I could not move a muscle, faced with Darko’s sword. The merest sight of its blade was enough to turn my brain into mush. Was I being threatened? Holy hell.

“Darko,” Remy asked. “Isn’t that a bit much?”

Darko let the sword back into its sheath. “The third is the last of our options. I would rather not resort to killing you, Cill.”

I took a breath, brain filled with emergency chemicals.

“Ease up, Cill,” Remy said, offering me a smile. “We’ll take care of you, I promise. Quelling the Corruption is difficult, but it’s not as scary as Darko made it out to be.”

Darko nodded. “Then, I will repeat my question. Cill, do you wish to join me?”

My mouth twitched in a wordless attempt to convince someone of something. My eyes pointed at Darko’s waist, afraid to rise further. A poor negotiation strategy, but I didn’t exactly have the energy for proper posture. Luckily, Darko gave me plenty of time to figure out my thoughts.

“What will you want from me if I join?” I asked.

“Sharp and suspicious, eh?” Darko said. “I’m sure Remy would train you from the kindness of her heart if she so could. But you are correct. The three of us chase a mission. One that we will not abandon, whether you hold us back or not. Azetoth will die by our hands. I will obviously not tie you to a slave contract. But in return for your safekeeping, I expect your best contribution. You will, unfortunately, have to help us however you can.”

“Will I have to fight?”

“In one way or another,” Darko said. “If it helps you feel better, I promise this. I will not send you on missions alone, nor will the team rely on your skills. You’ll support our members the best you can, and we’ll protect you when you fail. I won’t force you into murdering a human. We fight cultists and monsters, and nothing else.”

I bit my lip, eyes turning towards the floor.

“Don’t look so gloomy, Cill,” Remy said. “We are mages. We fight from the backlines, away from the action. I’ll protect you. That’s a promise. The same goes for Shena.”

Shena nodded.

“Am I really free to leave whenever I wish?” I asked.

“As I said, I don’t hold my members on leashes,” Darko said. “I’ll be bitter if you sign up as a member of the Cult right as we’ve trained you, but Moons, I don’t think I have the right to complain after what my advice led you to in Volés. If you truly wish to leave after the Corruption is quelled, I give the permission. Even if I do ask you to stay.”

Curse you, Shiela, I thought, Curse you and your damn reincarnation.

“Then… I’m in, I guess,” I muttered at the floor.

Darko stared down at me. “Cill. Look at me.”

Hesitantly, I raised my head. I looked into Darko’s eyes. He made no gestures—simply stared at me for an uncomfortably long time, as if waiting for something.

“I… I’m in?” I said.

“What was that?” Darko asked. “I can’t hear you?”

“I accept the invitation,” I said.

“Do you really?” Darko asked, giving me an exaggerated grin. “I’m not sure if I heard that right.”

You asshole! I thought, having to stop anger from building. I knew exactly what this fucker was up to. My therapists had used the same damn strategy, and I hated it just as much back then. Darko required a loud and confident answer. As if screaming an oath would make me more invested in joining.

“I’ll join your goddamn team!” I said, forming the closest resemblance to a frown my face could show. “Can we stop now?”

Darko and Remy grinned. “Perfect,” Darko said. “Welcome to the team, Cill. We’re glad to have you.”

My brain could only interpret that as a lie. I couldn’t imagine a world where any group would be eager to have someone as miserable as I was. “Thanks for having me,” I said.

“I’m sorry for the speech, Cill. I hope you saw why it was necessary.” Darko smiled.

“Yes,” I said, already with a bad taste in my mouth.

“Your training with Remy will start by the end of today,” Darko said. “Before I can grant you the title of member, however, I have one small request. A test, if you will.”

I gulped.

Darko opened the lid to one of the cargo casks. “I don’t usually order my people against their will. I have but one order that I won’t see refused.”

From the barrel, he pulled out a dry, rock-hard piece of bread, then shoved it into my arms along with a cup of water. “Eat,” was all he said.

I inspected the bread for five seconds before attempting to hand it back. “I’m not hungry, thanks…”

“Bullshit,” Darko said. “You already refused one hot meal when we heated the pot. Moons know how many lunches you’ve skipped before then. I’ll stuff that bread down your throat if you’re not going to chew.”

A helpless pressure built up in my bones. Darko, this Shiela’s damned saint! Was he really putting me to this? Would he really force me to eat, like I was some toddler?

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The team stared me down as I forced a bite through the bread’s hard shell. Beneath the surface, I discovered the most tasteless and dry texture I’d ever eaten. I chewed and chewed, managing to swallow one bite only with the help of a steady flow of water. I was hungry; the bite made me aware of that.

God fucking dammit, I thought. Why was I like this? Why did my brain wish to throw the bread at Darko’s face and to argue still? The man was simply trying to feed me. I had to eat, whether I wanted to or not. If I ever wished to stand up again, Darko’s advice was exactly what I needed to follow.

That’s what made following it so humiliating.

“Um,” I said. My face must have been red, the excuse of a bread in hand. If I had to eat something, it wouldn’t be this. “You wouldn’t have any soup left?”

Darko nodded. “Shena, heat him a bowl.”

Fifteen minutes later, I ate my first proper meal, delivered in the form of unseasoned vegetable slop.

***

What followed was an honest wave of mixed emotions. Shame, disappointment, dejection. I half-heartedly scooped the remaining lines of slop glued to the edge of the bowl with my wooden spoon. The nutritional value left must have been worth less than atoms. I wasn’t eating as much as I was wasting time, pretending to look busy.

