Commerce Emperor - Chapter 0: Prologue: The Merchant Hero

When I was ten, I once asked a spice merchant why people would trade silver for a powder fit only for sweetening food. He’d answered: son, true power lies not in wealth, but in what it can afford you.

His words had stuck with me for the rest of my life… though I only understood their true significance when I became the Merchant.

I never planned for it. Who could have? The night started normally enough. The House of Gold buzzed with flashing lights and the ring of arrow wheels. I sat at the bar while Mersie served red wines to other guests. Hardcore gamblers and hanger-ons flocked to dice game tables; card players sweated as ever-higher mountains of coins grew between them; courtesans in feathered dresses held wealthy patrons by the arm and distracted them with pleasant conversations and their scandalously exposed cleavages.

I loved the heady blend of greed, excitement, desperation and tension that permeated this place.

The House of Gold, as the oldest and most prestigious gambling house in the Riverland Federation, was open to all. The Merchant who had given the city its name used it to play games with his fellow heroes over two hundred years ago.

In practice though, the casino’s dress code and high-stakes barred the less fortunate from attending. Everyone in the gambling house needed to wear a well-crafted mask, a hat and a doublet; an ensemble that could cost more than a commoner’s yearly salary. I couldn’t afford one when I first started to frequent this establishment. I had to borrow my clothes and fox-mask, and I would have to return them by the evening with a bag full of coins.

I didn’t care much. I wasn’t a noble. I was a chameleon on the hunt.

My interest wasn’t only in card tables or spinning wheels, no no no. I took note of every player, every kiss, every laugh. I waited without a word as alcohol and the thrill of victory untied tongues all around me. So many knew how to speak, but so few learned how to listen.

Of course, I also followed the games now and then. I marveled at watching the Arcane Arrows in action. These machines, the invention of an eccentric witchcrafter in the Duke’s employ, took the shape of wheels spinning on their own thanks to magical infusions. It was a waste of good essence in my humble opinion, but the city’s nobles had taken a fancy to this game. They were addicted to it.

Out of the five Arcane Arrows machines in the House of Gold, one in particular captured my full attention; the one north-west of the bar, right next to the stairs leading to the gladiator arena in the basement. A player with a crow mask had bet twenty silver coins, the maximum amount allowed, on four different numbers.

Five…I counted each time the man played with the maximum amount allowed. From his frustrated expression, he wasn’t making any gain. Four… Three…The man cursed as he kept betting money. I wondered how many peasants had worked themselves to the bone so their master could justify this waste. Nobles didn’t understand the value of money; after all, they never worked to earn their wealth.

Two, I thought to myself. One more to go. Please walk away now… I don’t want to get distracted and lose count.

The player sat in front of the wheel for an agonizing minute as he considered whether to walk away or keep pushing in an attempt to recoup his losses. In the end, he cursed the Earthcoin for his rotten luck and walked away with an empty purse.

I felt a little sorry for him. If only he had known that he was two moves away from breaking even and more.

I rose from my seat and swiftly took the man’s place before anybody else could claim the Arcane Arrows wheel for themselves. The croupier, Andreotto, greeted me with a bright smile. “Mr. Fox, are you feeling lucky tonight?”

“I always feel lucky,” I lied. I didn’t believe in luck. I believed in preparation, opportunities, kind words, and the occasional threat of extreme violence. “Have you perchance seen my good friend Mr. Wolf?”

“Yes, of course,” he replied as I bet ten silver on the twenty and another ten on the thirteen. “He is below, playing wife and husband with the Lady Swan.”

“Good for him,” I said as I discreetly slipped Andreotto a golden coin without anyone noticing.

I paid half the staff in this establishment for nuggets of information. Croupiers, whores, pages… It was astonishing how careless rich people could act in the presence of commoners paid a meager wage.

Of course, other nobles paid them for the same service. I’d always been careful to outbid them. Knowing who was paying the staff to spy on whom held almost as much value to me as any other information.

The Arcane Arrows game allowed me to bet on any combination of thirty-six numbers. A ball would be sent into the spinning wheel and land on one of them; if I bet everything on a single number and guessed the winner, I could multiply my bet by ten. Additionally, four arrows representing the Artifacts pointed at the cardinal direction. If the winning number stopped on one of them, my multiplier would be increased to one hundred. I once calculated that I had more chances of being struck by lightning than hitting this particular scenario under normal circumstances.

Thankfully, I knew how to hedge my bets.

My first play was a bust as expected; I considered it the cost of doing business. “Better luck next time,” the croupier pitied me as the ball landed on number four. “I wouldn’t give up yet though. What the Earthcoin takes, it gives away tenfold.”

