by Pirateaba
“Anyone who can—we need houses.”
The snow is so deep. But I’m already thinking about tonight. The villagers—they’re all out, living and dead. And while the dead will keep for a while, the living are freezing. And it’s going to be dark and cold tonight. It’s barely mid morning despite the herculean efforts of the day, but we need to get as many houses out as possible.
“Durene, can you start clearing snow out over here? There’s a barn—if we empty it, we could have a place for everyone to sleep at least.”
I look at Durene, although I can’t see her. But I can sense her, and touch her, and feel her beside me. That’s more than enough. I know she has to be tired, but she doesn’t show any of her exhaustion.
“I can do that. If someone helps get rid of the snow…”
“Is there anything better than a shovel? Pickaxes, maybe?”
Do they even have those? A young man hovering by me—the one who gave me the bowl of soup—offers a suggestion.
“What about magic?”
“Magic?”
I’m caught totally off-guard. But as it turns out, the young man knows a very weak flame spell. And so do other people in the village! It’s a bit better than digging, but not by much.
“Hold off on it. Wait until we dig out a building and then you’ll defrost it.”
I keep ordering people about. They obey as if it’s natural and I don’t question it. They need a leader. And I’m the best choice.
Only I can sense the entire village. It’s almost all under the snow, but I can sense which houses are intact, which ones have valuable items, and most importantly, which are closest to the surface. It is like a game, and I organize people as best I can.
What’s the first and most important thing? The elements. There’s already a small fire going.
“Get someone with wood chopping skills and find some trees! I want two—no, four big fires going!”
Those with fire magic can light what wood we have. That’s not enough of course. I ask around and find who might have the most clothes. We get that excavated and blankets, clothing—all go to children and those with injures first. Bandages come from recycled cloth first boiled and dried by a fire.
What else? While I’m doing that I wonder about animals. I look—but they’re all dead. We dug up the people first. Still, I know where they are. All of that is frozen food that can be retrieved later.
“Mister Laken? Emperor Laken?”
A voice. I turn. Prost is standing before me, humble.
“Emperor?”
I sense him bowing his head.
“Yes sir. Durene’s dug up a good part of the barn, but she says it’s not stable.”
“Damn.”
I couldn’t tell when it’s all buried.
“Can it be fixed? Who has skills in…carpentry?”
People around me provide answers. I choose three of the best builders to take a look at the building. Someone calls out to me. One of her sons—a teenager—was injured badly. His foot was broken. It needs to be set, but the [Midwife] has no potions.
I find some. By that point several people are telling me they need weapons. For Durene?
No. For wolves and monsters that might attack the injured. I find a sword buried deep and cast about. Broken bows…I find a few locations and have people start digging.
People ask me whether they should cook more soup. I ask and find out what the best recipes are. I direct them to a dead cow.
More work. It’s getting dark apparently—I can feel the chill on my skin and the feeling of sunlight is gone. People need light, but torches are in short supply. And the team working on the barn and other buildings don’t want the badly-directed torchlight to mess with their work.
I have an idea.
“Wait a second.”
I pull out a rectangle of metal. It’s always in my pocket although I haven’t turned it on until now. I push the power button.
“Siri? Turn on flashlight.”
“Sorry, but I’m not able to do that.”
People around me exclaim in awe, but I just scowl. I have to find the flashlight app buried among the various ones I’ve downloaded and press it manually. I hate doing that.
Then again, I don’t exactly need a flashlight app, do I? It was put on my iPhone as a joke by my best friend. After Zoe installed it on my iPhone she told me it would help other people if they got lost, since I can find my way around in the dark just like the light. It would make them feel better, she told me.
And now? My iPhone glows with light. I can’t tell, but people around me are shouting ‘magic’. I give it to Prost and show him how to use it.
“Can I really use an artifact like this?”
“Just don’t drop it.”
I smile and turn away. The iPhone’s batteries probably don’t have that much juice in them in this cold, but the light helps. Prost and the others find the fault they’re looking for and fix it.
“Laken.”
Durene has the iPhone in her hands. I turn from having more blankets dug up and take it back from her.
“Thanks, Durene.”
“Is that the ‘phone’ you were talking about?”
“It is. Does it look interesting to you?”
I can’t imagine how the screen and the display looks to someone who’s never seen a light bulb. There’s awe in Durene’s voice.
“Yes. It’s like a star is in your hands.”
A star? I smile.
“Would you like to use it?”
“Me? No! I would never dare. What if I broke it? I’ve never seen magic like that before.”
“This is no magic. Anyone can use it. Here.”
In the lull of the night as the immediately worries of the villagers are temporarily alleviated, I show Durene how to work the controls.
“You see that little triangle at the bottom? Press it. Now—”
Durene jumps as music begins to play from the iPhone. I take it from her and turn up the volume. Heads turn. I walk towards the villagers, holding a glowing star in my hands that sings with a woman’s voice. I walk among them, reassuring, checking on the wounded, finding things for those with energy to do. They’re warm, fed, alive. For some reason they still keep thanking me.
