Commerce Emperor Chapter 32: The Gilded Truth (Patreon)

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I walked out of my meeting with three different concessions: a letter of safe conduct signed by the Duchess herself, which granted our delegation free passage through all of Walbourg’s territories; Griselda’s promise to hold an Estates-General assembly in three weeks’ time; and a renewed hope in the future.

“The Estates-General?” Marika asked me once she and the rest of the delegation were finally allowed through Riverstone’s gates. Duchess Griselda lent us a room for us Heroes to meet in, the Cavalier included. “What’s that?”

“A very old Archfrostian assembly representing the three branches of the kingdom’s society: the religious orders, the nobility, and everyone else,” I explained. “Walbourg created their own version when they seceded.”

Archfrost’s Estates-General was little more than an advisory body with no real power. Previous kings only summoned them three times in the kingdom’s history. Walbourg, however, turned it into a true parliament that gathered once a year to settle internal disputes. It was this assembly that first declared the Duchy’s independence from Archfrost on the civil war’s onset.

“Duchess Griselda will summon them in an extraordinary session to decide on a treaty with Archfrost, if any,” I continued. “It shall be held in three weeks’ time, once every dignitary has made the journey. Coincidentally, the Reformist Council should take place roughly at the same time.”

“Walbourg will become a busy place during that period,” Mr. Fronan commented. “Especially if the Priest does indeed make an appearance.”

“She will,” I confirmed. “According to Duchess Griselda, she is already in Walbourg.”

Soraseo’s hand tightened on her sword’s hilt. “Our enemies will strike both events.”

“Naturally,” I replied with a sharp nod. “A treaty with Archfrost will not serve the Lord of Wrath’s aims, nor will a peaceful resolution to the Reformist crisis. The Knots will do their best to sabotage both.”

“They will fail,” Captain Vernisla declared with confidence. “Lady Griselda granted me the authority to organize the security for both events. No cultist will escape my sight, I can assure you.”

“And we will do our best to help.” I smiled at our Cavalier. “If Walbourg releases you from service after forming a peace treaty, you can always knock on my door.”

“You are pulling your cart ahead of the ox, Lord Merchant,” she replied with an amused snort. “First bring peace to these lands and then we’ll talk.”

I chuckled to myself. I could never turn down a bet like that. “Challenge accepted.”

Marika crossed her arms. “Any news about Will and the golems?”

“Yes.” I turned to Vernisla. “Duchess Griselda said you let a group with three golems travel through Riverstone a week ago.”

“I did,” she confirmed. “According to their papers, they were commissioned by Count Stalh of Clearwater in order to help secure our southern border against a potential Everbright Empire invasion. We suspected him of collaborating with the Knots for quite some time, but denying this group passage might have resulted in Riverstone being breached, so we let them go.”

Marika tensed like a bowstring. “Was there a one-eyed redhead among them?”

“Yes,” Vernisla confirmed. Marika’s eyes immediately filled with quiet anger. “You have a grudge to settle with that one?”

“You could say that,” Marika replied dryly. “Where is Clearwater?”

“It is a small town south of the Duchy,” I explained before calming down Marika’s ardors. “Griselda gave us leeway to pursue our own investigation on said lands under Vernisla’s supervision.”

“Which means that you don’t confront the Knots until I say so.” Our Cavalier looked at Marika. “Understood?”

Marika’s jaw clenched. “The last time I met that man, he helped set a village on fire and nearly killed o—my son. I can’t let him escape again.”

“He won’t, but we will apprehend him and his cohorts when we are ready.” Vernisla held Marika’s gaze without flinching. “If you don’t behave, Lady Griselda will have your letter of safe conduct revoked. Don’t fight me on this one.”

“We don’t intend to,” I quickly said before quickly supporting Marika, who did not like this outcome one bit. “But I agree with my friend. We should seize the initiative while we still can.”

“We have three weeks before the summit,” Vernisla replied with a shrug. “We’ll get your man.”

“Three weeks are a long time to wait for,” Soraseo said. “The Lord of Wrath may march from the north before then.”

I shook my head. “On the contrary, I think our foes will only make a move after the two congresses. Striking beforehand would risk uniting the factions against Belgoroth, so they will try to organize further conflict to divide us first. I bet they’ll try to assassinate us or launch a terror attack like the one Florence commanded back in Snowdrift.”

“We won’t let things get that far,” Vernisla declared with a smug smile. “Milady runs a tight ship when it comes to her lands; tighter than the Knight.”

Not tight enough to prevent demonic rats from climbing onboard, I thought. A remark I kept to myself.

Half of an ambassador’s job involved knowing when to shut up.