“That’s the spirit.” I bet twenty silver on the twelve. “Here we go.”

“Ah, the twelve,” Andreotto noted. “You sir do have a devil’s luck with this one.”

He was starting to notice my trick. Damn it. I always worried the staff might have corrected the machine’s flaw in my absence.

I held my breath as the ball spun along the wheel. My heart pounded in my chest when it landed on the twelve, and I exhaled in relief when it finally stopped right in front of the Earthcoin’s designated arrow. The sound of a bell rang joyfully, and I suppressed a grin as the croupier applauded me.

“Congratulations, Mr. Fox.” The croupier filled my purse as other players applauded my victory. I answered them with a courteous nod and took my purse and smiled when my twenty silver coins grew a hundredfold. “Don’t come back soon, or you’ll run out of business!”

“The night is only getting started,” I replied coyly. I would have to lose half of that so the staff wouldn’t suspect anything, but I would still walk out with a nice profit.

I decided that my next step would be the gladiator ring in the basement. Nobles loved to discuss backroom deals while watching the poor fight each other. But first, I craved tea. Since the Shinkokan Empire put an embargo on Seukaian naval trade, the House of Gold was the only place where a man such as me could buy their tea.

I returned to the bar and asked for a cup. Mersie, the barmaid, took my order as a man twice my age sat at my left. I immediately sensed he wanted something from me, so I observed him from the corner of my eye. The difference in social standing between us couldn’t be starker. His gold-laced lion mask and silky clothes contrasted greatly with my elegant but simple fox mask and black doublet. The gemstone rings on his fingers glittered under the casino’s magical lights, and he smelled of perfume.

Of course, I knew who was hiding under that mask. I knew everyone’s true name.

Mersie returned to serve us both: me a tea cup, and him a glass of red wine. “Here you go, Mr. Fox,” she said with a friendly grin. Mersie was a lovely blonde near my age with sapphire eyes, so watching her smile never failed to lighten my day. “I see you’ve won at the Arcane Arrows again.”

“The Earthcoin is just smiling on me tonight.” I sipped my tea and frowned in disgust. “What’s wrong with it? It looks like poison and it tastes like it.”

“It’s imperial tea.” Mersie chuckled at my distaste. “I’m sorry, the Duke had our usual stock recalled for his personal consumption.”

“This is betrayal,” I grumbled. I paid the staff a fortune to keep me informed of any tidbit of information, and they omitted such an important detail? A tea cup cost a silver in this establishment. A silver. This kind of cruelty was why I didn’t feel guilty about robbing the House right under their nose. “Betrayal, I say.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Fox, I didn’t have time to inform you,” Mersie apologized before being called again for another order. “I’ll be right back.”

The man on my left spoke to me the moment Mersie left. “A charming girl, wouldn’t you agree?”

“You don’t know half of it,” I replied evasively. She was so charming that a baron had taken her for a mistress and visited her whenever his wife bored him too much. “I’m quite fond of her.”

“I see,” he said, before quickly changing the subject. “I’ve been observing you.”

I knew this day would come. I pretended not to notice him and sipped my terrible tea. I’d learned most people feared silence. They always felt the need to fill it with blabbering and the occasionally useful personal details.

“You’re an odd one,” the lion-mask man said. “You sit at the bar for a while, play the Arcane Arrows, then jump from one game to another. You’re terrible at gladiator bets, middling at card games, but somehow you usually leave the establishment with more money than you started with.”

I rubbed my fingers together. “How much?”

“For what?”

“My secret,” I replied with a chuckle. “That’s why you’re here, no? If I teach it to you, you’ll become a competitor. Not to mention the risks of the staff noticing my trick.”

“So you do have a trick.” The man’s eyes smiled more than his mouth did. He was happy to have his suspicions confirmed. I expected him to make me a poor offer and he did. “How about… ten gold?”

I scoffed. “I make eighty gold coins a night on average thanks to my secret technique. You would need at least two-hundred to make it worth my while.”

His smile faltered. “One hundred and a half.”

I stared straight into his eyes. “Three-hundred.”

My answer took him aback. The basic rules of haggling demanded that you negotiate lower than your initial price. By upping the ante, I had thrown him off his game.

“That’s more than before,” the gambler said with a scowl.

“I don’t like people trying to shortchange me,” I replied coldly. “It’s your fault for not taking a good deal when you had the opportunity.”

“Two-hundred gold,” he said with a noticeably harsher tone than earlier. I noticed Mersie staring at us from afar, half-expecting a fight to break out. “And I don’t turn you in.”

