Meera stared at the masked man. All of a sudden, he didn't feel like the helpless boy that she thought he was. If he used to be a part of the Shadow Vanguard, then is he the contact Narikas was talking about?

"Take off your mask," the man said. He didn't seem sleepy anymore. His eyes were attentive and sharp, and they had changed from green to golden.

Dirik did so without any hesitation. She had seen his face, but she was again taken aback by his disfigured face. There was a part of his right cheek that looked like it had been burned. She hadn't noticed that last time. Whoever did this to him was a cruel bastard.

She quickly used Identify before Dirik covered himself.

[Shade – Level 198]

"If you're that high-leveled, then why were we running? Together, we could have taken that Blazer," Meera blurted out without realizing it.

He gave her a small smile. "Yes, but like you said, we would've created too much of a scene."

"Who did this to you, Shade?" the man asked.

He looked away. "My father."

Meera almost teared up. What kind of a father would do this to their child?

"Must love you dearly then," the man said without a hint of humor.

"Lots," replied Dirik. He was about to wear his mask again, but the man interjected.

"Stop," the man said. "You better just leave it off. The others are going to make you take it off anyways."

Dirik's face lit up. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

"Now, before you come in here, know this, if you're not who you say you are, or your reasons seem false, or you lie to us, or if we just don't plain like you…you won't be leaving this place alive. Neither of you. Understand?"

Dirik nodded.

Meera Identify'd the man.

[Keeper of Records – Level 187]

Meera squinted at him. She understood why they would only send him out. Despite his high level, he could be written off as a scribe in the mayor's office or some other office.

"I understand," Meera said.

"Follow me, then. My name is Brison, and you two are?"

Meera and Dirik gave him their names before walking through the door. The inside seemed like a typical house. Nothing special about it. They walked into a lounging area with some empty couches. There were two doors on the right. They passed the first one, and he opened the second, which led to a mostly empty room. There was a table with some books and scrolls and a wooden chair that was about it.

He picked up a small leather-bound book from the table and scribbled something in it, not with a quill but just his finger. Meera saw no writing, but a spot on the ground disappeared, leading to stairs that led into darkness.

"Are you like a Shadow Scribe?" Dirik asked the question on Meera's mind.

Brison scoffed. "I'm nothing like those primitive, emotionless women. As you saw, I don't need a quill to write in my book, and second." He ripped a page out, but nothing happened. "See, no pain. I'm not bound to a single book." He tossed the book aside. "I can pick up any book, or even a page is enough for me. You want to disarm a Shadow Scribe, break their quill. What are they going to write with?"

Meera took mental notes.

"It's not so easy to get to their quills," Dirik retorted.

"Sure, it is. Now, follow me."

He descended the stairs and picked up the torch burning on the wall. As soon as Meera followed Dirik down the stairs, the opening behind her vanished. There was a musty smell to the place. Every instinct Meera had told her that she was walking into a trap, but she was in it now. They walked for a long time.

This tunnel must go all around the city.

Finally, they came up on a ladder. Brison placed the torch in a holder on the wall, climbed the ladder, and knocked on the square trapdoor. A moment later, it opened, and she saw the face of a beautiful woman.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"What do you have there, Brison?" She looked over at Dirik, who smiled at her. "Dinner?"

"Could be dinner or a waste of time," Brison said as he climbed out of the tunnel. "Come on up, you two."

Dirik was the first one out, with Meera close behind. It took her a moment to get used to the light after the tunnel's darkness. They were in a room that overlooked the city wall. She saw the blue and white marking. Their room felt more like something straight out of a movie.

Including the woman who opened the trap door, five people—three men and two women lounged around in chairs or on the floor. A skinny man in his thirties in a loose shirt was snoring away.

[Colossus Warden – Level ??]

Another, who seemed older with flecks of gray through his hair and light stubble, was polishing his sword. The sword was as handsome as the man himself, and the blade must've been about five feet long.

[Gladiator Warden – Level ??]

To his right was a woman who was reading a book. She had white hair, pure white skin, and almost red eyes, but she wasn't old. Meera would have put her around her own age. She knew a person who had albinism back home, but this woman was the first she had seen in this world.

[Archer Warden – Level ??]

A muscular man with a mustache was sleeping with his head in her lap. She played with his hair as she read the book. The man looked so peaceful that for a moment, Meera thought he was dead, but he just had his eyes closed and a smile on his lips.

[Guardian Warden – Level ??]

Lastly was the beautiful woman who had greeted Brison as they entered the room. She had a small mole below her lips. Naturally plump lips and long, flowing hair, which Meera was immediately jealous of. Burn in hell, Garas.

[Stormweaver Warden – Level ??]

