Long Live the Emperor: Chapter 16 (Patreon)

Alvin needed Clover, but she was nowhere to be found.

She’d been lounging naked in his room for a week, but now she’d suddenly vanished. There was only one explanation Alvin could think of. She’d sensed Magus Terrance’s arrival and hid. He’d need to get away from the manor if he wanted to meet with her.

Alvin was pretty sure he knew where to find her. The herbalist whose body she now owned lived out in the forest. That was probably where she was staying to hide from Magus Terrance. But he already knew about the hut, so she wouldn’t be safe there for long. He had to find a way to get to her discreetly and warn her. Maybe he’d even look for those books the magus mentioned as well.

But first, he had to deal with this throbbing pain in his hand. It was growing worse. Now that he had time to sense it more closely, he realized the pain wasn’t physical, like the visual effect. The pain existed on a completely different plane from the physical one. Alvin suspected that if he couldn’t see the magical effects, he wouldn’t be able to feel them either. An ordinary person like Mabel would have been helpless to even notice the effects of this spell, let alone counter it.

But Alvin could, which meant he could probably do something about it. He just needed to focus. He needed to enter the Dreamrealm.

Focus. You’ve practiced this. You’ve trained for this.

Under Clover’s direction, Alvin had entered the Dreamrealm many times by now. He found it tougher now that he actually needed to enter it. Instead of Clover’s gentle guiding hand ushering him into a quiet meditative state, he had his own burning palm constantly distracting him.

But Alvin forced himself to focus, and soon consciousness slipped away. He opened his eyes again to the familiar meadow Clover often brought him to. He sat on a log around the firepit he’d been building after their last training session. He’d sworn then that from now on, he was going to cook everything he ate in the Dreamrealm, and he’d made preparations accordingly.

He half expected Clover to pop up and say hello, but she was nowhere to be found. If she was in the Dreamrealm, she wasn’t hiding here.

If not for his hand, Alvin might have tried looking for her. But he had more pressing matters to concern himself with.

In the Dreamrealm, his hand looked far worse. He realized what he’d seen while awake was nothing but a pale shadow before the creeping writhing tendrils he saw now. There was something in his hand, and it was alive.

It clung to his hand, halfway between a blob of cotton candy and an octopus. It had five main tentacles, but those tentacles soon split up into thousands of smaller tendrils. At the end of each tendril was a tiny mouth that bit and snapped at his skin, like it was biting away chunks of his body and burrowing those tendrils into him.

Magus Terrance had been reaching for Mabel’s head. If this thing was burrowing its way into Alvin’s hand, what would it have done to Mabel’s head?

He stared at the creature before him. His instincts told him it was a parasitic demon. It would latch on to someone and prey on them, weakening their body and senses. Already he could feel his hand growing stuff and useless. But if it had attacked his brain instead, things might be far worse.

Instead of having a useless hand, he’d have a useless head, and his thoughts would become slow and sluggish. If Mabel had turned into an idiot overnight, Magus Terrance would have complete control of the barony.

Alvin wasn’t sure how much control over the creature the magus had, but if he had any at all, Mable might end up as a puppet. Or, at the very least, helplessly obeying his every whim in the hopes that he would fix what he’d done again.

The thought of it made Alvin furious. If he was still the baron, he might have started planning to ensure the magus had an accident during his stay in East Water.

But as angry as he was getting, the thing on his hand wasn’t shaking loose, no matter how he tried to fling it off. He used his good hand to pry at the large tendrils, but that only increased the amount of pain he was feeling. This thing needed to die, but how?

If Clover was here, she could probably kill it with her magic. But Alvin was on his own. He thought about what she’d do. She might make a thorn bush pop out of the ground and skewer the thing right through the center. Alvin tried to do the same with a stick from his firepit.

He had a little success at first. He tore away large chunks of the clump of sickly purple mass burrowing into him. Before long, he’d gotten rid of most that were visible. But that still left a lot of it stuck in his hand and crawling up his arm beneath the skin. He needed to tear all of that out. But how?

Pulling at it did little. There were so many little jaws on each tendril that they dug their way in. A stick wasn’t exactly a surgical instrument either, so he couldn’t cut them out. But maybe he could burn them.

He turned to the firepit. It was already set to light, and he’d found some natural and a bit of rusty steel the last time they wandered the castle ruins. He struck the two together, and the dry tinder he’d had Clover create for just this purpose lit into flame. He fed the fire, clutching his infected hand all the while. It grew, and when it was large enough, Alvin held his hand over it.

