67: The Brotherhood Of Mercenaries (Patreon)

“How much?” Vir asked, eyeing a rudimentary map of the city inked on parchment. He was back at the same paunchy merchant whom he’d sold his daggers to, but this time, he looked to buy.

“For you? I will sell it cheap. Five silvers.”

“You want five silvers for this cheap thing!?” Vir couldn’t possibly afford that. Maybe if he sold Mina’s elaborate outfit, but if that really was a family heirloom, he doubted he’d sell it off easily, at least here in Daha. Commoners selling off royal garb raised questions and attention.

The robe was quite useless. Neither could he sell it, nor could he wear it.

“Friend, maps are a rare luxury. I will have no issues selling this for six silvers. I am doing you a favor.”

“Uh, huh. Well, thanks anyway,” Vir said, not bothering to negotiate with the man. Any money spent on a map was a waste, since he could just fashion one himself for free. And by making his own map, he’d learn the geography of the city far more intimately than by just buying one.

Vir had risen early the morning after his encounter with the princess, eager to sign on with the Mercenaries’ Brotherhood; the pawn shop was just an afterthought.

He’d felt bad about waking Neel at such an early hour, so the bandy slept happily at the inn.

Exiting the store, he found a market square that was a far cry from the previous evening. Vestiges of yesterday’s procession remained—flowers of all colors lay on the road, trampled and shredded—but the square was nearly empty.

The Mercenaries Brotherhood building stood out from all the others. While about the same height at four stories tall, its all-stone architecture differed from the arch-and-dome theme of the rest of the city, with an engraved symbol that dominated its front face. A triangular metal plaque adorned with a black ghost.

Its enormous wooden double doors soared to almost two stories in height, thick and rugged like the rest of the structure. If Daha ever came under siege, Vir would want to seek refuge in this building. Carvings decorated its stone—portraits and sculptures of warriors of all sorts, all holding different weapons. And unlike the other building that all butted up against each other, the Brotherhood stood apart, extending deep into the distance.

Vir entered expecting to find a vast open space filled to the brim with mercenaries ogling a contract board. After all, how could this possibly be a proper guild without a job board, some adventurers, and some tussles over rambunctious upstarts?

Instead, he found a dim empty hall. Wide and tall, to be sure, but dark, and nearly devoid of life. Rather than a business establishment, he felt like he’d walked into a temple whose congregation had long ago finished—the workers having already tidied up.

“Yes?” said an ominous voice nearby. Vir startled and looked around with Prana Vision. The ability was always on these days—a habitual instinct rather than something that needed to be activated. It showed a strong twin affinity prana signature just a handful of paces away. Seated behind a black veil, only their legs and black polished loafers were visible.

“I want to register as a new mercenary,” Vir said, frowning at the man behind the veil.

It’s like a cult, he thought, recalling the Children of Ash.

“Follow me,” the man said, and when he finally stepped from behind his booth, Vir was once more thrown for a loop.

Not only had the man been seated behind a veil, he wore one on his face!

Definitely like a cult. Vir was starting to reconsider this decision.

He followed the receptionist through the dark hall and into a large courtyard, occasionally passing other mercenaries, whose footsteps echoed in the silence.

A leafless petrified tree occupied the center of the space, surrounded by sand. Proceeding down another hall, they finally came to a tall stone room containing several wooden booths all arrayed side by side.

“Wait here for your turn,” the receptionist said before departing, leaving Vir alone, facing the doors of the booths that had names painted upon them. Sonam, Alt Ashani, Daha, Avi, Raaka, Kartara, and Balindam.

Vir recognized two—Daha and Balindam. The capitals of Hiranya and the Pagan Order, respectively. Which meant the other booths were named after the capitals of countries as well.

He didn’t wait long. “Balindam. Enter,” a feminine voice said.

Vir made his way into the booth, which was lit by only a single Magic Candle, and shut the door behind him. The person in the booth wore a similar veil, her hands steepled upon a counter.

He took two steps over to the empty chair and froze.

The woman he was looking at had golden prana flowing through her entire body… and nearly nothing else. Apex Lightning affinity. Vir was likely dealing with a Mejai of Ash or possibly even a Mejai of Realms.

He made a note to himself not to anger this woman.

“I shall be your Executor this session. Identification?” she asked in a professional, even tone, extending her hand.

“I have none,” Vir replied. “I’m here to become a mercenary.”

“Reason?”

“Just moved into the city. Looking to earn a living, and I’m pretty confident about my combat skills. I, uh, also need some contacts. Connections to Sawai, information about royalty, that kind of thing. Heard the Brotherhood can help there?”

“The Brotherhood’s reach is both deep and wide. Depending on your position within our organization, such things might be arranged.”

It was donning upon Vir that the Brotherhood was more of a shadow organization. A group that likely took on less than reputable tasks, rather than the usual contracts.

“Balar Rank?” the Executor asked.

“I haven’t been tested, but my instructor believes I’m about Balar 30.”

