"I walk unseen, loyal to truths veiled. I give my loyalty to the guild, to watch, gather, and safeguard. If I betray this trust, let my voice fade and my name be forgotten. From this moment, I am the unseen and the keeper of untold truths," Viktor repeated, his voice echoing softly in the dimly lit space.

When he finished, he pricked his finger with the needle, watching as a small bead of blood formed and then swiftly pressed it to the designated spot in the ledger.

The man wiped the needle with an alcohol-soaked rag before offering it to the next boy. Soren followed Viktor's example, his tone more solemn, the weight of the pledge apparent in his eyes. A quiet determination marked his words as he completed the oath and marked the ledger with his blood.

Fenric stepped up next, his usual bravado momentarily subdued as he repeated the pledge. Despite his nonchalant demeanor, a flicker of serious contemplation crossed his face as he pricked his finger and added his mark.

Finally, Arelos stepped forward, his calm and measured voice breaking the quiet. Each word of the pledge was spoken with precision and intent. Pricking his finger without hesitation, he added his blood to the ledger before stepping back with quiet grace.

Faros clapped his hands softly, a satisfied smile on his face. "Welcome to the Black Cipher," he announced, his voice resonant with triumph. There was a pause, a moment allowing them each to absorb the gravity of their new commitment.

Faros then glanced around the room, his expression shifting to one of authority. "The first order of business," he began, "is for everyone, save Mikos, Voralis, and Viktor, to leave the room."

Immediately, the other men started moving to leave, seemingly aware that Faros's requests were to be followed without question. But Viktor hesitated, a defiant look flashing across his face.

"If this is about my past," Viktor said firmly, his voice unwavering despite the weight of his words, "then Arelos, Soren, and Fenric deserve to stay. They’re part of this too."

A disgruntled murmur rippled through the men until one spoke, irritation evident in his voice. "Who are you to question the Warden?" he demanded.

Faros raised his hand, calming the tension instantly. "There’s no need for that," he said soothingly. "They may all stay, as Viktor requests. But the rest of you, out."

With a subtle nod, the men filed out of the room, leaving Viktor and his friends alone with Mikos, Voralis, and Faros. The chamber fell silent once more, the only sound the faint crackling of the torch flames, as Viktor prepared to confront whatever revelations lay ahead.

----------------------------------------

The room's atmosphere shifted, taking on a heavier air. "What we discuss tonight stays within these walls, nothing ends up on the records," Faros stressed, looking to Mikos, who gave a small nod of acknowledgment.

Turning back to Viktor, Faros offered a contemplative look. "Viktor—or do you prefer Lord Avlorios?" he queried, a slight smile playing on his lips.

Viktor's eyes widened slightly, caught off guard. "How long have you known?" he asked, his voice careful yet probing.

"Not for very long," Faros admitted with a mild shrug. "We didn't initially think you could be one of the Avlorios family, especially with everyone thinking you were... well, dead, though the name is... a giveaway, don’t you think?"

Viktor nodded, unsure how to respond.

Faros paused, the quiet settling in the room like dust. "What happened at the Avlorios estate, really? The official word was that a fire consumed it all in one tragic sweep, no survivors. Many questioned how not a single occupant, staff included, managed to escape a simple house fire. Did anyone else make it out, Viktor—or was it truly just you?" Faros asked, a keen edge to his inquiry.

Viktor took a deep breath. "They were all murdered," he began, his voice tinged with a bitterness he couldn’t mask. "I'm the only one who survived... and it's only because of a mix-up in identity."

"A mix-up in identity?" Faros pressed.

Viktor hesitated, then nodded. "The killers mistook someone else for me—thought they'd finished their work, leaving me... still very much alive," he explained, his fist clenching in his lap without realizing.

Faros nodded slowly. "And these killers, did you see them?"

"No," Viktor replied, his gaze falling to the side, a shadow passing over his face. "I overheard some of what was said, but I didn’t get a good look at anyone."

Faros' expression was one of quiet contemplation. "And what did you overhear, exactly?"

Viktor glanced at the others, the silent but curious anticipation visible in their eyes. Eventually, he broke the stillness, recounting what he’d overheard with a voice tinged with lingering bitterness. "It seemed like my father was caught up in something," Viktor began, his expression darkening as he recalled the ominous words he'd heard. "They mentioned his ambition, that it was in part why they came for my family. But I still don’t understand what it could all mean. What ambition would warrant killing children?"

