The fourth day after accepting the guild's association began with unexpected visitors.
Elias woke to find Shade already alert, tendrils extended toward the door in defensive posture. Crimson had positioned itself above the entrance, geometric patterns sharp and ready. Before he could fully rise, a polite knock echoed through the tenement.
"Voidsinger Elias Veyrin?" A woman's voice, cultured and unfamiliar. "I'm here on behalf of the Crimson Guild. May I enter?"
Mira was already awake, crossbow in hand—she'd taken to sleeping armed since Caius's attack. Elias gestured for her to lower it, then called out: "The door's unlocked."
The woman who entered was perhaps forty, wearing the gray-and-red colors of guild administration rather than enforcement. She carried a leather satchel and moved with the careful confidence of someone accustomed to dangerous situations but not personally dangerous herself.
"My name is Lyra Vestrin. I'm the guild's logistics coordinator." She set the satchel on the table, seemingly unbothered by the six shadows watching her every movement. "Magistrate Verne sent me to discuss practical matters arising from your association contract."
"What kind of practical matters?"
Lyra pulled papers from the satchel with practiced efficiency. "First, compensation. The contract stipulates payment for your services—we need to establish method and schedule. Second, the medical support clause requires identifying appropriate practitioners who can treat shadow-binder injuries. Third, intelligence sharing means setting up secure communication protocols."
Elias hadn't expected implementation to begin so quickly. "I assumed we'd handle this when threats actually emerged."
"The guild prefers proactive preparation. Scrambling to establish procedures during crisis leads to mistakes." Lyra spread the papers across the table, revealing charts, schedules, and what looked like personnel files. "For compensation, we typically use guild credit certificates—redeemable at any member establishment. More flexible than coin, harder for enemies to steal."
"That's fine."
"How much do you require monthly for basic expenses? Housing, food, equipment maintenance?"
Elias had never thought about it in those terms. As a dockworker, he'd earned enough for rent and meals with little left over. Now... "I don't know. What's standard?"
"For associated specialists of your capability level?" Lyra consulted a chart. "Typically between fifty and eighty guild certificates monthly, with additional compensation per deployment. However, your contract is unique—you're not full guild personnel, so standard rates don't quite apply."
Mira leaned over the papers, her mismatched eyes scanning the numbers. "Fifty certificates would cover this tenement plus food and basic supplies with some left over. Eighty would allow saving for contingencies."
"Let's start at sixty," Elias decided. "With deployment compensation to be negotiated case by case depending on danger involved."
Lyra made a note. "Reasonable. Now, medical support. Shadow-binding creates unique injuries—psychic strain, essence depletion, corruption from mishandled bindings. We have three practitioners in Grimwald who specialize in treating such cases. I've brought their files for your review."
She laid out three folders. The first showed an elderly man with spectacles—Doctor Harvin, expert in psychic trauma. The second depicted a middle-aged woman covered in mystical tattoos—Madam Ysolde, specialist in essence work. The third was a young man with nervous eyes—Marcus Thenn, focused on corruption cleansing.
"I'd recommend establishing relationships with all three," Lyra advised. "Different injuries require different expertise."
"And they're all trustworthy? They won't report my condition to guild leadership or potential enemies?"
"They're bound by guild confidentiality agreements and personal codes of ethics. But nothing is absolutely secure." Lyra's expression was frank. "You're trusting us by accepting association. We're trusting you with resources and support. Mutual risk is part of partnership."
It was honest, at least. Elias studied the files, trying to assess which practitioners seemed most reliable. Finally, he nodded. "I'll meet with all three. See who I'm comfortable working with."
"Excellent. I'll arrange introductions." Lyra moved to the next topic. "Intelligence sharing. We need a method for secure communication when time-sensitive information arises. The guild typically uses courier networks, but given your unique capabilities, we wondered if your shadows could serve as messengers."
Elias considered. "Shade could carry written messages without being detected. Crimson could memorize information and relay it verbally through our connection. But I'd need to know the messages were legitimate, not forgeries designed to misdirect me."
