Prologue: Third Time’s the Charm

Keeping business as a fruit vendor in the busy market streets of the Edalian Empire is hard work. The sun beams down mercilessly onto paved dirt roads, casting its heat in blinding rays during the hottest days of summer. Which it happens to be, leaving me in search of what meager shelter I’m able to get under the tarp I set up by my fruit cart. I fan my tunic for some breeze as sweat drips down my neck. Even though I’ve pulled my hair back, it barely helps me cool down.

I’m Eran Merce, a fruit vendor. It’s been a few years since my coming-of-age, and that makes me a full-fledged man as far as anyone else is concerned. I’ve heard people describe me as lean and tan, a bit rugged from the time I’ve spent under Edalian sunlight hauling crates of fruit here and there. I’ve got all the typical features of an Edalian citizen; skin that tans instead of burns, olive eyes and oakwood hair.

But you could say that my luck isn’t as typical as my appearance. It’s not outstanding either. In fact, I’m inclined to believe that it’s the opposite these days. I don’t know if I’ve been cursed or if it’s some generational karma finally catching up to me, but over the past two weeks of pushing and pulling my cart around, I’ve already had to relocate three different times.

And no, not because of anything I did. The circumstances were what forced me into moving, even if I tried to avoid them.

I’m located in Kohna, a fief under the jurisdiction of Count Kanera in the southwest region of the empire. I was born and raised here, and so were my parents, and their parents, and their parents… I’m sure the point’s been made. The Merce family tree in Kohna goes back at least five generations.

We’re a part of a merchant guild. A small one, but we’re merchants nonetheless. The eldest sibling, my sister Yulia, has taken on the mantle of heiress to the family business. She’s been blessed by the skills for it, and was born with the sort of charisma that my father took a shine to. I’m the third child, and that typically means I get to either work under the firstborn or I go out and try to weave my own destiny in the world. I did just that. Or I’ve been trying to.

The second child? My brother, Rian. He’s the rebel to our family’s little tradition and decided to become a knight for the count. Last I heard from him, he’s getting somewhere. I think. I can’t tell if those letters were the honest truth or not, he’s always had a habit of embellishing things a little.

Back to the story. I’ll start from before I managed to get my fruit business up and running. In one of the guild gatherings, I decided to take a gamble with a new member, Rafi, who was trying to sell some exotic fruits from the southeast. Nobody was really interested in selling fruits, especially new ones. They perish quickly, require an ample amount of storage, and you’ve really got to try and sell it to the apprehensive locals.

I didn’t think I had a lot to lose. Thought it was going to be my big break after a few failed attempts at selling silks and porcelain. Managed to convince Yulia to help me kickstart the business with a few deals here and there. She lent me her coins and I got things moving with Rafi. It’s really not all that impressive of a beginning, just about the same as any other new business.

Maybe all those lessons I learned under my parents knocked some advertising skills into me. Starting off with convincing the older madams back then was the right move. Once they got the gist of how good these fruits actually are, word started to spread and I slowly got regular patrons coming my way. Enough for me to pay Yulia off, interest rate included, and got her interested in investing some more into my humble fruit endeavors.

It was going well. I think in that regard, my luck was starting to turn around for the better. But apparently it came with a price.

The hero arrived in Kohna two weeks ago and it was as if a whirlwind struck our fief.

I’ll never forget that bright tuft of blond hair blurring past my eyes as he barreled through my fruit cart and caused the destruction of a perfectly good stock of fruit. That was the first time I saw him, chasing after some kind of horned creature that had breached Kohna’s walls and the hero was in hot pursuit of the damned thing.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

And I happened to be in the way despite being nowhere near the center of the road.

My first impression of the hero is that he’s reckless.

If you’re an Edalian, you’d have heard of him. Someone would have to be living under a rock if they don’t know the name Silus Lucero, Hero of the Empire. I’m hazy on what exactly he accomplished, but apparently, we were at risk of imminent destruction at some point thanks to a faction of… dark mages. I think. Or demons? There were at least ten different iterations of Silus Lucero’s story, and who knows which one’s the truth. All we knew was that he did something incredible and historical celebrations were had in the capital city just about a year ago.

