Xidriel entertained the thought of becoming a business owner in this world, something that he had always wanted to be in his old world but couldn’t act on due to his dire financial status, upon hearing the kind of commodities being marketed to commoners and nobles alike.

Like in any fantasy setting, salt and spices are in high demand, followed by butter and sugar when it comes to consumables.

High quality gemstones and textiles are mostly catered to the nobles and richer merchants; then there’s the niche market of scholars and art enthusiasts, one that he is somewhat familiar with.

He could use his family’s name to get started and rely on the extensive reach of their network to find the best staff.

Being the youngest child in the family in this world, with only trivial trinkets and paltry land to inherit, he has to find ways to expand his wealth to live comfortably.

The original Xidriel also had plans to dabble in the business world, so it wouldn’t be surprising for those who personally know him to push through with the idea.

The door to the solar opened once again, prompting Xidriel and Lan to stop talking and turn their attention to it.

A man with exquisite beauty stepped into the room, wearing a white and lavender outfit that accentuates his light bronze skin, wavy white hair and slender body.

His large oval eyeglasses, adorned with a thin chain and small cuts of topaz, made his face look slimmer than usual and his light green eyes locked onto the two people within the room, brows furrowed in deep thought. If one gaze long enough at his face, they would notice a small beauty mark on his left cheek, right below his eyeglass.

It was Lysander Chionne von Seymour, the second son of a noble and the current leader of the Sable Crescent Trade.

Xidriel felt his heart jump up to his throat when their eyes met one another, confusing him for a moment if the emotions he’s feeling belonged to him who got captivated by this person’s appearance or if he inherited it from the original who harbored interest in him but was afraid to ruin a good friendship.

He slowly stood up, smiling nervously as he called out to him with a familiar nickname. “San…!”

Lysander stopped walking, his gaze firm on Xidriel as he took in his shabby appearance.

Lan stood up as well, giving him a quick bow. “It’s an honor to meet you in person again, Grand Meister.”

Lysander’s eyes flicked towards Lan then back at Xidriel, piecing together the information as to why he was called upon by the Reverend Mother with great haste and a member of the Inquisition’s presence in this room.

His brows furrowed further once he finally recognized Xidriel and realized the implications of his present state.

He raised his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose, as he staggered and leaned on the table for support.

“You damn, shameless, turd for brains, inconsiderate tree hugger…!” Lysander managed to choke out.

Xidriel, who was worriedly hurrying to his side, stopped in his tracks when he heard him utter those words.

Was that Lysander’s attempt on cussing him out?

That soft-spoken Lysander actually tried to cuss…?

He tried to hold back a snort to no avail, making Lysander lift his head and glare at him.

“You think this is funny, Xidriel?”

“In all honesty? A bit.” Xidriel chuckled. “You’re not really good at cussing…”

Lysander straightened up indignantly. “Do you have any idea how worried we were about you? We searched everywhere for you!”

Xidriel raised his hands in surrender. “I wasn’t gone that long, right…?”

Lysander grinded his teeth, his eyes tearing up in anger. “You were gone for half a year, you blockhead! We feared the worst had happened to you…”

Both Xidriel and Lan flinched at his words.

For Xidriel, the memories he gained looked like they were fresh from last week and not a day more.

For Lan, it gave him a new perspective as to why the Grand Meister had personally issued the dispatch mission instead of a messenger delivering it months ago and the hasty establishment of that rendezvous branch where Joaquin is stationed along with his merry group under the guise of ‘researching and tapping into local market’, as he probably had found a link between those cultists and the disappearance of his friend.

Lysander closed his eyes and took a deep breath to regain his composure before turning towards Lan.

“Thank you for rescuing him. I’ll see to it that you are properly compensated.”

Lan only blinked before smiling and giving a small bow again. “It was Amon who found him first, Grand Meister. I merely came in late and healed his injuries…”

Lysander’s well trimmed brow twitched at that. “I see…it was him…nevertheless, I will see to it that you are both rewarded.”

He sighed as he looked back at Xidriel. “Come with me.”

×××

The city outside of the Abbey is overwhelming, to say the least, and the original Xidriel’s memory of it didn’t give it justice.

If the current Xidriel is to describe it, it is the perfect example of a large capital city in a fantasy setting: districts divided into sections depending on the income threshold, with roads transitioning from cobblestone to brick when travelling towards the nobles’ district and up to the grand castle that belonged to the royal family.

Trees and flowering bushes adorned the sides of the road, with a few fountains scattered about.

The main means of transport is still by horse and carriage, and he guessed the existence of the teleportation crystals were exclusive for members of the Inquisition.

Xidriel turned his attention towards Lysander, who was sitting across him with his arms crossed and his brows still furrowed.

Lan called him “Grand Meister”, so that means he also wields a mystical power like them. Not to mention, he commands the whole Inquisition, an organization that Xidriel had great interest in as a fan of mythology, at his young age of twenty-five.

Is it safe to ask his friend about it, seeing that the other is aware about his fascination with the organization for years, or should he let it go…?

He fiddled with his fingers under his cloak.

How should he approach the topic?

Or should he ask about something else?

As Xidriel debated with himself, Lysander heaved a sigh.

“I had hoped I could keep you in the dark forever…”

“Huh?”

“About the existence of our organization and my position within it.” Lysander said with a small, bitter smile.

Xidriel only stared at him before giving him a reassuring smile. “You don’t have to explain yourself if you don’t want to. If you want, you could erase my memory about it. I think Amon mentioned something about that being possible…”

Seeing his friend hesitate and feel guilt of hiding such a secret from him, Xidriel decided that it’s not worth probing further. And with his memories now properly in place, there’s a good chance that a memory wipe will succeed without a hitch.

He’d rather have an intact friendship than drift apart, all because he wasn’t filled in that the mythical group he was passionate about actually existed right under his nose.