The scent of leather and spices filled the air as Kael tightened the last strap on his family's weathered trade cart. The old wooden structure creaked under the weight of barrels, sacks of dried herbs, and bundles of carefully folded textiles. To anyone else, it might have seemed like a modest collection of goods, but to Kael, it was the start of a dream.
The market square of Draymoor buzzed with activity. Merchants haggled over prices, their voices competing with the clanging of blacksmiths' hammers and the bleating of goats. Kael had grown up here, in the shadow of his father's modest trade, watching caravans loaded with exotic goods arrive from distant lands. Now, for the first time, he would join them—not as an observer, but as a merchant in his own right.
His mother stood nearby, her hands wringing the edge of her apron.
"Kael, are you sure about this? The roads are dangerous, and you've never been beyond the borders of Draymoor."
Kael turned to her with a determined smile.
"I'll be fine, Mother. I've learned everything Father taught me. I know the trade routes, the costs, and the dangers. Besides, I'll only be heading to Orenvale. It's not far."
Her expression softened, though her worry lingered.
"Your father would be proud. Just... don't forget where you come from, and always trade with integrity."
"I won't," Kael promised. He hugged her tightly, feeling the weight of her fears as much as the weight of his own ambitions.
With the cart secured, Kael climbed into the driver's seat, the reins of his mule in hand. He took one last look at the town square, his home for all sixteen years of his life. The familiar faces, the cobblestone streets, and the smoky aroma of the baker's oven were all part of his past now.
"Goodbye, Draymoor," he whispered. The mule brayed softly, as if in agreement.
The journey to Orenvale was a small step compared to the grand visions Kael harbored—a life of travel, discovery, and trade across the nine continents of Aetherion. But every great journey began with a single step.
The dirt road stretched ahead, bordered by sprawling fields and dense forests. The sun was high, and the air was crisp. Kael felt the thrill of freedom coursing through him. He imagined the adventures awaiting him: bustling ports, grand markets, and the mysteries of distant lands.
Yet, as he rounded the first bend, he encountered his first challenge. A lone figure stood in the middle of the road, cloaked in a dark, tattered robe. Beside him, a small cart lay overturned, its contents scattered across the ground.
Kael pulled his mule to a halt and eyed the figure warily.
"Are you in need of help?" he called out.
The figure turned slowly, their face shadowed beneath the hood.
"That depends," came the low reply, "on whether you're here to trade... or to take."
Kael's grip tightened on the reins, his heart pounding. He had barely begun his journey, and already, he was faced with a decision that could define the merchant—and the man—he would become.