"And what about you?" she asked. "Which faction do you belong to?"
Giorlanio openly scanned Nephis, a self-confident smile settling on his face as his thumb gently stroked the wooden cross hanging from his neck. The gesture was slow, almost reverent.
"Me?" he said lightly. "Well, I don't belong to any official 'faction,' so to speak."
"But you do belong to something," Nephis pressed, her gaze steady and unblinking. Every part of her demeanor radiated blunt insistence.
Giorlanio's smile tightened. Behind him, the guards shifted their footing, leather creaking softly, though none of them reached for their weapons.
"Yes," he admitted after a pause. "I do associate with a group, if that is what you are asking." He drew in a breath, then continued carefully. "We are… something of a self-help collective. A place for those who have nowhere else to go, or for those who feel their skills are undervalued. People join us to improve themselves, to find purpose."
He spread his hands slightly. "We also provide charity. Aid for those in dire need—food, medicine, even paying the Castle entry fee when necessary. And before you ask, we demand nothing in return. Donations or assistance are always welcome, of course, but only within one's sustainable limits."
Sunny wasn't the only one who felt a deep sense of incongruity settle in his gut. A group like that sounded less like something born in the hellscape of the Forgotten Shore and more like a social program from the Waking World. It felt misplaced—too clean, too orderly for a land ruled by desperation and scarcity.
Cassie voiced the doubt that hung unspoken between them.
"Does such a group really exist?" she asked, her brow furrowing.
At her question, Giorlanio laughed and lifted the cross around his neck. "See this? This is the mark—"
He froze mid-sentence, realization dawning a heartbeat too late. The air grew awkwardly still as silence fell between them, thick and uncomfortable. Neither side seemed quite sure how to proceed.
Then Cassie spoke again, her tone calm and unoffended. "It's alright. I understand how difficult it can be to explain things to someone without eyes. Please, continue."
Giorlanio coughed into his fist, clearly relieved, and nodded. "Yes. Well… every member of our group wears a wooden cross to symbolize their membership. If you remain here for any length of time, you'll certainly see more of us. We have around twenty members inside the Castle itself, and another fifty living out here in the Outer Settlement."
"And the white robe?" Sunny asked, unable to keep the curiosity from his voice.
"Ah." Giorlanio glanced down at himself. "That is simply something some of us wear to emulate our leader. He dresses the same way, and, frankly, it's quite stylish. We commissioned a few Artisans to make replicas. Adam doesn't mind."
"Adam," Nephis said, her voice clipped and precise. "Your leader?"
Giorlanio nodded. "Yes. Our leader—and the Forgotten Shore's unofficial Fifth Lieutenant."
Sunny's eyes narrowed slightly.
"In an official capacity," Giorlanio continued, "he serves as the Bright Lord's aide. Essentially an assistant, handling minor affairs and administrative matters on Gunlaug's behalf."
Sunny sensed that Giorlanio had relaxed after all that talking. It was almost impressive—what a prolonged, civil conversation could do to lower a person's guard. Feeling that the moment was right, Sunny decided to press on the one detail the man had conspicuously avoided earlier.
"By the way," he said casually, "who did you say the leader of the Guards was? I didn't quite catch it."
Giorlanio's smile dimmed at once. The change was subtle, but unmistakable. Still, to his credit, he maintained his composure, keeping his expression open and polite. Watching him, Sunny was reminded of the scammers and confidence men who sometimes appeared in the Outskirts—people who survived by smiling through discomfort and danger alike. Giorlanio's self-control rivaled theirs.
For a few seconds, he seemed unwilling to answer. However, being scrutinized by three people—one of whom was blind, yet somehow felt the most piercing—eventually cracked his defenses.
"The former leader of the Guards was Tessai," Giorlanio said at last. "But he was killed. His replacement is Sasrir." He hesitated, then added, "Sasrir is also Adam's confidant. His right-hand man."
His tone grew grave. "Take my advice: don't fight him. Don't provoke him. Don't cross him in any way. He has killed more than a dozen of his own people for disobedience, and he is always one bad day away from spilling blood. Only Adam can control him. Even Gunlaug and Harus find him impossible to rein in."
"Harus?" Nephis repeated, immediately catching onto the unfamiliar name.
Giorlanio blinked. "Ah. Right. I suppose I forgot to mention him. Harus is the Bright Lord's executioner and his most trusted lieutenant—ranked above the other four. However, since he does not lead a faction of his own, most people do not count him among them. Before Sasrir appeared, Harus was widely considered the most terrifying and lethal Sleeper on the Forgotten Shore. Not necessarily the strongest, but the deadliest."
He exhaled softly. "Now, though, the Reaper has taken that distinction. At least in the stories people tell."
"And you're saying only Adam can control him?" Sunny asked, openly skeptical. "No offense, but how does that even work? Is Adam stronger than Sasrir?"
This time, Giorlanio did not seem reluctant to answer.
"No one knows," he said simply. "Adam and Sasrir arrived together one day, and they have been inseparable ever since. Whatever Adam tells him to do, Sasrir does. Without question."
Lowering his voice, Giorlanio leaned closer. "Keep this to yourselves, but the real reason Gunlaug made Adam his assistant is because he is terrified of Sasrir. Adam is a leash. A very delicate one."
The revelation stirred complex emotions in both Sunny and Nephis. Cassie, however, remained silent, her expression unreadable.
Nephis was the first to speak. "And how do the other lieutenants feel about this arrangement?"
"Harus and Aiko are indifferent," Giorlanio replied. "Adam and Sasrir were Hunters originally, so their relationship with Gemma remains close enough. As for Seishan…" He hesitated, then smiled thinly. "There are rumors that she and Adam are involved. They appear quite close."
Sunny raised an eyebrow. "I'm no expert on religion," he said, "but aren't priests supposed to avoid relationships? Or at least marriage?"
Giorlanio coughed and waved his hand dismissively, as though brushing the concern aside. "Adam is not an ordained priest. He was raised in a religious institution, but never formally inducted. He is… flexible when it comes to ritual and doctrine. He follows a moral code more than scripture."
"Can you even call that religious?" Cassie asked quietly, doubt lacing her words.
Giorlanio hesitated, then deflected. "We all believe in the Lord," he said vaguely. Before any of them could press further, he straightened and took a step back.
"I must return to the Castle now," he said, regaining his earlier politeness. "I wish you a pleasant day—and a tolerable stay in the Forgotten Shore. God bless, strangers."