—----

A three-day ride and two military checkpoints later, our delegation finally reached its final destination: the city of Walbourg.

For a while, I thought we had taken the wrong turn and found ourselves wandering back to the Riverland Federation. The further we progressed inside the duchy’s heartland, the more we left behind Archfrost’s plains and mountains for woodlands and streams. The main roads were maintained and duly patrolled—a far cry from what we had seen on the other side of the border—with no hints of monster activity.

Walbourg itself proved just as impressive. I knew it used to be Archfrost’s second-largest city back when it still belonged to the kingdom, many times larger than Snowdrift, but it seemed to have made good use of its fifteen years of quasi-autonomy. I could see the various steps of its development in its architecture.

Built at a confluence of rivers, Walbourg was split into two halves: the old town, a crescendo of cobblestones standing on an impregnable island; and its suburbs, a set of new districts encroaching on the woodlands around it. The former area housed the city’s famed cathedral, a towering marvel of marble spires and arched colored windows that we could see from leagues away, and the Duchess’ own castle.

However, for all of the old city’s history and importance, it was the forested suburbs that impressed me the most. Hordes of workers toiled on unfinished houses lined up near walls of wood and patches of pine trees, not all of them humans; I saw flying birdkin deliver packs of straw to ratkin completing a small home’s thatched roof. We rode past bustling markets brimming with the scent of fresh produce and the call of merchants calling for clients in Arcadian, Archfrostian, Riverlandian, Everbrightian, and even Erebian. The whole place breathed activity.

In short, I immediately felt right at home.

“I see someone is happy,” Marika mused as we rode through the organized chaos, the Duchess’ guards forming a security cordon around us. The city’s people didn’t yet know of our identities, but word of the Heroes’ coming would no doubt spread quickly in the near future. “We could visit the markets later.”

“We will do more than visit,” I replied with giddiness. Aw, how I’d missed the sweet scent of commerce in the air. “We’ll peddle our wares.”

While I’d worked tirelessly on helping Snowdrift bounce back from its depressing spiral into poverty, the city was still far from a commercial hub. Opportunities were scarce and all resources were directed towards repairing public infrastructure.

Meanwhile, Walbourg clearly had nothing to envy from the merchant ports of the Riverland Federation. I’d learned long ago that the number of tongues spoken in a city’s markets was a good indicator of its prosperity. The fact I heard five of them meant traders from all of western Pangeal came here to do business. I was bound to stumble upon good deals.

“I admit I’m surprised to see so many foreign merchants,” I informed Vernisla. “I knew the Duchy was richer than northern Archfrost, but I thought other nations did not recognize its independence.”

“They don’t,” Vernisla conceded. “But since Walbourg stands between Archfrost and the Arcadian Freeholds, southern nations have no choice but to pass through the Duchy if they want to do commerce with the kingdom. The other way is through the Erebian mountains or by sea.”

“I see,” I replied. As always, politics bent to cold, harsh economic realities. “I assume the lack of royal taxes paid to Archfrost also loosened the pressure on those same traders’ purses.”

“You’re the Merchant. You know best.”

This prosperity explained why Walbourg was in no hurry to rejoin the rest of Archfrost: the Duchy could do well on its own so long as they kept the northern border secure. This might complicate the treaty’s signing.

Meanwhile, Mr. Fronan appeared less than impressed with what we saw. Our Druid looked at the newly built houses with sorrow. It didn’t take me long to realize that since he could understand plants, riding so close to deforested areas probably seemed like waltzing through a cemetery.

“Can you turn off your power?” I asked him with slight concern.

“I wish I could.” Mr. Fronan did his best to avert his eyes from the pines and flowers along the road. “I have heard of monks in the east who refuse to eat meat because they do not wish to kill animals. I wonder how many people would do the same if they could understand the beasts we consume.”

“Maybe,” I replied. It wouldn’t surprise me if the Ranger had become a vegetarian after gaining her power.

After traveling through the suburbs we crossed a bridge of white stones and entered the old town proper. Its streets were far better organized than the more chaotic new districts, and far less active. The air carried the scent of old books rather than pines. Cobblestones covered every speck of ground, while the houses were a tapestry of brick estates, white marble temples, and red sandstone fortifications.

Griselda graciously agreed to lend us Heroes a walled mansion near her home until the Generals-Estate; a home so close to the cathedral that we could hear its bells. A dozen guards protected its iron gates and the red brick courtyard behind them. A fountain adorned by finely trimmed edges and statues of the Four Artifacts stood before the mansion’s sturdy brick facade. It was quite the beautiful place, if ostentatious.

Too ostentatious.

