like a boot crushing an ant. Your position reassures the Citadel that you aren’t going anywhere and that you won’t disappear. If you quit and disappear, they will come for you along with… others.”

“Why do you care?” Wyatt asked, tossing the epaulets back onto Byram’s desk. “I’ve only spoken to you a dozen or so times since you took your position a decade ago.”

“I’m telling you because I’ve been protecting you!” Byram snapped. “Not all of us come from the nobility, Wyatt. Not all of us are snobs who can’t see past the ends of our noses. You’ve done your utmost to improve Velaire, and it has improved under your care and diligence. Even though you’re only the Captain of the Citadel Guard and not its Governor or King Darius, your patrols, your charity work, your very approach to every day has been an inspiration to many and kept your detractors quiet. Nothing will be able to save you if you walk out of this room without those epaulets on your uniform.”

“I’m not quitting for myself,” Wyatt said. “I’m quitting because I have to.”

“Ah,” Byram said. He waved a hand, and a soft woosh sounded behind Wyatt. He spun, hand still on his dagger, but he stopped when he saw nothing.

“No one will hear you,” Byram said. “Your secrets are safe.”

“I have a fiancée,” Wyatt began, not sure why he was telling Byram this. Probably because he can kill me within a few moments if he wanted to, and he said he was trying to help me.

“And?”

“And she’s pregnant,” Wyatt said. “She knew I liked this job, but she’s always been afraid that I would never come back after I went in. She would never tell me to quit, but she wants me to.”

“You do realize that you’re putting yourself in a worse position if you leave?” Byram asked with a raised eyebrow. “Your job protects you. If you leave that protection behind…”

Wyatt swallowed as Byram let his words trail off, the ramifications of what he was doing beginning to settle in. I never thought anyone knew about my magic, and now apparently the whole Citadel knows and is interested in me!

“Can you help me?” Wyatt croaked, bowing his head. He hated the position he’d put himself in. I’m forced to beg a mage for help, even if he’s one of the few that are decent. It grated at his pride, but Wyatt had learned long ago that such a thing was meaningless if it meant the ones you cared for were at risk. “I’d do anything for her. She wants me to leave, but if I’m going to put her and my family in danger, then I will need help to make this a clean break.”

“I understand,” Byram said. He glanced at the epaulets on his desk, and they floated back to Wyatt. “Take them and put them back on.”

“I told you already—”

“I accept your dismissal,” Byram said, talking over Wyatt. “I will place you on leave for the next few months, as you will supposedly travel to visit some long-lost family in Westermoor. As you’re an orphan, such a decision won’t seem too absurd. You will also wear those epaulets until the end of the day. Then, you may never wear the uniform—along with the epaulets—ever again.”

Wyatt’s mind raced. Whenever someone quit, they usually had to hand in their uniform immediately. He’s giving me a head start while also putting himself at risk.

“Thank you,” Wyatt said, touched. “I appreciate this.”

Byram scoffed. “You may never have known, but Velaire appreciates what you have done for her,” he said.

The mage raised his hand, probably to dismiss the protections on the door preventing anyone from listening in. He started waving his hand, but after a moment he hesitated and frowned. He paused and then took a pen, scribbling something down on a piece of paper and then floating it over to Wyatt.

“What’s this?” Wyatt asked, looking down at the parchment, which said:

R,

You know this man and his reputation. He wants to disappear with his woman. Help him and you’ll receive your usual payment.

B.

“When you don’t return, people will get suspicious,” Byram explained. “Sergeant Nathaniel will eventually pursue you.”

Wyatt grimaced. He and Nathaniel had been friends until Nathaniel had been passed over when the previous Captain had retired. Since then, he had hated Wyatt and had wanted nothing to do with him. I could believe he would want me dead. Even when we were friends, he was arrogant and never forgot a slight, no matter how small.

“And this…?” Wyatt questioned, motioning to the impromptu letter in his hand.

“I know people,” Byram said, raising an eyebrow. “People affiliated with a certain Guild.”

The Thieves Guild. Wyatt wasn’t astonished at discovering that a mage dealt with the Guild that ran the dark underbelly of Velaire, but Byram, the rule-abiding snooze that oversaw the Citadel Guard? That was something else entirely.

“Go to the docks,” Byram told Wyatt. “You’ll meet a man on the fourth dock. He wears a brown coat and has scar on his forehead. Hand him this note, and he’ll get you across the bay to Malda. After that you’re on your own. Do you have money?”

“Are you offering?” Wyatt asked, curious to see if the mage would give him anything else. He wasn’t a beggar, and he did have money, but he would need every penny he could spare in the near future. It was truly beginning to dawn on him how foolish this whole endeavor was.

He didn’t even really want to go, truth be told. But every time he looked at the epaulets that were now clutched in his hand, he saw his wife-to-be in his mind’s eye. She would smile and tell him that it was fine, that they would make it work.

Wyatt had always been good at reading people. He would see her initial flicker of disappointment and the despair in her beautiful eyes, and the thought of being the cause of that was enough for him to stay the course.

It doesn’t matter how foolish her desire is. If she wants it, she’ll have it, Wyatt mentally vowed. He could find work elsewhere, and if it came down to it Lea had talked about opening an inn. He didn’t care if he were the poorest man in the world; with Lea at his side, he would be its happiest.

“Here,” Byram said, interrupting Wyatt’s thoughts with a floating small coin purse. He grabbed both with a nod, shoving the coin purse in his pocket without opening it.

“Thank you,” Wyatt said, smiling at his former boss. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“No,” Byram agreed. He leaned back in his chair and smirked. “I didn’t. And yet, I did.”

“Anything else?” Wyatt asked, attaching the epaulets back to his uniform.

“Travel swiftly,” Byram said. He smiled and waved his hand, dismissing the protections on the door. “May Diev protect you, Captain.”

“Thank you,” Wyatt said, giving Byram a slight bow. He turned and left, not giving Byram a second glance.