by Pirateaba
“That’s true. But…”
I wait, yet no further thought comes. I explain myself while I try to see what’s making her upset.
“I’ve put a lot of thought into it, and I need to have a class to survive in this world. I can’t just rely on your goodwill forever.”
“But a class—that means you’d go and get a job, right? You’d…leave.”
Oh. Oh. I feel like an idiot.
“I don’t want to be a burden, Durene. I’m already making you sleep outside and now you have to feed two mouths.”
“That’s not a problem!”
The table shifts as Durene moves. She apologizes, and then her tone changes, becomes more pleading.
“I don’t mind the grass! I don’t! And you eat a lot less than I do. I wouldn’t mind you staying! I…like having you around.”
What do I say? What do I do? Whatever it is, it must be something that won’t break her tender heart.
“You know I have a home, Durene, and a family. They’re probably worried sick about me. I want to get back to them.”
I can almost feel her drooping at the other side of the table. I clear my throat and go on.
“But I do enjoy staying here with you. If you’re sure I won’t be a burden, I’d love to stay here. I just mentioned a class because it’s fascinating, really.”
“You’ll stay here? You’re sure?”
It’s not pathetic how eager she sounds, how hopeful. It’s heartbreaking. Who left this girl alone? I nod.
“I doubt there’s many jobs for a blind person in your world anyways. Unless I can learn magic? I’d love to learn that.”
“I don’t know. I’ve heard of spellbooks, but I don’t know if mages learn any other way.”
I make a face, mildly outraged as I eat more crepe. Even in this world I’m handicapped by a lack of braille books? And I very much doubt there’s any kind of audio spellbook.
“Well, that idea’s out. I guess I’ll have to sleep on it.”
Then I have another idea. I suggest it to Durene as I help her wash the pottery dishes. She doesn’t use soap, but hot water works pretty well. She can tolerate the heat far better than I, though. But her hands are clumsier, so we both work slow.
“Why don’t you show me around your village?”
Durene nearly drops the cup she’s holding. I push it back into the bucket of water just in time; the splash gets water all over my clothes.
“What’s wrong? I haven’t introduced myself, and I’m sure they’re curious about me.”
“I—I wouldn’t want to bother you.”
“It’s fine. I like meeting people. Besides, I have to meet them sooner or later, don’t I?”
“I guess.”
Day 8
It takes me two more days for me to convince Durene to take me into the village. She resists, stonewalls—not so much out of reluctance to visit on her behalf, but for fear of how the villagers will treat me, I think.
And how do the villagers treat me?
With kindness.
Oh, they knew a stranger had moved into Durene’s house, but no one had come by. I think they were more apprehensive than curious, and Durene herself might have told them to steer clear before then. It isn’t as if we are always together; she made several trips into the village prior to my arrival, and I can only speculate I was the topic of gossip.
When Durene finally lets me into the village, I hear a few mutters, but Prost, the [Farmer] who Durene had helped out a few days ago, is the first to shake my hand.
“You’ve got a fine grip, son. You’d be a good farmer.”
“Ah, but I’d keep trying to milk the bull, and that wouldn’t end up well for anyone, would it?”
A joke, a laugh, and I change from the scary unknown to someone approachable, even likeable. One mother smacks her son for calling me names, and soon I’m introducing myself as a traveler from far off, sidetracked by a spell and relying on Durene for help.
That bit of fiction is met by approval from all the villagers, but later on Prost takes me aside as Durene helps lift a few kegs for one of the farmers.
“I wouldn’t say much about Durene—she’s a good helper in times of need, but she’s a bit—”
“She seems like a nice, normal young woman to me. Wouldn’t you agree?”
I shut him down in an instant. I don’t want to know. Not from him. Not from someone who isn’t Durene who’s chosen to tell me. That ends the conversation; it’s awkward for a few moments until I ask about farming around here. Turns out that these farmers have quite the variety of crops, and they’re fascinated when I talk about greenhouses and crop rotation. Some high-level [Farmers] have Skills that approximate those effects, and soon I’m actually giving out vague advice on farming techniques I half-remember. Too bad I can’t give them a combine harvester.
Durene hovers around me anxiously at first, but then relaxes as time went by. The other villagers treat her—well, I guess. They have a huge mug of milk for her, and she helps drag a huge tree that had fallen out of the way. But—
We leave the village after several hours, with invitations for me to call on various families for a meal and conversation. I can tell stories about the places I’ve been to if I omit the parts that they wouldn’t understand, and in this small village I’m the equivalent of a celebrity, or a novelty.
The villagers like me. I think I can say that with confidence. They think I’m kind, charming, and okay, mad as a loon. But Farmer Prost’s wife Yesel gives me a basket full of goods to take back to Durene’s home—or rather, she gives Durene that, and I met a good deal of people that day. All in all it was a success.
I just wonder why they dislike Durene so. Or maybe not dislike? She’s clearly known them all her life. But there’s a wall between her and them, and no matter how kindly the villager are towards her and no matter how hard she tries to be as helpful and meek as possible, they still keep their distance from her. I hear it in their tones and observe it through their actions.
