Puck had delivered the letter precisely as instructed. He was cautious, as always, making sure no one was following him before he slipped into the headquarters of Veren & Sons, making sure no third eye was following him or his shadow. Unlike before, this time around, he had the mind to explore his surroundings. The compound where the building was located was quite large, capable of hosting multiple caravans worth of items, including a sprawling structure of weathered stone and timber, the same building he came to deliver a letter a few days ago. But, without being forced to be in a rush, he was now walking slowly, stopping when guards came to identify him. When he mentioned he had brought a letter, to his surprise, the people didn't try to take it from him or try to ascertain his words... it was as if they were expecting him and his letter, showing him in, without further questions.
The delivery itself was simple afterward—he managed to get the letter directly to Markus through one of his personal assistants, a particularly grumpy-looking woman who barely spared him a glance when the guards showed him in. Her sharp eyes and pinched mouth made it clear she had no patience for street urchins and was only entertaining him because of the order coming from Markus Veren himself... Which was fine because Puck didn't mind it at all. He was used to being invisible. Once the letter changed hands, Puck made himself scarce, not wanting to be caught in something if the merchants had a new idea, instead melting back into the labyrinth of streets. His work was done. Now, he was more interested in meeting up with Shade again to officially join his side...
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Markus Veren sat in his office, waiting for the arrival of the same kid who came here first and who, in the end, did not disappoint him in the slightest. He instructed the guards that if someone entered the premises, don't bar them; instead, ask, and if they say they bring a letter, make sure that the message gets to him as soon as possible.
Thankfully, he didn't need to wait for long, and the letter now rested on the polished surface of his desk. He had already read it two times, going over it slowly and meticulously, raising it against the incoming sunlight to see if there was anything unique about it, but... no. It was just a simple parchment that anybody could get their hands on at any part of the city. The ink? It was also the most common variant, and the handwriting was that of a commoner. Nothing was telling him anything noteworthy, which made him smile, as he expected nothing less from someone dealing with information. Blending in perfectly with the average...
Reaching for it, he once again turned the letter over in his hands, his fingers brushing against the broken wax seal—another regular point, just a simple, unmarked circle.
At first, after breaking it, he unfolded the parchment and scanned the contents, maybe in a bit too much of a hurry, but if there were any clues there, he couldn't see it. His eyes moved over its contents once again, smiling, feeling young again as he read that this 'Shade' wanted to meet. Alone. Which he didn't fault him for.
Thinking, he leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking softly under his weight, hearing as the door opened, his brother walking in, looking at the letter without saying anything. With a nod from Markus, Willem reached for it, sitting down across from him and beginning to read it. The moment he finished, he threw it back on the table, sitting with arms crossed, his expression a mixture of frustration and concern, his face nowadays perpetually set in a scowl that made him look older than he actually was.
"This is a bad idea," Willem grumbled again, his voice annoyed. "We don't even know who this guy really is. We got our shipment back, sure, but that doesn't mean we owe him anything. What if this is some kind of setup? Coming to get into our, your good graces, then to kill you or kidnap you? I may be good at organizing the guards, Rellen may be good at gathering intel and hiring people, and Edvin may be good at numbers... But you are the linchpin of this organization, Markus."
"Thank you," Markus chuckled, his voice being warm and confident. "But I don't think it is dangerous. If it was a setup, don't you think he'd ask for something a little riskier? The place he signaled is not somewhere you would stage anything dangerous. My instincts tell me that the place is more of a protection for him, against us, than anything. All he wants is a conversation. And besides, it's not like I'm going in unarmed."
"You are a mule... you know that, don't you?" Willem groaned, running a hand through his unruly hair. "That's not the point! You don't walk into meetings with unknown criminals alone."
"I do if it's worth it."
"Markus!" Willem snorted while he clenched his jaw, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "And how exactly do you know it's worth it?"
"By all that happened to us? We were saved, little brother!" Markus tapped the letter, his voice rising a little, "Because this Shade didn't have to return that shipment, yet he did. That tells me something about him."
"Yeah, yeah, I heard it... He's smart, blah, blah, blah."
"But more importantly," Markus continued, ignoring Willem, "he has an agenda. That's the key point here... And if I play my cards right, his agenda might just benefit us."
"You already decided!" Willem shrugged while he threw his hands up in exasperation. "Fine! But at least let me have a few guys posted nearby—just in case."
"No..." Markus shook his head, his expression firm. "No. The letter said alone, and I intend to keep my word. One of a prosperous merchant's main goals is to be trustworthy. Otherwise, nobody will be willing to do trade with us."
"You are hopeless... you know, don't you?" Willem cursed under his breath, his voice barely audible. "Stubborn bastard."
"That's why I lead this group!" Markus laughed, the sound of his voice rich and full of refreshed vigor, "You'll thank me when this pays off."
