The boys assembled around a wide wooden table in a room with simple furnishings and large windows letting in the morning light. Mikos, standing at the end of the table, had a map rolled out in front of him. He waited until all four boys were seated before he began to speak.

"You’ve all arrived here under unusual circumstances," Mikos began, his voice steady but firm. "This is an opportunity to reshape your future, and it starts with understanding what lies ahead."

The boys exchanged glances, each reflecting their own mix of curiosity and unease. Viktor caught Arelos’ eye, noting the intrigue there, while Fenric and Soren shared a knowing smirk, their tension masked by bravado.

Mikos continued, "Mornings will start early with physical training—this will be your routine before breakfast."

Fenric raised an eyebrow, looking mildly concerned. "How early are we talking? I don’t fancy waking up before the rooster crows," he quipped, his tone hopeful for compromise.

Mikos chuckled. "Early enough to build some character, son. You'll get used to it," he replied, maintaining a friendly demeanor.

Soren leaned back in his chair, smirking. "We sure that's a good thing? I think Fenric is already a bit too much character as is."

Fenric rolled his eyes dramatically. "Keep talking, Soren, and you’ll find out what 'mystery ingredient' really means."

Soren snorted. "If poisoning me means you’ll finally learn the difference between salt and sugar, maybe I’ll take the risk."

Mikos let the boys’ banter die down before continuing. "Once breakfast is done, you’ll start your lessons," he said, gesturing to the map’s marked areas. "We’ll cover subjects like literacy, mathematics, economics, history, politics, and cryptography."

Arelos leaned forward slightly to get a better look at the map. "And what exactly are these studies preparing us for?"

"For becoming effective operators within the guild," Mikos replied smoothly, his tone firm but encouraging. "Knowledge is power, and understanding the world’s currents will help you navigate complex situations."

Soren nodded, thoughtful. "Makes sense. The more we know, the better choices we can make."

Fenric crossed his arms with exaggerated disdain. "Books are for people with nothing better to do than prattle on about nonsense."

Soren smirked. "Big words coming from someone who can barely read."

Fenric’s jaw tightened. "And you tell me—what has reading ever done for me?"

"To figure that out, you’d first have to be able to do more than read a simple signpost," Soren replied, his tone mocking.

Fenric waved him off. "Bah! Quick legs and a sharp knife—that’s all a man needs to fix any situation."

Arelos sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We’re never going to get through this if you two keep bickering."

Mikos allowed their exchange to settle once more before speaking again, "After lunch, you’ll have free time to rest or consult with peers. It’s important to balance work with leisure. Later in the day, there will be a single combat training session for everyone," Mikos said, tapping the map to indicate a large room at the rear of the property. "Following that, Viktor will have private training with Voralis to focus on honing specific skills."

Viktor nodded in acknowledgment, saying nothing.

Mikos’s gaze swept across the boys, his voice firm but encouraging. "Evenings might run late, but dedication is what will set you apart and prepare you for the challenges ahead." He paused briefly, letting the weight of his words settle. "Remember, the guild invests in you because it sees potential. We've forged many remarkable individuals over the years, some who have gone on to shape the very course of history itself."

The boys exchanged looks. Despite the looming difficulties, a shared sense of determination flickered among them.

"Any questions or concerns before we continue?" Mikos prompted.

Soren tilted his head thoughtfully. "When do we start applying what we learn in the real world—missions and such?"

Mikos smiled, clearly expecting the question. "When you’re ready. Sending unprepared members into the field would be reckless, and a waste of resources. Focus on building a solid foundation first."

Viktor leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "What exactly is the purpose of the guild?"

Mikos folded his arms, a knowing smile spreading across his face. "Why don’t you boys take a guess? What’s driven civilizations since the dawn of time?"

"Coin," Arelos stated confidently.

"That's right," Mikos said with a chuckle. "It all comes down to money."

Viktor raised an eyebrow. "Just money? That seems a bit... basic."

Mikos laughed heartily. "Were you expecting some grand conspiracy to overthrow the kingdom? Maybe a shadowy plot involving a hidden council manipulating events from the shadows, or an ancient cult seeking to summon forgotten gods?"

Viktor hesitated, then shrugged sheepishly. "A little, yeah."

Mikos smirked. "No, nothing like that. This guild has endured for over half a millenia because coin is a timeless motivator. Greed drives the world. It’s straightforward and enduring. When groups pursue lofty ideals, they often falter. Either they achieve their goal and lose direction, or they crumble under internal conflicts and dwindling resources."

"So, greed keeps everything going? Isn’t there a point where it’s too much?" Soren asked.

