Marcus awoke to the early morning light streaming into his bedchamber. A knocking sound at his door shocked him awake.

"Young master Marcus, are you awake?" A muffled voice from the other side of the door asked.

"Yes. I am awake. Please come in, Jeevs." Marcus yawned as he stretched, his joints popping and cracking from inactivity while he slept. The heavy oak door groaned as it swung inward, an older gentleman in a black suit and bowtie entered.

His bald head was only accompanied by his magnificent grey mustache. The grace with which he bowed towards Marcus after entering spoke of the wisdom, experience, and age he accumulated through his years serving the Aristocratic Family Santelia.

Marcus glanced around his room as Jeevs got his outfit for the day ready. It wasn't the most lavishly decorated room, but everything in it spoke of wealth. From his poster bed with silk sheets to his Astra Wood table and chairs.

Even the rug was made of Badger Bear fur. He shuddered to think of how many losses it took to take down a den of Badger Bears for the rug. Every den could have anywhere from six to nine of the things.

"Still thinking about the rug, young master?" Jeevs asked. Marcus blinked and realized he had been staring at the rug for too long.

"My apologies, Jeevs." Marcus turned to the outfit laid out on the bed. "I was just thinking about how many men it must have taken to clear out a den of those things."

"An apology is hardly necessary, young master." Jeevs straightened his cuffs and collar. "Your father hired only the best of mercenaries in Santelia. I heard they took no losses and only had one man in critical condition."

"Ah." Marcus clicked his tongue. "I see father went to outrageous lengths to acquire that rug."

"Only the best for the young master." Jeevs bowed. "Please don today's outfit. It seems you have a meeting with your father this morning."

Marcus blanched at that. Meetings with his father were always a hassle. Despite being called the lord's favored child, of which he scoffed at, it seems his father was no less strict with him than he was with his brothers.

"Come now, young master." Jeevs said after seeing Marcus's expression. "It is not entirely for the worse. It would seem today's topic is about where you might be posted after your coming-of-age ceremony."

"Ah. Perhaps it would indeed be fitting to dress for the occasion." Marcus glanced at the outfit in question. It was of course, nice formalwear. A black suit with golden trim and a white undershirt to wear with black breeches. He of course had his formal footwear to wear with it, but chose his comfortable boots, black of course, to wear with it. "If I have to be in this stuffy outfit, my feet might as well be comfortable."

"Of course, young master. Wait one moment while I adjust your outfit." Jeevs said as he bent down to tie off Marcus's breeches just above his ankle. It was of course to hide the fact that he was even wearing boots in the first place. No one would be able to tell he was wearing boots just from the front and bottoms, so with a little bit of effort it would look like even his shoes were formal.

Marcus stood in front the dressing mirror and examined his outfit. Presentable. Certainly not the best, but it didn't have to be. It wasn't as if he were meeting with higher nobility. His father just had a greater sense of propriety and noble etiquette than he did. Shrugging, Marcus started heading out of his room, but paused when he got to the door. He took a look around and sighed.

"Is something the matter, young master?" Jeevs asked.

"For some reason, I just feel like this will be the last day I spend in this room." Marcus furrowed his brow. "Come along Jeevs, must be one of those days."

"Your father requested some other tasks of me, young master." Jeevs bowed. "My apologies, but you will have to make your way to his study on your own."

"Nothing to apologize for Jeevs." Marcus waved his hand lazily in a gesture of dismissal. He made his way down the hallway, his boots echoing loudly off the stone. Various paintings of the family decorated the halls tastefully. Daylight streamed through the windows of the hall, half illuminating him as the sun was still beginning its morning climb through the sky.

"Hmm, I can get to father's office sooner if I cut through the sitting room." Marcus muttered, he paused and looked out the window. "It is an hour or so after sun rise. My brothers must be having their morning tea in the sitting room. Ever the conspirators those two. Still, it is the fastest route."

Having made up his mind, Marcus continued his walk. He entered the kitchens where the chefs were busy cleaning up the remains of breakfast. He snagged a piece of toast to munch on as he made his way out of the kitchen and through the dining room.

The dining room was lavishly furnaced and an elongated oval shaped table dominated the center of the room. Currently there were twelve chairs spaced evenly around it, but it could be increased to twenty-four in a pinch.

It was all better than the Astra Wood the furniture in his room was made of, but then again, this area frequently saw guests. Only present your best to visitors, lest they think poorly of you as a host and in character, That's what his father always said anyways.

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At the far end of the dining room was the hall to the sitting room and beyond that, his father's study. The other side of the hall led to the main entrance and several more halls until he reached his own chambers. Truly a longer route through the castle.

As he was approaching the sitting room, he could hear his brothers having an animated talk. He crept right up to the door and place his ear against it.

"I do think our brother is about to have his coming of age ceremony, George!" His brother Geoff said. Geoff, and George were twins born about four years earlier than he. They happened to be visiting when ordinarily they would be managing their father's holdings in the Deep Weald.

"Ah, yes. It is a terrible shame." George replied with fake sympathy. "A shame that his posting will be delegated to us brothers to figure out that is!" Both brothers began laughing as if it was the funniest thing they ever heard. Marcus, on the other hand, was mortified.

