Zach smiled as he piled the food on his tray. He smiled as he greeted the newest general track students, including the younger representatives, and dodged people in the somewhat crowded cafeteria. He smiled as he sat with the group he considered ‘his,’ the students most likely to make up his party based on his own research and general tastes.

He even smiled as he helped Gruff untie a spellthread that had gotten caught in his hair.

“Why is it that you look even creepier than usual today?” Jeremy grumbled.

“Insult me one more time and find out,” Zach bit back.

With a shudder Jeremy turned to the others in the group and began discussing classes rather than Zach’s sour mood.

Zach was fairly certain his party were the only ones who noticed. Not even the instructors had mentioned how fake his good cheer was, and they were trained to pick up on potential outbursts. While magic wasn’t specifically tied to mood, most of the professors were highly aware they were giving lethal weapons to teenagers who barely had a reign on their hormones. That was why there were so many representatives for the students: a temper tantrum from a partially trained mage could be deadly.

His phone chimed, and Zach ate while looking through the messages from his parents and his little sister. And then scrolling through recent literature on party bonds. And then his notes on his own party.

Zach’s goal was the throne. He believed his father was much stronger than his uncle, and disagreed with many of the policies his uncle was enforcing. To make the kingdom Dal stronger and give them a chance at standing up to other countries, Zach needed to survive and prove himself stronger than his cousins. Only then might his uncle consider him a contender.

Part of that strength would be Zach’s party. He planned to have a full party, with one mage of each specialty included. Jeremy Torvik was his enhancer. Zach was certain. Jeremy should have been in support track from the start, but Zach knew a few enhancers from his father’s knights who would be willing to train him. That was one thing that needed to end: this insistence on family history determining track. The son of a blacksmith wasn’t always a blacksmith, and the same applied to mage training as well.

Ari Gruff was his sword. The man was completely capable of any attack spell after only seeing it a few times - sometimes only once. But when it came to weaving bandages, creating spell ink, and production magic? Well, there were still spellthreads wriggling in his hair. The Gruffs weren’t well off, though, and he couldn’t afford to only learn magic designed for battle. He needed to learn what would benefit his family.

Rubbish. Gruff was his sword and Zach wasn’t going to stand for anything else.

“KeLeigwark?” Gruff asked, quiet as usual with his eyes on his plate.

“Hmm?” Zach shoved some food in his mouth - tasteless and uninteresting - so he wouldn’t need to speak any more than necessary.

“You sure you’re good?”

“I’m fine,” Zach nodded after he swallowed. “Don’t worry about it.”

Gruff nodded and pulled out his own phone to do some reading. That was the part Zach really liked about the man: he never pushed for more answer than what Zach was willing to give.

If needed, Gruff might be the one to help research about Zach’s missing heart. He didn’t want to involve any members of his party with that unless necessary. Stating what he’d done was as good as declaring his aims for the throne and he wanted a bond with them first. Both for protection against betrayal and to protect them against interrogations.

If he didn’t find it before the end of the semester, he’d pull in a party member to help.