Long Live the Emperor: Chapter 15 (Patreon)

Alvin grumbled a little as they walked back to the manor. It was a shame to get the romantic walk he had planned cut short.

Mabel patted his back as he grumbled and mistook it for anger at the carriage driver. “It’s okay. It was just some careless driver. We’ll have you cleaned up. I’ll sneak you through the side entrance near the practice yard. That way, the townsfolk won’t see their favorite baron covered in mud.”

Alvin couldn’t help but notice Mabel had a considerable amount of mud on herself, but she didn’t seem to mind the mess. Of course, it probably helped that she was wearing dirty training equipment, anyway.

“Thank you, Mabel. I’m just sad our walk was cut short,” Alvin sighed.

“Me too.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Alvin had a dozen more lines prepared, but none of them would have been appropriate for their current circumstances. They made it to the manor and snuck in the back.

“Where are the maids when you need them?” Mabel muttered. “Oh well. Take those muddy clothes off, and I’ll haul up the water myself. It can’t be too difficult.”

Before either of them could figure out where or how to fetch water on their own, one of Count Grandhill’s guards came to get them.

“Lady Mabel, Count Grandhill requires your presence in his office immediately,” the guard commanded.

Alvin frowned. Just recently, that had been his office.

“What does father need us for?” Mabel asked.

“An important guest has arrived from Spirit Realm Monastery. He wants to introduce you to him.” The guard’s eyes darted to Alvin. “You should bring former baron Aldrich along as well.”

“Understood.”

Alvin and Mabel marched up the stairs to Aldrich’s old office, where Baron Grandhill was already meeting with their mysterious guest. The door was open, and this time, the guards standing by the door were satisfied after a brief pat down to make sure Alvin didn’t have any weapons on him. Alvin considered that a big improvement over his first visit.

“Father, what’s going on?”

“Ah, Mabel. And you as well, Aldrich. I’m glad you came. I was just about to send someone to call for you,” Count Grandhill said.

“I appreciate you remembering me,” Alvin said politely. But he was busy doing his best not to stare at the man in long, flowing robes. Like the carriage he’d seen on its way into town, those robes bore the symbol of the Spirit Realm Monastery.

The robes reminded Alvin of something a wizard might wear. They were a flowing gray thing with a leather strap around the waist, complete with a wide-brimmed pointed hat of matching color. The only difference between this man and his mental stereotype of a wizard was that this man kept a bejeweled chain propped up against his shoulder instead of a staff. The handle was gold in the shape of a dragon’s head, with a pair of rubies for eyes. From the way the man held it, the cane was closer to a fashion accessory than something he actually needed.

The man himself was decisively less wizard-like than his garb. He had a pencil-thin mustache waxed into points, and the thin strands of beard pointing down like a dagger from his chin matched them in pointedness. His hair was neatly combed beneath his hat, and his manicured nails were even finer than Mabel’s. He clearly never did much physical work, though the leather belt and robes did a good job hiding a soft build.

He held his hands behind his back and had his head slightly up-tilted, so he looked down his nostrils at Count Grandhill. When Mabel and Alvin entered, he’d initially dismissed them after a single glance, but when Count Grandhill addressed Alvin by name, he rolled his eyes to focus on Alvin’s mud-covered form.

“Hmm. So this is the once-famous Baron Aldrich? I know you lost everything, boy, but at least have the decency to clean yourself up now and again. You’re filthy.” The man waved at Alvin’s clothes, which were covered in mud.

“When I heard I was needed, I came right here,” Alvin replied.

“Well, I do wish you hadn’t. After all, you are just a former lord these days. It turns out you can’t win a war on your own, no matter how well you can swing a sword,” the man snorted, then turned, as though dismissing Alvin from his thoughts completely.

“A rude carriage driver coated us in mud!” Mabel argued, taking a step forward, back into the man’s view. “Aldrich is usually quite well dressed. You can’t expect someone to show up in their ball gowns for an unannounced visitor.”

The man briefly narrowed his eyes at Mabel before turning to Count Grandhill.

“Count, do we really need your little girl present for this?”

“She’s a grown woman, and she’ll be the one managing this barony,” Count Grandhill replied. “You’ll need her cooperation if you want to catch your quarry. After all, I have a county to run. I can’t manage this place much longer. I’m returning home as soon as my people arrive and the books are in order.”

The man rolled his eyes back to Mabel. “Fine, she can stay. Where’s a chair? This may take some explaining for the magically illiterate to understand.”

Without asking permission, the man stole Count Grandhill’s chair. He promptly took a seat behind the desk as though claiming the office for himself even as the Count stood beside him. To his credit, Count Grandhill hauled another chair in from behind and positioned himself behind the desk as well.