“Oho?” she said, showing interest for the first time during their conversation, “We are willing to grant capable members admission, but as you are coming to us unrecommended, we must have you pass a trial first.”

“You want me to fight someone?”

The Executor shook her head. “The combat exam will follow after you pass this trial. Only then will you receive your official Balar Scale Rank.”

Vir perked up at the mention of ranking. He’d been itching to see how much he’d progressed, and to see how he stood compared to others on a standardized scale.

She produced a piece of paper—real paper, not parchment—and slid it out to him. “Literate?”

Vid nodded.

“Good. Then fill out your name, age, reason for application, and qualifications. For record keeping. I trust you can pay the fee?”

“Fee? What fee?”

“Five silvers to join the Brotherhood.”

Vir blanched. “I don’t have that…”

“Then please return when you are able to pay,” she said calmly, taking back the paper.

“W-wait,” Vir said, producing all the coin he had left, including Rudvik's twenty coppers. “Can you take this as a deposit? Until I have enough to pay?”

He really didn’t want to show the robe to anyone, so that option was out.

The Executor fell silent for a moment. “Very well,” she said. Her lack of hesitation made Vir wonder whether they often ran into these situations.

Vir took a quill and jotted down his information. He refrained from mentioning Dance of the Shadow Demon, instead calling it Shadow Blend, but everything else was accurate.

The real dilemma was his name. He’d been going by Neel in Daha, but what if he had to abandon that identity in the future? If he registered as Neel, then even if he left Hiranya for some other country, he might be followed and tracked. The Brotherhood was an international organization, after all.

He hand hovered over the paper.

Vir’s real name made sense in that case. That way, he could take on and abandon identities, keeping his real name hidden. But then again, using his real name came at a cost if it were ever leaked.

“Is there a problem?” asked the Executor.

“Does—Will the Brotherhood keep this information secret if I need them to?”

The woman stared at him, and even through her veil, he could tell her tone had changed. “As I said, secrets are the lifeblood of the Brotherhood. There is no priority higher to us than keeping the confidence of our members. We have fought empires before to protect such secrets. We will do so again if need be.”

It was the most the lady had ever spoken, and Vir was thankful for it. Her words definitely made the decision easier.

“You’ll keep it a secret from everyone? Anyone? No matter how important they may be?”

“Yes.”

Vir, he wrote. The other reason for it was Maiya. If she came looking for him, he had to use a name she’d recognize.

“This appears in order,” the Executor said. “Now, for your task. Bring me the eyes of that which sees without eyes.”

“A riddle!?” Vir asked. “Isn’t the brotherhood a mercenary organization? What need do you have of people who can solve riddles?”

“Brotherhood mercenaries take on a variety of tasks that require both intellect, problem solving ability, cunning, and combat prowess. Each of our High Shadows possesses these skills in spades.”

“There’s no one who’s just strong?”

“Those types tend not to live long in this line of work,” she responded, furling the paper. “Now, is there anything else?”

“No, but if I do this, I’m in?”

“That will depend on your performance and your ability to pay the fee. Do note that there is a time element to this test. You should complete your task within three days. Here,” she said, giving him a rolled piece of paper, “take this. It will grant you temporary admission to and from the city of Daha, should you need to leave.”

“Well, thanks,” Vir said, getting up.

“Do not seek outside help. The Brotherhood has eyes in every corner of this city. Should you be caught, you will fail, and if you cheat, the Brotherhood will forever be off limits to you. In all countries.”

“Right. Got it.”

Vir found his own way out, back to the entrance, where the receptionist hailed him.

“I take it all went well?” he said, pointing at Vir’s writ of entry. “In that case, allow me to explain some benefits of joining our organization.”

Isn’t the order a little off here? Vir thought. Usually they’d try to give you reasons to join first, but Vir wanted to know what being part of the Brotherhood got him, so he nodded for the receptionist to continue.

The veiled man launched into a speech that sounded like he’d given it a thousand times.

“Brotherhood Sanctums operate not only as contract issuers, but also provide armorer and lodging services to its members. Shadows, High Shadows, and Executors receive privileges such as superior lodging, discounted rates, and access to higher tier armor, weapons, and magic orbs. The Brotherhood offers rare and coveted equipment. Many covet this benefit.”

“If… if I wanted to set up a meeting with a Sawai, what rank would I have to be for that?” Vir asked.

“It depends on which of the Sawai aristocracy, and your standing within our organization, but Shadow is the minimum. If you pass your trial, you will join as an Initiate. From there, you would have to rise to Acolyte, and then to Shadow.”

“I see…” Vir said, disappointed. Unless he made an incredible impression on the Brotherhood, it sounded like the road would be longer than he’d hoped for.

Even so, this was still the best plan he had. He’d continue searching for others, but at least he now had a fallback.

Vir exited the Brotherhood Sanctum to find a market square buzzing with activity.

With a quick glance up at the Vimana that shrouded the city in shadows, he pulled out a piece of parchment and charcoal from his bag and left.

Time to chart out this city.