It took us a solid fifteen minutes of walking through labyrinthine corridors to finally arrive before Callis’s office.
As we walked, I closely observed this suspended castle.
The architecture was rather grim, almost Gothic, but the place was impeccably maintained.
The refined and luxurious interior decor contrasted sharply with the barbaric and violent image one would usually associate with such a shadow organization.
Arriving before a heavy, solid wood door with the number ten proudly inscribed upon it, Mélo knocked three sharp times and announced our arrival.
Upon hearing the muffled invitation to enter, she stepped aside to let us pass, but at the last second, she firmly gripped Lucas by the arm.
I understood the message and entered the room alone.
Déva Callis was seated before me, comfortably installed behind his large desk which, contrary to all expectations, was rather basic.
Upon it lay a few antique trinkets and family portraits—nothing particularly concrete or extravagant.
His piercing gaze immediately fell upon me, cutting right through me, and with a wave of his hand, he invited me to sit on the chair opposite him.
“Drey…
It has been quite some time, has it not?
Good.
First of all, I wish to reiterate my congratulations.
You are now officially a part of the Arya of Eresboros.
Getting to this point was certainly no easy feat, I am well aware, but now you are here.”
I sensed a massive undertone of irony and condescension in his speech, and it annoyed me to no end.
But at this precise moment, I knew I didn’t have the luxury of being difficult or showing my discontent, especially since Déva undoubtedly did not trust me at all after our recent suspicious affair at the church.
He was looking for the slightest crack.
“Thank you, Lord Callis…
I assume that is what I must call you from now on,” I replied, keeping my tone neutral.
“And, forgive me for being so blunt and direct, but now that we are here, what must I do?
Will I have specific missions to carry out starting today, or perhaps something else I must manage for the organization?”
He offered an enigmatic smile that boded nothing good, then slid a blank piece of parchment toward me.
“Tell me, Drey, do you still have living parents or family somewhere?
And tell me as well: is Drey your one and only name?
malicious or hidden intentions toward our great family?”
His gaze locked onto me at that moment was exactly that of a starved predator cruelly playing with its prey before finishing it off.
With a sharp flick, he tossed a quill pen onto the desk and ordered me to write my answers directly onto the paper.
But before I could write a single word, he suddenly grabbed the inkpot.
Before my eyes, he squeezed his own fist tightly over the inkwell.
His muscles tensed, and a few drops of his own crimson blood fell inside, mixing with the black liquid.
He stared at me intensely and told me to write.
As I complied, quill in hand, I wondered with dread what his true intentions were behind this macabre ritual.
Once I finished writing my answers, he immediately snatched the sheet from my hands.
He then began to recite incomprehensible words in the Carnic tongue.
Suddenly, the paper floated into the air on its own and erupted violently into flames, forming a small, crackling ball of black fire that Déva immediately squeezed in the palm of his hand, smothering the flames.
When he opened his fingers once more, a mystical design was now branded in red-hot ink upon his skin.
“Very well, Drey.
Now, I shall impose the covenant upon you.
If even one of these answers you have just written is false, you will instantly die in excruciating agony.
If they are strictly true, then you may truly be considered an integral part of our organization.”
The bastard hadn’t told me everything.
The “covenant” was a sort of absolute and inviolable magical pact that bound one being to another.
Originally, this spell was primarily used to tame and subdue the most ferocious wild beasts.
However, over the years and through wars, the royal army had seized this psychological mechanic to effectively interrogate the most hardened criminals.
Under the power of the covenant, lying was out of the question.
And of course, if the person being interrogated was deemed truthful by the spell’s magic, they automatically became the submissive servant of the one who imposed the mark, making it impossible for that person to lie to or betray their holder in the future.
I knew damn well that Déva did not have a shred of trust in me, and if I were to refuse this test now, it would be the absolute end of my life.
I had no way out, so I had to comply without flinching.
He stepped forward and brutally branded me with the magical mark…
and I did not die.
My truths were anchored.
Seeing that I had survived, he appeared visibly annoyed and disappointed not to watch me burn, but he quickly recovered and told me in a cold voice that everything was settled.
Unsurprisingly, the exact same blood covenant was imposed on him, and upon seeing him survive, Déva openly rejoiced, a satisfied laugh on his lips.
“Splendid, my dear boys!
Now, you are officially full-fledged members of Eresboros.
You are personally assigned to me, which means your sole ‘Lord’ is myself, and no one else.
Your direct commander is my assistant, Mélo.
She, and she alone, will issue your daily mission orders, and of course, you will obey her without question, down to the letter.
As for the rest, for now you are merely simple apprentices at the bottom of the ladder, but I have immense faith in your hidden potential.
I know you will do honor to our Arya in the future.
So, good luck to you both.
Mélo, I leave them in your hands.”
“Very well, my Lord,” she replied, bowing low.
We finally emerged from that suffocating office.
Once in the hallway, Mélo stared at us intensely for a long moment of silence, then told us in a sharp tone to report to reception immediately.
There, the receptionist would show us the way to the barracks reserved for new recruits, and she added that tomorrow morning, we would already receive our very first official mission order.
She insisted heavily, telling us to prepare ourselves mentally and physically, for at the slightest failure on our part, we would suffer the most terrible consequences.
Returning to the reception desk, the receptionist stared at us without a word, simply indicating with a cold gesture that we had to follow the long, dark corridor to the left to reach the recruits’ quarters.
Following this austere hallway, total silence reigned between Lucas and me, each of us lost in our own thoughts.
I realized with a grim ache that the further we advanced in this direction, the darker the passage became, the light of the torches growing increasingly sparse.
Arriving at the very end of the sinister corridor, we suddenly emerged into a massive common room, already filled with a multitude of other people waiting in the shadows.
No sooner had we crossed the threshold than thick, reinforced iron bars slammed shut behind us with a deafening metallic crash, trapping us inside.
There, in this grim, confined space filled with dark-eyed strangers, there was absolutely no light.
It was a massive isolation hall with solid stone walls that blocked any attempt at escape, and the dirt floor was repulsively filthy.
Each of the prisoners huddled in their own corner, remaining desperately silent and wary.
Seeing the situation, Lucas and I quietly went to sit in a corner of the room to observe.
The stone floor was icy to the touch, and we had absolutely no idea how things would turn out for us in the next chapter of this perilous adventure.
We were now trapped in the jaws of the organization.