During the days that followed, Aether and his faithful sidekick - yes, sidekick - busied themselves with the oh-so-glorious duty of learning about the problems plaguing the Bright Castle.
Aether handled it with ease. Socializing was second nature to him, a stage where every smile and casual remark was another line of dialogue. He strolled through the halls with an easy grin, speaking to residents without ever sounding like he was interrogating them. To anyone watching, he was just another friendly face with too much charm for his own good.
[Trust] Attribute helped him with this.
Seraphine, on the other hand… well, she got the stalker's role. With the stealth memory he had kindly purchased for her, she skulked through corridors, listening in on whispers, tailing suspicious folk, and glaring at him every time they regrouped.
"I'm not a dog, you know," she hissed one night after reporting back on a particularly loud-mouthed hunter.
"You're right," Aether had replied with his signature smile. "Dogs are usually more obedient."
The glare she gave him could have melted steel.
Still, the arrangement worked. Her sharp senses let her follow a target from impossible distances, and Aether knew she was more reliable than he wanted to admit.
It didn't take long before their first "troubleshoot" arrived.
A girl named Aiko, who was running a gambling den, had been being harassed by multiple hunters due to the fact that people thought she had seeked Changing Star's help a couple months ago, because a renowned hunter was not paying his debts.
However that was not the truth, the petite girl had not done anything like that.
Aether decided to help her. Not for free, of course. Five shards was a fair price for his time.
Aether challenged the hunters to a gambling match. If he won, he would leave them alone, however if they lost, they would never bother Aiko ever again.
And if they were caught doing so, Aether warned them in a friendly tone that it would not end well for them.
Just like that, they sat down to gamble.
He robbed them blind. Fifteen awakened shards heavier, he leaned back in his chair with the smug satisfaction of a man who had just stolen candy from several very large, very angry children.
The hunters stormed out of the den with hollow eyes and violated dignity. Aether, on the other hand, bid Aiko a cheerful farewell. Twenty shards richer, he strolled away humming like a man who had finally figured out how delightful "troubleshooting" could be.
As for Seraphine? He flicked her five shards.
"Five? That's it?" she barked.
He absorbed the rest with a grin. "You'll have to work harder if you want more. Sidekicks don't come cheap."
Her response was a string of muttered curses that made him laugh all the way back to their quarters.
***
The duo continued for two months like this, until they couldn't.
The workload had become insane. What started as the occasional "favor" quickly turned into a mountain of requests. Every time they solved one issue, two more appeared. The residents of the Bright Castle had begun whispering about the "troubleshooters," and with every rumor spread, another desperate soul came knocking.
And Aether's progress had slowed to a crawl. His soul cores were barely moving. After all this time, he had only gathered enough fragments to reach the halfway point of his fourth core. Back in the labyrinth, he would have already been a devil by now. Instead, he was stagnating, drowning in petty problems.
It was time to form a group of followers.
***
Aether leaned back in his chair, folding his hands as he studied the girl across the table. Seraphine looked far too relaxed for someone he had just tasked with scouting the Bright Castle and outer settlement.
"I scouted all around, just like you asked," she began, her tone half bored, half smug. "Didn't go too deep into the outer settlement, since you said I should stay low."
She then held out one finger.
She raised one finger. "I found only one worth mentioning. A man named Veynar. Lives here in the castle, occasionally hunts for shards. From what I've learned, his aspect is transcendent, gives him unparalleled skill with the sword. And apparently…" She smirked. "There are rumors that he cleared his first nightmare blind."
Aether raised an eyebrow. "Blind?"
"That's what they say." She leaned back further, arms crossed. "Sounds like an exaggeration, but if it's true… he's wasted just sitting around here."
"Then why hasn't anyone recruited him?"
"Because he's a drunk." Seraphine sighed. "His flaw makes him an alcoholic, and after losing his original cohort, he hasn't joined anyone else. They say he refuses every invitation he gets."
Aether nodded slowly, piecing it together. An isolated swordsman, weighed down by loss, dulled by alcohol, and yet still capable of feats others couldn't dream of. Recruiting him wouldn't be easy, but if he succeeded, Veynar would become a pillar.
"Anything else?" he asked.
"No," Seraphine replied without hesitation. "That's all. So…" Her eyes narrowed mischievously. "What are we calling this little faction of yours?"
Aether smiled. He had thought long and hard about it, about what kind of name would carry both weight and irony. "The Church of the Godless," he said finally. "That will be our name."
Seraphine blinked. Then blinked again.
"…A godless church? That's… very weird." She gave him a look, equal parts judgmental and amused, as though he had just declared himself emperor of clowns. "What's my rank? Something big, I hope."
"I've decided our ranking will not follow normal church hierarchy, since I am the Blasphemer." Aether said calmly, ignoring her tone. He pointed at himself. "The highest rank is Lord. That is me. Second will be the Priest."
Her lips curled into a grin. "You're actually giving me second rank? Oh, this must hurt you."
Aether's eye twitched as she stared at him expectantly. "My heart bleeds at the thought. But yes. Congratulations, Priestess."
She threw her arms up dramatically. "Hail to Lord Blasphemer!" she declared, her voice loud and mocking.
Aether grimaced. "That's enough."
Still smiling, she slouched in her chair again, satisfied.
"We'll visit Veynar tomorrow," Aether said at last. "Get some rest. The real work begins then."
***
In a dimly lit underground tavern, a man sat slouched behind a table. Several empty cups were scattered in front of him, the remnants of his quiet indulgence.
It was Veynar.
