War, the other fascination of men that I never quite understood until later in my life. Its danger, which seemed to enthrall some, was what kept me away from it for the most part.

My father had been a soldier, certainly, but in peacetime and nowhere near the border when he served outside of the castle. For that matter, there hadn't been a war for almost a century. The last war was just a result of a trade dispute with Neo-Landian merchants and there were no soldiers alive from that time. The only knowledge we had of real war were their memories.

War, it seemed, had a nasty habit of needless slaughter that never quite appealed to me. The casualties were often listed as numbers to be counted rather than names to be said. At the time, it had seemed rather callous to me and I had no wish to partake in it. It had left a gnawing feeling within me that so many soldiers had perished for merchant's greed. I voiced these thoughts to Candor during one of our magical exercises in the woods beneath Katolis Castle. He was the one I turned to with these sorts of questions. Harrow wasn't available enough to be a confidant as Candor was to me.

We had been learning combative spells, ironically, which may have been what brought my thoughts on war to the front of my mind. I had just cut a large gash in a tree with fire and the ferocity of the attack and the damage it left in the tree left me feeling anxious, perhaps, on the spell's intended purpose. So, asked Candor.

"Is that tree supposed to be a human?" Candor frowned at my question. Not in disappointment, but he did looked mildly perturbed by my question. We had never talked about anything like this before. He stroked his hair before responding.

"Not always, I suppose," He tilted his head at me, "Why do you ask?" I had a feeling he already knew why.

"It's just…" I pointed to the scar in the tree that had a few embers still glowing.

"If it's meant to be a person, won't I kill them?" I was, at the time, frightened by the concept of killing someone for both the act and its ramifications.

"You're right, I suppose. You certainly could kill someone with this if you wanted to." He looked me in the eyes, serious as I had ever seen him.

"You could even kill me." I jumped back at this, my mind reeling to find a reason as to why I would ever kill Candor. He was someone my emotions saw as my father, even if my mind was not willing to accept it. He changed course as he saw the effect his words had on me.

"Not to say that you would want to, for course. I am your teacher after all." I nodded, repeating those words in my mind until I was certain in them again. My fears assuaged, Candor sat down in the meadow grass and patted the ground beside him.

"That's enough magic for now, Viren. Have a seat, I'd like to tell you a story." This was new. When we talked, it was often back and forth, thinking through a process or idea. Candor wasn't fond enough of the sound of his own voice to speak alone for the length of a story on most days.

"There was a bandit group years ago, when I was an apprentice myself. I trust you've heard something like this before?" I nodded. There had been a group of marauder's based just a day away from Katolis Castle who had pillaged most of the towns in their area and took ransoms on any unlucky enough to cross their paths. After months of failed attempts to capture them by local garrisons, the Crown Guard was released under the direction of Candor's master, the previous high mage of Katolis.

"I had been sent with my teacher to help capture these rogues as well as gain experience in the field, outside of Katolis Castle." The story went on as I remembered. The Crown Guard, with the help of the high mage, had tracked down the outlaws to an abandoned garrison, perhaps a millennia old.

"We had the outlaws surrounded, and at the time," He veered off the main story to direct it to me, "I shared the same doubts that you have now about these spells. But that night I learned." I would guess that he had never had much chance to discuss it with his mentor. I had read that the previous high mage of Katolis had been rather withdrawn, even with those close to him such as her own apprentice.

I remembered more of the story's details as Candor continued. The ruins had been stormed and bandit's captured saved for one. I realized then that I never had been told what had happened to the one not captured. That was where the story ended, in my knowledge.

"It happened when we were marching them to a nearby garrison to incarcerate them until they could be moved to a more secure prison." I leaned in as his voice became less audible under the wind.

"One of the bandits had concealed a knife in his sleeve. He cut himself looses and lunged for me." I suddenly noticed a small scar on his forehead.

"No one was close enough to stop him and he cut a gash just over my eyes." He traced the white mark over his eyes.

"I could barely see him but grabbed my nearest item and cast the spell before I realized what it was." He gestured towards the tree that had started our conversation.

"My assailant was smaller than most, so while most would've been tossed away…" He looked away from me before he finished.

"For this man, there was nothing left." My throat dried for a moment. Candor hadn't seemed able to kill someone to me. My feelings had wrapped around him subconsciously as if he were my grandfather rather than a dark mage. I had forgotten perhaps, that he even could.

"My master came over to me, fallen over on the ground and I asked her a question similar to your. I asked her if I was wrong to kill him." He shook his head.

"I still remember her words. She had said, 'Him or you, Candor. Him or you?'." I thanked him for the story and the lesson and we were silent for most of the way back to the castle until we were almost to the top and I turned to Candor. I had thought about his story for the whole walk back and had thought of a question.

"So, is it alright to kill?" He thought about it for a moment. It seemed he had pondered this question many times before."

"For me, it was in the moment, I was attacked, about to be stabbed and I reacted on instinct. Was I right? I'm not sure. I always go back to what my master told me. I have no other way."

I had hoped for a clear cut answer, something to put me at ease as he had done before, but this instead left me with more questions. What was justified for? Who should decide? Why did it so often come to one or the other? But all these questions led back to the same, single question, that rattled for days in my mind.

Them, or you?