The Wandering Inn_Volume 1
Page 322
“We have come here to bear witness to you, of course!”
“Bear witness? Why?”
“Art thou not an [Emperor]?”
The faerie makes it sound as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. And I start to get it. Faeries, kings—they’re tied together, like how the faeries blessed Briar Rose in the original tale. And they’ve come to visit me?
“I’m honored, of course. But have you come to simply see and acknowledge me, or do you have some other reason? And shouldn’t you be bowing? I am an [Emperor].”
I’m playing a dangerous and probably stupid game. But the faerie in front of me laughs again, apparently taken with my boldness.
“Hah! We bow to no mortal sovereign. You may claim the land, but we are far more than mere dirt and plant. Your authority has no sway over we.”
“And yet you acknowledge it exists.”
“Of course! What churls do you think we are?”
“We came to bear witness!”
“To see an Emperor of this small place!”
“And because we had nothing better to do!”
Well then, it sounds to me like these faeries came here because they were bored. Which means they’re capricious. Better to get on their good side. But how? I don’t know if offering them food is any good—I’d have to make some, and all of Durene’s cooking utensils are made of iron.
“Well then, in the name of the Unseen Empire, I bid you welcome. You are all honored guests, although I regret that my master chef and seneschal is out chopping wood. Please, make yourselves at home.”
The faeries seem delighted at this.
“Oho!”
“He is polite, this one! He knows how to treat us: with respect!”
“Not like those other fools!”
I wonder who they’re talking about. I sense the faeries flying lower, and inquire politely.
“Do you have any business here besides meeting me? I wouldn’t want to keep you from your duties.”
A chorus of denials greets me.
“Nae, we have time.”
“Until the spring comes, we are free!”
“Free to do as we please, and not follow one stupid mortal!”
“Aye! So we came here to meet you! ‘Twas worth it to be greeted with respect.”
Another voice chimes in, high and excited.
“Plus, we wanted to see ye before it was too late.”
“Shh! Don’t tell him that!”
“Wait, what?”
“Idiot!”
I hear a light smack and I have to guess one of the faeries hit the other. I hold Frostwing in my hands, although she’s barely moving, heart suddenly beating out of my chest. Faeries. Beings that can see and predict fate.
“There’s something bad about to happen? Please, tell me.”
“Well—”
“Shh! Be quiet!”
“No. Forget what you heard, mortal!”
The faeries flutter around me. They start arguing, and I hear a few of them saying they should tell me. But most of them are in favor of not. A few fly up, and I raise my voice desperately.
“Wait, hold on! I entreat you, please, stay and let us talk.”
A pause, and then I sense them flying close to me.
“Very well. For your words of hospitality, we will listen. Speak, oh Emperor, Protector of Durene’s Cottage.”
No time to laugh, and no time to question. I clear my throat.
“It seems to me that you…wise and noble faeries are aware of some impending danger to me and my empire that I am not aware of.”
“Perhaps.”
“Indeed, and I would never ask you to reveal a secret. But perhaps I could persuade you to help me avert the tragedy that is yet to come? Or at the very least, reveal the danger to me.”
The faeries murmur at this. I hold my breath—I’m trying to sound formal, but I have no idea how to actually talk to the fae. A bargain with them sounds like a bad idea, but this disaster—
“Intriguing. What do you propose, mortal?”
Yatzhee! I keep my face composed as I nod in what I hope is a dignified manner.
“Well, I cannot offer you land or a marriage to my house—”
“—Hah!”
“Shh!”
“—But what would you say to mortal riches? I have gold and jewels to compliment your radiance. Would you accept that?”
The faeries confer, whispering loudly.
“Mm…maybe.”
“Hah! He seeks to flatter us. He calls us ‘radiant’, he who cannot see!”
“Ah, but we are radiant, are we not sisters? Any mortal can tell that, even without sight.”
“True! But gold is so heavy. And it is a secret.”
In the end, they fly back down to me, probably shaking their tiny heads. I can only imagine.
“No, oh Emperor. It is not enough. Mortal wealth has little luster for us. Have you nothing else to offer?”
Nothing. Damn it, nothing. Only a bit of food, and I can’t feed all of them! If only I had an actual empire. But my [Emperor] title is just for show. I can only—
Wait. Emperor. Empire. What about—
I clear my throat.
“What if I gave you a noble title?”
“What?”
“Really?”
“Are you serious, mortal?”
Am I? Yes.
“Only naturally. I would offer entrance into my noble court to any friend of my kingdom. You, for instance—”
I point in the direction of the voice of the faerie that just spoke.
“For your aid, would you accept a title? That of, say, Comtesse?”
“Ooh! I like that!”
“What about us?”
“I want to be a Comtesse!”
“Nay, I!”
“We cannot all be Comtesses! What of the rest of us, mortal?”
Jeez, do I have to bribe all of them? I think quickly.
“I could make you…noblesse uterine if you wanted.”