After climbing down from Mudkeep, I noticed Soraseo studying the place with the sharp, thoughtful gaze of an experienced warrior. She was already considering how to establish a defensive perimeter.

“What do you think of this humble estate?” I asked her.

“Easy to find but difficult to attack.” Her distaste clearly showed on her face. “The iron gates are too quick to–” She quickly caught herself. “Too easy to climb. I would trade them for stone walls.”

I concurred. “Marika and I can build a few more on short notice.”

“An attack?” Mr. Fronan frowned in confusion. “Who would be mad enough to attack a fortified mansion in the middle of a city?”

Chastel was, when he massacred Mersie’s family. Thinking of her name alone filled my heart with melancholy. I wonder if she managed to track her target down.

“What the Knot of Wrath lacks in subtlety, Mr. Fronan, they more than make up for in fearlessness and brutality,” I said. “The men who helped kill your predecessor belonged to that branch of the organization. I wouldn’t mind if you could, say, plant a few ivy spies around the perimeter.”

“I see.” Mr. Fronan glanced at the hedges with interest. “I intended to stay at my company’s local office rather than this mansion, but if you need my assistance, I will do my best to help you.”

Only Vernisla wouldn’t be sticking with us. “Lady Griselda ordered me to assure her protection until the Generals-Estate, so I must stay at her side,” she warned us. “I will lend you a hundred men for your protection, and I shall fly to your aide if need be.” She chuckled to herself. “Though I do not think you will need any with Princess Mizukiya by your side.”

Soraseo shifted uncomfortably in place. “Please call me Soraseo.”

“As you wish,” Vernisla replied respectfully. “I suppose someone of your rank would want to travel unnoticed.”

Soraseo did not answer. From the look on her face, I suspected she didn’t wish to travel incognito as much as she disliked being reminded of what she had lost… or the crime she blamed herself for committing.

Perhaps I should use our time in Walbourg to encourage her to open up. I tried to give her her own space in the hopes that she would come out of her shell on her own, but I was beginning to think she might need a little coaxing.

After a short tour of the manor’s grounds the servants helped us settle inside. Our new lair proved as luxurious on the inside as it was on the outside, its corridors carpeted with soft Arcadian rugs and decorated with ebony wood. I ascended spiraling staircases and walked under the bright light of golden chandeliers until I reached my personal solar on the third floor. The living room alone matched the size of Alaire’s council room.

“Will milord require anything?” A butler asked me after placing my belongings on the ground.

“Quills and paper, please,” I replied. I had the feeling that I would be writing many letters this month. “You may leave me for now.”

The butler excused himself with a short bow and closed the door behind me, leaving me alone in my new apartment. I quickly set out to take a look around. I had to admit that Duchess Griselda did not do things halfway. The bed was large enough for three, the study was staffed to the brim with rare books, and the wardrobe would shame a Riverland noble.

Then I found her sitting behind a table near the balcony.

“Surprise!” Eris greeted me with a smile.

I knew my favorite nun was in the city, but I admit I didn’t expect to see her here. For a brief second, I found myself standing in place as I considered how to react.

“What’s wrong, handsome? Has the sight of me left you speechless?” Eris winked at me. “I didn’t remember you being so lovestruck with me.”

Her mischievous smile was meant to reassure me. It did the opposite. Now that I recalled Daltia’s smirk, I could no longer deny the uncanny resemblance between these two. The eye and hair color didn’t match, but the facial features…

Eris raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong, Robin?”

“I’m sulking,” I replied playfully as I sat in front of her. Now that the surprise had passed, I managed to hide my thoughts behind a facade of composure. “I knew we agreed on nothing serious, but it has been weeks since you last visited me.”

“Aww, did you miss me?” Eris let out a small sigh. “The feeling is mutual. Alas, I am swamped with work lately.”

That sounded halfway right. Her eyes did show dark rings. I looked at the table and noticed that she had poured us cups of a strange black liquid I did not recognize.

“What is this?” I asked after smelling the fumes from it. “It doesn’t look like tea.”

“A gift I brought back from a short trip to Irem. Since you treated me so well on our last date, I thought I should surprise you back.” She waved a hand at my cup. “Come on, try.”

I briefly wondered if the drink was poisoned, but if Eris wanted me dead she could simply teleport to my side in my sleep and slit my throat open. She could have thrown me from the airship on our last date. She could have done a thousand things and never did.

Cortaner and Mersie have rubbed off on me too much. I sipped the drink, a bitter flavor overwhelming my tongue. It wasn’t tea, far from it, but it wasn’t unpleasant. Not unpleasant at all.

“What’s this drink’s name?” I asked after taking another sip.

