The bar was rowdy. Lanterns on the dark wooden walls illuminated the room clearly, more than enough to see the filled tables crammed all over the room despite the late hour. Wine and ale covered the floor. To get from one part of the room to the other, it felt as though you were holding your breath and going for a swim, pushing through the mass of humanity that continually called for refills and more food.

Wyatt had to yell to be heard, an occurrence that repeated throughout the room that was full to bursting. Some days, patrons lined up half a kilometre down the road, but thankfully that wasn’t the case tonight. Instead, it was merely uncomfortably full, and when there was enough beer and wine, no one cared who they bumped shoulders with.

Wyatt smiled at all the people that were shouting, drinking, and carousing. For a tiny bar on the outskirts of Velaire, it was hard to believe that in just under five years since its opening, it had become this popular.

But it had. It had taken a lot of work, especially in the chaos after Wyatt’s sudden retirement as Captain of the Citadel Guard, but he had had enough of the politicking and the forced ignorance on issues that he had wanted to shout about from the rooftops.

They had wanted him to stay, of course. But after Wyatt had met the love of his life, Lea, while on patrol, her gentle smile had been enough for him to fall in love with immediately. She was on the floor now, hustling from table to table and making sure everyone was fed and watered. It was a busy job—Wyatt usually had to throw a few idiots out every busy night—but it was rewarding. It was one thing to be a Guard to the Citadel, but it was another entirely to be successful at something that was of your own doing.

Somehow, Lea had convinced him within a few months that he didn’t want to be a Captain of the Velaire Guard anymore, despite it being his life’s work before he met her. She had a way of convincing people, with her soft smile, long blonde hair, and expressive brown eyes. Wyatt had felt like he was falling into those eyes more than once. She had wanted him to be safe, and while his job was many things, safe was not one of them.

Wyatt finished cleaning a glass and looked down the line of his bar to see that all the other glasses he wanted to clean were done. He glanced over one of his customers in front of the bar—a scarred and rough-looking man who was nursing his ale—to see his wife coming over to him with an empty tray.

“Are you done?” Lea asked, scooting around the end of the bar to stand beside him. She put the tray under the bar to be cleaned. “Are you ready to go?”

“Always,” Wyatt said seriously. He batted away Lea’s swatting hand with a smirk. “Hold on, woman. Let me tell the troops.”

Wyatt seized a pair of drumsticks that he kept on the counter. He turned around to the massive drum that was hung on the wall and began to drum. It took a few moments, but Wyatt kept going, the noise from the drum becoming louder and louder before it finally cut through the noise of the crowd. It took even longer for the crowd to calm and begin to quiet down, but after another minute or two of drumming, he managed it. He turned back to the crowd, who were watching him expectantly.

“That’s it for me tonight,” Wyatt said. It was deathly silent, and he could feel the wave of exasperation emanating off his wife. “You know what that means, ladies and gentlemen. I’m in a good mood and you’ve all been good, so take one round on the house!”

The room exploded into cheers. Wyatt nodded to the crowd, who immediately began clamouring for their free refill. He turned his head to Edd, his second, a balding man who was great fun once you got past the fact that he was the grumpiest-looking man that Wyatt had ever seen. Currently, he was leaning against the bar and was studiously ignoring him. He was polishing a plate, even though it was already clean and shining.

“You got it, Edd?” Wyatt called. Edd looked up from his plate and adopted a long-suffering look.

“When don’t I?” Edd asked sardonically. He then smiled and winked at Lea, who laughed. “Go on, Wyatt. I’ve got the bar. Go see your little girl.”

Wyatt saluted his second, picked up his wife, and slung her over his shoulder, who squeaked and swatted him. “See you, lads!” Wyatt shouted, and he carried his futilely struggling wife up the stairs amidst cheers and catcalls.

“That’s the third time this week,” Lea complained, but she was smiling. “Keep doing that, and it’ll be expected every night.”

“And what’s so bad about that?” Wyatt said, somehow managing to keep a straight face.

Lea rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to even start that debate,” she said. She then belied any seriousness by taking off at a run toward their apartment door. Wyatt laughed and caught up to her within ten steps, picking her up again for a moment before he put her back down next to the door.

“You’re getting slower,” Lea teased, panting a little as she pulled a key out of her pocket and unlocked the door.

“Maybe I’m just letting you think that,” Wyatt retorted. Lea’s reply was cut off as their daughter, Bella, burst out of her bedroom. She was wearing her bed clothes, and her bedroom was dark, but she was wide awake.

“You’re both home!” she said, beaming. Wyatt lunged toward her and picked her up, twirling her in a circle. She laughed, her long blond hair flowing behind her and her blue eyes glowing with happiness. “Papa, you’re going too fast!”

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“And you’re up too late!” Wyatt said before he put her down and ruffled her hair. “Papa!” Bella complained, pushing his hand away. “I hate it when you do that!”

