First Tether of Aurefrith, Mystday, 120th Cycle of Threads
I was born into affluence — wealth so old it had grown cold. My family passed down estates, trade routes, and neglect in equal measure. My mother grew up surrounded by meetings, important businesspeople, travels, and studying. Meanwhile, my father rebelled before he got shoved into responsibilities he doesn't even understand. When their parents met during a business convention in Sanctara, they decided to expand their trading hubs and arranged a marriage for my parents. I don't think they despise each other, but I also don't think they love each other; it's all about transaction. Even my birth was planned to broaden our bloodline, so that I can continue the business, and with a little more push, they had me as the sole heir with a bounty up my forehead that I have to get married before I reach 300 Moons.
From the moment I was born, my path had already been decided. But to get to that destination, my parents made it their mission to turn me into the best version of myself. Instead of love and attention, all I could remember were the mentors they hired to teach my young mind the industry I was born into. From a young age, I was taught how to calculate profits, not feelings; to see an opportunity instead of a person. I was taught how to smile when I'm in front of an investor's daughter, to pretend that the respect people gave me didn't come from wealth I didn't even earn. "Malric, always remember not to bite the hand that feeds you. Rather, you shake it with a firm squeeze to establish a connection," my father once told me when I cried over taxes. From thereon, my life became a constant cycle of habits that I dreamed — hoped, even — would please them.
I was summoned by my father one day. "This is my son, Malric," he said, gesturing to me. The man — who introduced himself as Aedric and whom father often referred to as "a man with great physique and an even greater mind" — bent down to shake my hand before introducing his own daughter. "And this is my daughter, Amara." Out of instinct, I stretched my hands to shake hers. Their voices blurred together, fading into the background as I studied the girl in front of me. She was small, probably younger than I am and too innocent to understand the importance of her own father's work.
Mr. Aedric's visit at our house became frequent, bringing Amara with him occasionally. "What do you think they're talking about?" asked Amara as we scanned the vast library of my family's home, the aged tomes on every shelf smelling of knowledge long passed down since Erythra. "Business, I assume." I replied while reading a book. "The Ledger of Lives…? Are you into business like your dad, Malric?" She asked another question after peeking at the literature. "You should try reading this, too. If you're planning on expanding your family's business in Sanctara one day." Her hand reached for a book on the shelf before handing it to me. It was a book by Archpriest Calenor D'Vael called The Solian Concordance. I thanked her before she was called by her father.
That night, I started reading the book she gave me. It contains insights about balancing Sanctara's divine beliefs and moral justice. I remembered Amara telling me that her father was the Senator of Justice in the Council of Faiths. Maybe father is trying to negotiate to expand trading hubs all the way to Sanctara. One of the excerpts that stuck with me is: "Law without mercy is tyranny; mercy without order is chaos. Thus speaks Solus — let the heart of man mirror the sun: Burning not in wrath, but in steady truth."
My father kept ranting about his meeting during dinner. This happens quite often ever since Mr. Aedric started visiting our home. "He's making me look like I'm an idiot, Lenira. He just won't take me seriously. Talking about the Council of Trade first… Then why won't he just make me a member of that council?" He kept blurting that the veins in his neck started bulging.
"It's in the universal Codex under Article IX Section 9.4, father. It states that kingdoms trade with each other only under the supervision of the Council of Trade, which operates under the Council of Faiths." I explained, hoping he would acknowledge the extent of my proficiency in law. My father's eyes bulged in anger instead. "What did you say, boy? You dare take his side?" He roared.
"But he is the Senator of Justice, is he not? Then that would mean he's more knowledgeable than—"
"No one knows business better more than I do, Malric. You, of all people, should know that. I've been in this industry for as long as Lysandrel blessed me." He said in a condescending tone, like his claim is the only thing that matters. "Malric, sweetheart. You shouldn't doubt your own family like that." My mother, on the contrary, has this soft tone to mask the absurdity of her defense. The tension on the table was palpable, worse than the scraping sound of the utensils against the fine porcelain plate.
I knew better than to argue back, so I just nodded. "Alright, mother. I apologize." She praised me and we ate in silence. How had my mother gone from a fearless trader's daughter to someone bound by obligation, defending my father despite his failings?
The library became my sanctuary, and with Amara frequently visiting, we bonded over our love for books. She shared her knowledge in healing and apothecary, providing me technical insights and its real-world application. Meanwhile, I taught her everything I learned from the Universal Codex: the importance of law, the penalties, the consequences. "I'm impressed, Malric. You almost sound like my father," she praised. For the first time, the praise felt earned — it wasn't given because of my status in life or the wealth my family has accumulated — it was genuine. I was stunned at first, but the feeling faded as quickly as it had arisen. Amara suggested I should pursue a career in law. "My parents wanted me to take over the business," I sighed helplessly.
"Malric, no business is beyond the law — in fact, no one is above it. That's what my father always says," she countered.
That night, I bravely told my parents my plan. I did my research and created a well-constructed presentation; the same way I've seen my parents prepare for their business meetings. My father, unfortunately, was infuriated. "Greywick Academy? Have you lost your mind? Your mother already told you—Valdoria. End of discussion." He threw his hands in the air for emphasis. His face had almost the same hue of a ruby.
"Yes, father. I was informed. However, I am neither a brute or a gladiator. Wouldn't that be a disadvantage for me?" I countered his argument. "Disadvantage, how?" My mother asked as if she's giving me a chance to shape my own future. When I couldn't answer her fast enough, she continued. "Mal, it is not disadvantageous for you to attend the Ironspire Training Ground. You will not go there for the education; we have already provided you enough of that. You will go there for connections; think of it as a business trip. How else would you run the trading hub without connections and expand our legacy?" Her voice was acerbic, leaving almost no room for argument, all the while my father kept nodding his head in agreement. Both of them were rigid in their seats, anticipating for my response as I stared at them, contemplating whether to give in or not.
"I hear you, mother; however, business involves law as well. I do thank both of you for the early business education you taught me, but I would want to also explore the legal side of it." Keeping my voice leveled, I showed them I was worthy of choosing my own path — one I truly loved, not the one they had been spoon-feeding me.
"Let's call it a night, Malric. Your mother and I will consider your points—you've made strong arguments." My father rose from his seat, my mother following suit, leaving me alone with my anxiety. Their decision could make or break me, but I was determined to sway it in my favor. After all, they had taught me the art of bargaining — I was no longer powerless to shape the inevitable.