He never really got along with the twins and they in turn antagonized him every chance they got. It had gotten worse after their mother had passed from a disease that had gotten out of hand in the region a decade ago. But this was a step too far.

Marcus entered the room, a carefully crafted neutral expression on his face. His brothers turned to face him.

"Ah, there you are Marcus! Father is expecting you!" George said with some glee on his face.

"Has been for hours, according to what we heard!" Geoff added.

"Better get in there before he gets any angrier!" They both said in unison, a nasty grin on their faces. Marcus shook his head at their antics. They were just trying to get a rise out of him. He of course, did not let it get under his skin.

He strode to the door leading to his father's study and knocked on it three times. A muffled voice from within called out and said, "Enter."

Opening the heavy door he was greeted with his father's spacious and well decorated study. There were shelves filled with histories, reference books, and treatise on tactics. His fathers desk occupied nearly a quarter of the room by itself. It was made of an extremely sturdy wood called Metalwood. It looked exactly like wood but had the sturdiness of steel.

The desk itself had room for at least three reference books opened end to end and still be able to write. All manner of writing implements were contained in special holders within arms reach of the studios scholar.

As Marcus shut the door to the study, he realized his father was not alone. A man who towered over his father in height alone was also in the room. As the man turned to face him, Marcus gasped. His face was covered in many scars and his frame was so huge that even his own armor didn't fit him correctly in some places.

"So, this the twerp, Alfonse?" The man asked his father. His voice was deep and rough. The result of over-abusing his vocals cords for a long period of time. You could probably sand down a plank of wood with his voice if you really tried.

"Hmm, quite. My problematic son." His father replied. Also turning to face Marcus. "Come, stand front an center, Marcus."

And Marcus obeyed. One did not question their father. As he stood in front of them both he realized just how different they were. His father was tall and slim, his suit tailored to perfection. The gold-rimmed glasses and sharp nose on his face as well as the wisdom in his brown eyes belied the manner of man who had never stepped foot on the battlefield.

Still one would only think that had they just met him. Marcus knew better. His father had led many a sortie against would be bandit kings and small patches of rebels who had thoughts and delusions of grandeur. His father was not one afraid to get his hands dirty. Thus being why he had been given reign over one of the castles at the border of the kingdom.

"Hmm. Yes. He will do nicely, Alf." His father's guest laughed, it was a meaty sort of laugh. As if every organ in his body had contributed to it. It made all the hairs of Marcus stand up on end.

"Impossible. I have great plans for him. Choose someone else, Argus." His father replied stiffly. The man narrowed his eyes and a frown creased his face.

"I must have him. He absolutely reeks of potential." Argus said, "and besides, you owe me one Alfonse. And I think it high time to collect."

"How about this?" His father proposed. "We let the boy choose. After all, self determination is a cornerstone of my family. Let it not be said that no man did not have the freedom to choose his own path. After all, my grandfather is the reason we are an aristocratic family, instead of farmers as his parents were."

"That..is not actually a bad idea, old man." Argus teased merrily. What say you boy? Do you have the guts to leave this all behind and join my mercenary company?"

"Father?" Marcus was incredibly confused.

"It is a simple choice, my boy." His father simply said. "This could be your chance to be something more than you could be, stuck here in this family. After all, one of your brothers is going to inherit the title and lands. You could stay here and just perform minor clerical duties, as I am sure they are wont to assign you."

"No! Of course not!" Marcus shook his head. Having heard his brothers earlier, he was easily sure which posting they would give him. This was unexpected, but could still be to his fortune, if he played his cards right. "I will go with the mercenary!"

"Hah! Do you even know who I am boy!" Argus laughed and slapped his knee. "Your father and I go way back. Did you know he ran away from home and joined up with the mercenary company the same time I did?"

"No?" Marcus answered questioningly. His father never talked about himself much, so even finding out he had been in a mercenary company greatly surprised him.

"The Dancing Deklans! And I am the leader, Argus Fletcher. Heh." Argus introduced himself and Marcus's eyes widened. Who hasn't heard of the Dancing Deklans? They were one of the best companies, if not the best! "Anyways, you in or out kid?"

"I-it would be my honor!" Marcus bowed. He could make a name for himself one day attached to such a famous company. Play his cards right indeed. "Father, I wish to join this man and his company."

"Well Argus, consider that favor paid." His father said before looking directly at Marcus. "You do know that joining a mercenary company means leaving all of this behind? To no longer be a Santelia?"

"Yes father!" Marcus nodded. According to the laws of the Kingdom of Dinus, no mercenary may have a noble title and lands. Should a mercenary be offered title and land by their king and accept, they would need to retire as a mercenary. It was to prevent other kingdoms from hiring them to share secrets of state or other internal politics. And it worked pretty well.

"I see. Then henceforth you are Marcus, formerly de Santelia. May you find fortune on the field of battle." His father bowed his head and then turned to Argus. "Seeing as I had to give up my most favored son, you and the boy shall have to leave...after supper."

"Heh, wouldn't have it any other way." Argus replied.