Even though it was the middle of the night, Marcus lay on the bed as awake as he was during the day.
Following the King's decision to give Marcus a team with which to hunt the giants that threatened the entirety of his army, he had instructed Leo to take Marcus to a nearby village. Once there, he had been given a free room at an inn, which had been used to house refugees who fled Merthin since the conflict against Yar-Anar's Elementals began.
In spite of his best efforts, he could not manage to find the peace in his mind enough to find the comfort of sleep. Too much weighed on his conscience for that to happen.
In a sense, the fate of the entire war was being put directly into the palms of his hands. If he was the one responsible for defeating the enemy's greatest threat, then the war would be decided by the outcome of his battles.
'But, why should I care?' he thought.