It makes me hate them, just a little.
Day 11
I woke up knowing what class I’d have. I was so antsy that over breakfast I nearly put my hand on the frying pan in distraction. I broke the news to Durene as we ate cheese on scrambled eggs; neither of us could do omelettes.
“I think I’ll become an [Emperor]. Do you know if I have to declare that? Or is it just doing something that gives you the class?”
Durene choked on her eggs and I had to listen to her splutter for a while before any coherent words came out.
“That’s impossible! Laken! What are you saying?”
“I’m going to be an [Emperor]. It seems like the easiest class for me to take, and perhaps I’ll gain some useful skills.”
Honestly, it was the first class that came into my mind as a viable option. But Durene told me flat out it was impossible. I told her she was wrong.
“You can be an [Emperor], Durene. You can, and I can.”
“It’s not possible! To do that—you’d need a kingdom, and a palace and white horse and—and—”
Her voice trails off, unable to even describe my folly. I can only smile.
“But you can, Durene. I know of a man, an ordinary man, who became an Emperor. All by himself, although he was poor and he had no palace or horse.”
“Really? Who?”
There’s skepticism, but curiosity and eagerness in her voice in equal measure. She always loves stories from my world. This one puts a grin on my face even as I speak.
“He was known as Emperor Norton the 1st of America. He was a real man who became an Emperor just by calling himself one. I always loved his story.”
“Emperor? But you said America has no rulers. Only someone with the [President] class.”
My explanations of how my world works might have gotten a bit jumbled. I shake my head.
“That’s true. But Norton didn’t care what the rules were. One day, he declared himself Emperor. And he lived and died acting as o
ne.”
It’s an amazing story, and one I have to struggle to do justice to. How can I explain to Durene the tale of Joshua Norton, a failed businessman who one day woke up and sent letters to every newspaper in San Francisco proclaiming himself as the Emperor of the United States?
Well, sort of like that, actually.
“He made proclamations and sent orders to the army—none of which were ever obeyed—and he even made his own money. I know it sounds ridiculous, Durene, and I’ll just bet you’re smiling, but here’s the crazy thing: it worked! The people let him go around calling himself Emperor, and in time they began treating him like one.”
“They didn’t.”
“They did. Not all of course, but he eventually made his own money and became known throughout the city. The people of San Francisco accepted his currency, and he dined in the finest restaurants and went to famous plays in the theater where they would hold a seat for him. When he died, over thirty thousand people went to his funeral.”
Durene listens in silence, rapt with attention. I can only imagine it myself. His story captured my heart.
“Some say he was a madman. And maybe he was; he probably was, honestly. But he also dared to dream. And that’s something I’ve always admired about him.”
He dared to dream. There are worse things to be remembered by. And unlike the rich businessmen and famous stars and politicians of the day, Norton I is still marked in history as the first and only Emperor of the United States. It may seem funny to most people, but I think he’s the one laughing in the end.
“If one man can declare himself Emperor, I don’t see why I can’t follow suit. Kings might be born to rule, but the first kings were just men with an army who made themselves crowns. I might not have an army, or a crown, but it’s worth a shot.”
“Maybe.”
As impressed as she is by the story, I can hear the doubt oozing from Durene’s every word. But I just grin.
“I’m in another world, Durene, and from what you’ve said, classes rule this place. Why not take one of the best ones if I can? So. You can be my witness.”
I stand up dramatically, praying I don’t hit anything by accident as I gesture grandly.
“Hear my words, that they may be passed down for posterity. On this day, I, Laken Godart, declare myself Emperor of the Unseen, sovereign lord and ruler of all I survey. Not only Emperor; I declare myself Protector of Durene’s House as well.”
For a second I hold the pose, and then hear Durene giggle. It sounds amazing coming from her deep voice. I smile and sit back down.
“You can’t do that! What if someone heard you?”
“Well, then I’d demand that they show me the proper respect I deserve. And ask for their taxes. You owe me a tithe, I believe. I demand your finest crepe as your [Emperor].”
Giggling like a girl, Durene passes me one. I eat it with an air of triumph, and tell her several more jokes that make her laugh.
And that’s good. That alone is worth the crazy attempt. But as I sleep that night, I can’t help but think that it would be nice if I could be [Emperor]. I’d make the world a better place, or at least, try to.
I’d like to hear Durene laugh a lot more, and make it so she never has to cry herself to sleep another night.
In my heart, as I let sleep overtake me, I do believe I could do it. I believe. That’s what I learned to do. I believe I can be something more than people expect of me.
My eyes close. I breathe out. And then I hear a voice in my mind.
[Emperor Class Obtained!]
[Emperor Level 1!]
[Skill – Aura of the Emperor obtained!]
“Das war ja einfach!”
Day 12
Durene is in a state of panic; I’m calm.
Sort of calm. I’m freaking out, but in a good way. Durene’s just freaking out.
I blink as she tromps past me, nearly hitting my leg. Her voice is strained as talks out loud.