Faros took a deep breath, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed Viktor's tale. "Your father's ambition—do you have any inkling what he might have pursued that led to such a disaster?" His voice held a probing edge, pressing Viktor for any hidden details.

Viktor slowly shook his head, frustration etching lines across his young face. "I really don’t know," he replied, his voice tinged with a sadness that spoke volumes of the helplessness he felt. "They kept saying things like it was the only move left on the board, but it doesn’t make any sense to me."

Faros nodded thoughtfully, his gaze never leaving Viktor's. "Was there anything else you picked up on? Any other details that might hint at motives beyond what's obvious?"

Viktor hesitated before answering, the memory still raw. "They made it sound crucial that specifically I, and possibly my mother die that night," he stated, a tremor in his voice betraying emotions he struggled to keep in check.

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The weight of his words hung heavily in the room, each listener digesting the implications in their own way. Faros began pacing softly, his mind turning over the scant pieces of the puzzle they had.

Eventually, he glanced at Mikos. "Does House Avlorios have any political rivals that come to mind? Anything that might point to a family feud or old grudge?" he inquired.

Mikos’ tone was measured, his words deliberate. “An ancient name,” he began, his gaze steady. “Once, they were one of the great houses of the empire.” He paused, his eyes flicking to Viktor, as if weighing his next words. “But their fortunes turned with the collapse of the empire and the chaos of the civil wars that followed. Since then, they’ve faded into obscurity, becoming a minor player on the stage of history. For centuries, their influence has been confined to local affairs, their struggles limited to small-scale disputes. In fact, we’re not aware of any significant political adversaries they’ve faced for several generations.” His voice carried the weight of historical perspective, but his expression remained neutral, as if inviting Viktor to fill in the gaps.

Viktor said nothing, unaware of any enemies his father might have been courting.

"Curious," Faros mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "What ambition could this be, then?"

A thoughtful silence fell over them. In the dim light, the shadows seemed to deepen, wrapping around the room like a shroud.

Breaking the quiet, Faros turned back to Viktor. "You said that you and your mother were explicitly targeted?"

"Yes," Viktor replied.

Faros turned to Mikos. "How about our archives? What do we know about the mother's lineage? Any concealed histories that might have gone unnoticed?"

Mikos shook his head. "Surprisingly, our records on her are sparse. There hasn't been much documented beyond her origins from a minor house in the Kingdom of Vorum," he informed them.

Faros nodded, before turning back to Viktor: "I'm sorry if I'm overstepping a line, but, is there anything unusual about your mother's background that you'd be willing to share?"

Viktor took a moment to think, shaking his head slightly. "Beyond being a foreigner? Not really. Nothing that stands out at least," he confessed. "She had no siblings, and her own parents passed before I was born. She joined the family through an arranged marriage and settled here just before I was born."

Faros stroked his chin thoughtfully, his eyes fixed on Viktor. "What about you then, Viktor? Could your abilities be related to why your family was targeted?"

"I don't think so? I wouldn't exactly call my abilities impressive," Viktor replied, uncertainty clouding his expression.

Faros tilted his head, studying Viktor. “What spells are you able to perform?”

Viktor rubbed the back of his neck, visibly uncomfortable. “None?”

Faros frowned, his gaze sharpening. “What do you mean none? Voralis have witnessed you unlock doors, and I’ve personally seen you cast levitation.”

Viktor hesitated before answering. “I don’t think those count as spells,” he said quietly.

Faros crossed his arms. “What makes you say that? What training have you received?”

“I haven’t received any training, and I don't know any spells,” Viktor admitted. “It feels wrong to even call myself a mage, especially after failing the Crown’s Academy test.”

Faros straightened, surprise flashing across his face. “You failed the test?”

“Yes,” Viktor said, meeting his gaze. “I’m surprised you didn’t know."

Faros’s expression turned thoughtful. “Then how do you explain what you can do?”

Viktor shrugged, his discomfort giving way to a resigned tone. “Instinct and practice? I can somehow sense objects and will them to move, but I can't claim to understand how it actually works.”

