Drag himself all the way to Lumiculus to run errands for Four, and this is how he’s repaid? An emergency meeting at three in the morning across the country? Unbelievable. First he gets demoted to bottom veil, and now these kids think they can boss him around like he’s just another decaying sack of meat? Nine, Eight, and he were easily the oldest members of the group besides Two himself, the only member that had joined before him. And yet, one by one, Two had brought in new candidates seemingly every year, young blood which superseded his position–his authority. It was infuriating.

He didn’t harbor any hatred towards Two, of course. Two was just doing his duty, and he’d been nothing but kind and respectable the many years Ten had worked with him. No, it was the new recruits that really irked him, dug under his skin for wires. They ought to respect him, trust his knowledge and wisdom, and have faith in his strength. But to them, he was nothing but dead weight, an epoch long past. Enough, he’d had enough. If nothing else, they would fear his name come morning.

Ten waded past the loosely hung wooden door of the ancient stone building, taking care not to bump into any of the loose masonry. The whole place was a dump, shattered furniture, torn portraits, and smashed tiles all that was left of the pitiful house–disrepair and ruin. They could’ve at least picked a comfier spot to have a meeting, not some backwater disposal district. It was the first time they were having a full Veil meeting in ages. Such an occasion called for some decorum, but of course not. The youngsters had no decorum. Quick and dirty, that’s all they had the patience for.

Ten kicked at the old fur carpet covering the center of the room, knocking a spray of dust into crisp early morning air. It was some sort of animal, one with a particularly lustrous coat, even despite the grime that had settled betwixt its fibers, but it was hard to make out exactly what it was. Thick brown coat, pronounced snout, long keratin horns on either side of its head. Minotaur? Rare to see around these parts, especially one with such a shiny coat. Whoever had owned this house must’ve been quite the exotic hunter.

Just as 4 had said, there was a secret hatch, one guarded by a rather strong array of runes. If he hadn’t been given the password beforehand, he actually might’ve been stuck out there all night trying to figure a way in. At the very least the security was good. Ten knelt among the bits of stone and ashy wood coating the floor, and inputted the inverse combination needed to deactivate the runes long enough for him to enter. It was a simple torch lined stone shaft, a frail looking wooden ladder leading down some 30 feet to the bottom of the chaste enclosure, which opened up into a spacious room with a small banquet table and 10 chairs in the center. 10? Odd.

“First to arrive…great. Ran all that way just so I could be early…kill that bastard when I get my hands on him,” Ten muttered to himself, lamenting his misfortune.

“Second, actually,” a gratingly passive voice from behind Ten said. Three patted Ten on the back as he passed around his right, pulling out a chair for himself just to the side of the head seat on the far side. Like usual, he made no sound as he moved, a faded spirit with a disorienting smear to his appearance. He calmly took his seat, sitting completely still, and looking over at Ten, his blank expression hidden behind his veil. At least you could see him when he wasn’t moving, hard to talk to a human specter. “And you’d do well to be more careful about what you say aloud. Four wouldn’t take kindly to those words. Also, you left the hatch open. You should be more careful”

Of the many Veils, Three was the last one Ten had been hoping to see. Something about that ever distant tone in his voice, that placid aura of sincerity he carried, irked Ten to no end. He was just like those automotons they used in Avar, all work, no emotion. Not to mention he was the youngest of the veils by many years. And yet, he was the one to be given the 3rd veil, the second in command position, before any of the senior members. For whatever reason, Two loved the kid, showed up a decade ago with him like he was a battered shelter rescue, trained him like the kid was to die tomorrow. And look at him now, a monster. He was a talented sword, sure, a fast learner with incredible reconnaissance, but something was not right with his head, which only infuriated Ten even more.

“Another word and I’ll take your head, too. I will not be treated like a child by my ‘comrades,’” Ten scolded, withholding his spiel until more veils arrived.

“Then stop acting like one,” Five said, stepping off the ladder, patting Ten on the back and slipping into his seat in the middle of the table.

