Becoming Legend

"Was it a success?" a low and weak voice whined inside a room. Aside from the half-open windows, no other ways for the beams of the sun to enter the room shrouded in darkness. Coldness streamed the room.

Opposite the windows was a bed adorned with golden beads over its edges with thin, and expensive curtains blurring the view of anyone who wanted to peek inside.

But the man, kneeling on one, has never tried to raise his head, nor throw a glance at the man inside the bed. A thick hood was covering his face, but it wasn't enough to hide the markings under his neck: droplets of blood inside a circular pattern.

"It was. But—"

Chains rattled inside the bed. And the last thing the kneeling man heard was a struggle of both anguish and cry leaving someone's windpipe.

"It was—but?" the man said weakly. The struggling voice ended with a smooth, and lifeless arm hanging over the edge of the bed.

"But someone intervened which resulted in the death of Thirteen." The kneeling man could barely breathe, not because he was sick, but because of the chilling presence of the man within the bed. The hair stood behind his neck as he tried to deviate his eyes away from the lifeless arm. Yet, he grinned.

"And?"

The kneeling man's shoulder shuddered as he reached for an orb swaddled under his jacket vested with red and stripes of black. "This will explain everything," he said extending his hands with the orb resting over his palms as though he was offering.

Yet, the man never made a move. "Do you want me to go there?" He huffed instead.

The kneeling man hurriedly scrambled with his feet as he approached the side of the bed, curtains brushing his face.

He never moved any closer with his hand extended through the gaps of the curtains with the orb he was offering. A brush of cold skin he felt after the orb left his hand.

Behind the curtains was a silhouette of a thin, almost bone of a man as the orb gleamed of yellow light. Another silhouette appeared beside the man. His eyes trembled looking at the body curved to perfection. Just by looking at the dead body, the man's body started to shake. He shook his head to deviate his feelings away from the dead body.

"He wasn't one of us," said the man while catching his breath.

Controlling the thrill rushing his body and mind, the man went back to kneel, and bowed, and said, "With careful consideration, my team determined he was an impostor."

And as though the thin man knew what he was thinking, he said weakly, "And he wasn't alone."

The question the two needed to answer was: Who gave the impostor the information about their mission?

"Impostors beyond impostors," the weak man added. "Looking at this, it seemed that you're losing grasp of the Bloods in Bogblot. Also, this impostor was with a beast. Find out who he is."

"I already sent orders to the one in charge, and soon, we will hear from them who the impostor is."

"Initiative." The thin man coughed and laid the orb next to the unmoving silhouette beside him. His hand shaking from the simple task. "Coming from a man who's lost half of the people I recommended."

"Please forgive m—"

"Enough," the thin man said softly. Yet the room felt as though it was shaking. And for a moment, from the corner of his eyes, the kneeling man saw a sheen of light under the thin man's hand. "Enough with this. You won't be worthy of a gift if you can't even bring this impostor's head."

"I am worthy." The kneeling man pleaded with his voice.

"You better be, Third."

The voice came a wonder to Third—he grinned under his hood. "I will be so that I am, Father."

For a moment, the room fell quiet and warmth brimmed the room. Third raised his head to look at the man whom he called Father. Yet his eyes can't get past the dead body beside Father. He bowed once again, unable to sympathize with the man who did it.

"I received a word from Nine," the man called Father said. "The Order needed more Dust."

"We can't give it to them Father just because they say so."

"You are learning, Third. Yet, still lacking." The silhouette crept toward the wall, fixed with the bed, and pressed his body against it, releasing a sigh of relief. "They weren't asking."

Another silence filled the room. Third, unable to speak his thoughts.

"What do you propose, Third?"

"A test," Third whispered just in time for Father to let out a strong cough followed by a whizz. At that moment, Third turned pale. "Father! Hold on." Third stood but was cut midway.

"I am holding on," Father mumbled behind the curtains. Then, the light from the orb shut off, which made the room turned dark once again. "Do not make me repeat myself, Third."

"Yes, Father!" Third cried which made the room rang with his voice as he went back to kneeling. "The test with Thirteen was a success, so why not ask for more of their Core?"

"And if they said otherwise?"

"Then we stop the supply of kids," Third said without breaking his voice, still kneeling and bowing. "If they wanted to cut as off of their supply of living humans, they should have done so when we were just starting. It has been six years, and they wanted even more. This tells me one thing, Father. We are one—if not the top—supplier of human kids."

The third silence came in through, and this tells Third of one thing: Father is satisfied with his answer.

"Good," Father said. And Third felt there was a smile after that. "Becoming worthy, after all. Speaking of the supplies. What happened to the supplies coming from Scattered Bay?"

"The ship arrived three months ago," Third explained but got no will to look up Father. "One of the Handlers that came with a Royal Knight is one of ours. He said the kids arrived in Titan Cay together with the candidates that passed the Selection process from an unknown island. And a month after the arrival of the first shipment were additional kids from an orphanage—the Handler said—and is now traveling to the Capital. But what baffled me Father is that the Handler never made contact again after the last of the shipments were sent. My people never cut me off."

"They never cut you off, because, perhaps, they turned blood just like the one that happened in the outskirts of Bogmoor?"

"Ghostbloods under me never do that, Father."

The shadow of Father could barely be seen as he raised his hand slowly and weakly to gesture Third that he had enough.

"You know what to do with the shipments. From here, you decide how much of the Dust you will give the Order. I don't care how much, do what is necessary. And perhaps, I might give you a gift none has yet to know but soon be sought after."

"I will be trying my best so that I am worthy of your gift, Father." Third bowed deeply as he vows before Father. In a flash of weak light, the dead body twitched but soon after stopped moving after Third released a grin.

A brief movement of Father's head was seen visible in the corner of Third's eyes. He then said, "Who's going to witness the exams?"

"I have stationed four of our Barons in the Capital. Two in Ring City, and one in the mountain ranges next to the Northern Kingdom."

"What about the Exam in Sudden Plate?"

"None, Father," Third said without worry.

"You better have a good reason to miss the recruitments of new Bloods in Sudden Plate's Hunter Exam."

"The Order said specifically to not bother them as they will be the one testing the candidates there."

"I am not informed by this, why?" Father said under his cracking voice. He coughed.

"This kind of thing should not bother you, Father. Let me handle things regarding the Order."

Father took a long breath, the longest one so far, and was hinted of worry. "The Ancient Order of Seven Genesys," he said worriedly as though narrating a sad lullaby.

"Do not be bothered by them, Father. I know how to handle the Order," Third said deeply. "I will make sure that our Ghostbloods will never cross paths with them. After all, this is all about trade, Father."

"For a moment there, I thought you are One," Father said sadly. "I'm giving you my blessings, Third. I will let everyone know that your word is my word from now on. Be careful though. Do not disappoint me as One and Second did."

"I won't, Father." This time Third knelt on two and pressed his head against the cold wooden floor.

"You may leave." Father waved a hand slowly to dismiss him but was left suspended as Third was seen unmoving.

"Father..." Third said with a shaking voice. "May I... May I..." Lips quivered not because he was afraid, but because he was feeling the excitement rushing his body while he looked at the dead body next to Father after raising his head under the hood. Greyish eyes went wide. "May I have the Elf, Father?"