The atmosphere was suddenly charged with the crackling of fire and the sharp howls of the wind, accentuating the bleakness of the surroundings. In the center of a fiery circle stood a figure, flames swirling around him. He was upright, bathed in the glow of the fire, which revealed his pale skin speckled with freckles, and his hazel green eyes radiated a fierce determination. His ginger hair was tousled by the strong winds, and a scruffy, unkempt beard framed his face. 

Appearing to be in his twenties, he wore ragged clothing that resembled a prisoner's garb; his pants were worn and tattered, mirroring the state of his shirt. Shackles were still fastened to his wrists and ankles, and a burn scar marred the right side of his face. As he gestured with his hand, the flames around him hissed and receded. He looked at his hand, then up at the sky, a smile breaking across his face as he closed his eyes, relishing the invigorating breeze of newfound freedom. He reflected, "I must remember to thank Asukem for this freedom the next time I encounter him." This man was Balzamir Smith, seemingly having materialized from thin air, having escaped his confinement.

Balzamir surveyed his surroundings and realized he was utterly isolated, yet a smirk crossed his face as he shook his head, still struggling to believe in his newfound freedom. To his left, he noticed nothing but swirling dust, a few sparse plants, and towering mountain walls flanking him. A glance to the right revealed the same desolate scene. The chilly breeze sent a shiver down his spine, and the wind's howling reverberated through the canyon-like walls, stirring up dust that coated his lips and left a gritty taste when he licked them. The air was tainted with the faint odor of decaying animals, but it was not strong enough to disturb his senses.

A sudden clamor of voices accompanied by the sound of a wagon and its wheels striking the ground reverberated through the walls. Balzamir's eyes narrowed, his mind conjuring fears that his people had already tracked him down. As the wagons approached, he steeled himself for confrontation, determined not to be captured again. Flames flickered at his fingertips, ready to unleash a spell against anyone who posed a threat. His heels pressed firmly into the dirt, he was prepared to demonstrate to the nobles what he was truly capable of. Disturbing and harsh images flashed through his mind as the noise intensified, reminding him of the injustices he had faced. He was finally revealing his noble side, but only to confront those who had wronged him.

As the wagons approached, a surge of anger and rage filled his heart, and a smirk crept onto his face as he envisioned the torment he would inflict on the nobles who had wronged him. Balzamir was a firm believer in the principle of retribution. Flames flickered to life in his hands at the first glimpse of the wagon and its driver, but he paused, powering down his spell when he realized it was not a noble caravan. Instead, the occupants were small in stature, their faces obscured by hoods and masks, revealing only their eyes. With a sigh of relief, Balzamir exclaimed, "Thank the Great Divines, they are merely Goomi."

 Balzamir had a deep familiarity with the Goomi, a race of traveling merchants drawn to knowledge and rare artifacts. He understood that they were part of a lineage that had lost its former charm, being cousins to the Dwarves, who had long since disappeared from Rikros, just like the dragons. Eagerly, Balzamir waved to the caravan driver, but his enthusiasm dimmed when he noticed the driver lifting a nearby crossbow as he halted. The driver, looking bewildered, asked, "Can I help you?" He assessed Balzamir from top to bottom and continued, "What happened to you? Did your prison wagon leave you behind?"

Balzamir shook his head firmly as he replied, "Not a prison wagon, my good man." The driver's eyes widened in surprise as he observed, "Oh! By the wisdom of the ancients! You were a slave!" Balzamir acknowledged with a nod. The driver gestured to his seat, saying, "Come on up, you unfortunate soul. I’ll take you to the nearest town, but you might want to remove that extra jewelry." He pointed at the shackles binding Balzamir's wrists and ankles, then produced a key and handed it to him. Balzamir grinned and remarked, "That's why I appreciate you, Goomi; always prepared." He accepted the key and freed himself from the shackles, but then inquired, "Do you have something to cover my face as well? My scar would give me away." The driver nodded in response, saying, "Sure, but I’ll give it to you when we stop at an oasis." Balzamir agreed with a nod, resting his feet and closing his eyes for a moment while whistling a tune.

The driver wore a sly grin beneath his disguise as he glanced at Balzamir, particularly at the scar that marked his face. Out of nowhere, he asked, "Is it true?" Balzamir halted his whistling, opening his eyes to regard the driver with a worried expression. "What do you mean by that?" he replied. The driver cracked the reins of his Emus, letting out a chuckle before saying, "That you set your family ablaze, Balzamir." Balzamir's posture stiffened, his face reflecting disbelief as he responded, "H-how did you hear about that?" The driver laughed heartily, saying, "Come on, Balzamir, we’re Goomi; we deal in secrets. But rest assured, you’re safe here." A smirk played on his lips, his eyes glinting with mischief as he continued, "We’re just thrilled that the great ones have finally produced a noble who understands the chaos others create."

Balzamir chuckled softly, exhaling in relief. "By the Great Divines, I thought I was about to be captured again. Don't give me a scare like that, you fool." The driver responded with a hearty laugh, "I’m just an honest merchant, not a captor." Suddenly, he rummaged through his bag and retrieved a ring, the signet of the Smith family. "Looks like I won’t be needing this anymore," he remarked, handing it to Balzamir. Upon seeing the signet, Balzamir's complexion drained of color. He slipped the ring back onto his finger and asked, "Where did you come across this?" as a flood of memories from his past surged back to him.