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The tavern that Shade designated as their meeting spot was dimly lit when he arrived, right in the middle when the day was transitioning into the night, people just about to light the lamps and candles in their windows. The air was thick with the scent of cheap ale, freshly roasted meat, and the strong scent of sub-par leaves being ignited within the current guests' pipes. Markus, of course, entered without hesitation, his eyes scanning the room, but he only saw people from the lower class of the city. Patrons from a mix of street merchants, hard laborers, and the occasional shady figure nursing a drink in the corner. The type he grew up amongst before managing to break out and now even work for nobles... With one breath, he walked to the table, said in the letter, sinking down, glad that he came dressed appropriately, blending in so no one paid him much attention, which was precisely how he liked it.
As required, he took his seat while he ordered a drink—a dark ale that arrived in a chipped mug—and waited. Now, it was up to Shade to make his move...
He didn't have to wait long.
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From my place in the tavern, I watched as Lira stood up from the table we designated as Markus's spot in our letter, signaling that she noticed him arriving from the window. Preparing, I waited until he sat down before also standing up, switching places with Lira, and sinking down at the open seat right behind Markus, speaking in a low and measured tone.
"You came."
As expected, Markus kept his composure, his lips curling slightly in amusement.
"And you're punctual. I appreciate that."
Speaking, I knew that he didn't turn around. The setup was clear—Masquerading as Shade, I sat at the table directly behind him, our backs almost touching. A careful arrangement was made to prevent direct eye contact, keeping the mystery intact, and he wasn't trying to break that illusion. Good.
"I must admit," Markus continued, taking a slow sip of his drink, "you've got my attention. When you returned that shipment, you saved my company from disaster."
"I did?" I asked myself, but as Shade, I remained silent for a moment before speaking, keeping my voice calm and controlled. "Happy to help."
"Me too." Markus chuckled, the sound low and rich. "But I don't think you understand how important it was for us, or you would have asked for more."
"Maybe," I said, now truly curious and a bit nervous if we made a mistake or not. "Maybe I wasn't after money."
"True... But, you see, that shipment? It was for Lord Halbrecht. If we had failed to deliver, we'd be finished. He would've pulled his contracts and spread the word that we weren't reliable. The damage to our reputation would've been irreversible."
Damn. But why tell me this? Is he fishing for information? Does he want to hear my reaction? It could be... anyway; I remained expressionless, but inwardly, I was processing this new revelation as fast as I could. So... I accidentally saved their entire business? Asking for two hundred golds to preserve the whole organization. Huh...
I really undersold myself here…
"Anyway," Markus continued, his tone thoughtful. "I suppose I should thank you once again. Though I have to wonder—was this your plan all along?"
"Yes," I answered, and it didn't miss a beat, my voice remaining nonchalant. "Naturally." While I wanted to say no, fuck... of course not!
"I believe you." Markus exhaled a quiet laugh, the sound tinged with admiration. "Figured as much. Someone like you wouldn't act without purpose."
Someone like me? To prevent myself from blurting it out, I took a slow sip of my drink to buy myself time. Alright, just play along. Make it seem like this was all part of the grand plan.
"I take it you want something from me?" Markus pressed, his tone casual but probing.
"As most people who are in my position." I nodded slightly. "I know you already had multiple guesses, and some of them are right. I am thinking about establishing myself here. For that... I need a reliable network, one that understands discretion."
"You need allies," Markus smirked, his fingers drumming lightly against the table. "Are you an information broker, then?"
"You could put it that way if you want."
"..." There was a short pause. Markus mulled it over, then leaned back in his chair, his voice thoughtful. "That could be useful. A man with the right information at the right time? That's worth more than gold."
"It could be priceless." I allowed myself a slight chuckle. "Of course, it is only good if it is free of bias."
"Also true..." Markus tapped his fingers against the table, the rhythm slow and deliberate, representing his thought process. "Then let me offer you something. We have a property—an old warehouse in the lower quarter. We don't use it much. If you're looking to set up something more permanent, it could serve as a decent base. Think of it as my proper payment for your help. I can transfer it over... anytime."
Despite myself, I was caught off guard by the offer. I had anticipated a possible deal, maybe a favor in exchange for future services, but an actual base of operations? That was beyond what I had expected. I almost accepted it out of the blue, but that would be... too much. I had to keep it professional, so I gulped back my excitement.
"Generous."
"I am a fair man." Markus chuckled, "And I like investing early. If you're planning to grow, having the right allies will make all the difference."
Having a secure location would be a massive advantage. But accepting too soon would make me seem overeager, and I needed to maintain an air of control. Not to mention, it would also mean he would know where my base is. Of course, in the future, people will need a place where they can find us... And they don't need to know that my front-facing location is also my main base. At least it would be my main base until I can afford to get an actual hidden spot.
"I will get back to you with my answer," I said as I stood up. "My young friend will be in touch."
"He is welcome any time." Markus grinned, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "I look forward to it."
Without another word, I disappeared out into the streets, leaving Markus alone with his drink, a satisfied smirk still on his face... not knowing that Lira stayed behind to keep a lookout, making sure that nobody followed me.