Was I always this damn miserable? If not for my panicked survival instinct kicking in from the sheer pressure of Darko’s frown, I’d still be starving myself, choosing to drown in my thoughts with absolutely no will to do anything at all.

Shiela be damned, but Darko actually managed to force out a yes from me. I promised to join his stupid adventure.

I had agreed to become a mage. A goddamned living weapon.

I’d have to train. I’d have to hide from maniac cultists looking to taste my mana chords. I’d likely have to kill some more. Toss more haphazard fireballs, hoping to God I didn’t kill one of my friends.

I had stopped scooping slop; at this point, I was just fiddling with the spoon. Do I even care? What if I just take his third option?

“Cill,” Darko said, having sensed that offering me more alone time could end in danger. “You are allowed to ask for seconds. My warnings may have sounded harsh, but believe it or not, we are not in a prison wagon.”

I handed back the bowl. “No, thank you. One was enough.”

Darko took the bowl with a smile. “First mission completed. That marks you as a full member. Welcome abroad.”

“Thanks,” I said. I added some volume to my words in hopes of avoiding another scolding, though I still struggled to find my normal voice.

“I’d love to organize a party, but unfortunately Shena refused to pack alcohol,” Darko said. “We’ll celebrate your arrival another day.”

“Alcohol is the last thing you two need,” Shena said.

Darko let out a laugh. “Right. And the second last thing we need is to talk plans and future. We’ll have to do just that. Cill, I hope you at least know the name of the group we’ve gotten you tangled with.”

“The cult of Azetoth,” I said.

“I also hope you understand you are not exactly a carefree citizen right now.”

“What do you mean?”

“You intruded the cult’s hideout,” Darko said. “You burned their church. You killed one of their Black Plates. Expensive men, as clumsy as they are. You’ve shown you’ve got hefty mana chords, and the cult has been actively kidnapping young mages lately. They are looking for you, and they won’t have a hard time. Your description and clothes stick out like a celibate Lashan caught in a Krose revel. I say we’ve got at most three days before you’re listed as the most wanted man in the cult’s papers.”

“I see,” I said. Rigrith, the bastard that ordered me for torture, would send people after me for sure. Assuming a convoy wasn’t already marching my way.

“We are all wanted by the cult with bounties on our names,” Darko said. “Last I checked, snatching me alive would earn the captor a hefty fifty gold marks. In my case, the bounty is actually a benefit. Locating cultists is not nearly as difficult when they’re also looking to catch you. I’m sure we can use your presence as a fantastic bait.”

“Darko, you aren’t doing a great job reassuring my student,” Remy said with a frown.

Darko laughed. “Don’t worry. The next few days will be simpler jobs in preparation for the audience in Arkber. The team needs achievements more than anything. In this regard, the operation in Volés was a huge success. We defeated an Archpriest with a royal witness. Afterward, Cillian revealed and destroyed a cultist operation all on his own, witnessed by practically the whole city.”

“That is to say, we are thankful,” Shena said. “Without you, Cillian, we would have looked over the church entirely. Dozens more would have ended as victims.”

I bit my lips and looked down. The team considered yesterday a success? The most terrifying, traumatic, and lossful day of my life was a success?

Rakash seemed to have recovered from the events just fine. She leaned against one of the bonnet’s thick support beams with a still expression, listening in, but not participating in the conversation. She wasn’t exactly brimming with smiles, but she was constantly active, having barely spent fifteen minutes in silence to mourn. Was I just too weak?

“I’m also sorry,” Darko said, lowering his head. “I know you didn’t exactly want to find the cultist operation. My intel on Jordan Feryah… To call it misinformation is an understatement. I am truly sorry for what I led you to. We’re all glad you are alive.”

“It’s fine…” I said. “You can forget it ever happened.”

Darko nodded. “If there’s any favor you need from me, I promise to deliver. For now, and I apologize again, I will thank you by commanding you around like an overly rude lieutenant. Your immediate job is to make sure the Wyvern Slayer won’t be known for nurturing a rogue mage with Hallowed chords. Stay safe from nonsense and learn. Remy is your new master. Take her orders as a child would his mother’s. Your lessons will start immediately, and they won’t stop before you’ve mastered casting.”

Remy grinned wide and posed with some sort of hand signal I didn’t understand.

I nodded half-heartedly. “Sounds good.”

“Rakash and Shena will help you however they can, and that goes for any topic, including or excluding magic.” Darko sat down on a barrel and leaned on his arm. “The gist is, I can’t have you moping under sacks of hay all day. A mage will not survive without a strong will. You, as is now, will fall off the tracks within a week. Do you think you can offer your strength to improve?”

“I will try my best,” I said with absolutely zero will behind my words.

Darko didn’t look convinced but nodded regardless. “We have a busy schedule ahead of us, and I’ve got plans for you I’d like to tell you to spend the day on some sleep, but rest will have to wait. Your training with Remy will start right away. Learn as much as you can during the trip before my complicated matters come and ruin the fun.”

Remy gave him a look. “And what could possibly be more complicated than the control of mana?”

“There is nothing more intricate than calculated law-breaking.” Darko grinned.

The dreadful feeling inside me only increased. Why the hell did I agree to any of this?

Fire Resistance - Seeing as you’re reading this, I presume you have not killed yourself with your first fireball. Hooray! You are now responsible and experienced enough to become a true pyromaniac. Fire Resistance grants you near-immunity to heat. Be careful, however. The hotter the flames, the more mana the upkeep of this spell requires. Attempt to sleep in a housefire nonchalantly, and you’ll find yourself stuck in a mana-exhausted slumber.

* Goddess Shiela’s description of the spell “Fire Resistance”