“How about you at least pretend to be sleeping tomorrow night, and I won’t mess with your hair? Deal?” Wyatt asked, looking down at his daughter with a raised eyebrow.

“No deal!” Bella said, laughing again. She started running around the room and making her way to the kitchen. “I like staying up late!”

“We noticed,” Lea said dryly. Wyatt choked back a laugh as Bella zoomed back into the room, somehow having lost a sock.

“All right, sprinter, it’s time for bed,” Wyatt said, wondering how she could have lost a sock so easily. The blue carpets that they had managed to add to their flat prevented anyone from slipping and sliding anywhere anymore.

Their flat was nice. He had built this inn himself over the course of a summer with help from some friends in the city. They had been reluctant at first, but the permanent discount he had promised at his bar had helped.

And now they’re my regulars, Wyatt thought as he watched his wife bring their daughter to her bedroom. He said goodnight to Bella and walked down his living room, admiring his work. Five years ago, he would have never dreamed this was possible, but here he was, living a different life. A better life.

The living room stretched from one end of the flat to the other, with the one end hosting Bella’s bedroom. Halfway down the living room was the washroom, and his and Lea’s bedroom at the other end. Beside their bedroom was a table with a board game out and his guitar. He strummed it absently before he placed it down, looking into the crackling fire of his fireplace.

After a while, he heard Lea join him, sitting in the chair next to him. “Bella wanted a story,” she said quietly, picking up on his pensive mood. “I told her the story of Keariset.”

“Again?”

“Yes,” Lea said. She reached off her chair, grabbed the poker leaning against the fireplace, and moved a few logs. The fire crackled, and a puff of embers spewed up and into the roof of the fireplace. She put the poker back and sat down. “It’s her favorite.”

“She wants to climb it,” Wyatt said. He closed his eyes and took the comfort of his fire, his wife, and the sounds of his busy bar a floor below him. “The first one to climb the tallest mountain in the world.”

“And who put that idea in her head?” Lea asked. She leaned on Wyatt and put her head on his shoulder. Wyatt put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “Who’s to blame?”

“Blame me,” Wyatt said, and he raised his wife’s chin with his finger. He stared into her eyes, and he felt himself falling. “It’s my fault.”

“It always is,” Lea said. The two moved to kiss until it suddenly went quiet down in the bar.

“You’d better check that,” Lea said, giving him a peck on the lips and pulling back. “Edd might need some help.”

“I need some help,” Wyatt muttered, standing awkwardly and glaring at his wife playfully. “You’re going to get in trouble one of these days.”

“Good thing I have you here when I need it,” Lea said, winking. Wyatt groaned and took a moment to calm himself down.

There was a pounding on their apartment door that made Lea jump. “Drunks again,” she muttered, shaking her head exasperatedly. “You’d think they would learn to stop.”

“I don’t think—” Wyatt began, until there was a pounding fist on the door again.

“Wyatt!” came a familiar voice. “This is Captain Nathanael of the Velaire Guard. Open up! We have a Mage here ready to conduct your daughter’s Testing!”

Ice coursed through Wyatt’s chest as he swore violently. They shouldn’t be here! Jor swore that they wouldn’t come!

“I-I thought you said,” Lea stuttered. Wyatt whirled at her, and she took a step back, visibly frightened.

“Go to Bella’s room and bring her to our bedroom,” he said softly, speaking with a calmness he didn’t feel. “I will deal with this.”

“Y-you said,” Lea repeated. Her face was white. Wyatt had never seen her so frightened. Wyatt took a step forward and wrapped her in a hug, which she returned desperately.

“I will handle this,” Wyatt said in her ear before he let go. “Go!”

Lea scampered across the carpet, remaining quiet as she went to Bella’s room. Wyatt watched her go. When Lea brought Bella back to their bedroom and closed the door, he walked across the hall. He purposefully walked with a heavier gait, patting his back as he walked to ensure that his knife was still there. It was. He thought about opening himself to his magic, a wild and untrained thing that he only used in great need.

There’s no greater need than protecting my family, Wyatt thought. He opened his magic and let himself fall into it.

It was chaos, a swirling deluge of color that threatened to sweep Wyatt away into the lowest depths of insanity. Wyatt gripped his knife firmly, focusing on the leather grip in his hand and using it to center himself. His magic was wild and untamed, a result of managing to hide his magic and never being trained. It was dangerous. He didn’t know how far he could go, and he didn’t want to.

I’d kill them all and burn this bar down with everyone still inside to save them.

The banging reverberated through Wyatt’s apartment once again, startling Wyatt out of his trance. “Open up!” came Captain Nathanael’s voice again. “This is your last warning!”

Wyatt took a deep breath, calming his raging magic and himself as best he could. Finally ready, he unlocked his door and opened it.