Jamie stood before the diminished crowd, his gaze sweeping over the remaining contenders. Some choices were clear to him; others required deeper contemplation. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the arena, and a hush fell as everyone awaited his decision.
He had no intention of selecting any of the more seasoned mercenaries. While their performances in the trials had been competent, he knew they could advance without his guidance. They wouldn't find much value in his organization, and their allegiance would be tenuous at best. Moreover, many of them were too cunning, a trait that could undermine his efforts to solidify control over his territory.
"You two did not make it," Jamie declared, pointing to a pair of mercenaries who exchanged incredulous glances. He moved deliberately among the ranks of the experienced fighters, dismissing them one by one. "Thank you for your participation," he said with a curt nod to each.
As they began to depart, the murmurs of discontent were unmistakable.
"What does he want? We were the best fighters here!" one grumbled.
"He must be looking for cheap recruits. No way he's paying eighty coins to anyone," another sneered.
"Pity those who stay behind," a third muttered, shaking his head.
Jamie paid their complaints no mind, his focus remaining on the task at hand. He considered the few who remained from the Lower Quarter but concluded that selecting those who hadn't shown promise would do him little good. With a firm yet polite tone, he dismissed them as well.
In the end, only three individuals stood before him.
‘Aldwin and Bertram,’ Jamie thought, eyeing the two youths. Both were young and held Classes that were seemingly unremarkable. Yet, that very fact made them ideal. "They're raw and adaptable. We can help them grow," he reasoned. Aldwin had shown courage, and despite Bertram's timidity, there was potential waiting to be unlocked.
The last was the elf who had planted a bolt in his leg. Jamie glanced down at the projectile still protruding from his thigh, a stark reminder of her audacity and skill. Her green eyes met his without flinching, a hint of a challenge sparking within them.
‘Could she be a problem?’ he mused silently. Her abilities were formidable, and there was a fierceness in her that could either be an asset or a liability. Trust would need to be built carefully. Weighing the risks, Jamie assessed the potential benefits she could bring.
‘I think she's worth it,’ he concluded.
As Jamie concluded his picks, he finally noticed the cat hovering near his shoulder. Until that moment, it had remained entirely silent.
"Well, this is undoubtedly one of the strangest parties I've ever seen in my life," Jay remarked casually.
With that, the cat floated away, drifting leisurely around the village as if he owned the place.
Jamie shook his head in mild bewilderment, still puzzled by the cat's sudden appearance and equally sudden departure. He had no idea where Jay had come from or where he was headed.
"Alright, you three," Jamie called out, turning his attention back to the remaining trio. "Congratulations. You've advanced to the final stage."
Though it was a moment that warranted celebration, only Bertram managed to crack a tentative smile; the other two remained stoic.
‘Ah, elves,’ Jamie mused to himself, beginning to understand their enigmatic demeanor, though it didn't make their aloofness any less disconcerting.
"Now then, I'll just need a few minutes with each of you. The final stage will be a quick conversation," he explained. "Shall we start with you?"
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He gestured toward the elf, who responded with a subtle nod. As she stepped forward to follow him, Thomas limped alongside them, the bolt still jutting from his leg. Jamie paused briefly next to him.
"Could you fetch a cleric?" Jamie asked, indicating the projectile embedded in his thigh.
"Of course," Thomas replied, concern etched on his face. He hastened off toward the town, leaving Jamie and the elf to proceed.
Suppressing a grimace of pain, Jamie led the way to Thomas's modest cottage. The interior was simple but welcoming, a small wooden table occupying the center of the main room. He lowered himself into a chair with a weary sigh.
The elf stood across from him, her posture straight and composed. Her emerald eyes surveyed him calmly, revealing little of her thoughts.
"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Jamie," he began, offering his hand with a friendly smile. "May I ask your name?"
"Camille," she replied softly, taking his hand in a gentle grip. Her skin was smooth and well-cared-for, yet he noticed the faint calluses on her fingertips.
‘From handling a bow or perhaps playing an instrument,’ Jamie surmised inwardly.
"Camille, what line of work are you currently in, and why do you wish to join the Golden Fiddle Company?" he asked, striving to keep his tone casual and inviting, careful not to make it feel like a formal interrogation.
"I work in entertainment," Camille replied evasively, her gaze flickering away as if to avoid further probing. "I'm looking for a better way to earn more money."
Jamie noticed that her answers were deliberately vague, perhaps concealing whom she worked for. The bard studied the elf's face, pondering how best to proceed. She maintained an impassive facade, her delicate features betraying no hint of emotion.
‘With just these answers, I can't accept her into the company,’ Jamie mused. ‘I could just reject her... or I could lay my cards on the table. Let's see where that leads.’
"By entertainment, do you mean for the Crimson Veil?" Jamie asked directly, his eyes locking onto hers. The question hung heavily in the air, signaling that he knew of her connection to the infamous establishment, though not which particular branch or group.
For the first time since their duel, a flicker of surprise crossed Camille's face. The elf parted her lips, then closed them again, seemingly at a loss for words.
"I don't much care about where you work or have worked," Jamie continued, his tone firm yet not unkind. "But I can't accept someone who isn't transparent about their situation or what they desire for the future."
Camille fell silent, her sapphire eyes searching his face. Uncertainty shadowed her features. After a moment, she asked quietly, "What I say here... will it remain between us?"
"Without a doubt," Jamie assured her.
She hesitated before speaking again. "Would you be willing to make a [Silence Vow]?"
"Silence Vow?" Jamie repeated, unfamiliar with the term.
Camille arched an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in her gaze. Just then, Jay, who had been observing atop a nearby shelf, decided to interject.
"A Silence Vow is a spell performed by wizards and witches," Jay explained, his tail swishing lazily. "It ensures that anything discussed between two people remains confidential. Should either party break the vow, the consequences are... fatal."
Jamie absorbed this information, recognizing the gravity of the commitment. He met Camille's eyes, seeing a mixture of caution and hope. "I understand," he said solemnly. "I accept."
Once Camille accepted, she lowered her head briefly. When she looked up again, her eyes, which had been a shade of green, were now completely blue. Delicate threads began to flow from her hands, gracefully winding around both her and Jamie's hands, binding them together.
"As long as this connection remains between us, everything spoken will be under the vow," Camille explained.
Jamie was momentarily surprised by the simplicity of the magic. He made a mental note. Quite useful. I need to learn how to use it.’
"Alright," he said. "Now, tell me about yourself."
Camille took a deep breath, a shadow of pain crossing her face. "I am an elf who was captured during the last war between the kingdoms," she began. "I was not included in the negotiations of the peace treaty and remained a captive of one of the barons of Hafenstadt. When he decided I was... broken, he handed me over to the Crimson Veil."
Jamie listened intently. "And what is it that you seek from the Golden Fiddle Company?"
"Freedom from the Crimson Veil," Camille replied, her voice steady. "And... a chance to obtain vengeance."
He gazed at her thoughtfully, pondering how to proceed. Before giving her a definitive answer, he wanted to understand more about who she was.
Jamie sighed. He had already used some spells but still had enough mana to use [Legends of the Future]. 'I don't need to see the boys' either; no need to be afraid of running out of it.'
As usual, the song's lyrics began to float in front of him.
A Black Widow, vengeance sworn,
Her old magic rips and torn.
Cross her path, beware the blast,
For her wrath is deep and vast!
"Vengeance, huh?" Jamie mused aloud. A faint smile touched his lips. "I can work with that." He extended his hand toward her.
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