34. Chapter Thirty-Four

Several weeks later, I received a summons from my commander while I was in the middle of my weekly rounds.

After I wrapped things up with Roshana, I made my way back to HQ. Before I could even raise my fist to knock, I heard my commander call through the door.

“Come in, Captain Vistarii.”

I knew damn well that he had very expensive wards set up to alert him of the presence and identity of visitors (or eavesdroppers) nearby, but that didn’t make it any less alarming. I could have sworn that he took advantage of it sometimes, just to be as ominous as possible.

“Afternoon, sir,” I said as I stepped inside his spacious office quarters, closing the door behind me. I felt the slightest brush of aether as the wards re-sealed and soundproofed the room automatically. Convenient, that. I almost wished that I could justify the Lyra for that complex spellwork in my own office, but considering I could do the same thing manually using my own arcana, it felt a bit frivolous.

“Please, take a seat,” Hanjae instructed, motioning to the chairs across from his desk. The broad expanse of wood was littered with maps and missives.

Though his tone was friendly, it was also more formal than usual, and my pulse quickened. Immediately I began to run through a mental checklist, trying to remember if I had done anything particularly egregious under the table as of late. Was I about to be disciplined? Did one of my men fuck something up?

Gods, I hoped that nobody was hurt.

“The training program that your lieutenants put together has been approved. We took it all the way to High General Demitrovic for review, and he’s pleased that we’ve managed to come up with a counter-strategy to the rebel threat so quickly. He sends his regards.”

I blinked, momentarily caught off-guard. Regards from the High General? That was just about the closest thing you could get to praise from the stoic, strategic mastermind who led the Elder Guard.

“That was fast,” I murmured, more to myself than anything. Introducing new training regimens often took weeks, if not months to be fully approved.

“You and your men are doing excellent work, Kieran. If I may speak plainly, your unit consistently outperforms the others when it comes to mission success rate, and you’re often leading the charge on significantly more complex and delicate matters. That is no small feat,” Hanjae began again, clear approval passing through his stern gaze. “You’re still young, Vistarii, but I have to ask. Have you considered what’s next in your career path?”

“With all due respect, sir, the success of my unit has less to do with me and more to do with my men. They’re highly skilled and doubly dedicated to the work we do—all of the credit belongs to them.”

“That’s not what your men say, Kieran. Nor is that what’s been observed.” I opened my mouth to argue, but my commander continued before I could interrupt. He knew me too well.

“Yes, your hand-selected group of individuals are exceptional, I do not deny that. You’re also a natural born leader, and you’ve built a culture of deep trust and respect. And every single one of them attributes their recent successes to you. There is a reason I promoted you so early on in your career, Kieran—and you’ve clearly risen to the challenge.”

My skin prickled with discomfort, unsure of how to process this unexpected turn of conversation. I had braced myself for bad news, not… excessive compliments. I took great pride in my work, yes—it was one of the few things that I took seriously. In many ways, defending Sophrosyne was my life’s purpose. To hear I was doing it well was an honor, and yet I struggled to attribute these outcomes to anything I had done right. And a natural born leader? No. Certainly not. Quite the opposite. I had been born a coward, though I’d fought tooth and nail to overcome that. If anything, I was just following a few good examples that I had lucked into having over the last decade or so.

Commander Ka seemed to be studying me closely as I sat in silence, trying not to ruminate on certain memories that threatened to escape their assigned compartments, locked away in the back of my mind.

“I don’t mean to put pressure on you, Kieran. As I said, you’re still young—the youngest captain the Elder Guard has ever seen, as far as I’m aware. But if you are interested in furthering your career, elevating your rank in the years to come… that is something we could begin to train you for as early as next month. There will be opportunities for you to sit in on some higher level discussions soon.”

My mouth ran dry. I knew he hadn’t intended to put me on the spot, but if Hanjae was already considering setting up training, he likely expected an answer from me sooner rather than later. Fuck.

“I must admit, Commander… when I joined the Guard, it was not for the sake of personal ambition. I was just looking to serve and protect the city I love. To put my talents to good use.”

“I know exactly why you joined the Guard, Kieran,” Hanjae replied quietly.

That was unfortunately more accurate than I would have liked it to be. Commander Ka understood my motivations more than anyone. He knew why I had worked so hard, he knew exactly what led me to climb rank so fast and so young… and so I held my tongue.

“There is also the matter of my men. As you said, the Scouting amp; Recon unit tends to handle the most delicate missions, and they’re often the most dangerous. If I were to advance… I’d need a damn good captain to take my place. To keep them safe. Neither Deering or Fairchilde are fully ready to take that on, and I would need more time to train them. Especially now.”

As I trailed off, there was a glimmer of admiration that passed through Hanjae’s expression, and my gut churned. What he didn’t realize was that there was also an extremely selfish part of me that knew moving up from captain to commander would obliterate any semblance of free time that I had.

Six months ago, that would have been a welcome adjustment, truthfully. I had already often found myself staying late and working overtime on purpose back then. Work was a welcome distraction from the empty hours I had previously spent alone. And I enjoyed my work. I really did. It was just that lately, I had been enjoying something else far more.

Selfish bastard.

“Nothing needs to be set in stone today, Captain,” my commander replied. “I’m simply gauging your interest. I want you to know that your talents have been recognized by my peers and superiors. They’re seeing the potential in you that I always have.”

He had always thought far too highly of me.

“I am not opposed to the idea, Hanjae. I swore an oath to serve, and I stand by that oath—my loyalty belongs to Sophrosyne, sword and soul,” I said slowly. “I just need a little more time to think. I haven’t exactly thought that far ahead in the future.”

He gave me a curt nod, though I could see the understanding in his eyes, and appreciated that more than he would ever know. He was the only mentor I had left, and despite all of my self-doubt and loathing, I really wanted to make him proud. I would never live up to his expectations—or this pedestal that he’d seemed to place me on—but I could sure as Hel try.

Because now, more than ever, I owed Sophrosyne everything I had.