“It can’t be! You don’t have any fancy clothes! How can you be an—an—[Emperor]? It doesn’t make sense!”
I don’t know. But I do know, at the same time. I sit up straight. I can’t tell how this new Skill I’ve received works, but I feel a bit…different. A bit more secure in myself. I was right. I dreamed, and I was right.
“Durene. Is an [Emperor] simply defined by his clothes? A king is still a king in rags, after all. It may sound silly, but in this world people become what they believe, I think. You haven’t become a [Cook] because you don’t think you can be one. But I? I think I can do anything I want to. And I think you can too.”
She stops mid-step. I can sense her facing me.
“I—I have to go. I have to—go.”
She practically knocks the door down trying to get away. I sit and think in her house, trying to figure out what it means. Something. What can an [Emperor] do? What could my skills do? Is it even practical? How can I get home?
Someday, I want to go home. Even if Durene is here, I…
I need to find my family again.
When the door opens again, Durene comes in silent, but no longer panicking. She avoids the topic of my class and I do too, at least for a bit.
“You have a nice home, Durene. But I’d love to visit a town someday, or a city.”
She hesitates.
“I—I want to too. But it’s tricky…”
I don’t ask why. Instead I just nod.
“You’ve said there are other continents in this world, filled with all kinds of different species.”
“…Yes.”
“Where are we? What continent are we on?”
“Izril. We’re on Izril.”
“Huh. Sounds almost familiar.”
3.01 E
Day 13
I am an [Emperor]. That is fact.
But I don’t know what it means. After an entire day of speculation and worry, Durene has no more answers for me. Myself, I’m just content to find out.
I guess it’s because of my class that Durene is freaking out so much. To me, it’s just a title that doesn’t mean much; something that happened to me because I tried something new. But to Durene, that class automatically makes me royalty.
No—isn’t an [Emperor] even higher in status than a [King]? A king might rule by virtue of lineage, but an emperor could in theory rule over multiple countries, and thus kings.
Huh.
Wow.
I guess it’s a huge deal, but again, I’m only Level 1, and all I have is one odd skill. When I told Durene, she said she couldn’t see anything like an aura about me, but Skills don’t work all the time necessarily. Some, like her [Enhanced Strength] skill are essentially permanent passive changes, but others have to be used.
As far as I can tell, there’s no word or catchphrase that activates [Aura of the Emperor]. Believe me, I tried and probably looked quite silly doing so. Whatever it is, the skill like my class is a mystery that will have to wait.
I sigh as I carefully walk across the dirt forest path near Durene’s house. It’s been a while since I’ve been by myself, and to be honest, I needed this break. My lovely host has been fussing over me all day, and she didn’t even want to let me go out on my own.
That was an argument she was never going to win. Her concern is touching, but I’m hardly a quadriplegic; I need to stretch my legs and I hate being chaperoned all of the time. It’s fairly easy to keep track of the dirt path, and I’m hardly about to wander off that far. Durene showed me the route, and I have it memorized.
“What a mess.”
It really is. I’ve gotten used to living in this world thanks to Durene, but now a bunch of questions are circling around in my head. How can I get back home? Is it even possible?
Durene is convinced that whatever happened to me was the result of magic. I tend to agree, but if any normal spell could teleport me across worlds, I’ll eat my hat. No, something big happened that dragged me here, and I need to find out what.
And I won’t be able to do
that in Riverfarm. I need to go out into the world. A lone, blind guy in a world full of monsters and magic.
That would be my death. But it’s different for an [Emperor], isn’t it? What’s the difference between a blind man and a blind [Emperor]?
Maybe everything. Because one of them is an [Emperor].
Norton I of America. Do you know why I loved his story? Because he was the Emperor of the United States in his head, and nothing could take that away from him.
Being blind sometimes sucks. For me it’s normal, but there are days when I grow frustrated. Frustrated because other people can do things so effortlessly that I struggle to do. I’ll never catch a ball, or drive, or even paint. I can’t experience some of the things people talk about.
It’s a bit unfair. And when I was young, I hated the way I was treated. Sometimes, yes, sometimes, I felt like less of a person because people thought of me that way. Here’s a blind kid. He can’t appreciate this, or do that. He’s different. Not the same.
But I am blind. I have my own worth, regardless of whether people acknowledge that.
I stop walking. Here I am, in a forest I can’t see. In a world totally different from my own. Some might say that it’s not that different for someone who can’t see, but I can sense the difference in every step I take. I feel the same wonder when I hear a new bird’s call, or touch Durene’s hands and know that she is different.
I am an [Emperor]. No one can take that from me. I may have gotten that class easily—just by declaring myself so. But I believed in it, even so. I believed. When you are blind, sometimes the world is uncertain. I have to trust when I get up and walk around my house that everything is the way I left it.
I trust the things I touch with my cane, just like a seeing person trusts their eyes. But I am prepared for the times when I miss a branch or something with my cane and walk right into a shrub. I am ready, in short, to walk off a cliff some days because I can’t ever be 100% certain something is right in front of me. But I have to believe I’ll step onto solid ground.