"Authentication codes, changed weekly. I'll provide you with the current codes and update schedule." Lyra pulled another document from her satchel. "Additionally, we're establishing a guild liaison—someone who coordinates between you and leadership, handles logistics, answers questions. Would you prefer that liaison to be me, or someone else?"
"You seem competent."
"I'll take that as acceptance." A hint of amusement touched Lyra's professional demeanor. "I should warn you, Voidsinger—I'm very efficient. That means I'll notice if you're avoiding medical care, skipping scheduled check-ins, or otherwise failing to maintain yourself properly. The guild's investment in you includes ensuring you remain functional."
"Are you my liaison or my nursemaid?"
"Both, if necessary. You're nineteen, powerful, and dealing with forces that would overwhelm trained veterans. Someone needs to make sure you eat regularly and sleep occasionally."
Mira laughed outright. "I like her. Elias, you should definitely keep her as liaison."
Elias shot Mira an annoyed look, but couldn't quite suppress his own amusement. "Fine. Lyra is my official liaison. Happy?"
"Thrilled," Lyra said dryly. She began packing her papers back into the satchel. "I'll return tomorrow with the authentication codes, introduction schedules for the medical practitioners, and your first month's compensation. In the meantime, please review the contract's appendices—they detail dispute resolution procedures, emergency protocols, and termination clauses."
"Termination clauses?"
"Either party can end the association with thirty days' notice, provided no active crisis is underway. It's standard in all guild contracts. Ensures no one feels permanently trapped." She paused at the door. "Also, Magistrate Verne wanted me to inform you that the public announcement of your association will be distributed this evening. Expect increased attention starting tomorrow."
After she left, Mira shook her head with grudging respect. "She's terrifyingly organized."
"That's probably good. I'm not." Elias sat heavily, already feeling exhausted by the morning's administrative details. "I didn't realize association would involve so much... bureaucracy."
"That's what makes it functional instead of vague. The guild knows what it's doing." Mira started organizing the papers Lyra had left. "You should actually review these appendices. Understanding termination clauses and dispute procedures might matter if things go wrong."
She was right, but the thought of reading legal documentation made Elias's head ache. He'd gone from dockworker to shadow-binder to—what? Guild-associated specialist with compensation schedules and medical practitioners?
The Codex appeared in his hand, opening to a new page:
Power requires infrastructure. The shadow without foundation crumbles. You are learning that strength is not merely capability, but the systems that sustain capability. Boring, perhaps. Essential, certainly.
"Even the Codex is lecturing me about being practical," Elias muttered.
Practicality keeps you alive when power fails. Never underestimate the value of knowing who to call when injured, how to communicate securely, or where your next meal comes from.
The book closed itself primly, as if satisfied with delivering its lesson.
Training with Purpose
That afternoon, Elias focused on deliberate practice rather than general training. He'd identified specific weaknesses in his shadow coordination during the fight with Caius and worked systematically to address them.
Weakness one: divided attention when Hunger required restraint. Solution: practice maintaining commands for five shadows while consciously regulating the sixth.
He positioned his shadows in complex formations, then deliberately triggered Hunger's appetite by having it sense nearby memories. The shadow strained against its restraints, wanting to consume, while Elias forced himself to keep the other five shadows performing precise tasks.
It was brutally difficult. His concentration kept slipping, causing Shade to falter or Crimson to lose its positioning. But by the tenth repetition, he could maintain most of the formation while Hunger thrashed.
Weakness two: communication gaps between shadows during rapid engagement. Crimson often identified threats that Shade needed to intercept, but the information transfer was slow.
Elias worked on creating a kind of network—allowing the shadows to share information directly through his consciousness rather than requiring him to consciously relay it. Shade needed to feel what Crimson sensed without Elias serving as translator.