The tendrils still half-sunk into his arm withered and writhed. They were on the surface of his body, just below his skin, so they felt the full force of the heat. Alvin felt his skin starting to burn, but everywhere the burn spread, the wriggling stopped. He was putting an end to this parasite. He just needed to endure a little pain.

With a tight-faced grimace, Alvin reached into the fire to grab a stick with a hot ember on one end. He pressed it against his forearm to stop the largest tendril from crawling any further up his arm. It died immediately, and once dead, he tugged it out from the little tail still outside his skin and drew the whole thing out.

Alvin didn’t stop burning himself until he was certain every burrowing mouth was dead. One by one, he tore the tendrils from himself and cast them into the fire. He wanted to make sure this thing was dead.

When the last of it finally stopped moving, Alvin stood with a red and blistered arm. It hurt all over, but this was a plain, natural hurt, not the pain of something burrowing itself into his flesh. He would be alright.

Alvin forced himself to wake up, and he opened his eyes to the real world again.

Sometime during his dream, his hand turned red and blistered. It wasn’t as bad as it had looked in the Dreamrealm, but he did look like he’d stuck his forearm in a pot of boiling water. He was surprised to see the effects of the Dreamrealm carry over to the real world like that. No wonder Magus Terrance thought he could take on a knight. He could probably kill them in the Dreamrealm, and they wouldn’t even know why they were on the verge of death.

Magus Terrance would be a problem. That much was certain. But Alvin had so few tools at his disposal that he wasn’t sure if he could do anything about him other than lie low. The only action he could think to take was to warn Clover. He knew he owed her at least that much for all she’d taught him and for keeping him company while he was locked away in a strange world.

So Alvin came up with a plan to find her. First, he needed a change of clothes since he was still covered in mud. Then he’d need to find Mabel again.

***

Once clean and dressed, Alvin realized he’d need to look for Clover in the real world. Since she wasn’t in his room and she wasn’t in the Dreamrealm, there was only one place he could think of left to check. Coincidentally, that place happened to have a collection of books he was extremely interested in. He wanted to grab those books on magic before Magus Terrance did. Clover was a fine teacher, but she lacked a certain human understanding in her lessons.

If the human who’d once owned Clover’s body had used those books to learn enough to Dreamwalk on her own, Alvin wanted a peek. But to get that peek, he’d need to convince Mabel to let him leave not only the manor but the town of East Water.

Fortunately, when Alvin opened the doors to his room, he found Mabel just on the other side, leaning against the doorframe. She toppled in as soon as he swung the latch open and fell on her face against the wooden floor.

“Mable? Were you leaning against my door?” Alvin asked as Mabel picked herself up off the floor.

“No! I was just... uh... inspecting the manor. Since I’m supposed to be running the place, I had to make sure your door is secure. I was just testing it for strength with my ear,” Mabel explained. “I really didn’t expect you to come out so soon. I thought — oh my, your hand is bright red! Did you burn yourself in there?”

Alvin tugged his sleeve a little lower to hide the burn. He’d have to come up with an explanation for it. He couldn’t exactly say it had gotten there by magic. Or could he? Mabel was the only person he felt he was halfway close to trusting. He didn’t have anyone else to rely on. Should he try to share some of his secrets with her? It might backfire horribly, but it might also bring her closer to his side.

“It was...” Alvin bit his lip in thought as he tried to come up with an excuse.

But Mabel nodded her head sadly and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. You can be honest with me. It was a friction burn, wasn’t it? I hope your little buddy’s okay.”

“What?” Alvin asked in confusion, but Mabel only winked, face flushing redder all the while.

“Don’t worry, I don’t gossip. Really, I don’t. The last time I was at a ladies’ ball, I tried to fence another girl with our embroidery needles,” Mabel said. “Any secrets you share with me are safe!”

Alvin brightened at that, and he shot Mabel a smile. “I’m glad to know I can trust you. I’ll probably be counting on that trust soon. What do you say we redo our romantic walk from before?”

Mabel smiled widely and gave him a gentle punch on the shoulder. “Okay, just don’t throw any more of those sappy lines at me.”

Alvin led Mabel to the stables and requested a pair of horses, some traveling cloaks, and a bundle of food suitable for a meal. That raised some eyes from the guards standing near the stables. Alvin was still technically a prisoner, even if his restrictions had grown considerably more lax as of late.

“Mabel, please order them to do as I asked,” Alvin whispered.

