Chapter I: Judgment.
He walks slowly. The atmosphere reeks of uncertainty. He approaches a large circle emitting light, cautiously examining it.
As he steps inside he feels suddenly uplifted. He takes a deep breath and looks around, trying to decipher something from the small silhouettes that can be seen staring around him. He feels their eyes trying to cut through his skin. Desperately scouring for answers in regards to his intentions.
He has proven worthy. He has accomplished a great deal in his life, but these past months have been exemplary. They took notice... they always do.
He stands quietly... waiting for his judge to come to him. He stretches his neck and cracks his knuckles by sporadically forming fists. He doesn't panic... he doesn't fear them. He has proven himself to them and though some still question his motives... they know his soul is a part of them... of it.
From the shadows a large hooded creature appears. The robe that shrouds him is dark... it's color barely understandable. He looks at it and marvels at how it looks like it's blood-red in a moment, then at second glance it looks blacker than the darkness that surrounds him.
He kneels before the judge as it begins its approach.
"You are born of flesh," the robed creature begins. "Blood flows trough you. It gives you life. It delivers you unto death. It defines who you are.
He rests his left hand on his head, revealing a large black ring tattooed on the top of his hand.
"You come to us worthy. You deliver yourself into the Circle. You have proven yourself mighty among those that are lower and you wield your power through chaos.
He puts his hand on his shoulder and Wesley stands up.
"The Circle embraces its new brother. Your blood is our blood. Your life is our life. A thorn rises from deep within the Earth."
He grabs Wesley's left hand and stabs it with a small, thin wooden stake. Wes cringes from the pain but remains otherwise calm. He can feel the Judge looking at him from inside his cloak. He releases Wesley's hand and takes a step back.
Wes falls to his knees grasping desperately at his hand. The wound closes slowly, burning a dark circle engrossed by thorns on the top of his hand. He bites his lower lip furiously as he looks at the mark on his hand.
He stands up a knee at a time, casually massaging his hand. He looks at the Judge as he steps towards him. He lifts his cloak from over his head, revealing Archduke Sebassis underneath.
"Welcome to the fold," he says with a discreet smirk on his lips.
Then, by cue, the lights turn on revealing a large Coliseum-like stadium with them standing right in the middle. Surrounding them are countless demons of almost every unimaginable kind.
They stand to their feet and raise their left-hands in salute to their new brother.
The Circle lives. It has embraced its new thorn.