Marek stared at the door, not wanting to talk or do anything but think. Those around him reflected his mood. Ako, Wyatt, and Anton were all lying down or sitting, staring at anything but each other.

It isn’t as though there is much to look at in here, Marek thought, glancing around at the darkwood walls and floors. Ako was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. She had the sheets tucked up to her chin, and occasionally, she would shiver as if a draft had swept through the room.

Marek’s gaze hardened at that.

No one should go through that, he thought angrily. A deep sense of satisfaction settled in his gut. Marek and Ako’s gazes met, a smile came more easily to Marek’s face than it probably should’ve. Ako’s return smile was a weak thing, like a flickering candle trying its utmost to stay lit.

I butchered them like animals, Marek thought, turning his head away from Ako. If he closed his eyes for a moment, he could see everything that had taken place as if it had been moments ago, rather than three hours.

Things had changed since he had saved Loraine six months ago. Marek had grown more powerful and more confident in himself. That was reflected in how he traveled around the world. Self-serving women and men like Loraine flocked to him even if he didn’t use or reveal his magics. Marek recalled a lesson given by Marast, where he had gone off-topic on a lesson on Alchemy and instead spoken about appearances.

What is our greatest weapon? Marast asked, his eyes flickering from between his silent students. He was wearing his traditional red robes, but they rolled up as he stood in front of a shimmering cauldron.

Marek glanced around the small room, which was below ground at the Citadel. The walls were made of stone and had no adornment save several large mirrors. Marast used them to allow his half-dozen students to see multiple angles of how he stirred or chopped something. No one shifted or moved, all standing beside their own simmering cauldrons and waiting for the other to answer. Shrugging, Marek raised a hand.

“Our magic?”

Marast nodded slowly, a smile weaving its way onto his face. “Good guess, but no,” he said. Marek kept his face even but felt his face redden. “Anyone else?”

He barely waited a few more seconds before he answered the question himself. “It is our bearing!” he said, raising his voice and making most of the room jump. If he noticed, he didn’t seem to care as his eyes were locked onto Marek’s with an intimidating stare, which made him feel very small.

“Yes,” Marast said when no one said anything. Our bearing matters more than anything else. "There have been more than a few that have snuck into the Citadel for their own reasons—nefarious or otherwise—while wearing brown or even red robes." Marast scoffed at the idea, and a few other students snickered. “Obviously, they didn’t get far,” Marast said dryly, indicating his own red robes.

“But yes, appearances matter too, but not as much as one’s bearing. If you go into a room and act like you belong—you will belong. Of course, it matters whether you are well dressed or if you physically fit the part, but it’s your bearing that matters above all else.

Now, back to the lesson—

It had taken a long time for Marast’s advice to sink in, but after he had left Malda, he had used it. Guided by his amulet, his intuition, and bearing had led him across the world, getting him out of scrapes almost as efficiently as flexing his magic did.

And this is where it has led me to.

He had looked and acted the part as a Mage, and as a Mage, he had killed for the first time to protect someone he didn’t know. Someone who was in trouble, who had just lost someone dear to her. It was the amulet that had led him to Ako. He would never have heard of what happened most likely—just continued on his way. Instead, he had fought through the crowd and managed to arrive just in time.

Marek looked again at Ako. Her eyes were closed, and her face was relaxed as she slept. She had smooth olive skin and lush dark hair. Marek didn’t feel anything toward her but an odd sense of protectiveness, like she was his charge and he should do his utmost to protect her.

His amulet was still warm. He placed a hand on it, feeling its comforting presence. Noam’s presence, which seemed to give him a sense of approval at his actions and even what he was planning.

Noam’s approval was like the sun itself, comforting in its heat. It hadn’t led him astray the last six months. If he kept following its guidance, Marek didn’t think it ever would.

“She’s strong,” Wyatt said, breaking the silence. Marek looked up to see Wyatt looking at him with a knowing look. “She’s stronger than you think.”

“I hope so,” Marek said. He closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “I don’t know what to do, Wyatt. I didn’t plan on stopping here. I planned on going to Mesaai as soon as possible. I wanted to take a journey along the Northern Sea and visit Northerspire. With Ako, it throws all of my plans in flux.”

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“So, you don’t regret saving her?”

“Of course not!” Marek snapped, but he calmed as he realized that Wyatt was just making sure. “Of course not,” Marek repeated calmly and more quietly. “If people were sent to find Ako, more will come. It may be difficult to leave the city.”

“What do you want to do?” Wyatt pressed. “Where do you want to go?”

Anton, who had been staring aimlessly at a wall, perked up at this, straightening in his chair. “Yeah,” Anton said, smiling brightly. It seemed forced, but it was better than nothing. “Where to, Marek?”

“I think… if you and Anton are with us?” Marek asked. Wyatt gave him a short nod, and Marek plowed on. “I think we should proceed as I previously planned,” Marek said slowly, considering where else to go. He did not want to visit the Seldalarian Empire anytime soon, or at least not yet. While relatively small, the Empire was by far the strongest nation in the world and detested magic users. If I let them, they’ll put me in a cage and trot me out whenever they need to put down another rebellion.

Wyatt nodded at this. “I agree,” he said with a smile. “It looks like you finally have your Company after all, Marek.”

Marek smiled back, but there was no joy in it. He felt almost sick to his stomach. “We will talk about it later,” Marek said. In the corner of his eye, he saw Anton begin to speak, but a glance from Wyatt quietened him. “In the morning. I do not wish to speak of it now, Wyatt. If you and Anton are in, then you are in. We will hash out the details later.”

Wyatt nodded again, and the conversation ceased. Marek absently turned away, staring back at the door yet again as his thoughts raced. Even though he didn’t want to talk about it, the mercenary company that had been at the back of his mind for nearly two years was suddenly all he could think about.

With Wyatt, Anton, and from what I saw of Ako along with myself, that is the beginning of a formidable mercenary company.

The thought was tantalizing, even if Marek deeply regretted how it happened. Still, now that it had, it was best to look forward and to do his utmost not to let them down.

Marek still didn’t understand why exactly it was a mercenary company that he had wanted to lead. He could’ve done almost anything else, and it would’ve been easier. Friendship and comradery were a big part of it, as they were two things that didn’t exactly happen in the Citadel. There was something else, something integral that was missing from the equation.

Control, Marek realized with some degree of embarrassment. I want to be in control of my own destiny for once. It wasn’t something he was proud of but being a leader to other people was something that he wanted, but on his own terms. Being a mage ensured that he would always be spoken to, but never would it be without whispers continually dogging him. How his powers made him someone that had to be respected, not out of respect but fear.

And as a Captain of my own Company, I would be respected on my own merits. Plus, he didn’t have to tell anyone about his powers. If he needed them, he would use them, but why advertise something that he could keep hidden in his back pocket.

At that thought, the amulet’s heat spiked, and Marek once again felt a warm sense of approval in the back of his mind before it receded. Marek could only hope that would not change in the future, as tomorrow would no doubt be one of the first tests of many for his new Company.