To me, Silus Lucero is a fruit cart destroyer. And a really good one at that, because he did it again just a week after the first incident. We’ll get to that in a moment.

My mother didn’t raise a quitter, so I picked everything back up and chalked it up to bad luck. Maybe it was offsetting the good. I told myself that it was the way the world kept me on my toes, so I counted my losses and tried to make up for the difference. I fixed my cart, relocated, and things were fine for a while.

The second time it happened, it really got under my skin.

That was when the news of what the hero’s been doing here really started to spread around us commonfolk. Rumors floating around from mouth to mouth, and I heard quite a bit. Not that you can trust this sort of news with complete certainty, but it was good to be aware. Allegedly, Silus Lucero arrived in Kohna to hunt down a leader of a cult that managed to escape the capital city’s bastille.

Not that it’s any of my business. I figured as long as I stayed out of it, I’d be able to live my life as usual. After all, I assume that the esteemed hero would be able to handle it and move along just as he’s said to do time and time again.

Unfortunately, I was wrong on one account: I wasn’t able to live my life as usual. The situation escalated one day and I, again, happened to be there. Some sort of fire spell was cast my way and burnt everything I had down, knocking me off my feet and onto the ground.

The streets started to panic as some sort battle ensued. I wasn’t able to salvage anything and before I even realized what was happening. I remember my ears rang and I was dazed, sitting on the ground staring at what was once my cart until guard came to escort me away from the scene.

That was about a week ago. I got another cart commissioned and thankfully Rafi’s still got enough stock to keep me afloat before the next sail is scheduled to arrive with new fruit. This would be the third time I’ve relocated, and here’s hoping that would do it.

Talk about bad timing, though. All that scare from what happened a week ago has caused most of the citizens to hole themselves up at home and the usually bustling streets of the fiefdom has settled into nothing but the occasional pedestrian walking by. Most of my deliveries these last few days were personal orders from more affluent households, and little to none from foot traffic.

Things are about to be rough.

“Eran.” That’s my sister’s voice. I look up from the unsold stock to see her approaching on horseback. She pulls the reins and the steed stops. Yulia hops off, holding it by the lead as she comes closer for a chat. I assume.

“Hey. What’s wrong?” I ask.

“The streets are dangerous these days, I hear,” she begins, sweeping her gaze across our surroundings before her attention returns to me. “And it’s pretty much empty anyway. You’re certain you still want to be out here? It’s not worth it. You got hurt last time.”

“It wasn’t that bad. I got surprised and my hair singed a little, I’m better now.” As if to prove my point, I stretch my arms above my head and stand up. “I don’t really like being cooped up at home. And it’s been quiet since then. I know you’re worried but no one died.”

“You know I’m just cautious,” Yulia says. “And I’d rather decrease the risk of my brother getting swept up as collateral because he’s in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“You think I’m gonna end up as collateral?” I almost sound offended.

“Your track record says you’ve got a knack for that.” Yulia’s smile tells me she’s being playful but her eyes lack the usual mischief. Eventually, she looks away with a sigh. “Mother’s also worried, Eran.”

For a moment, I’m quiet. I ponder and rub the back of my neck, one hand on my hip as I turn to look the opposite way. “…Still no news from Rian?”

Yulia shakes her head. “None.”

“It’s not like him to take weeks to respond.” I don’t voice it out loud, but he’s also been at the back of my mind. Rian’s silence is more concerning than the absence of people walking around.

“We’re going to try and reach him again.” Yulia pauses. From the corners of my eyes, I see her shift to look at me and so I mirror her and our eyes lock. “Be back before the sun sets, Eran. Father wants us to have dinner together.”

“All right. I can at least do that.” I look up to the tarp for a second, stifling a sigh as I watch Yulia hop on horseback. “I’ll see you for dinner then.”

“Likewise. Good luck with all that fruit,” are Yulia’s parting words as she waves a hand from over her shoulder.

I snort as the horse picks up into a trot and say to myself, “Yeah, I’ll need it.”