The Empire of Laydel. A prosperous and thriving nation; jewel of the Western continent. Despite having an empty throne for fourteen years now, the people of the country lived lives of leisure and glory — enjoying the blessings of peace, plenty and safety.

A glorious, placid nation which flourished even during times of weakness. Ever since the war between Izadel and Laydel ended four years ago, the empire had suffered very few outbreaks of unrest or invasion, and had expanded considerably. Thanks to the cooperation of the four duchies, Atlan, Cherliann, Firventia and Einfred — the nation was able to maintain its solidarity.

However, this did not mean there was no tension brewing beneath the surface. As the years passed and empire grew, so too did their princes. Daniel and Mikael Laydel, a pair of half-brothers who were candidates for the throne.

Despite being born by the nation's most hated woman — Queen Giselle, Mikael had garnered much support ever since he entered aristocracy at the tender age of nine. Living with the esteemed Cherlianns who protected him from any harm, Prince Mikael was raised in an environment perfect for a noble who could potentially rule the nation.

An illustrious young man, who mastered the sword and was labelled a skilled warrior by the time he turned twelve, rivalling many generals among Rudien Cherliann's army. News of his rare affinity for ice magic had spread through the lands - instantly earning the favour of numerous ministers who believed magic was power. And even his charming, angelic beauty was idolised amongst the people who saw him.

Less resented him for his origins, now that he had proved himself and lived luxuriously under the care of the nation's hero. Rumoured to be considerably close to Irene Cherliann, who was as renowned as her family — the people wondered if the two would take the positions of Emperor and Empress in the future.

The growth of a faction supporting Mikael as emperor, didn't come as a surprise. After all, for four years now — the second prince was the only member of the imperial family anyone had seen.

It was a well-known fact to the people, that Daniel Laydel had disappeared.

By his own will, when the first prince turned eleven, he willingly left the care of the Atlans before ever showing his face in high-society. Rumours told it was because a trusted servant of the prince was fired — but instead of letting the servant go, the prince left alongside him.

Nobody seemed to be aware of his whereabouts, but it was clear the dukes knew something.

As a result of the incident and these rumours, the reputation of House Atlan had deteriorated considerably, and many nobles began to side with Prince Mikael becoming Emperor in place of his brother. Daniel was underhandedly labelled a "runaway prince" who abandoned his duties — despite the dukes assuring he would be returning eventually.

People feared that the two princes would battle for the throne, but those who knew Mikael well, had little to worry about. After all, it was said the second prince had absolutely no intention of inheriting the country.

Another day passed in Laydel, as the people went about their daily lives. Streets bustling with an air of liveliness, shops overflowing with colourful produce, craftsmen working on their wares, and giant trade ships sailing along the wide river that ran through the centre of the city, its banks lined with trees. The ambience of this empire was perpetually flourishing and there were always vibrant, healthy looks on the people's faces.

A young man cloaked in a dark mantle, silently admired the structure of the boats which had just returned from a day's fishing, and were now moored along the river's edge. He stood aloof from the bustle of the sailors, watching as the merchants unloaded their goods from the ships.

An azure sky, reflected in glittering waves of water. White clouds serenely passed by, as a pair of silver irises shifted to the black, red and blue flag of Laydel — fluttering breezily from the top of a ship's mast. His attention lingered on it for a moment, but was soon drawn to the sounds of people shouting, not far from where he stood.

The aggravated voices came from the docks of a nearby trade ship, and the cloaked man soon distinguished the cacophonous argument from the accents of the sailors who owned the ships.

"You really think our nation will buy wares from you Izadellians?! You have some nerve, showing your faces here!"

The conflict was beginning to gather a lot of attention, and the look of unease on the faces of passersby came to the young man's attention. And as the sailors continued to deride the foreigners with little to no filter on the profane words they used, none of the men seemed to notice the tall, cloaked figure approaching them.

"What's going on?" The young man asked, his low voice capturing the attention of the sailors almost instantly.

Reaching a slender, gloved hand up to his hood, he revealed a head of ebony hair, and a handsome sun-kissed face with picturesque features. He was young, perhaps a teenager — but his sharply-shaped grey eyes framed by dark lashes, did not wear the look of a child.

Something about his aura was a bit intimidating despite his youth. Perhaps it was due to the boy's notably tall height.

The men were startled by his intervention, but quick to realise he was a familiar face. "Oh, it's you, Leon," A familiar sailor sighed, relieved at the sight of the young man. But there was still a huge look of irritation on his face. "I'm glad you're here. Can you take these guys to the authorities? They seem to be demanding entry to our country even though they're our enemies."