“I suppose formal introductions are in order for the two of you,” Count Grandhill said as he took a seat. “Mabel, Alvin, this is Magus Terrance from the Spirit Realm Monastery. He will be an important guest in the barony for the foreseeable future.”

“Yes, yes,” Magus Terrance waved his hand. “They can tell from the robes, Count. The monastery has tasked me tracking down a very powerful demon with some history behind her.”

“A powerful demon?” Mabel asked curiously. Count Grandhill leaned closer. This was his first time hearing about the topic as well.

“An exceptionally powerful one. One strong enough to take over a human body, devour its soul, and steer the corpse around like a puppet,” Magus Terrance said grimly. “Knowing this particular demon, she’s probably planning to bring in more of her kind. Left to fester, she’ll probably take over this entire barony. If that happens, Grandhill County will fall within weeks. You know how powerful a mage is. Now imagine hundreds of them. Your warriors would stand no chance, no matter how sharp their swords are.”

Magus Terrance tilted his nose up at Alvin and Mabel. He didn’t think much of their skills as warriors.

Mabel looked concerned, as did Alvin, but for very different reasons.

The demon he was chasing... had to be Clover.

“How do you know it’s a she?” Alvin asked.

Magus Terrance cast Alvin an annoyed look, as though it wasn’t his place to talk. But at Mabel and Count Grandhill’s expectant looks, he answered Alvin’s question.

“This demon spirit in particular is often referred to as the nymph of chaos, and during the reign of the Demon King, she destroyed entire armies in his service. Her power has waned significantly since the death of the Demon King, but she is no doubt a powerful demon spirit still. Truthfully, we’ve been looking for her for centuries, but it wasn’t until recently that our Dreamwalkers were able to pinpoint her location. She’s been picking fights in the Dreamrealm with minor demons, likely to consolidate her power. Through a great deal of divination, we could link her connection to the material plane in the physical world. That link brought our agents here, where rumors of a strange girl came to us. Apparently, one of your herbalists started acting oddly a few years ago. Stupid self-taught country practitioners of the mystic arts are often the first victims of demons. The fools believe they can meddle with powerful forces beyond their understanding just by reading a few dusty old tomes.”

Magus Terrance spat in disgust, leaving a wet, sticky spot on the hardwood floors.

Alvin held his tongue. The herbalist had books on magic — real books on magic! He needed those. And he needed to find out more about Clover. Who was this Demon King the magus was talking about?

Alvin had a few suspicions, but knew he was better off asking Clover than the man before him.

“You know, I’ve heard rumors of an odd girl from just out of town,” Mabel said.

“Exactly. We must find her and capture her.” Magus Terrance stroked his thin, pointed mustache. “My mission is to bring her back to the monastery, where she can be bound and used for good. Furthermore, I need to burn any illegitimate books on dream walking or spirit binding that the herbalist might have accumulated. That knowledge is too dangerous to be left in the hands of the common folk. There is a reason why the Spirit Realm Monastary confiscates all such materials.”

“I see.” Count Grandhill laid his hands on the table. “Well, as always, the Spirit Realm Monastary will have our cooperation. But, daughter, consider this your first test of worth. If you ever want to inherit a plot of land to rule yourself, complete this task.”

“I would much rather you simply place your men under my command,” Magus Terrance protested.

But Count Grandhill shook his head immediately. There was a glint of wariness in his eyes toward the Magus, though Alvin thought he did a good job of hiding it. “No, this will be good training for her. If you need my people to do something, ask her, and she will pass along your orders. If you have trouble with the townsfolk, ask Baron Aldrich for help. Between the two of them, I’m sure they’ll have you heading home within the week.”

Magus Terrance snorted. “I don’t see how a former baron will be much help. It isn’t like he rules over this place anymore.”

Alvin felt his nails digging into his palms. He knew this arrogant, condescending man was insulting Aldrich, not him. But it still annoyed him greatly.

Mabel took one look at Alvin’s face and scowled as she turned back to Magus Terrance. “First of all, if you want us to work together smoothly, don’t talk to my people that way.”

Magus Terrance snorted, and Count Grandhill’s eyebrows rose in surprise at his daughter’s boldness.

“You have some guts, girl. I’ll give you that. But don’t forget whose the magus here, little warrior. If I wanted you dead, you would be, no matter how hard you swung that little sword of yours.” Magus Terrance stood and glanced down at the practice blade on Mabel’s hip with a look of disdain.

But Mabel held her ground. “You will not insult Aldrich like that again.”