“Kahve, though most merchants sell it as ‘coffee’,” Eris explained. “It’s not too popular outside Irem yet, but I predict it will overtake tea now that the Seukaian embargo is causing prices to rise.”

I looked at the drink. I did feel a strange jolt of energy course through me when I consumed it. “I didn’t take you for the kind of woman to keep an eye on commercial trends.”

“I would be a poor Wanderer if I didn’t.” Eris looked at the courtyard beyond the window. My balcony offered us a splendid view of the city and its suburbs. “Between the tensions between Irem and the Fire Islands, the Reformist summit, the Druid dying on us, Archfrost, and the Shinkoku, I don’t have time for myself anymore. I keep teleporting from one side of the continent to the other.”

I chuckled. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

“Because I made my own time,” she replied with a mischievous smirk. “I couldn’t stay in the same city as my favorite Merchant without visiting him once.”

“I appreciate the thought.” I myself intended to visit her in due time. I guessed it would help us save time. “Mr. Fronan said you spoke very well of me.”

“Has he? Between us, I preferred his predecessor. The older a man grows, the blander he becomes.”

“I believe people call it wising up,” I mused.

“Some never do.” Eris let out a shrug. “Anyway, my dear Robin, how have things been on your side? Saved any princess lately?”

Soraseo had called Eris a master actor. Either she was so good I couldn’t tell a lie from the truth, or she was indeed completely clueless. I decided to play along for now.

“We failed to apprehend the Knot of Greed’s leader and stop another Blight,” I confessed. “But Roland is poised to retake the capital. We might avert a new civil war.”

“That’s good. We can’t afford another conflict right now, and I definitely can’t afford more work.” Eris crossed her legs. “Who led the Knot of Greed?”

I held her gaze without letting anything through. “Roland’s squire.”

“Ouch.” Eris winced. “Poor boy. As far as misery goes, he stands only behind Cortaner. I should go visit both.”

“I wouldn’t go anywhere near Cortaner,” I said. “He thinks you’ve betrayed us by delivering a Devil Coin to our enemies.”

I realized a long time ago that people reveal their true selves when under pressure. Much like how good architects subjected their constructions to stress tests in order to check if they would hold, delivering the right push could throw someone off-balance enough to exploit it.

Eris simply laughed. “Ah, Corty. A man so paranoid that he often stumbles on the truth while chasing ghosts.” Her brows furrowed slightly. “Don’t tell me you believe him?”

I shrugged and laid my trap. “Someone with our power could easily teleport a coin around with the right contract.”

“True. Put it in a purse and–” Eris’ smile faltered when she realized she had stepped on a snare. “Our power?”

I held her gaze, my face a pleasant mask, my heart a drum pounding in my chest. Eris remained silent, her hands around her cup. You could cut the tension between us with a knife.

“I am way too out of practice,” Eris said upon breaking the silence. “Or maybe you’re getting better at it?”

“Could be both,” I said before putting Dolganov’s Devil Coin on the table. The vile demonic skull on the surface glared at Eris. “Did you come to take this back?”

“I came to see you, Robin.” Eris glanced at the coin with disinterest. “As far as gifts go, I’ve seen prettier ones.”

“It’s yours if you want it. Though I’m not sure you could call it a gift.” Time to go for the throat. “Doesn’t it belong to you in the first place, am I wrong?”

I studied her face, searching for any hint of surprise or worse, aggression. True to Soraseo’s warning, Eris proved unreadable. I had years of experience dealing with liars. The worst of them would bluster or feign surprise; the best of them simply kept up the charade with such aplomb they caused the other party to doubt their own senses.

Eris neither denied nor confirmed my suspicions. Instead, she adjusted her robes and then searched inside her purse. I tensed up, half-expecting her to bring out a dagger or a firestone. Instead, she presented me with an enchanted pipe filled to the brim with a black herb.

“Want some?” she asked me with a calm, serene expression. “It’s dreamshade.”

I glanced at her fingers. Few would have noticed it, but she held onto the pipe a little too tightly. The way a nervous person would hide subtle shakes.

She’s afraid about how this conversation might turn out. It would fit with her offer. Dreamshade was a drug that helped calm the nerves. Apothecaries often recommended it for those who struggled to sleep. Can’t blame her. I’m a little frightened too.

“You clearly need it more than me,” I replied.

“Give it time,” Eris replied with none of the playfulness she showed earlier. She channeled essence through the pipe, which soon heated up on its own and released a blue smoke from its tip. “You’ll come around too.”

I remained silent, knowing she would try to fill the void. Which she did.

“You’ve met her, haven’t you?” Eris asked me as she brought the pipe to her lips. “The Devil of Greed.”

Her, I noted. Not me, not us. “I have.”