His face was narrow and sharply defined, every angle seeming to catch the faintest glimmer of light. His skin carried the deep warmth of bronze. His eyes, gray, half-veiled by the fall of his bangs, carried a piercing weight, keen, calculating, with the kind of cold focus that made it difficult to look away. His hair spilled in thick, raven-dark strands, long enough to brush his shoulders, with uneven locks framing his face in a deliberate, windswept disorder. Pulled back into a tied knot, the rest cascaded down his back in heavy waves, its sheen tempered by a wild, uncombed quality, as though nature itself had shaped it more than any comb.
His clothing bore the scars of long roads and harsher battles. The white of his sleeves, once pristine, was frayed and torn, stained with faint traces of dried crimson. The outer layers hung ragged, edges ripped into jagged tatters that whispered of countless encounters. A darker sash cinched his waist, its folds layered but far from orderly, pulled tight only by necessity. Beneath, deeper fabrics in muted greens and browns peeked through the disarray, hints of the garment's original elegance still lingering beneath the ruin. The coat's longer panels split unevenly, their hems shredded by time and struggle, and where the cloth gave way, the scars of wear spoke louder than any armor. It was not attire chosen for display, but for survival-clothing that had endured as much as the man himself.
Veynar did not usually visit the tavern, he liked to buy his alcohol from the drink shop nearby. The lady that worked there had an aspect that could make different types of liquid, alcohol being one of them.
Why was here then? Because a letter had been dropped to his head when he was walking down the halls of the bright castle, inviting him to the tavern.
Veynar usually ignored these types of invitations. Knowing they would end up with people wanting to recruit him to their cohort.
However this time around Veynar had not even sensed the person that had dropped the letter onto his head. Usually no one could escape his senses. So he was intrigued by whoever it was that invited him.
Some time passed, however no one was coming. The amount of cups in front of him had grown in number. He was about to get up to leave when the bell of the taverns door chimed, and two figures entered the tavern.
It was the new lieutenant of the bright castle, and his sidekick. The Blasphemer was a handsome man with dark hair that fell over his shoulder and stopped there. His bangs were messy in an elegant way, and he was wearing some fancy garment.
Veynar knew about him. He had defeated the hunchback Harus on his second day within the castle with a simple command and was the youngest lieutenant of Gunlaug's castle. During his two months within the castle, he had solved many problems within all by himself and his sidekick who was..
Next to him was a woman as tall as him, slightly shorter. She had navy hair that was tied into heavy twin tails. She was beautiful too, however for Veynar no one was more beautiful than the lady that made him alcohol.
Aether approached the table, smiling politely. "Greetings, sir Veynar. My apologies for making you wait." He pulled the chair for the woman, who crossed her legs gracefully as she sat.
"Greetings," Veynar replied, his voice low, tired. Seeing Aether still standing, he grabbed a chair from another table, placing it before the man. Aether raised a brow but nodded in thanks and took the seat.
"I am Aether, and this is Seraphine. We are-"
Veynar held up a hand, halting him. "I am aware of who you are. But first… one question."
Aether inclined his head. "Go ahead."
"Which one of you dropped the letter?"
Seraphine raised her hand apologetically. "I did. I meant to place it in front of you, not on your head. My apologies."
Veynar's lips twitched, almost a smile. "That is… acceptable."
Seraphine lowered her hand, tucking it neatly into her lap. Aether leaned back slightly, watching Veynar with an easy smile, though his mind was already calculating how to approach this swordsman.
"Very well," Veynar said, his gray eyes flicking between them. "I assume your visit is not social. You want something from me."
"You are correct," Aether replied smoothly, resting his hands lightly on the table. "We are looking for capable individuals. We believe your skills and your reputation could be invaluable."
Yellow sparks shimmered in Veynar's hand. A flute appeared, and then he put it on the table. The flute created an invisible bubble around them that would not allow sound to go through.
"I usually ignore such requests. Even Changing Star tried to reach out to me." Veynar crossed his arms. "However I would like to hear you out. What do you offer?"
Aether's smile widened at his response. This was going well for now. "Apparently, I am creating a faction which will be independent from both Gunlaug and Changing Star. The members will solely answer to me."
Aether knew that telling the man about his intentions could be dangerous. But from the mind link he had created with him, he knew that Veynar was not going to sell him out on anyone.
"I have already gathered some followers. The factions purpose is to escape the forgotten shore at all costs. And once we are out of here, I am not planning to disband the faction."
"You are rather ambitious." Veynar said dryly. "What will be my position in this faction of yours?"
"It is rather simple. While I am gathering followers and doing my duties, you will be hunting in the dark city with a cohort that I will gather for you. Me and Seraphine will join you frequently."
Green flames shimmered in his hands as a cup was summoned into existence. He put the cup on the table.
At that moment, Veynar's eyes widened as he observed the cup. He could recognize alcohol from a mile away and understand its quality. And this cup was filled with very rich alcohol!
"This is a memory of the awakened rank. It contains infinite amount of alcohol inside. If you accept my offer, you will never have to pay for alcohol anymore, and you will always have it beside you."
Veynar was conflicted. He wanted that memory at all costs, but the memory of him not being able to protect his own cohort in the past lingered.
After a long sigh, he spoke. "I accept. But if you ever build an army, I do not wish to command it."
Aether was not surprised by his decision. He could tell the man had some deep seated trauma, so he would not push him further.
"We have a deal then." Aether extended his hand towards him, which he took.
[You have transferred a memory.]
"What is the name of your faction?" Veynar asked as all of them got up from their seats.
Aether gave him a rather eerie smile. "Church of the Godless."