Chapter 11: A Vow for the Future

(Marcus's PoV)

Marcus awoke to the faint glow of morning light creeping into the room. The warmth of the sun brushed against his face, and for a moment, he forgot where he was. The ache in his back from sleeping in an awkward position brought him back to reality. His eyes fluttered open, and he found himself in the chair beside his sister's bed.

He glanced down at her, still sound asleep, her small hand gripping his tightly as if she were afraid he would disappear in the night. Her chest rose and fell softly, her face peaceful—so unlike the grief-stricken expression she had worn the night before. Marcus's heart clenched as the memory of her tears flooded back, and with it, the realization of just how much she needed him.

He let out a quiet sigh, feeling the weight of responsibility settle even heavier on his shoulders. But this time, it wasn't burdensome. Looking at her now, his resolve hardened.

"I'll create a better future for you," he whispered softly, his voice barely audible as if he was making the promise to himself as much as to her. He couldn't let her live in this broken world, filled with danger, fear, and hunger. She deserved more. And if it was within his power, he would make sure she had it.

Carefully, he extricated his hand from hers, moving as slowly as possible so as not to wake her. But before he left, Marcus leaned down, brushing a gentle hand over her cheek, caressing her delicate face. His heart swelled with a fierce protectiveness as he bent down and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. 

"Sleep well, Ellie," he whispered. "I'll make things right. For you. For us."

---

As he left her room, the morning air in the palace halls was cold and crisp, mirroring the sharpness of his thoughts. The world outside was harsh—unforgiving winters, dwindling food supplies, and the looming threat of another monster attack. He had to act swiftly, but smartly. The northern regions had long been plagued by food shortages during the colder months, and with winter fast approaching, the situation was critical. The grand duchy couldn't afford to falter now.

When Marcus entered his office, the morning light streamed through the large windows, casting long shadows across the desk piled with reports and ledgers. He settled into the high-backed chair, his mind racing. The exhaustion from the battle was still there, weighing on him, but he pushed it aside. He had no time to rest. His people were depending on him—**Ellie** was depending on him.

He picked up a report detailing the current state of the food supplies. It was as grim as the quartermaster had said the previous night. Rations would only last for another week, maybe two if they were lucky. Hunting and foraging had yielded little, and the blizzards would soon make it impossible to bring in supplies from the capital or other regions.

A plan started forming in his mind, pieces clicking into place as he remembered something from his previous life—**greenhouses**. In his old world, farmers had used greenhouses to grow food even in harsh climates, and though the technology didn't exist in this world, the concept could still work. They had mages, after all—elementalists who could manipulate earth, fire, and water. If he could combine their abilities, they could create a controlled environment to grow crops year-round, even in the brutal northern winters.

Marcus leaned over the desk, his mind racing as he sketched out the idea, using his past knowledge and the new understanding of this world's magic. Elementalists could control the temperature, keeping the crops warm, while water adepts ensured irrigation. Earth elementalists could create fertile soil, and with this method, the northern territories could potentially grow enough food to sustain themselves even through the worst winters.

It wasn't a perfect solution, and it would require a coordinated effort from the mages in the duchy, but it was a start. And right now, a start was all they needed.

He began drafting a detailed proposal, outlining the necessary steps to build the greenhouses, the mages required, and the timeline. As his pen moved across the paper, he felt a sense of determination take hold of him. This was something he could do—something that would truly help his people.

As he worked, the memories of his past life and this one intertwined more seamlessly than ever before. In moments like these, he felt both versions of himself merging, as if the Marcus from his old world and the Marcus Aurelius of Solstern had always been one and the same. The line between the two blurred, but the goal remained clear: he needed to protect his sister, his people, and his duchy.

By the time he finished the plan, the morning light had fully bathed the room, and he felt a renewed sense of purpose. This was more than just surviving—it was about building a future. For Ellie, for the people who had fought alongside him, for the duchy his parents had left behind.

Marcus leaned back in his chair, staring at the proposal in front of him. It wasn't going to be easy, but nothing worth doing ever was.

"This is only the beginning," he muttered to himself, his eyes narrowing with determination. "We'll survive this winter. And then, we'll thrive."

With a final glance at the sketches and notes before him, Marcus stood up. The weight of leadership felt lighter, knowing he had a path forward, a way to provide for his people. He wasn't alone in this—he had his memories, his knowledge from a life long gone, and now he had his sister to fight for.

The future was uncertain, but Marcus Aurelius would face it head-on. He wasn't the same person he had been before—neither Marcus nor his past self. He was someone new, someone forged by both lives, and he would shape his destiny with his own hands.