"You’d be surprised," Mikos replied. "Greed is a potent force. It incentivizes loyalty and ensures everyone is invested in the guild’s success."

Fenric nodded, his expression comically serious. "Makes sense to me, I like coin."

Arelos glanced at him dryly. "You like spending it."

Fenric shrugged. "Same thing. Can’t spend it if you don’t have it."

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Mikos chuckled, clearly pleased with their engagement. "Exactly. Everyone finds their own motivation, but it all aligns to benefit the guild as a whole."

Viktor considered this, nodding slowly. "I suppose it makes sense."

"Remember, when everyone’s interests align, the whole prospers. We've got powerful backers who provide both capital as well as political leverage. They each expect a return on their investment," Mikos elaborated.

Viktor leaned forward, intrigued. "And who are these backers?"

Mikos’ smile turned enigmatic. "That’s privileged information. Trust is earned, and as new recruits, your access is limited."

Viktor gave a slight nod, his face calm but serious. He grasped the necessity of caution, knowing it wasn’t a lesson to take lightly.

Soren raised a hand. "Okay, so with everyone out to get coin, does that mean we also get paid?"

Mikos chuckled. "Even recruits receive a small stipend—two coppers a week for now. It’s modest, but your living expenses are covered. As you progress, so will your earnings."

Viktor frowned slightly. "But how do we spend it if we’re stuck here?"

"You’re not confined," Mikos replied. "You’ll have one day a week to explore the city, though I advise caution for now. With the targets on your backs, it’s safer to stay put until things settle."

The boys exchanged uncertain glances. Fenric frowned but stayed quiet. Arelos appeared contemplative, while Soren nodded in understanding.

Mikos let the silence linger for a moment before speaking. "Anything else on your minds? If not, we’ll wrap things up here."

Fenric, unable to contain his curiosity, asked, "What about combat training? What’s that going to be like?"

Mikos laughed, clapping Fenric on the shoulder. "You’ll see soon enough. For now, head to the dining hall. Lunch is nearly ready. Tomorrow, you join the others for your lessons and activities."

Fenric shot a teasing look at Soren. "Think you’ll finally learn to dodge a punch, or should we get you some extra lessons?"

Without missing a beat, Soren landed a hard jab on Fenric’s shoulder.

"Ow! What was that for?" Fenric asked, rubbing his shoulder with an annoyed expression.

Soren grinned. "Guess you’re the one who needs to work on dodging punches."

Viktor’s lips curved into a slight smile as he watched the brothers antics.

As the boys stood to leave, Viktor lingered. "Mikos, how do we keep up? Most of the others seem older and more experienced."

Mikos’ expression softened. "Training is tailored to individual needs. Trust the process."

Before Viktor could leave, Mikos called out, "One more thing: keep your abilities under wraps for now. Information, even within the guild, is shared sparingly."

Viktor nodded, the weight of secrecy settling over him as he joined his companions.

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

The boys made their way to the dining hall, observing two long tables that could each comfortably seat two dozen people. The serving station was currently unmanned, so the boys decided to just claim four seats at the far end of one of the tables while waiting.

"So, the guild’s all about coin," Viktor said, crossing his arms. "Hardly a noble cause."

Arelos shrugged. "Coin moves the world. Without it, even the noblest causes fail."

"True," Viktor admitted. "But it’s still a bit... uninspiring."

Fenric smirked. "Speak for yourselves. I'm plenty inspired."

Ignoring Fenric's remark, Arelos added, "What did you expect? Our first encounter with the guild was moving goods another pawnshop wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole. Of course they’re about coin."

Viktor sighed, leaning back. "I guess I’m not surprised. I was just hoping for something... more."

Soren glanced at him thoughtfully. "You mean like a great quest? One of those stories where you save kingdoms and fight dragons?"

Viktor chuckled. "Something like that."

Fenric waved a hand dismissively. "How about you quest over to the kitchen and find out when lunch is ready?"

Viktor grinned, leaning forward slightly. "That’s no way to talk to your betters, Fenric."

Fenric raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Betters? As if."

The others chuckled, the banter easing into a comfortable silence.

Viktor glanced around, noting the stillness in the room. "Bit strange, isn’t it? All this quiet, like an empty theater before the show starts," he mused.

"It’s odd, alright," Soren added, swinging his feet under the table as he leaned back. "Almost feels like a test, waiting to see what we'll do."

Viktor nudged Fenric lightly. "Knowing you, you’ll try to take the spotlight, right?"

