The banners of the noble estates fluttered high above the city, a constant reminder of a world Aiden had only glimpsed from afar. But now, for the first time, that world began to whisper his name.
It started with small talk in the taverns near the hill. Servants spoke of a boy from the slums whose sacks of grain appeared when others were empty. Rumors twisted as they spread: some said he could turn copper into gold; others whispered that his men were more than orphans—they were shadows who struck like wolves.
Lady Selene, the heiress of House Veyra, did not hear these stories directly. But her steward, a cautious man named Tharen, did. And Tharen reported them in hushed tones to the lady of the house over wine and evening candles.
"A ghost, my lady," he said, eyes narrowed. "They say he appears when the markets are empty, and vanishes when men try to confront him. Some say he runs the slums with an army of children."
Selene's brow arched. "Children?"
"Clever ones," Tharen replied. "And dangerous if underestimated. The merchants are uneasy. They whisper that this boy could grow… influential."
Selene sipped her wine, thoughtful. "And influence in the slums matters to us how?"
"Everything," Tharen said. "Control the lower city, and you control the flow of goods, the rumors, even the work of those who serve the merchants and tradesmen. If this ghost rises… he could disrupt more than just the markets."
At that, Selene set her glass down. "Then he is worth watching. Learn his name, find his movements. And—" she paused, eyes gleaming with quiet curiosity, "—see if he has the wit to reach beyond the shadows."
Meanwhile, down in the slums, Aiden was unaware that the seeds of attention had begun to bloom. He counted gold by candlelight, his boys sleeping in the corners, unaware that whispers of his clever trades were already climbing the hill toward the highest estates.
The pendant at his chest pulsed faintly, as if sensing the stirrings of fate. Aiden did not yet know who would come first—merchant, noble, or rival—but he knew this: the game had widened.
And the ghost would not flee.
He would rise.