Meera felt severely under-leveled as she couldn't see their levels and could only imagine how strong these people were. Dirik, on the other hand, felt like a kid who had come to the fair, and his parents had told him he could eat whatever or go on any rides he wished. Meera expected him to start drooling any second.

"Did a wolf chew out your face?" The Archer Warden said, without even taking her eyes off the book.

"Says his father did that to him," Brison said.

They all looked at Dirik at that. Even the muscular man, the Guardian Warden, opened his eyes at that. Then he shot to his feet so fast that even with Meera's advanced vision, all she saw was a blur. Another blur later, he towered over Dirik, leaning down, beaming at the scarred boy. "Oh my, you're a Shade. I've never seen one of you. Heard lots of things about Shades but never seen one." The man must've matched the behemoth Phoenix Protector in height. He stood almost two feet taller than Dirik. There was a gravity to being around someone that large, yet Meera sensed no malice from the man. "What can you do? I bet you have all kinds of shadow powers. Can you turn into a bat? Or how about—"

"Take a breath, love," The Archer Warden said, finally raising her red eyes from her book. "Besides, if I were you, I would find the other much more enticing."

His eyes turned to her, and he yelped, clasping his hands on his heart. "Oh my, what is a Reflection Hunter? You must tell me your class. Please, and…and…” He practically pounced on her, taking her arms in her meaty hands.

Meera's heart was in her throat.

"Where did you get a divine weapon? It says you are blessed by Lady Midiea…Just who are you?" His eyes were so big that any second, they would pop out of his head.

"Okay, back up, big guy." Brison pulled Meera back from him. "We'll give you time to ask questions before we decide to axe them."

"But-But they're so rare. I want to keep them both."

"Keep us?" Meera and Dirik asked at the same time.

Dirik put on his mask. "Sirs and ma'ams, I came to join you all as a Warden of Numheia."

Everyone got quiet. They stared at each other and laughed, all except the sleeping man. He slept through the racket, somehow. Meera felt second-hand shame for Dirik. She had been in situations like these before. It was never nice being laughed at. She placed a hand on his shoulder to comfort him while he just stared at the ground.

"Okay, everyone, let's pipe down," The Stormweaver said. "Before he wakes up and gets mad." They slowly calmed down, though the Gladiator took some time.

"So, Shade," Stormweaver stepped forward, caressing his masked face. "How did you find us?"

"I'm a Shade. This is what we do."

"I suppose, and you?" She looked to Meera. "Do you wish to join as well?"

"No, not really. I only came because I owed him, I guess," Meera replied. "And he thought you lot might try to kill him."

"She is the one who killed that Phoenix Protector in open combat," Brison said. Heads turned to him. He nodded. "I saw it myself. It was shoddy work, but she got it done by the skin of her teeth."

"My, my, you must be some warrior to take down one of them by yourself," Stormweaver said.

"Why? Are they difficult to kill?" Meera asked.

The Guardian laughed out loud. "What else could be expected of one blessed by the Lady of Mirrors."

Archer snorted. "Aren't you an overconfident one?"

"Well, dear Shade, let me just say this, you're too weak to join," Stormweaver said. "And even if you weren't, you wouldn't survive our test?"

"What test?" Dirik looked at each of them in turn. "I'm ready to take any test."

Brison patted his shoulder. "Leave it, kid. You don't want to know because if we tell you, the test is on. No going back. It's easier if you just let us kill you."

Meera squinted. "What the hell?"

"If that is the other option, then let me just take your test," Dirik said.

The Gladiator, who had finished polishing his blade, stood. "Eh, what's the harm? It'll kill some boredom."

Stormweaver sighed. "Sure. Why not? It's easy, my dear Shade. You have to pick one of us and defeat that person in battle, and you're in."

"Just like that?"

She smiled. "Just like that. Because you're so severely handicapped, we'll let your friend join you. Now, take your pick." She spread her arms wide as all four came to stand shoulder-to-shoulder.

Dirik looked to Meera. "Who should I pick?"

"That's not allowed. Since you want to join, you must pick."

Dirik swallowed. Meera couldn't even see their levels, so they were all equally dangerous to her. She hoped Dirik's Identify was more leveled than hers. Their tags were all fearful.

"I pick…" Dirik pointed at the thin, sleeping man. The Colossus Warden. "Him."

They all sighed simultaneously.

"That was just about the worst choice," Stormweaver said.

"Why does everyone always pick him." Archer shook her head.

The Guardian looked like he was already planning their funeral. "Please don't die for my sake."

"But he's the lowest leveled of you all," Dirik protested.

"A few levels don't mean much when you're at our level. He might have the lowest level, but he's our captain." The Gladiator smiled. "Have fun dying."

With that, he kicked his captain in the ribs.