“Already going for the jugular, Mr. Lionardo?” I smirked fearlessly. He recoiled at the mention of his true name as if I had slapped him in the face. “Go ahead. Sure I’ll pay dearly… but if you do that, I’ll have to tell the management my secret. They’ll take countermeasures and you won’t get to exploit the flaw I’ve found. You’ll lose out on a mountain of gold.”

The gambler observed me with a hawk’s concentration. His eyes looked for any body language hint, any telltale suggesting a bluff. I wasn’t kidding. My trick had worked longer than I expected, so I played each night as if it were my last.

“I’ve never mentioned my name in this fine establishment,” he said, his tone sharp as steel. Good. People respected you more when you unsettled them. “How do you know it?”

“You’re smart, figure it out,” I replied. “The real question is: can you afford my price?”

“How old are you?” he asked me out of the blue. “I can’t see beyond your mask, yet you sound terribly young.”

“Twenty-five,” I lied. I was twenty-two.

“Twenty-five and already greedier than a dragon? You’ve got a bright future ahead of you.” The gambler put a hand in his suit’s back pocket and tossed me a purse. “Fine. Three hundred gold it is.”

I slowly took the purse and counted the coins. Once I confirmed he had indeed paid me due, I jerked a thumb at my secret. “You see that Arcane Arrows machine? The one near the stairs?”

His jaw tightened. “Yes?”

“It’s faulty,” I explained to him. “I think the essence smiths messed up the animation spells. Once you play fifty-seven games with a twenty silver investment, the fifty-eighth attempts always land on an Earthcoin-twelve combination. Always. The staff doesn’t notice because the trick doesn’t work when you play with any other investment. So all you have to do is count how many times people play twenty, then swoop in when they’re close to the fifty-eight mark. You’ll win two thousand silver for free.”

“How did you notice that?” the man asked me in disbelief.

“Observation,” I replied with a chuckle. Andreotto’s predecessor had informed me that one of the machines appeared to lose money more often than usual. Having always been interested in witchcrafting—even though I lacked the gift—it aroused my curiosity. Afterwards, I simply took notes until I figured out the flaw.

“Impressive.” The gambler nodded sharply and then rose from his seat to check if I’d told him the truth. “What’s your name? Your accent sounds Archfrostian.”

“Exchanging names is forbidden among guests.”

“You called me by mine and yet refuse to give yours? You are a sensible lad.” The lion-faced man searched inside his pocket and swiftly tossed me a silver token. “Show this to my guards if you ever want to play with the big boys. I will remember you.”

I thanked him and watched him leave for the Arcane Arrows. As I suspected, the lion symbol on the token identified him as a member of the Lionardo family; a group of well-respected bankers who liked to cover their bets with their clients’ money.

Mersie, who had been observing our interaction from afar, rejoined me with a grin all over her face. “Nice work.”

“Thank you,” I replied. I took her reaction as a very good sign.

“Did you tell him the truth though?” she asked me out of curiosity. “Was that truly your secret technique?”

“What kind of person takes a client’s money and doesn’t deliver on his end of the bargain?” What was a man without principles? Nothing at all. I was willing to spy and lie and kill, but nobody would ever fault me for poor service. “If you don’t intend to keep your word, then don’t give it.”

Besides, I would benefit more in the long-term. That nobleman was a true gambler; the kind that didn’t play out of greed or for the love of the game, but out of vanity. These people spent more time discussing gambling strategies than playing because they were motivated by a deeper need. They wanted to prove that the House didn’t always win; that there was a secret technique, some foolproof secret that guaranteed victory in violation of all probabilities. They were, after all, smarter than everyone else. There had to be a pattern, a hidden meaning, that eluded common mortals.

Of course, these gamblers were kidding themselves. There was no pattern, only odds. Not that it mattered. Beliefs had the nasty tendency of surviving even in the face of foolproof evidence.

This delusional confidence was why a man was willing to pay three-hundred gold without considering that if he had noticed my peculiar behavior, then the staff surely did too. It was only a matter of days before the House’s owners recalled the faulty Arcane Arrows machine for inspection. I suspected they would do it sooner than it would take for my client to recoup his investment… while I would walk away with a large payout.

But for one night, he would beat the house at its own game. That experience was his real purchase.

“In any case, I believe I’m done for the night,” I said as I put my money away. “What will you do after your shift?”

“I’ll go home,” Mersie replied.

“Alone?”

My brazen suggestion made her laugh. “You know I am meeting someone.”

“Who is cheating on his wife,” I pointed out. “It’s not like you would be betraying him by broadening your horizon… especially since I was there first.”

“I do not think he would see it that way if he were to catch us in the act.” She gave me the coyest of smiles. “Unless you are willing to keep Sforza off my back in his stead?”