I keep walking, and a woman sings about love in French, a language none of the villagers know. But her haunting voice brings life to a frozen world. So the villagers listen to L’hymne à l’amour as their loved ones lie in the falling snow. And they cry although they don’t know what the song is about.
And at the same time, they know what the song is. The singer conveys all they need to know. When the song ends I check the battery Durene sees a single digit and a red sliver of a bar. So I play one last song.
It’s not a song about love. It’s not even in French. It’s a song about and family and home and regret. A man called Reinhard Mey sings in German, Viertel vor Sieben, a song never heard before in this world. And that too speaks to the villagers.
The last echoes of the song die out. I turn off the iPhone and find a place to sleep. There’s already a space cleared for me, and Durene as well to my surprise. We could have gone back to the cottage—we will, if only to pick up Frostwing. But for now I sit, and find once I’m sitting that I’m out of energy.
I put my head down and I’m out like a light in moments. I rest and the villagers around me live another night, crying themselves to sleep. And I am still an [Emperor] when I wake up.
[Emperor Level 9!]
[Skill – Empire: Blessing of the Hearth Obtained!]
Day 42
When I woke up, I felt rested. Which is odd considering that I woke up just after six in the morning. I know I got substantially less than six hours of sleep considering how late I worked. But that was probably due to the Skill I received.
A skill for an empire. That’s the only way I can look at it. And the blessing—it’s powerful, I know that.
Most of the villagers did indeed sleep in the barn Dure
ne helped dig up with the rest of the villagers. It was the best choice. And though my beautiful and courageous friend kept working after that, even Durene has her limits. A few more houses were uncovered and more bodies fit in there, but most slept in cramped conditions in a patched-up building surrounded by snow.
Under such conditions, where no fire could be lit and most of the heat came from blankets and body heat, you could normally expect a lot of discomfort. But that night the grieving slept like logs and woke up just as refreshed as me. And better—they were healed by their rest!
Somehow, minor cuts had scabbed over and healed almost overnight. The larger injuries weren’t gone—but neither were they as bad as yesterday.
“It’s totally overpowered.”
That was my only comment when Durene told me about the healed people. It must be that I can only have one blessing, or that only one empire skill will work at the same time. Or…maybe [Emperors] are just that powerful.
Regardless, everyone knows it was due to me. The villagers woke up and made breakfast—helped change bandages—they’re self-sufficient and intelligent. But they all look to me as I sit with Durene, eating some soup greasy with fat and chunks of meat.
Here’s an irony: because all the animals were killed in the avalanche, the villagers are now eating a meaty broth, a rare treat for them in the winter or any other time, really. The warm, rich food warms my chest.
I look around and find that eyes are on me. I can feel them, even if I can’t see them. Plus, Durene lets me know.
For once, the gazes aren’t filled with petty concerns about Durene. I haven’t heard a bad word for her since I took charge, and indeed, no one’s busy enough to get into quarrels over anything except how to do things more efficiently.
After some thought, I stand up. I don’t make a speech. I don’t talk about yesterday, or my class. People have heard what I said; word gets around even in a disaster situation. But I still don’t mention it.
I turn towards the doors. I know the bodies are still out there. And the houses are still buried in the snow. Scavengers are going to come soon, if they haven’t already. The dead need to be buried with respect, and I’m still worried about monster attacks.
“Let’s get to work.”
So saying, I walk towards the doors. And the villagers follow me without question. Durene’s walking by my side, and I’m comforted by her. She whispers to me.
“I leveled up. Six times!”
“Oh?”
“And I got three Skills! Three!”
“Good.”
I don’t smile. There’s still so much to do, and there’s been too much loss for that. But I keep walking forwards. Riverfarm needs all the help it can get. And it is mine now. My responsibility.
I feel sunlight on my skin. I look up, and know every inch and crevice of the village. I walk forwards, ignoring hands reached out to help me along. In this place I am even more sure-footed than people with sight. And it occurs to me, that despite all the things I’ve been through, I have been so lucky since I came to this world.
In little over a month I found someone to love. I found a way to see without seeing, I obtained a noisy pet, and I was in the right place to help save lives. I might have even changed a few minds about judging the girl who walks beside me.
Back home I was happy in my own way. But here I can see. Here I have a purpose. So as I walk and begin ordering people about, I wonder. Is this world meant for me? Is this destiny or chance? And is there any way I could possibly one day call this place…?
Home?
I don’t know. But I’ll take it all one day at a time. As I am. Not Laken, but Laken Godart, Emperor of the Unseen. Protector of Durene’s Cottage. Ruler of Riverfarm Village.
[Emperor].
3.13
Maybe it’s the wine talking, but I don’t think Reynold the [Butler]’s such a bad guy. I mean, sure, he’s a bit uptight and he’s in the employ of a woman who might soon kill or torture me, but Reynold? He’s got class.
It’s probably the alcohol. But in my defense, I’ve downed over half a bottle by myself. Not much of a defense I’ll grant you, but my nerves are still shaking.
Almost literally. I sit at the head of Magnolia’s magical carriage, staring at the sleet and snow blasting around us and shudder again.
Goblins.