Alvin stared at Magus Terrance. Something odd was happening with him. The man stared at his hand for a moment, and purple light accumulated in his palm. Alvin took a step back, but neither Count Grandhill nor Mabel seemed to notice it. The light cast no shadows, as though it existed on another plane from the material one. Something was wrong with that mass of energy. It was like the kinds of things Clover created in the Dream realm. It didn’t belong in the physical world.

Mabel stood strong while Magus Terrance took a step forward and around the desk. She glared at him, and he looked down at her with a derisive smirk. He held up that glowing palm of his and looked like he was about to place that hand on Mabel’s shoulder.

Alvin wasn’t sure what the light signified, but his instincts told him not to trust it one bit. The magus was reaching for Mabel’s head as though to comfort a child by patting her hair. When he did so, that purple light would touch her scalp and do who knew what.

This was bad, very bad. Alvin needed Mabel if he wanted to keep his position in the manor. If she died, he might as well run, and Alvin thought being a baron under house arrest was still infinitely superior to being a peasant without any skills. He needed to protect Mabel.

So Alvin took a step forward again and slid in front of Mabel. Alvin intercepted the glowing hand with his own, making the motion look like a casual handshake.

“Well, it was nice to meet you, Magus Terrance,” Alvin said, meeting the man glare for glare. “But I’m sure you’re very busy making preparations to find this demon of yours. With your arrival, Mabel has quite a bit to do as well. The soldiers stationed here aren’t yet formally under her command. We’ll leave now so she can start telling her officers about your search.”

Alvin felt his hand tingle as the connection broke, and the moment their handshake ended, he knew he had to get out of there as soon as possible. He turned to Mabel and looked pointedly at the door. Mabel took his hint and followed him out, shooting Magus Terrance a glare over her shoulder.

As soon as they were out of sight, Alvin opened his hand. The tingling had continued to grow stronger, and now it was starting to get painful.

“Aldrich? What happened there?” Mabel asked worriedly as she saw Alvin staring at his hand.

“I don’t know, but I think he was using magic. He was about to cast a spell on you.”

“You think so?” Mabel’s eyebrows rose.

“I do. But I intercepted the spell. Now it’s on my hand,” Alvin said. As he spoke, the pain grew into something far sharper, and now it was like someone had driven a nail through the center of his palm. Alvin had to grit his teeth as he walked. “Mabel, I’ll catch up with you later. There’s something I need to do in my room.”

Alvin turned to his door and opened it. It was empty, but he hoped that only meant Clover was hiding somewhere. That was probably wise with Magus Terrance nearby. The guards let him pass without issue.

“Oh... okay. Wait, what’s there to do alone in your room?” Mabel called after him as a scarlet flush filled her cheeks, but Alvin let the door close without responding.




Note:

I am a blob. I am one with my chair. Must sleep. Blaaaarghh....

I sent Paladin 3 to the proofreader. Whew, I was fiddling with that manuscript for a solid month and a half. Feels good to put it out of mind. I could have kept working on it for another week or two, but at the same time I could have kept working on it for another year or two. I might make a few changes here or there, but it'll just be a sentence or two instead of sweeping rewrites. At the end of the day I've already hit the point where Amazon has thrown me off a (financial) cliff, so I've got to get another book out the door unless I want to fade away.

Truth be told, editing is my lowest productivity aspect of the writing process. It always takes way longer than it probably should, especially the final part where I'm looking for typos and making sure lines don't sound stupid. I like writing the story, and I like refining the story and characters. When I get to the point where I'm proofreading or looking for contextual errors though, my hours spent working relative to work done plummets like a rock, so it is really nice to be able to hand off the last part of publishing that I personally find too tedious.

I've actually been thinking about hiring out an editing pass as well from a real editor, in addition to the proofreading. It wouldn't be what you guys might think of as an editor (a real developmental editor who works on the story structure would probably cost me more than my books generate in sales) but a few fellow authors of mine have shared good editors they use for their books to make them sound good and make sure the text reads smoothly while they can go on to write the next book. That sounds ideal to me, because most of the time when editing I'd much rather be writing new content. And that's where I'm more productive anyway, so... potential win win? I don't know yet, but I'd like to.

I crunched the numbers before and for Spellheart it wasn't viable, but for Paladin it is, so I might try that for Amazon Apocalypse 1 (Hoping the new series sells at least moderately well) and try to calculate if the time saved translates to more money earned than spent. If it does, I should hopefully be able to increase my yearly output, which would be great. I have so many novel ideas like Long Live the Emperor that are only delayed because it takes me too damn long to get my existing books to market.

We'll see what happens with that. I'm a bit nervous to pull that trigger though, since at that point with an editor and proofreader I'll pretty much be a real author. I'm not sure I'm ready for that level of responsibility.