Leon looked over at the foreigners and their gear. He could tell just by looking, that these men were a band of merchants who must have been travelling across the globe for countless years. There seemed to be nothing particularly suspicious about them — but if they were Izadellian, it was sure to stir trouble amongst the people regardless of whether they were harmless or not.

"Are these the only boats?" Leon glanced upriver, where two identical ships were anchored beside each other. They were smaller compared to the other ships lining the dockside.

"Y-Yes. Please, Sir, we really mean no harm," One of the men began to say, and his expression was troubled. Leon could sense a strong Izadellian accent from him, which confirmed his heritage. "We're simply merchants like any other. We travelled to Laydel hoping our wares would sell here — look, we even have the documents. Please just give us a chance-"

"You seriously think we'll trust your people when you started a war with us?!" The sailor retaliated, and Leon heaved a small sigh. At this rate, it'd be Laydel starting wars, if this was how the people were treating outsiders. This situation was going to need some helping, after all.

"Joseph, I'll take care of this matter," Leon interjected, placing a hand on the shoulder of the sailor reassuringly. Although his facial expression was always the same stoic and unreadable one he always wore — it was difficult to say no to someone like him. After all, he had been helping people around town for a while now. "Just leave this to me."

The sailor reluctantly nodded his head, deciding to trust in the young man's abilities. After all — Leon Nalriche was never known for being an incapable figure. Despite his youth, this boy was extremely masterful at handling people and solving affairs which most commoners would struggle with.

Casting another bitter glare at the Izadellians, Joseph grunted as he walked off, the other sailors with him following suit. Leon watched them for a moment, waiting for them to leave — before turning to the merchants and offering a hand to the man who seemed to be their leader.

"Sorry about that," he sighed apologetically, as the merchant stared at him. Contrary to his sharp appearance — the boy seemed nicer than they thought. His hair was long; a beautiful midnight black, curling in slight waves around his shoulders and neck with some of it tied loosely in a half-up tail.

He had a tall, slender yet muscular body for his age, with a warm skin-tone and a gorgeously proportioned face — an uncommon one for a person from Laydel. At first glance, one would likely wonder if he were mixed-blooded, since some of his features seemed different from those in Laydel. It made them question if he was really a commoner like any other, because he certainly had a face worthy of being called a noble.

The merchant took his hand, but he could feel the roughness through the boy's gloves. Proof that he was a hardworking individual on top of having a unique charm on his side. Some sort of weapon was peaking out from beneath his cloak, but it didn't seem to be the scabbard of a sword. Albeit unsure of what weapon he wielded, the merchant was aware this boy wasn't to be underestimated from the confident way he carried himself.

"My name is Leon Nalriche. And you are?" Leon asked politely.

"...I am Lutho Venstel. A merchant hailing from Izadel and these are my men," the man gestured towards the four behind him, who seemed relieved at the sight of Leon being so conflict-free. They didn't seem like they could tell what they were talking about, so the raven-haired boy surmised they weren't well-versed in the language of Laydel. "We have travelled together for fourteen years and worked in this field for a very long time."

Venstel... Leon remembered hearing about the name once in the past, but only in passing. "Anyways, you mentioned selling your wares here?"

"Yes... we were hoping to make money off some quality merchandise, but it seems we aren't welcome here..." Lutho sighed, shaking his head. "I understand that the people are on guard. Considering the war four years ago, they must not want us to be here."

Lutho then crossed his arms, his expression grim. "Yet simply because of our Izadellian blood, people in Laydel refuse to trust us, before even looking at us as hardworking merchants just trying to make a living. The nobles here have been cruel in the past and refused to buy from us unless it met their demands."

Leon listened in understanding. As he gazed down at the ground in thought, he wondered about how he could help these men. His intuition told him there was no threat or concealed ulterior motives in their eyes. Worn hands and tired expressions from the years of hard work — it was obvious they were just ordinary men who worked hard to earn a living.

"What sort of merchandise do you have?" He asked, deciding to try and survey they situation to help these merchants out. Leon was a man who hated discrimination, more than anything — so he felt a feeling of obligation to assist these men. But that didn't mean he was willing to trust them so easily. If their wares were simply fakes, he would know.

Lutho lifted a hand. "We gathered an abundance of quality silks and fabrics from the nations Jowei and Adenia."

Those words caused the stoic expression on Leon's face to shift with slight surprise.

"You brought them all the way from the Eastern continent?" He seemed slightly amazed, considering the journey by boat would take an entire three months across the ocean of Platia. Because of this vast distance, it was always difficult to trade with Jowei and Adenia.

Lutho nodded his head. "We crossed the vast sea to sell our wares here, only to be treated like dirt. But we don't have a choice, this is the only empire who would be able to afford products of this quality."