Of course. It was always about Sforza. “That can be arranged.”

Mersie gave me a blank, impenetrable look. She had always been so good at keeping her thoughts to herself. “Today is the day, is it not?” she guessed. “You’re skipping town at last.”

“Yes.” And I would deal with Sforza on my way out. “Will you come with me?”

I expected Mersie to answer no, but to my surprise, she seemed to entertain the idea. “Where are you going?”

“Snowdrift.” Mersie nodded at my answer. She had guessed as much. I had never made a mystery of my father’s deathbed last request. “Then who knows? It’s a big world, and I’ve got bigger plans.”

“You’re too big for this town for sure.” Mersie smiled, though I immediately knew she would deny me. “Not now. There’s still something I must do before I can leave this place.”

“I can’t afford to delay,” I warned her. The risk of ending up bleeding in a gutter if I lingered in the city was simply too great.

“I know, but if you’re still in Snowdrift by the time I’m finished, I’ll pay you a visit.” She chuckled. “If you don’t get yourself neck deep into trouble again, that is.”

How could you aspire to become an entrepreneur and not be a troublemaker? Disrupting expectations was half the job’s description. “You’re breaking my heart, Mersie,” I said jokingly before tossing her ten gold coins. “Now I must piece it back up over a gladiator match.”

She blinked upon seeing the coin. “What’s this?”

“My payment for the drink and your long friendship,” I replied. “I don’t think I’ll return to this establishment in the near future, so consider it one last tip.”

“You gave me ten gold.” Mersie waved a coin at me with a grim face. “Ten gold. I can’t accept it.”

I shrugged. “You can and you will.”

“I don’t want pity money,” she protested.

“It’s not pity money, it’s your cut,” I countered. Maybe she would be better predisposed if I presented it as a reward for service rendered? “I wouldn’t have been able to set up my little operation if you hadn’t given me inside information. And if you don’t want the money, you can always give it away to someone else who needs it more. The Earthcoin knows there’s no shortage of them.”

In truth, I liked Mersie. We went all the way back from the orphanage and we had been far more than friends once. I wanted to see her succeed and not rely on another rotten noble for material comfort.

My argument seemed to do the trick. After a short moment of hesitation, Mersie graciously accepted the payment and folded it in her pocket. “Thank you, Robin.”

“Shush,” I chided her. “No name.”

“Sorry,” she replied with a bright smile. “Thank you, Mr. Fox.”

You couldn’t put a price on a smile.

With my work done for the night, I exchanged my silver coins for golden ones–the rate was twenty-five to one nowadays–and then made a stop by the toilets.

There I brought out my secret weapon: a small vial of white powder I had purchased from a traveling alchemist. Tasteless and almost invisible, I had tested it on rats to great success. I coated one of the coins in the poison, put them all in my purse, and threw the vial down the chamber pot. My trap was set.

I left the House of Gold with full pockets but short of a date. Quite sad, since I was the kind of guy who needed a woman in his life to be fully happy. I had been growing restless since my last girlfriend and I broke off. I had hoped Mersie and I could perhaps get back together.

Maybe it was for the better though. Mersie always appeared to keep her emotions close to her chest when we dated. I knew better than to pry for personal details as a fellow orphan, but she struck me as a woman struggling with a past trauma to overcome. I hoped she would find a better confidante than me.

I already felt eyes on me when I stepped into the cobblestone alleyways of the city of Ermeline. The air smelled of piss and booze so late into the night. The ground was still wet from light rain. In spite of the clouds in the sky, dozens of citizens had gathered in front of the opera house to listen to a sermon; the city guards wouldn’t let them approach any closer to the House of Gold.

“Doomsday is upon us!” A fiery barefoot priest in white robes addressed the crowd. At his side stood an intimidating, armored inquisitor with a halberd tall enough to cut a man in half. The symbol of the Arcane Abbey–a chalice, a sword, a wand and a coin assembled in a losange formation–glittered on his chest under the light of a dozen torches. “The Four Artifacts are furious! The goddess shaped the world, but we have rewarded her good work with scorn and rot! This city’s rulers sleep on golden beds while the poor die of hunger! Shame! Shame!”

The crowd echoed his wrath with shouts and screams of anger. I removed my mask and stuck to the shadows, observing the scene from afar. Among the citizens were beggars, cobblers, bakers’ sons and brick-makers. Their famished faces betrayed their hunger. The price of bread was only increasing since the Duke raised the taxes again, and the city’s downtrodden could hardly afford it.