This proved even harder. It required him to open his connection to all six simultaneously, becoming less a commander and more a conduit. The sensation was disorienting—six different perspectives flooding his mind at once, six different priorities demanding attention.
But gradually, patterns emerged. Shade learned to anticipate Crimson's warnings. Ember began responding to Whisperfang's spatial awareness. Even Hunger contributed, its memory-sensing providing context that helped the others understand environments more fully.
By sunset, Elias was drenched in sweat and mentally exhausted, but progress had been real. His shadows moved with greater independence and coordination, requiring less conscious direction for basic tasks.
"You're getting better at this," Mira observed from where she sat reading the contract appendices. "They're almost moving like a single organism now."
"That's the goal. Six shadows acting as one entity, with me as the unifying consciousness." Elias accepted the water she offered. "But it's hard. Every shadow has its own nature, its own priorities. Making them work together is like trying to play six instruments simultaneously."
"You're mixing metaphors, but I understand the idea." She closed the document she'd been reading. "Speaking of working together—the Copper Street Collective wants to meet tomorrow. Something about coordinating their resistance activities like you requested."
Elias groaned. "More meetings. More paperwork."
"More being a functional partner instead of a lone warrior." Mira's tone was unsympathetic. "This is what you agreed to. The boring parts matter as much as the dramatic ones."
She was right, but that didn't make it less exhausting.
Evening Visitor
Just after dark, Tam arrived with surprising news.
"The dockworkers' union wants to meet with you," he said without preamble. "Not officially—the union can't be seen coordinating with shadow-binders, too much political risk. But unofficially, they want to understand your position on labor issues."
"Labor issues?" Elias blinked. "I don't have positions on labor issues."
"You do now. You're associated with the Crimson Guild, which has complicated relationships with various unions. The dockworkers want to know if that means you're taking the guild's side in disputes."
"I'm not taking anyone's side in labor disputes. That's not what the association is for."
"Good. That's what I told them. But they want to hear it from you." Tam's expression was serious. "Elias, you're becoming a political figure whether you want to or not. People are trying to figure out where you stand on everything. The more clearly you communicate your actual positions, the less others can twist your image for their purposes."
It was sound advice, but wearying to contemplate. Every decision, every association, every word was being analyzed and interpreted by dozens of different factions with different agendas.
"Fine. I'll meet with the union representatives. Make it clear I'm not involved in guild-labor disputes."
"Tomorrow evening work?"
"My schedule's apparently full, but sure. Add another meeting."
After Tam left, Elias sat by the window watching fog roll through Grimwald's streets. His six shadows arranged themselves in their preferred positions—Shade at his feet, Crimson overhead, Whisperfang in the corner, Ember by the cold fireplace, Hunger in darkness, and beneath them all, the subtle resonance of the Fifth growing stronger.
The Codex appeared unbidden in his lap:
Six days until Solnera's expected arrival. You spend these days in meetings, coordination, infrastructure building. This seems wasteful—should you not be training, binding, growing stronger?
But strength is not merely power. The binder who stands alone is the binder who falls alone. The binder who builds foundations—alliances, systems, communications—creates resilience that pure power cannot match.
You are learning to be more than powerful. You are learning to be sustainable. This is wisdom, though it feels tedious.
"Tedious wisdom," Elias muttered. "That should be the title of my autobiography."
If you survive to write one.
The book closed with what felt like dry amusement.
Elias looked at his shadows, each one a piece of power he'd claimed and integrated. Six bound, one approaching, ninety-three still waiting. The path ahead was long, complicated, and growing more so with every alliance and obligation.
But for the first time since finding the Codex, he wasn't just surviving moment to moment. He was building something—imperfect, complicated, sometimes boring, but sustainable.
Whether that would be enough to face what Solnera was bringing remained to be seen.
But at least he'd have infrastructure, compensation schedules, and medical practitioners when he found out.
"Progress," he told his shadows. "Weird, bureaucratic, tedious progress."
Shade pulsed agreement, and somehow that made everything feel just slightly more manageable.