Remy Thalos. The name was notable in certain circles in the Aetherian kingdom of Celestria.

The Thalos family had a long history among the aristocratic families of the kingdom. Their orchards produced some of the best wine on the continent and provided the family with a lucrative income stream.

Remy himself had profited his whole life off of his family's status. He was well-educated and pampered from a young age. Little had been asked of him and much had been given. But, even nobles have duties that they must honor.

The Kingdom of Shadowsong neighbored the shining kingdom of Celestria. And as such, business and bloodlines crossed borders.

In dealing with their neighbors in Shadowsong, the Thalos patriarch courted the noble house of Martis. And, a bargain was struck. The two houses would be united in marriage.

The beautiful daughter of the Martis family would wed the young man, Remy Thalos. Such an arrangement was profitable for all parties.

The only problem was….

Remy hastily packed his belongings in the quiet of the night.

"Dammed Dad," the man spits as he closes the last of his bags. "Why should I marry at my age? I've only just come of age. I haven't even seen the world and you want me to settle down."

Remy looks around his room, the few bags he's prepared can hardly contain a small fraction of the treasures he's been gifted in his life.

He looks at the bags he's managed to pack and realization dawns on him.

"Hah. This isn't gonna work."

He could get a servant to bring his bags to the carriage. But, the whole family would soon learn of his attempt to escape.

With a mournful gaze, he picks up a solitary bag packed with essentials. He'd have to leave his wealth of belongings behind if he was to escape.

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A sigh escapes him as he looks one last time at his room and all that he's leaving behind. Then his expression hardens. They forced him to do this.

Remy sneaks out of the mansion under the cover of darkness. The staff and guards are none the wiser to his departure. And, the young lord manages to claim a horse from the stables and hastily flees the Thalos Estate.

On the open road, Remy can't help but smile. He's free and can see the world on his terms. With his wit and charm, he does not doubt that he will succeed in everything he does.

2 weeks later, the image of Remy Thalos has changed.

He sits pensively in a grimy bar in the city of Zales, not far from his family home. The stubble on his face, which he never allowed to grow for more than a day in the past, is ragged and dirty.

He'd thought he'd brought enough coin to last him years. But, in his naivety, he'd spent it frivolously on women and booze. Though most of the money was gambled away in amateurish attempts to win big.

Ultimately, his wit had failed him. He fell deeper into the act of drinking, to the point where he didn't have enough coin for another after the one he was presently sipping.

As Remy ruminated on his foolishness, he thought of home. Of his father and mother. Surely they'd accept him back.

No.

Remy shook his head. He wouldn't disgrace himself like that. For all that he'd lost in just 2 weeks, his noble pride was not gone.

The last drop of ale disappeared faster than it should have and Remy stood up. The bartender watched him leave impassively.

On the streets, Remy raised the cowl of his tunic over his head and watched the world around him with an aggressive eye.

What does one do when one lacks money?

The answer was simple, take it.

The knife at his waist reminded him that he had power and that all the martial training of his youth wasn't just for show.

His eye catches on a man in fine, yet somehow unremarkable, clothes. The man's salt and pepper hair makes him quite dashing despite his leathery features.

Remy can't imagine this tradesman isn't carrying a good amount of coin and begins to stalk him at a distance.

The hunt carries on for some time as the dashing man walks with confidence from street to street and down dark alleys.

Just as Remy works himself up to assail the man, something strikes him as off.

The alley the dashing man just entered is a dead end. He simply stands with his back to Remy.

Alarm finally begins to stir in Remy's mind and he begins to edge backwards, until he hears footsteps from behind him. Looking back he sees two big men blocking his path of escape.

Remy's grip on the knife turns white-knuckled as fear creeps into his mind.

"You're not very good at this."

Remy turns back to the dashing man who now faces him.

The salt and pepper-haired man smiles a kindly smile that looks somehow sinister to Remy's eyes.

"If you're prepared to kill, you must be prepared to be killed. So tell me," the man says. "Are you ready to die?"