“This will take a while if you stick to two-word answers, Robin.” Eris blew a cloud of blue smoke into my face. It smelled sweet, like a good dream forgotten on the morrow. “I sensed the old mark activating, but I don’t know what you saw or did.”

It surprised me that she would admit to sensing anything at all, as it all but confirmed part of my accusations. I kept focusing on her body language. I detected signs of nervousness, but not the kind I would expect from a liar taken by surprise, no. Instead, she showed the quiet acceptance of a warrior facing a battle they knew would come one day.

It could be a trick, so I did not lower my guard. However, I suspected her reaction was genuine. She did lay the groundwork for today’s conversation. She simply didn’t expect it to happen so soon.

“A vision of her appeared to me during a battle,” I said calmly. “She came down from the heavens with pretty wings to purchase a soul.”

“Wings.” Eris scoffed, blue smoke floating out of her nostrils. “Did she wear my face?”

“Not quite, but there was a resemblance,” I confirmed. “I didn’t give it too much weight. If the Devil of Greed could manifest as a facsimile of the Goddess, she could easily mimic your manner to sow dissent among us. I had to confirm the truth through other evidence… using the breadcrumbs you left me.”

“The book I lent you,” Eris guessed. “The one compiling tales on the old Merchants.”

“I managed to translate parts of it.” I had time to read around a campfire lately. “One story held my attention in particular.”

Eris’ blank gaze turned sorrowful, even a little bit guilty. She took in a deep inhalation and fell into a deep silence.

“Once upon a time, there used to be a kingdom called Critias,” I recounted. “Its people were great, but their greed was greater. Its kings sought to conquer all that the sun touched through force of arms, until one day their armies stopped before an abbey whose treasury was said to overflow with gold.”

“Wealth,” Eris corrected me calmly. “The old Erebian word for ‘gold’ and ‘wealth’ are phonetically similar.”

“Sorry, I did my best to translate it accurately.” The fact she could tell this detail at all caught my attention. “Did you write that story?”

Eris nodded gravely. “In more ways than one.”

Her flirty, joyful demeanor was nowhere to be seen, replaced with a thoughtful scowl. Either she had dropped a mask she wore in pleasant company, or put on another to earn my sympathy. I couldn’t tell which yet, so I carried on with the story.

“The abbey was home to a witch of great power and cunning, who offered the king a deal: if the Kingdom of Critias would spare her home, she would give him his land’s weight in gold.” The more I spoke, the deeper Eris scowled. “The greedy men of Critias, who did not intend to follow through with their end of the bargain, foolishly accepted.”

“When dawn rose on their kingdom again, its enemies laid their eyes upon a gilded graveyard,” Eris finished with a deep sigh. “For all men and stone had turned into the purest gold.”

“It’s a cautionary tale, though I have my issues with it. A Merchant can’t turn a city to gold on their own.” Unless they possessed the Alchemist’s power too. “Neither could I find any historical records of a Kingdom of Critias. This leads me to assume this story, if factual, took place before the Sunderwar. A time during which the Arcane Abbey wouldn’t exist.”

“Men have worshiped idols since the beginning of their race, Robin.” Eris seized the Devil Coin with her free hand and let the sunlight reflect on its gilded outer shell. She gazed at it with what could pass for a look of remorse. “We all want to believe in a higher power that decides their destiny, whether it be an almighty Goddess, wealth, or luck.”

I remembered our discussion during our last date. She showed me the same thoughtful expression as back then, but somber, a little tired.

“Did people worship you once?” I asked her.

“Yes.” Eris snorted in disdain. “When fools want to get rich quickly, they start a religion.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I joined my hands together. “Now, tell me the truth. The entire truth.”

“I have never lied to you, Robin.” Eris avoided my gaze by looking back at the window. “Though I did keep details to myself.”

“Pretty important details,” I replied dryly. “What did you say again? That you keep everybody’s secrets? I suppose I should have guessed it included yours.”

“I am a complicated gal.” Eris put the coin back on the table, adjusted her position, and then locked eyes with me. It struck me how old they’d become in an instant. I no longer faced a playful and naughty nun, but a mature traveler who had wandered into very dark places. “Before I answer your questions, Robin, will you indulge two of my own?”

“Fair,” I replied calmly. I could give her a little concession. “Ask away.”

Eris stared at her reflection in the coffee. Her fair face had darkened into the most morose of scowls.

“Do you think there are crimes so great,” she whispered, so low I could barely hear her, “that they can never be atoned for?”

I squinted back at her. “You should ask the Priest instead of the Merchant.”

“I did.” Eris inhaled her dreamshade while glancing at the cathedral outside. “But I want to hear your answer.”

