As I made my way toward them, Barry noticed me first.

  “Oh, finally,” he said with a grin. “Our sergeant is here. Come to check on us, Ed?”

  I was already fuming, breath coming hard and shallow.

  “WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?” I shouted.

  They all turned toward me.

  “I didn’t expect you to cry for your fellow squadmates,” I continued, my voice shaking with rage, “but I did expect at least a little decency. Enough not to joke about them. They died protecting this country. And here you are, laughing, bragging, talking about it like it meant nothing.”

  “Calm down, Edward,” Kael said, stepping closer and patting my shoulder. “We were just joking.”

  “Calm down?” I snapped, jerking away from his touch. “Your fucking joking is exactly the problem. You’re acting like nothing happened. Like no one died. Maybe the others were right to treat you all with indifference.”

  The words left my mouth before I could stop them.

  For a moment, no one spoke.

  Then Varric stood.

  He rose slowly, deliberately, towering over me as he stepped closer. My head barely reached his chest. I tilted my gaze up to meet his eyes.

  “It was nothing to us,” he said calmly, his voice cutting through the silence.

  “You should have treated us with indifference,” he continued. “If you think any of them mattered to us, you’re wrong. I’ve killed men like them before. So has Garran. Barry and Kael are here because of men like them.”

  He leaned closer, his shadow swallowing me.

  “I didn’t stop making things difficult because I grew a conscience. I stopped because you treated us like humans. You gave us armor. Antidotes. You healed Kael. You worked alongside us in the trenches. That made me interested.”

  His face was inches from mine now.

  “Interested in seeing how your path ends. And how you die.”

  I barely heard the rest of what he said.

  My mind was stuck on his first words.

  It was nothing to us.

  Slowly, I slid my right hand into my pocket, ignoring the pain screaming through my injured arm. My fingers closed around the badge. The one that allowed me to enforce the mana oath.

  “I don’t care about your past,” I said through clenched teeth. “I don’t care that you hate Walter and Jack. But the new recruits accepted you. They gave you a place in the squad.”

  “So?” Barry scoffed. “They were afraid of us. We’ve lost more people than you can count. We knew them for less than three months. You won’t find me crying over them.”

  Then Varric smiled.

  “Let me be clear,” he said. “I don’t just not care about their deaths. I’m fucking glad Walter and the sergeant died.”

  Something inside me snapped. I wanted to punish him for saying those words, for disrespecting Walter.

  I started forcing whatever mana I could through my still-injured arm and into the badge as my grip tightened.

  “Go on,” Varric said, grabbing my shoulder. “Use it. I know you have the badge. I’ve known since the start.”

  His grip tightened.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “If you can’t use it on us,” he said quietly, “then you shouldn’t be on the battlefield. You’re not fit for combat. And you’re not fit to lead us.”

  I wanted to.

  God, I wanted to.

  But I didn’t know what command to give.

  So instead, I shoved his hand away with my left arm and did the only thing I’d been doing since I woke up.

  I walked away.

  Lost in anger and the pain in my right arm, I did not know where I was going. I walked without thinking, my boots carrying me forward until someone grabbed my shoulder.

  “Hey, Edward. Where is your head?” a voice said. “I’ve been calling your name.”

  I blinked and turned. It was Melvin, one of the guards assigned to the infirmary. He looked at me with mild concern.

  “Sorry,” I said quietly. “I was thinking about something.”

  “The lieutenant wants to see you as soon as possible,” he said, giving my shoulder a brief pat. “He’s in the command building, Company Eleven’s office. I’m heading back to the infirmary.”

  I nodded and turned toward the command building.

  The halls were quieter than usual, the chaos of the wounded slowly settling into a dull, constant hum. When I reached Company Eleven’s office, I knocked once and entered.

  Lieutenant Cicero sat behind his desk, wearing the same expensive fur-lined coat as always, its dark fabric untouched by blood or grime.