It feels like just a moment ago they were about to dice us up. In truth, it’s been more like twenty minutes. And I’m still not over it.
Neither is Reynold. The poor carriage driver sits hunched in his seat. The wine – courtesy of the empty bottle I tossed a while back – fortified us both. But neither of us are exactly happy.
Maybe that’s why we chat a bit as we keep going towards Invrisil, and Magnolia Reinhart’s mansion. Not about anything in particular; we talk just to keep ourselves from thinking. But I do learn something really interesting, and so does he.
“You met Erin?”
“You know Miss Solstice, Miss Griffin?”
We stare at each other. I had no idea. I mean, I know Erin mentioned meeting Lady Magnolia. She told me a lot about her encounter and of course I grilled her on the details, but did she mention a [Butler]?
…Crap. I think she might have. But of course I wouldn’t have paid attention to that. And did she mention his name? Was it Reynold?
I have a bad feeling this might have been one of the things I ignored about her story. Idiot! But Reynold seems just as impressed in his way that I know Erin.
“She did mention you, Miss. I gather she was worried about your safety, but I hardly realized you two were on such good terms.”
“It’s odd, isn’t it?”
I sigh as I stare across the frozen landscape. God. I wish she was here. She met Magnolia Reinhart and came away without a scratch somehow. Erin might be annoying at times, thoughtless, but I’d rather have her as I’m about to enter the lair of the beast than not.
And when she told me all she’d been through—I clench my hand as I remember. She told me about Magnolia, and I flipped out at her. I got into a fight with her! True, I’d just lost some fingers, but I should have been more understanding.
Regrets. I ride on with Reynold and try to answer his questions as I think about what’s going to happen next. Will I die? Or will I get a chance to convince Lady Magnolia that—what? I’m on the same side as she is?
That’s what she told Erin. But I don’t know if I can believe that. I’m damn sure that I can’t trust her or anyone with the knowledge of how to make guns. But how do I get out of this with my skin intact?
I have a few ideas. The first of which is drinking from the second wine bottle I got Ressa to pass up to us. Ivolethe greedily slurps down the rich wine as she sits next to me. It’s actually sort of disgusting the more I look at her, but it’s one of those things I can’t take my eyes off of. She’s drunk at least three times her body weight already, I swear, but she doesn’t even seem daunted by the sheer physical impossibility of it. She just keeps drinking happily, and singing some song that might be in Celtic.
“Miss, I wonder if I could have a word?”
Reynold’s voice breaks me out of my thoughts. I look over to him.
“What’s that?”
He hesitates, and casts a look back towards the carriage behind him. I look too—Ressa’s closed the hatch separating us. Reassured, Reynold speaks to me, but quietly, and I scoot over to listen.
“I know Lady Reinhart has requested your presence, just as she has the other…people from your world.”
Gods. He knows. But Reynold doesn’t seem bothered by that. He’s frowning, and I can tell he’s thinking something over. Anything to help me out. I listen as he comes to a decision.
“It’s true her methods may seem sudden to people who do not know her—”
I snort.
“That’s an understatement. Kidnapping me out of a city is normal, is it?”
To my surprise Reynold’s lips twitch.
“More than you migh
t think. No one gainsays a member of the Five Families, least of all Magnolia Reinhart. And it’s true that Lady Reinhart demands much. I know you have your issues with her. But…”
“But?”
Reynold hesitates. He looks again back towards the carriage. Ressa hasn’t said anything since the Goblins. Reassured, he continues talking. Even so, he lowers his voice to a whisper. I practically have to put my ear to his lips to hear him over the rushing wind.
“She is not a bad woman, Miss Ryoka. Driven, yes, but she cares deeply for the fate of her servants and all those living on this continent. If you can create even one of the wonders the others from your world claim—”
“Reynold. Stop talking.”
Both Reynold and I jump in our seats. He twists in his seat, face pale. But the window into the carriage is still closed. I stare at the closed door in amazement. We’re still going at top speed, and the wind is blasting around us. It’s hard just to hear Reynold’s voice, but Ressa was inside the coach.
She heard that? Is it another [Ninja] skill? Or [Assassin]?
What is she?
I have no idea. But her words are enough to scare Reynold witless. He grips the reins of the carriage in a death grip and refuses to talk, no matter what I try. So the rest of the ride passes in silence. But the entire while I’m thinking.
Magnolia. What does she want? She claims not to want to use technology from my world. But I don’t believe her. So what should I do? Help her? Do I have a choice?
How do I get myself out of this one? I’ve got…one option? Two. Mm…maybe three. Three ways to get out of this mess.
Fighting isn’t one of those options. Aside from the fact that I’m pretty sure Ressa is a better fighter than I am, I know how influential Magnolia Reinhart is. Even if by some miracle I ran away, she could have every adventurer, city guardsman and assassin on the continent after me in a heartbeat.
No, I’ve got to talk my way out of this. I just wish I was confident in my ability to do so. So I sit in the cold, apprehensive, trying to bring out all the intelligence, all the wit I have.
But I am afraid. If I were the me of a month ago, I might be so cocksure and brave to think I can get out of this no matter what happens. But now—