I pondered my answer for a moment. I could hardly relate to it. Unlike Cortaner or Soraseo, I didn’t blame myself for any crime. Neither was I the judging kind of person. However, Eris clearly wanted to hear my personal thoughts, so I could at least be honest.

“I am not the best place to discuss sins and forgiveness,” I replied after a short while. “However, if you have killed one thousand people, stop forever, and then save ten thousand lives… I would say your existence will have left a positive impact on the world.”

Eris chuckled mirthlessly. “Funny. That was my reasoning too.”

I watched her set the pipe aside and then grab her cup with both hands. She stared at her reflection for a second before taking a sip.

“Next and final question,” Eris said. “Why isn’t this cup poisoned?”

I snorted. “Why would it be?”

“I don’t know?” Eris smiled slightly at my nonchalance, though her eyes remained sharp and tense. “If I am truly the Devil of Greed, shouldn’t you try to restrain me before I take flight?”

“Ah, but that’s the thing.” I sipped from my cup, trying to put her at ease. I didn’t want her to think this would escalate into a fight. “I don’t think you are the Devil of Greed. Or at least, not anymore.”

“Oh?” Eris rested her head on her palm. “What makes you think that?”

“Well, first of all, a great many things wouldn’t make sense otherwise.” Eris had tried to dissuade me from bypassing my class’ anti-corruption safeguards, helped us fight the Knots, and offered assistance at every turn. Even a deep cover agent wouldn’t go so far to hide their allegiances. “I can’t imagine that the Fatebinder, the holder of the very Class meant to oppose the Demon Ancestors and who possesses more knowledge than all of us Heroes combined, wouldn’t have ferreted you out earlier.”

“Everyone makes mistakes, Robin,” Eris replied with a small sigh. “Even a Goddess.”

“But how can I explain yours then?” I retorted with the same tone. “You teleported in right after I triggered my mark’s safeguards, gave me a book with hints on your true identity, and left breadcrumbs about the truth in our conversations. Someone so experienced wouldn’t give hints unless they wanted to be discovered. You wanted me to figure out the truth by myself.”

She didn’t deny it. “I do not believe people benefit from being told the truth, Robin. It is the journey to obtain answers that teaches us to value them.”

I couldn’t disagree with her way of thinking. Months of purchasing skills taught me the difference between knowing something and understanding it.

“I had the misfortune of witnessing a demon’s birth,” I confessed. “The Devil of Greed purchased a man’s soul and emptied the body. She took the conscience, the mind, the will, leaving only the fool’s darkest desires behind to fill the husk and twist it into a fiend.”

Eris sipped from her cup without a word. By now, I was convinced she would neither fight nor flee. Her fingers were still trembling however.

“Which led me to draw a conclusion: that a human’s self can be fractioned.” Which explained why I could buy skills, memories, and even personality traits. “Our soul and the part of us that can create a demon are two parts of a whole. They can exist independently. One inside a Devil Coin, the other inside a body of flesh and blood.”

Eris’ sad smile reminded me of a tired teacher happy that a student had finally stumbled on the correct answer. “Interesting theory.”

“The demon usually takes over the body and the soul becomes trapped with the Devil of Greed inside her coins, but in your case, I suspect it is the opposite.” Though the reason behind it still escaped me. “And then, there’s a final piece of evidence I can’t ignore.”

“Let me guess.” Eris scratched at the Wanderer mark on her cheek. “My Class.”

“I’ve already failed to purchase and sell Classes. Even assuming someone can bear marks belonging to different sets at once, I can only see one way you might have earned yours.” I glanced at the coin-shaped golden tattoo on my hand. “The same way I gained mine.”

“Because it chose me.” Eris chuckled to herself and relaxed in her chair a little. “Congratulations, Robin. You figured it out.”

I smiled slightly, but did not lower my guard just yet. After all, she hadn’t confirmed much yet; she simply didn’t deny my points.

“Is Eris even your real name?”

Eris took a deep breath. I watched a thousand thoughts quickly flash in her eyes. I caught a glimpse of fear and hesitation. From the way she subtly shifted on her chair, I could tell she briefly considered teleporting away rather than answering me.

“Why haven’t you asked me to sell you back my ability to lie?” she suddenly asked me.

“Besides the fact I’ve faced people who could work around it?” I scoffed. “I figured that as your very good friend, I owed you the benefit of the doubt.”

Eris scoffed, then chuckled, and then laughed.

And I could tell it was all genuine.

“Are you serious?” she asked, giggling like a hyena. “This is your reason? Because we’re very close friends?”

“Well, yes?” I smirked back at her. “I mean, my last girlfriend turned out to be a professional killer. I would say I’m pretty open-minded as far as relationships go.”