“The Demon Ancestors have risen again to punish our sins!” the priest shouted. “The Lord of Wrath is bathing in the blood of knights! The Shadow of Envy stalks the night, and the wicked nobles of this city worship the Devil of Greed with their ill-gotten coins! Hear the words of the Arcane Abbey! If the Federation’s faith falters, then the Beast of Sloth will escape to eat your children, and your children’s children!”

Two hooded men approached me. I didn’t fail to notice the daggers at their belts. “This way,” one of them said, pointing to a stone arch at the mouth of a back alley. “Sforza awaits you.”

As always, my boss had come to take his cut in person.

Thief-Taker General Giacomo Sforza awaited me in the alley with two more of his men. A bulky man with a balding head and keen gray eyes, his face was covered in reddish spots from an illness he had caught from a whore. He had taken to wearing plate armor lately, as it helped sell his image of a paragon of law and order. No other man had imprisoned half as many thieves as him.

Of course, few knew that Sforza was so good at catching criminals because he was one. Through violence and legal methods, he had steadily achieved dominance over Ermeline’s underworld by eliminating all rival gangs. Half the city’s garrison was on his payroll and the other half closed their eyes so long as he didn’t disturb commerce.

“Ah, Robin.” Sforza greeted me with a smile that showcased his sharp teeth. He flipped a golden coin with a skull symbol for a face; his lucky charm. “Good thing we caught you now. These fanatics are bound to start a riot anytime soon.”

“Shouldn’t they?” I asked mirthfully. “Is it true that the Demon Ancestors have risen from their graves?”

Sforza shrugged. “I’ve heard as much… but the world is still standing, isn’t it? If the Demon Ancestors have truly escaped, then methink the Abbey exaggerated their diabolical prowesses.”

His men searched my body for coins, since Sforza never fully trusted anyone. Thankfully I managed to keep a few off their greedy hands.

“Three-hundred and fifty gold?” he whistled. His eyes burned with the fires of avarice. “Very impressive. That’s your best night yet.”

“I don’t think I’ll earn much from now on,” I replied. “My secret is out.”

“I would send you in even at a loss,” Sforza replied. The secrets I brought him were far more valuable than gold. “Anything to report?”

“I can confirm that Baroness Viridis and the Count de Malatesta are indeed having an affair,” I said. Andreotto had heard them making love in one of the House of Gold’s private back rooms more than once. “Her youngest son was fathered by him and not her husband.”

Sforza’s men laughed cruelly at the news, though their boss only smirked. “And they call us crooks? Very interesting. Baron Viridis will need a new wife once he gets rid of the old, unfaithful one.”

“He’ll never make this information public,” I pointed out. “It would destroy his reputation beyond recovery.”

“The baroness wouldn’t be the first noblewoman to have an accident,“ Sforza replied sharply. “As for her bastard, we’ll just throw him down a well. Newborns die all the time.”

I did my best to keep a straight face and not show my disgust. Sforza was the worst kind of criminal. He traded blood for money as easily as he breathed. If my life had turned out better, I would have been happy never to cross his path.

But unfortunately, I had fallen under his sway the moment I arrived in the Riverland Federation. My parents and I had fled the Archfrostian civil war fifteen years ago, only for the Purple Plague to drag them both to an early grave. I ended up sent to one of Sforza’s orphanages with many other refugees. Ever the entrepreneur, the man had realized lost children made for a cheap supply of pickpockets and prostitutes.

Mersie and I had managed to avoid both of these fates by impressing Sforza with our charm and intellect. He had paid for our education so we would serve first as clerks, and then as spies in his criminal empire. Mersie’s new noble patron kept Sforza off her back, but the man would never let me go. I had made a mistake: I was now indispensable.

It took me many years, but I was finally ready to escape Sforza and rid the city of its corruption while at it.

“Anyway, I’m done,” I said. “I’ve saved enough to open a business.”

“I’m sorry Robin,” Sforza replied with a dry tone that implied otherwise. “It’s not going to happen.”

I knew it. Today was his last chance to let me go and keep his life. “My debts are long-paid, Sforza. Whatever you invested in my education, I’ve earned you a thousand times over.”

“True, but becoming a merchant?” He chuckled as he grabbed a coin from my purse. “Surely, you can do better.”

“Like what?” I asked, my heart pounding in anticipation.

“Like a noble,” he replied before biting the coin. Sforza was a careful man; he always tasted the money I earned him to check if it was real. “Baron Viridis has a daughter. Once his wife’s bastard is out of the way, she stands to inherit his estate and title.”

“So what are you going to do, marry her yourself?” His diseased face made that unlikely.