  “Sir,” I saluted, half-heartedly.

  He frowned, just for a moment.

  “Close the door, Sergeant,” he said. “I wanted to meet you earlier, but with so many injured, time was limited.”

  I closed the door and stood at attention again.

  “Did you read the books I gave you?” he asked.

  I shook my head.

  “I did not.”

  “I didn’t expect that from you,” he said, studying me.

  “I can also see that you haven’t gone through your class trial. I had other matters to discuss, but it’s clear something else is bothering you. You look worse than you did when you were training under me without sleep.”

  He leaned back slightly.

  “This was your first real battle, correct?” he asked. “Is there something you want to talk about?”

  Normally, I wouldn’t have said anything. I had known him for barely three days before this. But I was exhausted. Lonely. Walter was dead. I no longer worked under Lieutenant Fenward, so I could not even go to him to speak.

  More than anything, I wanted to get past all of this. I felt stuck. I wanted to be able to do something, anything, instead of running from everything.

  “Everything, sir,” I said at last.

  I held up the medal.

  “I lost the man who taught me how to fight. This medal,” I said, my fingers tightening around it, “was given to me for saving the squad. But no one mentioned that I failed half of them.”

  My voice wavered, but I kept going.

  “I’m now in charge of criminals I thought I understood. I was wrong. I thought they could show empathy, but now I think they only deserve the way they treat others. I don’t know what happened to my friends in Stonegate. The only one I could check on is still unconscious, and I don’t even know if he’ll wake up.”

  I swallowed.

  “And I’m not sure I’m fit for combat. Much less fit to lead.”

  For a moment, I thought I saw amusement cross his face. But he raised a hand before I could react.

  “In the army,” he said calmly, “it is rare to see someone show emotion. With me, that is fine. But do not make a habit of it. Others will see it as weakness.”

  He paused.

  “Let me relieve at least one of your worries. Your friend will survive.”

  I froze.

  “This battle may even become a blessing for him,” Cicero continued. “He was injured because he was too close to the fight between two Tier Four earth-affinity beasts, one of them possessing a superior bloodline. He has earth affinity as well, correct?”

  I nodded.

  “His body is undergoing changes. In my opinion, this is a one-in-a-million case. His affinity may rise to a higher tier. He may even form a core.”

  He met my eyes.

  “Your friend may become a noble someday.”

  Relief crashed over me. For the first time in twenty days, I had heard good news. Real news. I felt my chest loosen, just a little.

  “As for killing your squad,” Cicero said, “you did not kill them. The Shadow Cats did.”

  He leaned forward.

  “Half of your squad survived because of you, whether you accept that or not. That medal represents that truth. Fighting two Tier Three beasts and six Tier Two beasts after your sergeant fell is no small feat.”

  He continued, his voice steady.

  “As for remaining in combat, that is your choice. I will not force you. I am a healer myself, and I see great potential in you as one. If you wish, I have enough influence to transfer you fully into the infirmary. You may lose your sergeant position, but there would be no major repercussions.”

  Then his tone hardened.

  “But understand this. Before this fort existed, entire villages were wiped out every year. Stonegate alone lost hundreds of thousands during past beast tides. What you did out there matters far more than you think.”

  He studied me for a moment.

  “As for your ability to lead,” he said, “that is my responsibility now. And I believe you have what it takes to lead a combat unit. In fact, I believe you may be more qualified than most.”

  His words echoed something Walter once told me.

  I just want you to live through this beast tide. And when you become a sergeant, remember this conversation. Lead with your head, but value your squad’s lives like you did on that expedition.

  I took a deep breath, steadying myself, no longer paying attention to the ache in my arm or the weight on my chest.

  “Hm,” Cicero said, noticing the change. “Now that I have your attention, let me tell you the real reason I called you here.”

  “While I do not question your ability to lead, it is also a fact that you are too young and inexperienced for a sergeant’s responsibilities. I called you here to clarify why you were given this posting.”