“You sure set a low bar.” Eris shook her head and looked away; not because she wanted to hide anything this time, but simply because she couldn’t face me without laughing. “You’re impossible…”

I waited for her to calm down. While I put on the charm, I meant every word I said; and I could tell Eris knew it too. She finally eased up a bit.

Enough to return my trust.

“My full name,” she said, “is Daltia Eris Belarra.”

Her sentence hung in the air like a curse. The tension between us returned stronger than ever before, yet somehow, I felt no fear. In fact, I was somewhat relieved.

She’d finally decided to come clean.

“Or at least it was a thousand years ago,” Eris said as she slowly finished her coffee, “when the Witchcrafting Church took me in.”

“The Witchcrafting Church?” I’d never heard of that institution.

“The Arcane Abbey and the Cult of the Four Artifacts did not exist when the Goddess still walked the earth, nor was there a difference between priests and witchcrafters.” Eris set her cup aside. “As I said, Robin, I’ve never lied to you. My father was a priest and my mother a priestess. They simply conceived me a thousand years ago in very different times.”

That was a pretty big detail to omit. “I have to say, you don’t act like how I would expect a thousand-year-old person to.”

My comment seemed to amuse her. “Have you met any other thousand-year olds yet?”

I scoffed. Point taken. “I just can’t tell how much of your previous behavior was a mask.”

“None of it was. I am all of me.” Eris locked eyes with me. “I don’t wish you to spend centuries trapped at the bottom of a lake, Robin, but if you do, believe me: you’ll want to make up for old times once you get out, and you will stop caring about how others perceive you.”

So she did spend time trapped in the Lake of Greed. Part of the legend was true. Interesting. I didn’t think she was entirely truthful, however. She was definitively afraid I might reject her upon learning the truth.

“I still can’t believe you were brazen enough to use your middle name,” I said after shaking my head. “I can’t tell whether it was bold or mad.”

“Most people forget information they learned five minutes ago, so imagine a thousand years. I don’t think there’s anybody alive who remembers Bel’s surname besides our party.” Eris’ expression darkened again. “Even himself.”

“I assume you speak of Belgoroth?” I finished my coffee, the bitter drink leaving a lump of sugar at the bottom. “Were the two of you close?”

“We were friends. All seven of us.” Eris claimed back her pipe and inhaled some dreamshade. I noted her hand was no longer trembling. “Bel used to be the perfect knight, Robin. A chivalrous warrior who put Roland to shame. He was the last to lose his way.”

“And you were the first?” I guessed. Her grim silence was an answer in itself. “Did it start with Critias?”

“No, of course not. Do you think Bel woke up one day thinking he should burn down a kingdom to the ground?” Eris shrugged her shoulders, her eyes full of sorrow. “Corruption is a gradual process, Robin. It starts with little concessions that slowly build up into very big moral compromises. Critias was the culmination of a very long process; the moment when I decided that the world would be better with me in charge of it.”

“Then it started with those?” I pointed at the Devil Coin. “Is that why the safeguards triggered when I tried to seal a soul in an object? Because that was the first step you took off the right path?”

“I originally tried sealing souls into objects to save people I cared for from death,” Eris confirmed. The raw shame in her voice sounded genuine enough. “Greed isn’t about collecting wealth, Robin. Greed means to never let things go, even when they must. I bought my first souls out of necessity, but somewhere along the line I began purchasing them out of convenience.”

“Until life became just another commodity.” I supposed slavers probably operated on the same moral framework. Once a man could own another person, it became easier for him to degrade others. “How did the seven of you become the Demon Ancestors? I don’t think immortality was part of the original Hero package.”

“My experiments on souls taught me how to overcome death.” Eris played with the Devil Coin, flipping it between her fingers. “Do you know why Soulforged Adamantine is indestructible?”

“Because it was forged in a place sacred to the Four Artifacts?” I recounted.

“But why would that make an object unchanging?” Eris pushed, before telling me the truth. “The Four Artifacts helped the Goddess create the world. They are the physical avatars of the sun, the earth, the ocean… everything that makes up our reality. Objects of Soulforged Adamantine cannot be altered because their construction process turns them into the very incarnation of a concept.”

My heart skipped a beat as I figured it out. “The sins.”

Eris confirmed my hypothesis with a sharp, thoughtful nod. She handed me her pipe. I accepted it.  She’d been right. I did need it in the end.

“Bel’s sword, my coins… we each used a relic to tie our very souls to fundamental aspects of human nature,” Eris explained to me. “So long as mortals experience that emotion, the relics fueling our immortal life will remain unchanged.”