“No… but you will.” He chuckled after tasting another coin. “I have forged documents. Congratulations, Robin Waybright, you are now my nephew. Once the marriage is sealed, we’re both joining the noble club.”

I crossed my arms. “The baron will never let his daughter marry a commoner, even your nephew.”

“He will once we’ve stained his hands with his wife’s blood.” I watched Sforza bite into each and every coin; including the one I had poisoned. He didn’t even notice. “He won’t survive long after the wedding anyway. All you’ll have to do is smile and knock-up his daughter. You’re man enough for that, right? I’ll take care of the rest.”

If I had any regret about assassinating him, his words only strengthened my resolve. On paper, it was a very good deal. The Viridis weren’t the richest family in Ermeline, but they were old and their name carried a certain weight. I could safely retire in an estate paid for by peasant labor, raise a family, keep a mistress or two on the side, and play the game of court intrigue.

But I didn’t want any of this. I wanted to travel, to explore the world, to earn my money. Signing on with this deal meant having Sforza watching over my back for the rest of my life. I would trade away my freedom for ephemeral comfort.

This man was a blight on society and needed to go for the good of everyone else. And so he would.

“Don’t make that face, Robin,” Sforza teased me after he finished checking his money. “A third of my men are untrustworthy, another third is incompetent, and the rest are both at once. People like you, who get things done and don’t stab their employer’s back, they’re a rare breed. If I let you go, I’ll never find someone half as good. Try to put yourself in my shoes.”

If only he knew… “Easy for you to say, you aren’t the one who’ll have to fuck a noble for the rest of your life.”

“I’m sure you’ll get used to it,” he said with a laugh. He separated thirty gold coins from the rest and returned them to me; my meager cut for the night. “Here’s enough to buy yourself a courtesan or two. Now change your clothes before someone sees us.”

It would take a few hours for the poison to take effect, and by midnight he would be dead. I hoped he would suffer.

One of his men tossed me casual clothes, and I exchanged my noble attire for it. I slipped back into the streets as yet another commoner. The city guard dispersed the crowd before a riot could erupt and I had no trouble returning to my hideout in the city’s western districts. The place had been used as a dumping ground for victims of the plague and left in disrepair afterwards. Time and weather had worn down the houses. Half of them were missing windows, and crumbling roofs were common. The roads were unsafe here, but the locals lived in such fear of Sforza’s retribution that they left me alone.

I walked into the remains of a church near the city’s outer wall. The doors were rotten, the roof had holes, and the tombstones in the courtyard were covered in vines. The walls hardly weathered the march of time, but the symbol of the Four Artifacts, the world’s caretakers in the goddess’s absence, remained unblemished on the facade. I offered a short prayer to them, asking the Firewand for bravery, the Earthcoin for success in my plan, the Windsword for freedom, and the Seacup to punish Sforza in his next life.

“It’s time,” I muttered to myself as I entered the church. The light of the silver moon pierced through the hole in the room and let me see clearly in the dark. The ground creaked under my feet. The air reeked of dust and the smell of rotten benches. A pile of debris covered the old altar at the center of the room, waiting for someone to clean it up.

Of course, I kept my treasure in a less noticeable location. I walked to the right side of the room, pushed an old bench back, and overturned a stone under it. A travel bag full of gold, fresh clothes, a dagger, a waterskin and dried meat awaited underneath; everything I needed to flee this city.

The next stone hid a pile of documents: notes I had written, letters I had intercepted, accounts of bribes and thefts. Half a decade’s labor of recording every single act of corruption I had witnessed in this goddess-forsaken city. Shinkokan cannons could blow up castle walls; this pile of paper could shake Ermeline’s very foundations. And it would.

I had managed to accumulate a hundred gold in total over the last year. More than enough to start a new life somewhere else and pay a printing press to disseminate my trove of documents through the Riverland Federation.

High or low, everyone needed to be accountable before the law. Once I published my reports, heads would roll. The public would demand justice. Ermeline’s corruption would be purged. Not all of it–some people were simply too entrenched by now–but enough to increase scrutiny. Enough to make a difference.

And finally, mom and dad slept next to the documents. Their incinerated remains were held in an hermetic clay jar I’d made myself.

When they perished from the plague, Father asked me on his deathbed to honor his last request: scatter our ashes among the snow, so our essence may never leave home again. He had always regretted fleeing Archfrost and yearned to return until the very end.

