Lucian slipped past the massive front doors of the mansion and strolled through the vast garden, decorated with neatly trimmed trees of various shapes and a central fountain. Knights and gardeners bowed as he passed, and soon he reached the main gate.
Just to the right of the gate, a row of carriages stood waiting, each bearing the Merrick crest—a proud, roaring lion.
The driver noticed him at once and bowed.
"Where to, my lord?"
"To the city," Lucian replied.
"The usual, then." The man nodded, opening the carriage door for him.
Lucian climbed inside and leaned back as the carriage began its steady roll down the road. As always, three knights rode alongside on horseback.
What a peaceful life, he thought.
The kingdom certainly deserved it, especially after a bloody war that had raged for centuries. He remembered his days at the academy and the tragedies that followed.
Though really, I didn't do anything.
Lucian had always stood back while others fought, watching as they carried out their duties and shed blood for the kingdom. He had no special powers to protect himself and no burning desire to fight.
Swordsmanship? He didn't know the first thing.
Magic? He could spark a flame to light firewood, and that was about it.
Still, curiosity had pushed him to follow the great figures of the war, watching them carve their names into history—while he remained powerless. Powerless even to save his younger sister when the time came.
Lucian shook his head, trying to clear away those memories.
The carriage came to a stop, and the driver called, "We are here, my lord."
Lucian stepped out, nodded to the driver, and set off. The three knights stayed with the carriage as usual. His escort is for the main road travels and for formalities only.
The city of Arden lay before him, built in a ring around the royal castle at its center. Towering marble spires gleamed in the sunlight, decorated with statues and carvings that spoke of centuries of history.
The outskirts of the city were home to commoners, shopkeepers, and tradesmen, while the inner districts housed nobles except the Four dukedoms stood at edges of the kingdom. Merrick in the south, Snowden in the north, Ander in the east, and Ashford in the west. Ruling over the four sides of the kingdom for the king.
Lucian walked through the crowded streets, passing familiar faces and strangers alike. Merchants hawked their goods, children played, and families enjoyed their lives together. But what drew his eye most was the mingling of races.
Once unthinkable, humans, elves, dwarves, and even demons now walked side by side. Not always peacefully, but at least together.
His first stop was a shabby weapon shop named Brute's Hammer. He pushed inside, rang the counter bell, and waited.
Silence.
Lucian sighed. "Is he drunk again?"
He rang again, and finally a gruff voice called from the back.
"Comin', comin'!"
A dwarf appeared, black-haired with a beard so long it nearly brushed the floor.
"Ah, it's you, lad."
"Just doing my rounds. How are you, Derek?" Lucian asked.
The dwarf shrugged. "The usual. Half the people treat us fine, the other half look at us like monsters."
"Give it some time. Everyone will come around," Lucian said, offering encouragement.
"I hope so." Derek paused. "That all? Or did your family need some orders?"
"No, that's all. Just remember, the Merricks are here if you ever need support. You know where we stand on this whole race business."
Derek studied him for a moment before nodding. "See you around, lad."
Lucian left the shop and made for his second destination. His duty today was simple: ensure no new rifts had opened between races
At least, no bigger ones.
His father shared the king's vision—to uphold the fragile treaty for as long as possible.
Lucian soon stopped before a stone building entwined with roots. Inside was an elven prayer ground. At its center grew a massive tree, so tall it had burst through the roof a year ago, forcing the builders to leave it open to the sky.
As Lucian admired the sight, a soft voice greeted him.
"Oh, you're here."
A beautiful elf stood nearby, her long green hair blending as though it were part of the tree itself.
"Elaida," Lucian said, nodding.
"This is your third visit this week. I assume you've come with the same questions?"
He nodded again.
"Nothing has changed," she said sadly. "The other races refuse to step onto this ground."
"Well… it is a racial prayer site. Of course they wouldn't be interested," Lucian reasoned.
"Even for mixed-race marriages? When we want to bless a union, the other partners always cause trouble.
"…."
"We've also found… unpleasant things left outside. Garbage. Drunkards. Even—"
"Alright, alright, Elaida." Lucian raised a hand. "I'll report it to the duke. You can rest easy."
She hesitated, then nodded. "I'm glad at least you come. I'll return to my prayers now."
Lucian gave the tree one last look before heading out.
His final stop was… less dignified. He slipped into a dark alley and stopped in front of a building lit with crimson lanterns—a pleasure house, run by demons.
Lucian sighed. He didn't want to go in, but he had no choice. Maintaining contact with all races was part of his task. That was why he had chosen allies like Derek the blacksmith and Elaida the priestess—people who engaged with other races often.
But his first demon acquaintance had turned out to be a prostitute. Now he was stuck collecting information from a brothel.
At least the place yields useful intel, he admitted. Otherwise, he would've changed contacts long ago.
Resigned, Lucian pushed the door open and stepped inside.