Not exactly a flattering name. The tiny voices confer, and then dissent.
“Nay! Another title!”
“Marchioness, then? Or—how about herzogin?”
“Ooh! I like that!”
“I want to be that!”
“No, me!”
They’re like children, squabbling over titles I just made up. And yet—maybe there’s more to it than that. It might sound funny, but I am an Emperor, and I do have the power to make the nobility.
…Still, I can’t help but feel glad that no one’s watching me as I come outside and address one of the faeries who kneels in the air in front of me.
“Very well. I dub thee Comtesse of the Soup Spoon.”
So saying, I hand her a wooden spoon. The other faeries ooh and applaud, and the faerie seizes the spoon from my hand and crows in triumph. That position was heavily sought after, but the other titles are equally as important. I turn to the next faerie.
“If you would be a Reichsgräfin in my empire—”
“Aye, I would!”
“Then I grant you that position for as long as my empire exists. To the end of time, an Emperor’s word on it.”
“Hah! I will hold you to your word, mortal!”
That’s what worries me. But I have no time to reflect on my actions. I go down the line of faeries. A Comtesse, several Ladies, a Duchess and a Viscount—I dub a score of them blumenritter, and make one a Baron. I asked her if she wanted to be a Baroness, but she preferred Baron.
And then it’s over. I breathe out and feel the assembled peerage of my empire flying before me. I bow to them regally, and hear them laugh in delight. The sound warms my heart even in this chill, but I am still afraid.
“So now will you tell me what fate waits for my empire?”
The faeries pause.
“We cannot say.”
Really? After all this? I only cross my arms and frown. The faeries hurry on.
“We cannot! It is a secret and n
ot our place to tell. But since ye have given us an Emperor’s gift, we shall return your kindness. I swear to you, oh mortal ruler, this fate shall not befall your land or your people.”
Is that a good thing or a bad thing? No—it’s good. And I know better than to question it. Instead, I nod my head regally.
“My thanks to you. You and your kind are welcome in my land. Know this.”
“Aye, and we shall treasure your gifts to us, mortal!”
“You shall be safe, we promise!”
“You aren’t bad—for an Emperor!”
The faeries cry out as they laugh and fly away from me. I listen to them go, worried and relieved and happy in turns. Faeries. My god.
Durene finds me sitting in the snow, about an hour later. I hear her exclaim and then come running over.
“Laken! What’s wrong? Why are you out here? You’re so cold!”
I just laugh at her, which makes her even more confused and upset. I let her carry me inside and fuss over me. I barely know where to begin. How can I even explain what happened? I do my best, but she can hardly believe me herself. But there is one thing I now know, with dreadful certainty.
“Something bad is about to happen, Durene.”
It might avoid us, according to the faeries. But I cannot help but wonder and worry. It may be mortal folly, but I am mortal. And I worry. But that is only half of me. The other half wonders and dreams of magic.
I saw faeries.
[Emperor Level 7!]
Day 41
Three days later it happened. I was just waking up, in that blissful moment between waking and sleeping. I was about to feed Frostwing some cold meat when I heard a roar like thunder. But unlike thunder, the sound did not diminish. Rather, it grew louder.
“Durene!”
Maybe I was expecting it. But the reality of the ground shaking around me and Durene’s pottery clattering and breaking on the shelves is far more horrific than anything I could have dreamed. I hear Frostwing screeching, and Durene shouting for me.
We meet in the center of the cottage as the rumbling oblivion of noise crescendos around us. It feels like the world is ending, and all I can do is hold Durene to me. I feel her squeezing me hard, and close my eyes.
And then, as quick as the terror has begun, it’s over. I open my eyes slowly, for the first time in ages. Of course I see nothing, but I do it all the same. It feels like I should see something, for the world has changed.
I know it, even if the cottage and the area around it that I can sense is the same. Durene is quivering in my arms. As she holds me and I hold her, I can hear Frostwing shrieking in alarm. At last I manage to let go of Durene and stagger up to her.
“Frostwing. Are you…?”
She’s alright. Just scared out of her wits. I check her with my hands just to be sure. They’re shaking. Then I hear Durene gasp.
“Durene. What is it?”
“The—the—”
She can’t even speak. I rush to her side, and feel her at the open door. But I can’t sense anything.
“Durene?”
“The snow…”
Her eyes see it. But it takes me a long time, an eternity, to coax her mouth into making sense for me. And then she speaks and I realize what’s happened.
The snow. The snow came down off of a distant mountain. The snow, triggered by snowfall of a sound or the faeries, turned into an avalanche that poured down, smashing everything in its way. It travelled miles, a vast distance, before expending the last of its energy here.
Even the last of its force is enough to destroy everything in its path. Trees were uprooted, a good swathe of the forest buried. But by some miracle—some magical help—the force of the avalanche split around the hut. Ours is the only unburied point as far as Durene can see.
“It’s a miracle.”