“Please, you’ve no right to talk. Come waltzing back with no answers, no Kullisates, and a perfectly healthy Dasellium. I’m surprised Two let you keep your-”

Five leaned forward and snapped his fingers. Instantly, the world turned a bright red, listing around him wildly. Ten staggered against the edge of the table, clutching it desperately for support against the searing pain rending its way through his skull.

“What was that?”

“...nothing,” the pain doubled.

“Louder.”

“NOTHING, I SAID NOTHING!”

“Like I thought, all bark, no bite,” Five waved his hand, and in an instant, the world returned to normal, the pain slowly fading to a smart. “If you were really so upset about your rank, you’d actually challenge someone for their veil some time. Or are you just so certain that you’d lose? That you’re the weakest among us?”

…yes, he was. Even as much as he hated to admit it, as much as he wanted to explode, bury his blade into Five’s skull, he knew he would never win. It was agonizing, a constant reminder of his failures. If only he was just a little stronger, find a way to force himself back into their good graces. Maybe he couldn’t force them to respect him, but he could still earn their respect. He just had to do something worthwhile, something no one else could do.

“Calm, both of you. Unsanctioned in-fighting is strictly forbidden,” Three chastised.

“Oh, come on! Live a little! let the kids bicker! It's good for them!” Seven said, waltzing up to Ten and slinging his shoulder around his neck, Four walking in and plopping down in the seat across from Three without a word. “And I, for one, would love to see it,” Seven turned his head, whispering into Ten’s ear. “Come on, Ten. Entertain me.”

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“Off,” Ten said, his rage palpable.

“Oooooh, feisty! No need to be so tense. I’m only joking. I know you’d never be dumb enough to actually fight me,” Seven laughed, sitting down in his chair, kicking his feet up on the table, and leaning back with his arms crossed behind his head and his eyes closed.

“Take a couple of deep breaths, honey. He’s just trying to get under your skin. Don’t let him,” Nine said, wrapping her arms around him from behind.

“Yeah…you’re right. C’mon, let’s sit. Everyone’s almost here,” Ten replied, taking a couple deep breaths and settling into the seats closest to the ladder with Nine. How quickly the steam had been blown out of his sails. But at least Nine was there now. She always did have a way of soothing him, breaking right past his shell and into his core. It’s why he’d married her in the first place, a decision he’d never once regretted for even a single moment.

“Gross. Get a room you two,” Eight said, completely forgoing the ladder and simply jumping down the hole, landing light on his feet. “Who else are we missing, just Six and Two?” Eight walked forward towards the table, stopping at the edge after looking around for a moment. He raised his hand, visibly counting out the seats, “...extra chair?”

“We’ll be having a guest tonight. Two is getting them as we speak,” Three said.

“A guest?” 4 said, leaning forward and cradling her head in her hand, her elbow resting against the arm of her chair. “Since when have we had guests? Last I checked we had 9 members and an absent father. No more, no less.”

“And tonight, a guest,” Three answered, refusing to elaborate.

“Care to say who?” Eight asked, taking his seat across from Ten.

“No.”

“Figures.”

“Come on, Three. You gotta give us something? They a fighter? A diplomat? Don’t tell me it’s a new recruit. I’d hate to see anyone go,” Seven pouted, his interest seeping through his mask and spilling out onto the table.

“A guest. Do as you will, but don’t get yourself killed. That’s the only rule for this meeting. If you ask any more questions, I will not answer.”

Just then, Six slammed into the ground, leaping onto the table and crouching low. He was sniffing at the air for something with that bloodhound nose of his, “Blood, I smell it. Who has slain?” He growled, slowly glaring at each one of them.

Seven threw his arms up, his grin almost audible, “You got me! Here, I picked you up a treat on my way in.”

