Fate's Forgotten Trickster

The Merchant Lord's Hidden Dealings

The night air was crisp against Noctis's skin as he stood on the balcony, the din of noble laughter and clinking glasses muffled behind him. The grand ballroom of House Valencourt was a glittering spectacle of wealth and power, but here, in the cool night air, was where the true conversations happened.

Beside him stood Lord Augustus Lorne, a merchant-turned-noble whose wealth was nearly unparalleled among the lower aristocracy. Unlike the landed nobility who inherited their status, Lorne had built his fortune through trade, cunning, and underground dealings whispered of but never proven.

He was dangerous, not because of brute strength, but because he understood the art of power in its most fluid form—commerce.

Noctis studied him, noting the slight smirk on his lips as he swirled his wine, his gold-threaded attire glinting under the moonlight.

"You're a quiet one, Lord Umbrael," Lorne mused, breaking the silence. "A rare trait among our kind."

Noctis gave him a small, polite smile.

"One learns more by listening than speaking, my lord."

Lorne chuckled, tilting his glass slightly in a mock toast. "Spoken like a true predator."

A compliment.

"Then perhaps I should be careful around you," Lorne continued, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Who knows what you might overhear?"

"Perhaps," Noctis mused, keeping his tone light. "Or perhaps I might learn something worth trading."

A pause.

The playful air around them shifted.

Lorne's expression flickered with something deeper—interest.

This was what Noctis had wanted. A lure placed, a hook ready to set.

Lorne leaned slightly closer, his voice lowering.

"Tell me, Lord Umbrael… have you ever heard of artifacts the Emperor himself fears?"

Noctis tilted his head.

"Artifacts? Feared by the Emperor?" His tone was curious but not overly eager. He knew better than to show too much interest too soon.

Lorne's lips curled.

"Some objects are so powerful," he murmured, "they were erased from history. But if one knows where to look… they can still be found."

Noctis took a slow sip of his wine.

"And I assume, Lord Lorne, that you are one of those who knows where to look?"

Lorne chuckled, running a gloved hand along the rim of his goblet.

"Let's just say… I know the right people."

Noctis let the silence stretch between them.

This was a delicate game. Push too hard, and Lorne would retreat. Show too little interest, and the conversation would shift elsewhere.

"Knowledge is a dangerous currency," Noctis said finally. "Those who trade in it often find themselves with shorter lifespans."

Lorne exhaled a soft laugh. "A fair point. But some things are worth the risk, wouldn't you agree?"

Noctis tapped a finger against the stem of his glass.

"That depends on the prize."

Lorne's gaze darkened slightly, the merchant's shrewd mind evaluating his words. Then, after a pause, he spoke again.

"There's a reason why some artifacts were erased from history, Lord Umbrael. Not because they were lost, but because they were deemed… too dangerous to exist."

Noctis felt a slow ripple of intrigue crawl up his spine.

"And yet, here you are, implying they still do."

"Indeed." Lorne smirked. "And, my young lord, I have reason to believe one such artifact is much closer than the world realizes."

Noctis's fingers curled slightly around his goblet.

"Closer? How so?"

Lorne leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper.

"The Emperor may rule the empire, but even he fears the remnants of the old world." His eyes gleamed. "Tell me, Lord Umbrael… have you ever heard of the Relics of the Forgotten Gods?"

The name was unfamiliar, but Noctis concealed his reaction with a neutral smile.

"I cannot say I have."

"Not surprising," Lorne mused, "considering the Empire has spent centuries ensuring no one does. But," his voice dipped lower, "there are whispers, old records kept in hidden places. Stories of artifacts that could shake the very foundations of power. And… a few surviving pieces."

Noctis feigned a sip of his wine, using the motion to mask his deepening interest.

"You speak as if you've seen one."

Lorne's lips parted slightly, as if weighing his next words. Then, with a slow smile, he answered,

"I've held one."

Noctis masked his surprise, keeping his expression unreadable.

"A bold claim, my lord."

Lorne chuckled, amused. "Oh, I have no need for idle boasts, Lord Umbrael. But I see you are a man who appreciates the finer truths of our world. And so, I offer you this—"

He leaned back slightly, gaze sharp.

"A trade."

Noctis set his goblet down on the marble railing. "What kind of trade?"

"I know of a piece—a fragment of something greater. Something the Emperor himself would burn cities to retrieve. But knowledge of such things is… dangerous." Lorne smiled. "And dangerous knowledge requires an exchange of equal weight."

"And what is it you seek, Lord Lorne?"

Lorne studied him for a moment before replying,

"I seek the true power structure of the noble houses. Not just their masks—but their true alliances. Their betrayals. Their weaknesses."

Noctis's mind sharpened.

This was no ordinary request.

Lorne wasn't merely a merchant—he was a man with his own agenda, one that stretched beyond mere profit.

"You wish to see beyond the illusions," Noctis murmured.

"As do you, I suspect." Lorne's smirk widened.

For the first time that night, Noctis allowed himself a genuine smile.

"Then, perhaps, we should talk further."

Another thread to pull. Another game to play.

And Noctis was more than ready.