With my clearly Archfrostian blue eyes and short red hair, I was quite noticeable among the local population and wouldn’t get past the gates without Sforza learning of it. Thankfully, I had found a secret passage leading outside the walls in the church’s basement. I assumed it had been built centuries ago to help priests and nobles escape the city if it were ever besieged. I would dye my hair with soot, move unseen to the nearest port, publish my documents, escape on a ship back to my homeland of Archfrost, and scatter my parent’s ashes in our hometown of Snowdrift. How long I’d missed it…

After completing my parents’ final request, I’d use my investment to start a business. So many ideas flooded my head. Should I buy a ship and start importing spice from the Fire Islands? Invest in a factory? Travel with a bag full of goods from one end of the world to the other? So many things to do.

It was fun while it lasted, I thought as I grabbed my belongings. I’ll miss this city. Half the people in it are rotten to the core, but it’s the other half that counts.

“Goodbye, Ermeline,” I said after filling my travel bag and putting it over my shoulder. “To a fruitful separation!”

A flash of light illuminated the church as soon as I finished my sentence.

Radiance brighter than sunlight pierced through the hole in the roof, as if the very heavens had caught fire. I looked up to see an aurora the color of gold spread above the roof.

What’s happening? I exited the church in a mix of panic and curiosity. Had the goddess returned from her journey to the stars? Or did the Firewand finally decide to smite this city’s wicked nobles with fire and brimstones? If the priests spoke the truth about the Demon Ancestors returning, I’ll eat my shoes.

I walked onto the courtyard’s grass and gazed upon a pillar of light.

My eyes widened in shock as I looked west. A spear of sunlight surged beyond the horizon like a fountain, its radiance so great and awe-inspiring as to paint the night sky golden.

At the center of the continent of Pangeal stood Mount Erebia, where the goddess crafted the Artifacts. The Fatebinder commanded the Arcane Abbey from its summit. The mountain was barely visible in the Riverland Federation in daylight, but now its summit shone brighter than any lighthouse.

It could only mean one thing.

The Fatebinder was calling upon a new generation of heroes.

The pillar of light vanished in a flash, but not before unleashing a shockwave that cleared out all clouds in the sky. I felt the wind pushing against my face and raised my hand to protect my eyes.

Over a dozen silver orbs of light flew out of Mount Erebia in the flash’s wake; followed by seven golden shooting stars. They spread in the sky like a rain of fire to all corners of the world, looking for bearers.

Looking for heroes.

Of the twenty-two classes gifted by the Four Artifacts to mankind, only the Fatebinder was constantly active. They alone decided when to release the marks back into the wild to raise a new generation of heroes. Something that hadn’t happened since the Shinkokan Wars nearly a century prior.

“No way,” I whispered in shock as I counted the new stars. It appeared all of the fourteen Vassal Classes and the seven Great Classes had been unleashed at once. “Were the priests telling the truth?”

I choked as a golden star flew over Ermeline faster than a comet and continued its journey east towards the distant Stonelands. Three of its silver companions trailed shortly after, with one seemingly crashing into Ermeline itself. The idea that this town would produce a hero, even a vassal, sounded utterly absurd.

“By the gods,” I muttered as another golden star flew from Mount Erebia and towards the Riverland Federation. The orb of light left a blazing trail in the sky brighter than a comet. I could only marvel at the splendid sight. “So… so beautiful.”

Instead of continuing its course beyond Ermeline, the star bent down towards it. It decelerated and shrunk in size, from that of a house to a bright speck of light. I chuckled, wondering who would be the lucky winner.

“So long as it’s not Sforza,” I mused. I squinted as the light became brighter and brighter. “Uh?”

Only then did I realize that the star wasn’t getting brighter.

It was getting closer.

I dropped my bag and raised my hands on instinct as the glowing projectile fell on me faster than any arrow. Something hotter than flames seared my right hand. I screamed in pain and surprise as the light scorched my skin.

When the light died out, smoke rose out of the back of my hand. It itched as if ants danced inside it.

“No…” I could hardly believe my eyes. “No way.”

A mark appeared on the back of my right hand: a golden coin with an inclined V and five triangles assembled in the shape of a star at its center. I immediately recognized the Erebian numeral for fifteen.

A golden hero’s mark. One of the seven great classes.

It… it had to be a mistake. One of the church’s stones must have fallen on my head and given me a concussion. It couldn’t be a mark. The chosen heroes were meant to be, well… heroes! I was as far away from one as humanly possible!

I heard footsteps behind me.

My first thought was that Sforza had noticed the poisoning and sent someone after me. I immediately drew a dagger out of my travel bag. “Who’s there?”

“A friend,” answered a woman’s voice.

