The Citadel is a place of wonder, I tell you. Sprawling streets of gold, set between massive towers of ivory. It's said that their University has taught the greatest [Mages] known to history. That their libraries are filled with books, reaching back into the ages. Centuries of knowledge, some- from civilizations that no longer exist. From languages already forgotten: all perfectly preserved by magic. Up there, are spells, technology, and inventions, far as the eye can see. Enough to make the world below look as though we're all primitive savages: nothing more than goblins, tying rocks to sticks, and playing games of war.

I suspect half of the reasons the Empire wants to bring the Citadel down, can be traced back to simple jealousy.

The other half, though, probably have a lot to do with the fact that the city keeps flying away from their tax collectors.

.........

That night, tour of the fort completed, the Baron left me at a small room.

Tucked in beside the northern hall of the fort, it was half the size of servant quarters I'd seen, and oddly placed, to boot.

At first, I thought that, perhaps, it had once been a closet. Either that, or some sort of storage room, repurposed, multiple times over, for whatever need happened to call upon it. With a wooden door set about an awkward frame, it was walled in to make use of the pocket of empty space where two walls didn't quite meet. Set at the base of a set of stairs, with no other rooms near it, the room certainly seemed an oddity.

The northern hall stretching a good ways in one direction, and stairs rising up in the other, it was isolated from almost anything of value.

"First light, every morning: I expect you in the yard like the rest of them." The Baron instructed. "After, I want you in the hall. I expect you to stay there, until I dismiss you."

"Understood, Baron." I answered.

"Understood... Look at you: the perfect image of a dutiful servant. As if you wouldn't try to knife me, the second you thought it might actually work." He snorted at the thought. "I'll bet some might actually fall for it."

One foot on the stairs, he seemed almost ready to leave, before he turned back. I waited, as he let the torch in his hand pass by my face. 

"From the story they told me, to the way they dragged you in... At first I believed it was the [Sailor] who did-in that fucking wolf. But, I've been thinking." He let the fire sit right beside my face, uncomfortably close. "Horrible fucking beasts, those are. If you're too strong and go hunting for them alone, they won't come out at all. Instead, they'll hide." He stared at me, moving the torch closer, until I thought my skin might burn. "The only good way to kill those beasts, is to trick them. To play the part of what they're hunting for, instead."

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I didn't move, as his expression turned deadly.

"I expect you to do what I tell you, when I tell you." The Baron stated, as the fire licked the air painfully beside my cheek. "I expect you to earn your keep."

"Yes, Baron."

"Yes, Baron... I know what you are, John." His eyes narrowed as he pulled the torch away at last, to set it down on an iron bracket on the wall. "So, you'd best make yourself useful."

With that, he left.

I watched him go, step by step, up the stairs. Waiting, I willed myself to be the perfect image of patience, but as the sound of boots on stone grew farther and farther away, I found it was that much more difficult to hold back the panic.

When I was certain he wasn't coming back, with a shaking hand I pulled the door of new residence closed behind me.

"God damn." I whispered, as the fear slowly settled. Slumping down onto the floor, I relied on the backdrop of an enclosed space and the backing of a wooden door, useless as these probably were, to calm my nerves.

I'd made it through the day without getting my head mounted on a pike.

There was always tomorrow, though

I'd never been a smoker, but I felt the strangest urge to start- saying the option was available. Head leaning back to touch the door, I tried my best to slow the heavy drumbeat in my chest to a more managable level.

One day at a time.

Tomorrow morning, I'd go to the yard. Presumably, for training, as I'd seen several people practicing there. So, that meant swinging a sword, or practicing with a spear. I was reasonably confident I could handle that. The concept wasn't new to me.

After that, though... I was less sure about the hall.

It was likely the time that the Baron used for issuing orders. Governing an area of any decent size, and it fit that there would be a long list of tasks to assign. Just a guess, but I suspected he wasn't going to trust me with any of those. If that was the case, then I was reasonably confident I could handle that, too.

But, after?

I didn't have a clue.

Earn my keep, and make myself useful.

Eyes settling into the dark, I could see out the window of the room. Past a small bunk, built across from a tightly fit desk and a set of shelves, the view overlooked the town. The sight of speckled lights. Fires and candles burning, down and away from the fort. People going about their lives...

Slumping with my back to the door, I let out a long held in breath of air. Running a hand through my hair, I shook my head.

An entire day, following the man around, and I still wasn't sure what the Baron actually wanted. He might be willing to keep me alive, for the time being, and he seemed to consider me valuable: but he'd never once stated what his goals were.

"Earn your keep." I repeated the vague instruction, upon which my survival was likely tied.

Frustratingly non-specific.

I tapped the pommel of my dagger, before lifting out a hand in the dark. The weight of it on my hip, even seated on the floor, was reassuring.

A weapon, a tool...

25/100

Focusing, I let that familiar pattern rise, with the beating of fire in my chest.

Above my palm, a small flame came to life. Weaker than a candle, it shifted as the window's breeze rolled in, forcing me to cup my hands and hold it close. Protected from the outside world, the fire rippled like a tiny comet in freefall, inches from my face.

A tiny impossibility, defying all logic.

Focusing, I held it there. I fed it, until I could take my hands away, and let it resist on its own. No longer sheltered, no longer contained by my palm: floating in the air before my eyes.

24/100

Slowly, so as not to smother it, I exhaled again. Letting the air in my lungs, feed into the flicker of heat, and make it stronger.

Stronger still.

23/100

It danced and spun as the air passed it by. Sputtering, as it struggled.

Weak, but brave. Unable to survive as it was, but unwilling to die quite yet: my magic fought.

[Skill - Rank up] - [Lesser Flame - Lvl 2]

"Make myself useful, huh?" I whispered. "Alright."

I could work with that.