The wait for the Signalings to be ready for the three was awkward after this. In silence they stood until the inevitable "Next!" they heard. Dal was the first to go up to the registry, with Regg following.

"Aye," the Signaling said. "Please state your name for the record."

"Regg."

The Signaling mumbled, scribbling down the name on a piece of parchment.

"And where do you come from, Master Regg?"

"Hemmit, sir."

"Hm. Are you traveling with that other boy?"

"Yes. He's my, erm...my brother."

"Really? The two of you don't really look alike." The Signaling chuckled.

"I would assume then that you're applying for Peonage."

"Peonage?"

"You'll take a loan, per say, from the guild, to pay for your training, but won't be able to enter the program until it's paid off. You do that by becoming a Peon, a mercenary of sorts for the guild."

"Well, I guess that's what I'm doing..."

Really? Regg had hoped that he would be able to enter the Guild immediately, and have access to what he needed. But this would put a wrench in that plan, for some time at least. Well, no matter. What did he have to lose?

"How much is the loan?" He asked.

"thirty thousand Rows. Most pay it off in two years, max. Some go shorter, some longer. Some don't make it through at all." The Signaling grimaced.

"Anyways," he said, "We'll need a bit more information. Age, relatives, that type of thing."

The whole process took about ten minutes, and Regg was lead into one of the back rooms. Dal sat here, along with two others; a woman, in about her late twenties, and a girl, likely in her late teens like the other recruits Regg had seen (and, regretfully, one who he met), but who could pass for someone who was older. Her skin was olive, her hair black, and she looked relatively uninterested in her surroundings. The older woman, however, was much more attentive.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

"We have another member for your team, Mrs. Sonta," The Signaling said.

"So we do, so we do. What's your name, son?"

"Regg, ma'am."

"Dal, this is your brother, right?"

"Yes, ma'am," Dal said.

"I'm surprised how quickly it took to fill all of the slots here," Sonta commented. "All but one, of course."

"It tends to go that way," The Signaling told her. "So far, we've registered about five Peon Bands today alone. Of course," he added, "We can never tell which ones will come back in two years' time."

Another Signalling entered the chamber. "Aza," He said to the first Signalling. "We have one other applicant for this band." This Signalling had a much different accent than most of the people Regg had spoken to, much thicker with rolled r's.

"Bring him in, Mr. Aranare."

Aranare led the boy in, and Regg could tell who it was immediately - Folco.

"Aza..." He trailed off. "It's, um -"

"Numel," Aranare said. "Numel for hello."

Regg sighed. For two years, he would have to go about the world with this fool?

"Anyways," the first Signalling said, "Your band is officially formed, Mrs. Sonta. Just be the future of your souls!"