Leon dipped his head slightly, acknowledging the merchant's frustration. Considering Izadel was no longer seen as an enemy kingdom, it was unjust that the people was treating them in such a discriminatory manner - but not exactly unexpected. After all, it was Izadel who declared war in the first place, and although they were destroyed by Rudien Cherliann's forces, the people of Laydel still held some ill feelings toward them.

Even so, it wasn't right for the people to treat innocent merchants, uninvolved in the war, as if they were the scum who started the conflict. In the end, they were men simply trying to earn a living.

"May I survey your merchandise?" Leon asked.

"Of course!" A relieved smile crossed Lutho's face. "Right this way, Sir Leon. We unloaded a few of our boxes earlier, if you'd like to see."

Leon was soon guided by the merchants to a wagon, with tall wooden crates which seemed to have been kept clean and in great condition despite the long journey they travelled through. Lutho grabbed a claw hammer from the wagon bed and opened a crate, stepping aside whilst allowing the young man to inspect the contents inside.

And much to his surprise — Leon found himself gazing into a golden chest, rather than a box of wares.

He carefully surveyed the silks and their fine weaving, the dyed designs forming intricate pictures of flowers and patterns. There were folded dresses, wraps, and even threads which resembled spun gold. Leon turned to face Lutho with glittering silver orbs.

"These are amazing... The quality of these goods are far superior to anything I've seen on the market, it would be shame if the people of Laydel missed out on this."

Lutho grinned, wrinkles forming on his face as his eyes lit up with the joy of someone finally acknowledging his quality wares. "You have a good eye, Sir Leon. These were extremely popular among nobles in Jowei. Even the ruler of their nation had his robes made from these same silks."

"If that's the case, I definitely won't let our nation miss this opportunity," Leon affirmed, facing him with a light of determination in his eyes. "Leave it to me. I'll see to it that you have a booth set up at the town square - where all the nobles do their shopping. Just give me a week, and you'll be earning more money than a baron."

Lutho seemed taken aback by the young man's wilfulness and confidence. Even though he was still young, Leon had a sense of confidence in his silver eyes. And all of the merchant's years of experience told him that this individual was definitely not to be taken lightly.

After helping the merchants by directing them to a nearby inn known for its hospitality — with an owner that was familiar with Leon, the merchants demonstrated their gratitude to the young man, who promised to meet them here in two days and help them set up a stall. Leon bid them farewell, deciding it would be a good idea to head back soon.

...I guess it's about time for me to make a return. He thought, raising a gloved hand up to his hood and lifting it over his head again. As he did this, the silver ring on his thumb glistened beneath the light — and he had almost forgotten it was there.

"Leon!" A voice called out to him from behind, and the shrouded figure turned around to see a familiar crimson-haired man approaching him with a grim look on his face. He was breathlessly running toward him, as if he had been searching for hours on end, and was caught up in a wild goose chase as a result.

Sporting the same dark cloak, he recognised the man as his trustworthy companion.

"Yes?"

"Please stop wandering off like that, you gave me a heart attack," The red-head sighed, raising a gloved hand up to his face in exhaustion. "What were you doing this time? Did you go and catch another thief or arrest a shoplifter? Or take another lost child to their parents?"

Leon's naturally stoic and nonchalant expression shifted slightly — rosy lips curling upwards into a vague smirk. "Actually, I was just helping some merchants out."

The red-haired man blinked, raising an eyebrow. "Helping merchants? Aren't you usually arresting them for selling fake wares?"

Leon gazed ahead toward the river, which was still in his line of sight. "These men were different. People wouldn't buy their quality wares, and were too busy discriminating against them to listen to what they had to say."

His companion frowned slightly. "That's no surprise, the people have been prickly like that against outsiders for years, thanks to the nobles... So what do you plan on doing?"

Leon was silent for a moment, before turning around to face his friend with eyes like steel. "I'm going to teach the aristocracy a lesson."

"Huh?" The red-haired man raised an eyebrow, his face in a sceptical grimace. But as he gazed at Leon in apprehension, there was a look of confidence in his eyes.

The colour of his irises instantaneously shifted in colour from a pale silver — to a glistening, crystalline blue the moment Leon gracefully took off the ring on his thumb. As though a spell's affects had worn off, the true colour of his eyes which resembled deep ocean depths, finally returned.

"Tieve, let's go and visit my uncle." The raven-haired boy faced his red-haired companion with a smile, but there was a look of rascality in the way he smiled. And the crimson-haired man couldn't help but feel uneasy when he wore that look on his face.

After all, it usually meant he had something unpredictable planned.

Leon sighed softly, glancing at the ring between his fingers. Its smooth sheen glistened under the sun, a flickering reflection of light. "I think this would be a good time for me to go back to being 'Daniel' again."

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