The city of Arkaris was a place of constant motion, where the streets bustled with merchants hawking their wares, nobles paraded through the market square in their finery, and the flickering glow of magical energy seeped through every corner of existence. Magic was not just an art here; it was a way of life, a force that governed everything from the simplest of spells to the grandest feats of power.
Among the grand structures and arcane enchantments, there was a man who stood apart. Lucian Vale. He was an enigma, his presence barely noticeable in a world dominated by magic and politics. Yet in the shadows, he was a figure of immense power, a broker of power, and a master of the most coveted skill in the city—Skill Lending.
Lucian had no true identity, no fixed form, no family name that tied him to a legacy. He existed in the margins, in the in-between spaces where power flowed but was never truly owned by anyone. His business was simple: he lent his vast array of skills to those desperate enough to seek him out, but at a steep price. Ten percent interest, compounded daily. A debt that could never truly be repaid.
In the dimly lit room of his office, Lucian sat behind a sturdy oak desk, his eyes tracing the intricate patterns of magical energy that swirled outside his window. The city of Arkaris was alive with possibility. It was a city built on trade, secrets, and power. And Lucian had mastered all three.
His room was sparse—bare walls, no unnecessary decorations—but the air around him hummed with a quiet intensity. It was a room designed for one purpose: to broker deals, to weave fates, and to lend power where it was most desired.
Today, like so many days before, the door to his office creaked open, and a figure stepped inside. A merchant, by the looks of him, disheveled and anxious. His face was pale, his clothes slightly torn, and there was a nervous energy about him that Lucian could sense even before he spoke.
"I—I've heard whispers of you," the merchant stammered, his voice wavering. "That you... that you can offer help, that you can lend skills. Please, I need it. My business is failing, my competitors are too strong. I need something more—something to give me the edge. Whatever the price is, I'll pay it."
Lucian did not immediately respond. Instead, he studied the man before him, his eyes sharp and calculating. This merchant, like so many others, sought power. But what kind of power did he need? What skill could Lucian lend him that would tip the balance in his favor? There was no lack of requests in the city, but Lucian was selective. He didn't lend his skills lightly, for they were a currency that could not be easily reclaimed.
"You're desperate," Lucian said calmly, his voice like a whisper that cut through the tension in the room. "I can see it in your eyes. But desperation is not a reason for me to act. I need to know exactly what you want before I make a deal."
The merchant swallowed hard, his throat dry. "I—I trade in rare magical artifacts," he explained, his hands trembling slightly. "But there are rivals, powerful rivals, and they always seem to have the upper hand. I need a skill—something that will let me read my competitors, understand their weaknesses. Something that will help me negotiate with them. Something that will let me win, no matter the price."
Lucian's lips curled into the faintest of smiles. A negotiator, then. It wasn't the most difficult request, but it was a useful one. "A negotiator's edge, I presume?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.
"Yes," the merchant replied quickly. "A skill that will let me understand what others are thinking, what they truly want. A way to outsmart them."
Lucian leaned back in his chair, folding his hands together. He considered the request carefully. This man wasn't asking for something outlandish—he was asking for a tool. A skill. A way to tip the scales in his favor. It was a simple transaction, but one that carried weight.
"I can lend you the skill you seek," Lucian said at last, his voice steady. "But there is a price, as there always is."
The merchant's face faltered, his eyes darting to the door as if considering escape. But desperation clung to him like a shadow, and he stayed rooted to the spot.
"How much?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Lucian's smile was devoid of warmth. "Ten percent interest, compounded daily. You will owe me for as long as you possess the skill. The longer you hold it, the more you owe. A debt that will never truly be repaid in full."
The merchant's heart skipped a beat. Ten percent daily. It was a heavy price to pay, but he had no other choice. His rivals were closing in, and he had nothing left to lose. He could feel the weight of the decision settling upon him, the sting of inevitability in his chest.
"I'll accept it," he said, his voice hoarse. "I'll pay it. Please, just give me the skill."
Lucian's eyes glinted with a dangerous light. "Very well," he said. "I will lend you the skill of Enhanced Negotiation. It will allow you to read the emotions, desires, and intentions of others with precision. You will be able to make deals, manipulate situations, and outmaneuver your competitors."
He extended his hand, his fingers glowing with a faint ethereal light. A pulse of energy shot from his fingertips and flowed into the merchant's body, a silent promise of power exchanged. The merchant staggered back as the skill settled inside him, a foreign presence now embedded within his mind. He could feel it—a new clarity, a heightened awareness of everything around him.
The transaction had been made.
"You now owe me," Lucian said, his tone cold. "Do not forget the terms of our agreement. The debt will grow with each passing day."
The merchant nodded quickly, his face a mixture of awe and dread. He could feel the power coursing through him, the knowledge and understanding of others that would give him the advantage he so desperately craved. He turned to leave, but Lucian's voice stopped him.
"Remember," Lucian said softly, "no one gets something for nothing. Not even in a city like Arkaris."
As the merchant hurried out of the room, Lucian remained seated, his eyes glinting with calculation. This was just the beginning. The first of many transactions. The first step toward his ultimate goal.
Lucian Vale was no mere broker. He was a force unto himself, a man who would ascend to heights no one else dared to dream. And he would make sure that no one would ever forget the price of power
End of Chapter 1.