Seven pulled the fresh severed head of a young man through the air, blood spouting from the neck forming globules on the table. Six jumped to catch the head, landing in the middle of the table with his snack, his veil pressed up such that it revealed his half dozen rows of razor sharp teeth. He tore into the boy’s supple flesh, ripping out flesh by the mouthful, splattering the boy's brains against the table cloth, little tendons getting caught in between his teeth. Ten winced, doing his best to avoid looking at the gruesome sight in the middle of the table. A freak. That’s all Six was.

“Now what do we say?” Seven said, cocking his head forward.

Six stopped for a moment, his veil falling back over his face as he struggled to remember the words they’d taught him, “...thank…you….”

“Very good! Here, I’ve got more,” Seven clapped, pulling out several more severed limbs and tossing them towards Six, who excitedly yanked them from the air, settling into his seat with his array of different delights.

All of a sudden, the ladder creaked, and down descended Two, the Crimson number on his mask as sharp as ever. He stopped at the bottom of the ladder, taking them all in.

“Tell me, Seven. Whose corpse is that?” Two said, a slight edge to his tone. He almost sounded tired.

Seven shrugged, “Some guy I found loitering outside the city.”

Two sighed, “...we’ll talk about this later. And I told you not to make such a big mess Six. You need to eat slower.” Two walked over to his seat at the head of the table on the far side, quietly sitting down and looking them over, his arms crossed.

“Well, everyone’s here, Two, except that guest of yours. Where are they?” Five said.

“Yes, do tell. I’ve been dying to know, bleed them a little. Any guest worth your time has to be worth the blood, right?” Seven said, hands pressed into the edge of the table.

“Am I?”

Behind Seven, the still air whipping into a frenzied hurricane, a man appeared, one Ten didn’t immediately recognize. He had an impressive build, simple clothes, well trimmed black hair, a sharp, chiseled face, and eyes of the deepest crimson, like two depthless pools of blood. It was practically the same hue as Two’s mask. Huh.

The man stood there, gazing intently over them, a slight prick of his presence extending across the room, digging into each of theirs. Whoever he was, he was no weakling. As the man’s presence tore through his body, it felt like Ten was being burned alive, a wall of boiling water crushing him from every side. Even disregarding the overwhelming terror, he had no means of defense against the probing. He was outmatched, completely and utterly. Next to him, the others seemed to have similar reactions, shaking in their seats, and doing their best to peacefully submit to him. Even Seven almost looked intimidated, his whole body twisted around to look at the man behind him, a slight quiver traveling from head to toe.

The only ones that seemed to keep their senses were the upper numbers, Five, Four, Three, and Two. Of them, Two and Three gazed at the man passively, calm and relaxed, while Four and Five hovered their hands over their weapons, bodies tense.

“...an impressive bunch you’ve gathered. You always did have a good eye for talent,” the man said, withdrawing his presence back into his body. He walked over to the other head seat, the one across from Two, and sat, folding his hands on the table in front of himself and waiting.

“Thank you. And thank you again for being here. I’m aware this was rather short notice, but I’ve some details I think you’ll find interesting,” Two said, not a worry in the world.

“Of course, but I am of limited time. You’ll have to make it quick.”

“Awfully bold of you to go snooping where you don’t belong. Who the hell do you think you are?” Four said, standing and drawing her legendary weapon, a beautiful, crystalline blade, which sparkled with an intense luminosity.

She had a strange intensity to her voice, a slight shake that he’d never heard before. Typically she was all for loafing around, rather the apathetic type. The only time she really got into anything was when she was actively engaged in combat, but it seemed this man was the one exception, a threat big enough to wake her completely.

“I think it apt given the circumstances. I’m sacrificing quite a lot to aid in your endeavor, and this is the first time I’m meeting most of you. If I’m to put my men's lives behind you, I need to know you’re worth your name,” the man said, raising his eyebrows at Four’s outburst.

“Wait, then-” Eight started.

“Our guest today is none other than the king of the western kingdom Lagasia, the Bloody, and with his arrival, all are present. We may begin today's procession,” Three said.