"Naturally," Fenric replied with a grin. "Someone’s gotta keep the young lordling entertained, am I right?"

Arelos glanced around warily. "Watch it, Fen. You don’t know who might overhear us."

Viktor smirked, his tone light. "You do realize that being a lord doesn’t mean you just get to boss people around, right?"

"You sure about that?" Fenric asked, leaning back. "Always seemed like it to me"

Soren smirked. "That’s because you’re thinking about servants, Fen."

Fenric crossed his arms. "So why don’t you have any servants, Vik?"

Viktor rolled his eyes. "With what coin am I supposed to pay them?"

Fenric threw up his hands. "Then what's the point of being a noble?"

Arelos gave him a flat look. "Connections, influence, and, if you’re lucky, a hefty inheritance."

Fenric considered this, nodding slowly. "Alright. Not bad. But I still prefer the servants."

The conversation faded, leaving a charged stillness in its place. The empty hall, with its rows of waiting seats and unspoken expectations, felt like a pause in time. The boys, each lost in their thoughts, began to feel the weight of the guild's world pressing in around them.

Nearly twenty minutes passed before the kitchen door finally swung open, and the staff appeared with trays of steaming food. Potatoes, greens, and roasted meats filled the room with savory aromas.

An attendant rang a bell, its crisp sound reverberating off the stone walls and announcing the arrival of lunchtime.

People soon began to pour in from the hall, quickly forming a queue in front of the serving station. Viktor and his companions joined it, masks of politeness and eagerness as they waited for their turn to be served.

Seated once again, Viktor glanced down at his plate, appreciating the variety: slices of seasoned meats, buttered greens, and a hunk of freshly baked bread. Viktor took a bite, nodding appreciatively as he tasted the savory food.

"Not bad," Fenric remarked, a hint of surprise lining his voice. "Didn’t expect anything fancy."

"Won’t hear me complaining," Soren said, making quick work of his own portion. "A solid meal means we’ll be sharp for whatever they throw at us later, yeah?"

As they delved into their meals, an unfamiliar voice broke through their conversation, attracting their attention. "Oh, look who’s here—new recruits," the voice commented, carrying a tone that was neither friendly nor hostile.

The speaker, a lanky youth with an impish grin, slid smoothly into the empty seat beside Arelos. His expression brimmed with thinly veiled arrogance.

"They weren't kidding when they said they were recruiting kids," the boy said, his voice dripping with insinuation.

Arelos shot him a glare, unimpressed. "You got something to say, just say it."

The boy chuckled softly. "Name's Jax. Heard the whispers. Seems like a big deal, you being the youngest recruits to grace these halls in some time," he said, his casual tone not quite concealing his intent to provoke.

Fenric, unfazed by Jax's bravado, met his gaze directly. "And what about you, Jax? Part of the welcoming committee, or just looking to start something?"

Jax shrugged, leaning back nonchalantly. "Just curious," he replied, his tone breezy. "Heard you lot came in under a bit of a cloud."

"Is that so?" Viktor asked.

"That's right," Jax said, locking eyes with Viktor. "Word’s out about a scrape with another guild," he continued.

Viktor shrugged. "People love their stories, don’t they? Seems like you already think you know more than we do."

Jax leaned back, his smirk deepening. "I suppose," he said, voice dripping with mockery. "Maybe all that noise about you lot is just hot air. Maybe they just brought you here for a good laugh. Rookies like you are only here to pad the numbers."

Fenric's eyes narrowed, his fingers tapping a slow, deliberate rhythm on the table. "Keep talking," he said, his voice low and razor-sharp. "I’d be happy to see how much of that smirk is left after I’m done with you."

Jax's expression shifted slightly, his smirk widening. "Nice fire. But save it, yeah? New here or not, best not start out on the wrong foot."

Viktor put a hand on Fenric's arm, a silent plea for him to hold back. "We’re not here to fight. Just trying to find our place."

Jax studied Viktor for a moment, his grin unwavering. "Guess we'll see," he said, pushing himself up from the table. "Welcome to the guild." Without a backward glance, he strolled away, leaving an uneasy silence in his wake.

"Think he likes us," Soren quipped, picking up his fork again.

Fenric huffed, crossing his arms defiantly. "He thinks he can just waltz in, run his mouth, and walk away like that?"

Arelos looked at Jax's retreating figure, then back to Fenric. "Just let it go, Fen. There's nothing to be gained there."

The line at the serving station gradually dwindled, and the communal space settled into a rhythm of casual chatter and the clatter of cutlery against plates. Finishing their meals, the boys stood, deciding together to explore the manor’s facilities.