Zero arrived at the Warehouse of Silent Shadows even earlier this time, a good two hours before midnight. The terror of a second meeting had gnawed at him relentlessly. Anya, his first disciple, was an unknown quantity – silent, intense, possibly a deadly assassin. But she had been… receptive. This new person, whoever they were, could be entirely different. What if they were boisterous? Skeptical? What if they asked difficult questions?
He'd made a few "improvements" to the Sanctum. The crate-throne now boasted a second, even more rotten crate beside it, forming a crude armrest. The pathetic lantern was augmented by two additional sputtering candle stubs, which cast more shadows than light and made the corner smell faintly of cheap tallow. He'd also propped his newly penned 'Tenets of the Crimson Shadow Path' on the makeshift lectern, though the thought of actually reading from it aloud made his palms sweat.
He paced his tiny cleared patch, his cloak catching on a protruding nail. He muttered his lines, trying for Anya's "Master" – that low, inflectionless tone. It still sounded like a frog with a grievance. His gaze kept darting to the massive, dark entrance of the warehouse. Any sound, any flicker of movement, sent his heart into overdrive. This was unsustainable. Sooner or later, his luck would run out. Sooner or later, someone would see him for the fraud he was.
***
Barric arrived with the punctuality of a seasoned soldier reporting for duty. He approached the Southern Docks with caution, navigating the labyrinthine alleys with an ingrained awareness of his surroundings. He'd scouted the warehouse – third from the Salt Pier, broken raven weather vane – from a distance the previous day. It was dilapidated, isolated. A good spot for a clandestine meeting, or an ambush. He was prepared for either.
He didn't attempt stealth in the same way Anya had. His movements were quiet but purposeful, the confident tread of a man who knew how to handle himself. He carried his old Watch sword sheathed at his hip and his steel buckler strapped to his left arm, its surface reflecting dully in the sparse moonlight that penetrated the docklands' gloom.
He found the same small, collapsed personnel entrance Anya had used. He paused, listening. The vast warehouse breathed with the sounds of decay – creaking timbers, the scuttle of unseen creatures, the distant sigh of the wind through broken panes. And, from one corner, the faintest flicker of unsteady light.
He moved towards it, his eyes adjusting, his senses alert. He saw the setup: a small, cleared area, a few crates, flickering candles. And the figure. Cloaked, hooded, seated. Smaller than he'd expected a 'Master' to be, but the stillness, the deliberate occupation of even this squalid space, had a certain weight. This wasn't the ostentation of a corrupt captain or a preening noble. This was… something else. Practical. Unadorned. Perhaps the sign of a leader who valued substance over show.
Barric stopped a respectful distance away, his stance solid, observant. He took in the figure on the crate, the faint smell of tallow and dust. This 'Master' didn't radiate overwhelming power in the way mages in stories did, but there was an undeniable presence in the shadows.
***
Zero saw the new arrival emerge from the darkness. Taller than Anya, broader. The faint glint of metal from a sword and shield. A soldier, then. Or a guard. This was different. This one looked like he could snap Zero in two without breaking a sweat. Zero's meticulously rehearsed lines about the mutable nature of shadows deserted him entirely.
He gripped the edges of his crate-throne, trying to appear anchored, profound.
"You… have come," Zero managed, his voice thinner than he'd hoped.
Barric nodded, his gaze steady. "I received the summons, Master." His voice was a low rumble, accustomed to giving and taking orders.
Master again! It's working! He believes it! Zero felt a hysterical giggle bubble up but ruthlessly suppressed it. He had to maintain the facade.
"The Path… is not for the faint of heart," Zero improvised, remembering one of his newly penned tenets. "It demands… conviction."
"I have conviction," Barric stated simply. There was no boast in his tone, just a quiet certainty. "I seek a Path with purpose. With loyalty. The notice spoke of truth in shadow. I have seen too many truths twisted in the light."
Zero nodded slowly, as if considering the weight of these words. He's practically writing my script for me! "Indeed. The light… it can be… deceptively bright. Blinding, even." He paused for what he hoped was a meaningful silence. Barric waited patiently, his posture that of a soldier at attention.
"You are a man of action, I perceive," Zero continued, emboldened slightly by Barric's respectful demeanor. "A warrior?"
"I was a guardsman," Barric said. "For ten years. I understand duty. I understand the chain of command."
Chain of command? Oh no. Zero hadn't thought about a command structure. He was the only one in it, besides Anya! "The… Crimson Path… has its own structure," he said vaguely. "The Path itself is the highest authority. The Master… merely interprets its whispers."
Barric nodded again. An unconventional structure, perhaps, but one that might prevent the kind of corruption he'd seen in the Watch. "What are the core tenets of this Path, Master? What is our objective?"
Zero's mind raced. Tenets! Objective! He'd written them down! He could almost see the words on the parchment on his lectern. He cleared his throat. "The tenets are… many and profound. They will be revealed… as you walk the Path. As for the objective…" He spread his hands in a gesture he hoped looked all-encompassing. "To restore… Balance. Where shadows have been unjustly dispelled… or where light casts too false a gleam. To act where others… falter." It was pure, unadulterated nonsense, but he delivered it with as much gravitas as he could muster.
Barric considered this. Restore balance. Act where others falter. It sounded… honorable. A just cause, fought from the shadows. It appealed to his ingrained sense of duty, the duty that had been betrayed by his former commanders.
"I am prepared to walk this Path, Master," Barric said, his voice firm. "If it will have me."
Zero felt another surge of terrified triumph. Two! Two disciples! "The Path… accepts those with true conviction," he said. "You, too, shall bear the Mark."
He rose, a little more steadily this time, and fumbled for his charcoal stick. He approached Barric, who stood unflinchingly. Zero noted the man's height, the solid set of his shoulders. He was definitely more intimidating up close than Anya.
"Your hand, aspirant."
Barric extended his right hand, palm up. It was a calloused, capable hand, the hand of a fighting man. Zero sketched the lopsided Bleeding Eye onto the back of it. The charcoal smudged even more on Barric's weathered skin.
Barric looked at the crude mark. It was no legionary standard, no guild sigil. A field sign, perhaps. Simple. Unmistakable to those who knew what to look for. He clenched his fist. "It is done."
"It is," Zero confirmed, stepping back hastily. "Your first task, Acolyte… observe the city's defenses. Its walls, its gates, the Watch patrols. Note where strength is proclaimed, but weakness… festers. Where loyalty is thin, and integrity has crumbled. Understand the city's vulnerabilities. The Path must know where the foundations are… rotten." He'd pulled that one out of thin air, thinking of Barric's guard background.
Barric's eyes, which had been assessing, now held a spark of understanding. An assessment of vulnerabilities. Reconnaissance. This was a task he understood. This was soldier's work, applied to a new, more vital cause. "I will not fail, Master," he said, the words a quiet oath.
"Then go," Zero said, sinking back onto his crate, trying for a dismissive wave. "The shadows have… much to show you."
Barric gave a crisp, soldierly nod. He turned and walked out of the warehouse, his steps sure and steady, leaving Zero alone once more in the flickering candlelight, the weight of two devoted, dangerous followers pressing down on him. He wasn't sure if he was a genius or the luckiest, most doomed fool in all of Veridia. Probably both.