The main market street of Alethea was a river of noise, color, and life under the golden morning sun. Merchants hawked everything from shimmering elven silks to dwarven-forged nails, their voices creating a chaotic symphony. The air was thick with the scent of spiced meats, fresh bread, and the faint, magical ozone of enchanted trinkets.
Moving through the crowd with a quiet grace that parted the sea of people was Lady Sofia. Dressed in simple but fine clothes, she offered soft smiles to the vendors, her gentle demeanor a stark contrast to the two stern, armored guards who flanked her. Beside her, walking with a slight stiffness, was her son Kent. A fresh bandage was visible beneath his tunic, a reminder of his recent duel. He clutched a small wicker basket, his eyes fixed on the cobblestones, trying to block out the whispers that followed them like ghosts.
*"That's the half-commoner wife, isn't it?"*
*"And the boy... they say he can barely light a candle with his mana. A pity, with such a father."*
Kent's jaw tightened, but a gentle touch on his shoulder from his mother stopped the tension from rising.
"Don't mind them, Kent," Sofia said, her voice a calming balm. "Focus on the fruit. You always liked the red apples from the western valleys, didn't you?"
She pointed to a vibrant pile. Kent nodded, forcing a small, grateful smile for her sake.
Across the bustling street, a different scene unfolded. A lacquered carriage bearing the hawk crest of House Luthor pulled to a stop. The door opened, and Lady Alicia stepped out, her casual day dress still costing more than a merchant's monthly earnings. Her two bodyguards took up positions immediately.
And then there was Ivan. He stumbled out after her, his head spinning as he tried to take in every sight at once.
"Woahhh! They've got glowing potions just... sitting on a table! And is that a real, actual sword for sale? Can I—"
"Will you keep your voice down!" Alicia snapped, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
"Stop gawking like a village simpleton! People are staring. You're making *me* look poor!"
She straightened her dress, trying to reclaim some dignity.
Fate, however, often prefers chaos to dignity.
As Kent bent down to pick up a bright red apple that had rolled from a stall, Ivan—who had stepped back in awe from a baker's stall, accidentally dropping the sweet roll he'd just bought—spun around to chase it. He wasn't looking where he was going.
*Thud!*
The two boys collided, tumbling into a heap on the dusty cobblestones.
"I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking!" Ivan blurted out, scrambling to his knees.
Kent, who had managed to protect the apple in the fall, blinked up at the frantic boy. He saw simple, sturdy clothes, a face full of genuine apology, and most importantly, eyes that held no judgment, no pity, and no sense of superiority. This was no noble.
"You're... not from a noble house?" Kent asked, his voice quiet with surprise.
Ivan let out a relieved laugh, rubbing the back of his head.
"Hah, you noticed right away? Yeah, I guess I stick out like a sore thumb here. I'm from a little village to the south. Name's Ivan."
The simple introduction hung in the air. In that moment, despite coming from opposite ends of the empire's social ladder, they recognized a shared spirit. Both were outsiders, both carried the weight of other people's expectations and dismissals.
The commotion drew the attention of their companions. Lady Sofia turned with a soft gasp of concern. "Kent, are you alright?"
Alicia stormed over, her hands on her hips.
"Ivan!! What are you doing on the ground? Get up this instant! And stop fraternizing with strangers!" she demanded, though her eyes flickered with curiosity toward the clearly noble-born Kent and his mother.
The guards from both parties stiffened, hands drifting toward their weapons, unsure if this was a threat or merely an embarrassing incident.
But Kent and Ivan were already helping each other to their feet, a faint, understanding smile passing between them. It was a small moment, a clumsy accident in a crowded street, but it was real.
Alicia's eyes widened as she took a closer look at the boy standing beside the gentlewoman. Her sharp, noble-trained instincts kicked in, categorizing and judging in an instant. She leaned toward Ivan, her voice a low, disapproving whisper.
Alicia (frowning): "Wait… I recognize him. That's Kent. The son of Lady Sofia—the Duke's… half-commoner wife."
The words were spoken with the casual prejudice ingrained in her since childhood, a simple statement of what she believed to be a degrading fact.
The effect was immediate. Lady Sofia's gentle smile trembled. She placed a protective hand on Kent's shoulder, her voice barely audible.
Sofia (softly): "Come, Kent. Let's go."
Kent lowered his head, the familiar hot pricks of shame needling his chest. He was used to this retreat, this silent acknowledgment of his "lesser" status. But before he could take a step—
—Ivan's voice, loud, clear, and utterly confused, cut through the market buzz.
"Half-blood? Full-blood? Who cares?!"
The statement was so blunt, so genuinely perplexed, that everyone froze. Even the guards blinked in shock, their hands falling away from their weapons.
Ivan, completely oblivious to the social earthquake he was causing, pointed a thumb at Alicia, a grin spreading across his face As ivan speak"
"I'm a full-blown, hundred-percent commoner! And you let me stay in your fancy mansion, eat your food, and even taught me how to use, like, twelve different forks at dinner! It was confusing!"
He then turned and gave Kent a hearty, playful slap on the back that made the noble boy jolt in surprise. Ivan smiling, his eyes bright with sincerity
"So why judge them? We're all just people trying to figure out which fork to use for the salad, right?"
Alicia's lips parted, but no sharp retort came. She wanted to snap at him, to put him in his place, but his simple, illogical honesty struck a chord deep within her. The walls of her upbringing cracked slightly.
Alicia thinking, frowning *"…He's right. Why… why do I care so much? What does it actually change?"*
For the first time, the proud noble girl was rendered silent by a commoner's truth.
Ivan, now beaming, turned back to Sofia and Kent. He attempted a bow, something he'd probably read about, resulting in an awkward but endearing gesture.
Ivan: "It's an honor to meet you, my lady."
Then, his excitement could no longer be contained. He pointed at Kent dramatically, his voice rising with pure, unadulterated awe.
"And YOU—! Your father is Duke Edgar! One of the legendary FOUR HEROES!!!"
He grabbed Kent's shoulders, not with aggression, but with the excitement of a fan meeting his idol.
"Do you have any idea how unbelievably cool that is?! Your dad stood against the Dragon Lord! He helped found this entire empire! The stories… I've read all the stories!"
Kent was utterly thrown. He was used to hands laid on him in mockery or violence. He was used to his lineage being a source of pressure or a reason for comparison. But this? This was joy. This was celebration. For the first time, someone saw his father's legacy not as a shadow he had to escape, but as something wondrous.
Kent's lips quivered. The weight of shame seemed to lift, replaced by a fragile, unfamiliar feeling. Slowly, tentatively, a real smile touched his lips.
Kent softly"…Thank you."
Beside him, Lady Sofia brought a hand to her mouth, her eyes welling with tears. She had spent a lifetime shielding her son from scorn and sneers. And in one clumsy, heartfelt moment, this commoner boy from the south had given her son a gift she never could: pure, unbiased admiration.
In the middle of the marketplace, surrounded by the judging eyes of the capital, the two boys stood together. One born at the pinnacle of society but treated as an outsider, the other a true outsider daring to dream of reaching that pinnacle.
Fate had not just let them cross paths; it had sent Ivan to shatter the cage around Kent. And a friendship that would defy the very foundations of the Lumenix Empire had just begun.
***