Faros narrowed his eyes, his voice incredulous. “Unstructured magic? You’re saying you can unlock a door with unstructured magic?”

Viktor nodded reluctantly. “I mean, it took a lot of practice, but yeah?”

“He did spend a disturbing amount of time fiddling with that door," Arelos cut in, his tone dry.

Viktor couldn’t help but smirk at the unexpected jab, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Weren’t you the one who kept cheering me on to keep practicing what I’d already written off as a mostly useless skill at the time?” he quipped, his tone light with mock defensiveness.

Arelos shrugged, smirking. “Fair point.”

"Magic without formal structure... it's quite something," Faros mused, ignoring the banter. "Using pure instinct to lift even something as small as a cup sounds simple, but it requires a talent not everyone possesses. You're perhaps more of a mage than you think." He paused thoughtfully, amusement coloring his expression. "Unless, of course, you somehow have access to an endless supply of arcane serums and have been downing an absurd amount of wealth like water without us noticing, which I doubt."

Viktor chuckled at the image Faros painted, seizing the moment to lighten the mood. "If I had that kind of coin, I wouldn't be hanging around with this ragtag group," he said, nodding towards Arelos, Fenric, and Soren.

Fenric feigned hurt, but his eyes twinkled playfully. "Gets called 'Lord Avlorios' just once, and now he's already looking down on us."

"Nobility, what d’ya expect," Soren chimed in, a smirk matching his brother's.

Arelos simply shook his head, doing his best to look disappointed but obviously joining in the banter silently.

Turning serious again, Viktor focused back on Faros. "So, what's the plan now?"

Faros considered Viktor’s question carefully before answering, "This discussion raised more questions than it answered," he confessed. "For tonight, it's best you boys get some rest." Faros paused, his eyes meeting each of theirs in turn. "Tomorrow, we'll move you to another safehouse. You'll join other initiates there and start learning about our operations."

Soren perked up at this mention, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. "Other initiates? How many are we talking about here?"

Faros smiled lightly but remained non-committal. "All will be revealed in time, young man. Focus on resting for now," he suggested, effectively closing the topic. "Off you go, get some sleep."

The boys took Faros’s advice, leaving the room one by one. As they headed down the corridor to their accommodations, the weight of their decision to join the Black Cipher settled over them, each grappling with their place in this secretive new world they were about to enter.

----------------------------------------

Voralis waited until the boys were out of earshot before turning to Faros, his tone calm. “What are your orders?”

“I’m placing you in charge of the boy’s training and protection,” Faros began, his words weighted with purpose. “And I want you to see what you can uncover about his father. Every detail might matter.”

Voralis studied him, his brow furrowing slightly. “You’re certain this is the best use of our resources?” he asked, skepticism edging his voice. “At a time like this, with so much at stake, for something so seemingly… personal.”

Faros’s gaze didn’t waver. “Yes,” he said, “In fact, I believe it’s vital. There’s a connection here—something bigger at play—and I intend to find out what it is.”

Voralis held his stare for a moment, then nodded, his skepticism giving way to resolve. “Very well. And the other boys?”

“They’re good stock,” Faros said, his tone shifting slightly as he considered them. “They’ve got potential. Prepare them as best you can, but the Avlorios boy remains your main priority. His survival and readiness are critical.”

Voralis inclined his head. “Understood. I’ll ensure he’s prepared for whatever comes.”

Faros then turned to Mikos, his demeanor softening, though his authority remained unmistakable. “Mikos, I’m transferring you alongside the boys.”

Mikos straightened, curiosity flashing in his eyes. “What will my role entail, sir?”

“You’ll serve as their steward and educator,” Faros explained. “They’ll need guidance, not just in their studies but in understanding the larger picture of what they’ve been drawn into.”

Mikos hesitated briefly. “And the current steward at the other safehouse?”

Faros’s tone was steady, leaving no room for debate. “He’ll be sent here to take your place. You’re better suited to this task.”

Mikos nodded slowly, absorbing the weight of the assignment. “Very well, sir. I’ll see to it. The boys will be ready to move at dawn.”

Faros gave an approving nod. “Good. Keep me in the loop, I want to be informed of any potential development.”

With that, the conversation drew to a close, each man departing with a clear understanding of their role.