Durene hugs me again, shaking. I hug her back, even though I know that’s not entirely true. Not a miracle. A gift. Payment in kind.
I don’t know if I should thank the faeries or blame them. I settle for thanking them, and feel relief coursing through my veins. It’s over. We’re safe. If the faeries hadn’t diverted the avalanche, the cottage would have been buried or smashed to bits. I’m just glad we weren’t outside of the cottage or—
My heart stops in my chest. I realize with horror what must have happened. My sightless gaze turns to the road connecting Durene’s cottage with the rest of the world, now covered in snow.
“Oh no. The village.”
Durene gasps in horror. She lets go of me.
“It would’ve been right in the way of the avalanche! Laken, what should we do? We have to—do you think it missed them?”
No, no I don’t. I can just imagine what happened. The avalanche hit the village. I might’ve—the buildings are sturdy and this was the tail end of it. But what good is that against thousands of tons of snow?
Durene is panicking, and I’m rooted to one spot. We have to help. But how? It’s just me and Durene. Should I grab a shovel? No—food? What’s the best option? Where will the villagers go? Is it still dangerous there?
I don’t know what the right choice is here. I don’t know how to save the lives that might be at risk—or already gone.
Think, Laken. What can I do? What can we do?
What would an [Emperor] do?
3.12 E
What do I do?
I’m no hero. I’m not even qualified to be a police officer, doctor, an emergency worker, or any job that requires sight.
And I’ve never been trained. I have no idea what to do.
So panic grips me as I stumble across the snowy ground, knees still shaking from the avalanche. Part of me doesn’t even really believe what’s happened. After all, the small area of land I can sense hasn’t changed much. But Durene tells me that everything around her cottage is just—gone.
‘I’ll have to see it to believe it.’ Ironic, but in my case I have to feel it, or at least hear it to believe. I walk to the edge of the place where the earth just fades away in my mind, and feel forwards.
Nothing. Well, it’s not as if there would be a wall of ice in front of me. But suddenly I notice the frozen pathway is gone. Instead, there’s only crunching snow underfoot. And as I walk forwards cautiously, feeling my way ahead, I start to stumble as I run into huge chunks of solid snow, torn up. And—dirt? I hit something hard and feel at it.
A tree trunk. Sideways. It’s lying on the ground.
“Oh no.”
It’s true. I trace my way to the base of the trunk—actually, it’s the top of the tree. I feel branches, and leaves. The avalanche pulled this tree up and tossed it like a twig. And if it could do this to a tree, what chance does a house stand?
The village. My mind goes back to it. What do I do? What can I do? I have to help; that’s the right choice. But what’s the best way? I don’t—
“Laken!”
A voice shouts my name and I hear thumping footsteps. Durene rushes after me, fright clear in her voice.
“It’s not safe!”
Rough hands drag me back. Durene is terrified, but she cares more about my safety in this moment than anything else. I let her pull me back into the radius of the cottage. There at least I can tell what’s around me. But instead of being reassured by my mastery of this small domain, I now feel like I’m holding a candle in a—a dark world. I don’t understand darkness that well, but I fear the place where my [Emperor]’s senses fade away and I have to rely solely on remaining senses.
The village. My heart is still pounding out of my chest. The world is too silent. I can hear thunder in my veins, but there is only silence in the air. Compared to the fury of a few seconds ago, this—
I hear shrieking. My head turns, but it’s only Frostwing. She’s scared out of her mind, and I can’t blame her. But her anxiety doesn’t matter—the village—
I can’t think. I’m hyperventilating, gasping for air. Durene trembles as she stops.
“Laken. What do we…? It’
s all gone.”
We’re both in shock. I know that. But my mind keeps snapping back to the village. Riverfarm. They were hit. I have to do something.
And like that, the paralysis gripping me ends. It’s not that I’m not still petrified. But I start moving even so. I have to act. It’s either act or keep still, and there is no time.
“Durene, we have to go to the village. The faeries didn’t protect Riverfarm. Who knows what’s happened to them?”
“What? Laken—”
Durene pauses. It’s not even complete thought she’s having. She’s not thinking, just reacting. But finally—and it feels like forever although it’s only been a minute or less—my brain begins working again.
Village. Help them. We have to go and check. Can’t stay here.
I feel cold. As if my skin and everything beneath it has frozen over. A chill made of fear is making me shake, but that same terror is electric. I don’t stop and think; I only know that I have to move.
“We have to go! Durene!”
I snap at her. Durene jerks, and then she hesitates.
“It’s too dangerous for you! I’ll go. I’ll help. You stay here and—”
“No.”
“Laken—”
“You are a [Paladin].”
I feel like an idiot saying it, but I grab Durene’s protective hand and try to turn my head towards her face. My gentle giant is shivering with fear, but her being here reassures me enough to keep my voice steady.
“Durene. You are a Paladin. A protector of the weak and innocent. And you are also my guardian, my champion. You have to go. And I have to go. We have to help everyone we can.”