I turned in its direction and immediately noticed a lone figure walking into the church’s courtyard, a puff of white smoke dissipating in her wake. A handsome woman a few years older than me walked under the silver moon’s light. Her green eyes were the first thing I noticed, for they were pale and sharp as steel; a silver mole was strikingly visible under her right one. She dressed in ample, practical blue clothes meant for travel, with long boots, a belt full of pouches, a white cloak falling over her shoulders. Her unkempt raven hair fell on her shoulders like a waterfall. She wielded a wooden staff topped with red crystals glowing brighter than a torch. Fire runestones, or maybe light ones.

How did she… How did she manage to sneak up on me? I scarcely heard her approach!

“Now, that’s a stroke of luck,” she said. Though she remained at a safe distance from me, she didn’t appear intimidated by my dagger. Her gaze settled on my mark. “I asked to wander near the closest hero, and I stumbled on the Merchant of all people. The goddess has a strange sense of humor.”

“You’re mistaken, Lady, I’m no hero.” She clearly didn’t believe me, and I didn’t lower my weapon. “And who are you?”

“My name is Eris. Eris Belarra.” She smiled warmly, though I was too tense for it to put me at ease. “I’m the Wanderer.”

The Wanderer? I remembered the name as a vassal class beholden to the Priest, who could go anywhere they wanted. And the Wanderer crossed half the world with a single step, or so the scriptures said.

“Prove it,” I said.

She calmly put a finger on her mole. I squinted in confusion until the moon’s light illuminated it. This was not a mole, but a stylized silver sun. A zero with rays of light bursting from its center. It might have been a Hero’s mark, though I couldn’t tell if it was indeed the Wanderer’s.

“The Fatebinder released my class early to better locate the other Heroes,” she explained. “Since I can travel from one end of the world to the other in the blink of an eye.”

“Why?” She didn’t make any sense. None of this made sense! “Why would the Fatebinder summon the heroes?”

“Where to begin?” She put her hands behind her back, staff included, and her head leaned to the side. The sight reminded me of a curious owl studying an appetizing mouse. “Archfrost is in a state of civil war with a rebel province and faces invasions from the north, the Everbright Empire is rotting at the seams, the Fire Islands and Irem are at each other’s throat, countless people suffer under Shinkokan yoke… and then there’s the small matter of the Demon Ancestors escaping from their seals.”

I had never paid much attention to my religious studies, but I knew enough to fear the Demon Ancestors. The Abbey said they had ravaged the world seven centuries ago, until the goddess empowered the first heroes to drag them off their bloody thrones. Everytime the priests disagreed with a nation’s policy or moral practices, they accused them of working for the Ancestors.

That woman, Eris, pointed at my mark. “You are the Merchant: one of the Seven Great Classes, master of the Alchemist and the Artisan, rival to the Rogue.”

I scoffed. While I did intend to become a merchant, uncapitalized, I still struggled to believe I had become the Merchant. “If anything. I would be closer to the Rogue in spirit.”

“Is that so?” The woman took a few steps towards me. I raised my dagger higher, but it didn’t deter her. “If I had to guess…”

Eris approached close enough that I could shank her if I wanted to. If it frightened her, she showed no sign of it.

“You are a cunning person with an uncanny talent for making money.” She leaned at me until our eyes met and I could feel her breath. “You come from a poor background, but you’ve got big plans and even bigger dreams. You want to open a shop, explore new lands, or start a bold new enterprise that will change the world. You hold personal contracts and the rule-of-law in high esteem, but you don’t mind using underhanded methods to achieve your goals. Oh, and you’re greedy. For gold, for love, for honors. And more than anything…”

She raised a finger and touched the tip of my dagger. “You want to become the master of your fate. No matter the cost.”

I clenched my jaw and said nothing.

My silence didn’t unsettle the woman. It only amused her. “‘How does she know that?’ Because all the Merchants before you showed the same qualities. The Knight is always a chivalrous bleeding heart. The Rogue is always an outcast and a trickster. And the Merchant is always an intrepid adventurer grasping for more.”

I glanced at the coin mark on my right hand. I had to admit that although it all sounded outlandish… I was starting to wonder. “If you’re telling the truth,” I said, “Then I have… a power?”

“Do you need more proof?” Eris raised an eyebrow. “I will sell you the color of my eyes for a single hair of yours.”

I blinked at her. “Excuse me, the color of your eyes? Do you mean that literally?”

“That is what I offer,” Eris replied with a rueful chuckle. “Is it agreeable to you?”

“Uh… I suppose, yes.” I grabbed a hair off the top of my head and offered it to her. “What next?”

Eris’ eyes glowed the moment she seized her prize. The process was instantaneous. Her green irises lost all coloration, as did the pupils. I found myself staring at two pale, featureless orbs.

“This is the Merchant’s power, my friend,” Eris declared with a bright smile. “You can buy and sell anything.”