The pieces fell into place as I inhaled the sweet dreamshade. The source of the Demon Ancestors’ immortality was as simple as it was effective. They used the Merchant’s power to bind their souls to invulnerable objects. If a Soulforged Adamtantine relic was indeed inviolable, then not even the Heroes’ power could affect them.

I appreciated the dreamshade’s soothing effect as I mulled over the monumental task ahead of us. No wonder our predecessors resorted to sealing away the Demon Ancestors. If Belgoroth’s sword would continue to exist as long as anger and hatred did, nothing short of worldwide enlightenment or destruction would shatter it.

“The process works in reverse too,” Eris clarified. “The seven of us became living incarnations of mankind’s sins. For a time, I was greed. You should have seen how I looked back then, all golden and pretty.”

I couldn’t stop myself from teasing her. “I prefer you without wings.”

“Does my old self still carry a scroll around?” Eris covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. “I thought it would make me look smarter.”

“She did leave an impression.” The other Daltia was as ostentatious as this mansion. “Are you two still connected?”

“Somewhat. She exists as a disembodied consciousness inhabiting the Devil Coins. I can feel their presence or when my old mark triggers, and I believe she can catch glimpses of what I do.” Eris squinted at me. “Killing me won’t destroy her, Robin. Seriously, don’t try.”

“I didn’t intend to.” I assumed the Fatebinder would have already done it if it could work. “How did the two of you…”

“Split?” Eris took a long, deep breath. “This might sound strange to you, but seven centuries of solitary confinement is a long, long time to reflect on your mistakes.”

I thought back to the Lake of Greed we’d visited on our way to Walbourg. If it had indeed been Daltia’s resting place for seven-hundred years… I dared not imagine the impact it would have had on her psyché. Perhaps all the prayers channeled through the Sanctuary reached her heart buried underneath all the greed and ambition.

“The Devil the world wanted me to be and the person I’d become started to diverge, until one day, the seal keeping my body imprisoned broke and we split,” Eris continued. “I don’t remember everything. Some of my memories are still with my other self, not to mention my mark.”

Unfortunately, the demon half was the one who kept the corrupted Merchant Class.

Perhaps that was why the Wanderer’s mark chose Eris. I remembered hearing once that it represented the beginning of a new journey in Fatebinding readings. A fresh new start.

“Why are you the only one to split from your inner demon?” I asked, before quickly realizing I’d asked the wrong question. “Are you the only one to have done so?”

I knew better than to expect good news on that front, so Eris’ answer did not surprise me. “As far as I know, I’m the only one who decided to turn my life around. I suppose I’m the exception that proves the rule.”

“Why?” I asked. “Is it because of their connection to their sins?

“If I could change, so can they. The reason they haven’t is much simpler, Robin.” Eris pointed at my mark. “Would you surrender your Class?”

“No,” I conceded. And I only possessed a fraction of the power she once wielded. Come to think of it, it must have taken extraordinary willpower to even consider it.

“Do you believe someone nicknamed the Curse of Pride would consider being wrong?” Eris teased me before quickly regaining her composure. “You’ve met Bel. Centuries of watching human atrocities have only embittered him.”

And now, it fell on us to stop him.

The person in front of me helped shatter the world. She had killed thousands, if not millions, collecting their souls for nefarious purposes. I now understood the reason behind her earlier questions; there might be some crimes no amount of atonement could make up for.

But if a divine mark decided to select her as a Hero again and grant another chance, who was I to deny a chance at redemption? I couldn’t be certain whether or not Eris indeed told me the entire truth, and I still had many, many more questions to ask her… but I could at least grant her the benefit of the doubt.

“Why?” I finally asked. Something bothered me with her tale. “Why did you leave hints to your true identity for me to figure out? Wouldn’t it have been easier to start anew if you kept it all for yourself?”

“Because I have a crush on you?” Eris smiled sadly. “More seriously… I can’t tell.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Can’t, or won’t?”

“Stop teasing me, Robin. It’s more amusing when I do it.” Eris boldly snatched the pipe of my lips. “If I had to say… as fellow Merchants, I hoped we could get along. It’s not easy to keep secrets all the time.”

“So you tried to break the news in a way that wouldn’t make me hate you on sight?” I couldn’t help but smile. I hadn’t expected that answer. “There are easier ways to win my heart.”

“Give me a break, Robin. I am seven hundred years out of practice.” Eris shifted in her seat. “Where does that leave us now?”

I was asking myself the exact same question.

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Next Chapter 

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A/N: phew, I've been planning that twist since the very first chapter. I'm quite happy to finally put it to text. I wonder how many of you saw it coming, or how it will change your opinion of Eris going forward.