“Oh... uh... do it! That’s an order!”

“Yes, Lady Mabel,” the most suspicious of the guards replied, and soon everything Alvin asked for was brought to him.

“I can’t believe that worked!” Mabel whispered to Alvin as she mounted her horse right beside him.

“Your father left you in charge. You’re going to need to get used to giving orders. After all, you’ll be running this barony.” Alvin pressed his heels against his horse’s side. The instinctual control over the horse he was riding wasn’t as strong as he’d felt before, but he was a bit more conscious of what he was doing now that he wasn’t pressed for time and under tremendous stress. He made a careful note of how his memories told him to sit and roll with the horse as it trotted. He felt a bit better when he actually knew what he was doing instead of relying on Aldrich’s lingering muscle memory.

“I suppose so. I hope I can count on you to help me lead. After all, you know this barony far better than I do.” Mabel patted her horse’s side, and her mare sped up to trot alongside his.

There were more guards on the outskirts of East Water, keeping an eye on who came in and out of the settlement. Most were leaning on their spears and looked closer to falling asleep than charging into battle, but someone must have recognized Alvin because a call went up among the guards.

“Tell them to stand down,” Alvin instructed.

“Stand down, all of you! Baron Aldrich is with me!”

“The Count said Baron Aldrich was to remain within the settlement pending further orders!” the captain of the guard shouted. His armor clanked as he hurried to slam his helmet on his head. In doing so, he dropped his spear, so instead of bending over while he was blocking the gate and looking imposing, he just snatched a weapon out of the hands of one of his subordinates.

“The Count and I have come to an understanding. I gave him my oath of parole,” Alvin said to the captain.

“I told you he’s with me. This should be perfectly fine.” Mabel waved at Alvin and herself.

“I have orders straight from your father, young lady.”

Alvin scowled. “And you also have orders from Count Grandhill that Lady Mabel is in charge in his absence. If I’m not mistaken, he left not an hour ago. Have you forgotten what he said so quickly?”

“I am obeying--“

“Obeying your own whims. The lady of this barony just gave you an order, captain. To not obey it would be treason,” Alvin said.

“My count--“

Alvin cut the captain off again. “Guards, place the captain under arrest to await Lady Mabel’s judgment.”

The guards glanced at one another, unsure of what to do. Mabel, too looked confused. She was used to being told no by her father’s people. Seeing Alvin throw her name around like it held real power was strange to her.

“Wait!” the captain said as soon as he sensed division within his ranks. He knew as well as Alvin did how bad a broken chain of command could be for a company of soldiers or guards. And there was a good chance he was misinterpreting the Count’s wishes, anyway. He had truly just placed Lady Mabel in charge of the barony, so perhaps her new orders really did override his old ones. So, he yielded before Mabel. “Apologies, my lady. I trust that you have things well in hand. Men, open the gates!”

And just like that, Alvin was a free man. A long dirt road opened wide before him, and it struck him how terribly easy it would be to just ditch all his plans and flee on his horse to lands unknown. Mabel would probably let him go.

But as he considered the option, he turned back to look at Mabel’s face. She gazed back at him with eyes full of adoration.

“That was amazing, Aldrich! I’ve never seen the captain yield to anyone besides my father!” Mabel gushed.

“It was nothing. If you weren’t standing there behind me in support, I wouldn’t have stood a chance,” Alvin chuckled, hand smoothing out the hair on the back of his head.

“You’re too humble. You have a way with words, you know. You know how the captain and his men tried to mock you after I captured you? You didn’t see it, but as soon as you were inside, a peasant girl demanded he give away all the fruit he’d gathered to throw at you to the hungry children you pointed out. The crowd grew so rowdy he and his men retreated to the barracks.”

Alvin chuckled. “Is that right? I would have loved to see him running away with his tail between his legs.”

“Ha! Well, keep it up, and he’ll either try to murder you or be jumping at your every order! I saw the way he was looking at you back there.”

They rode out of sight of East Water so that Alvin was certain they wouldn’t be overheard.

“Remember what you were saying before about secrets? About how you’d be willing to keep mine if I shared them with you?”

“I remember.”

“Good, I have something to share with you.” Alvin brought his horse around, so he stood face to face with Mabel. She pulled on her reins, and her horse went still. The wind went silent as she sensed the seriousness in Alvin’s tone.

“Well, out with it then. I’m not one for drama and suspense.”

“You remember the demon that Magus Terrance is after? Well, it turns out I know her?”

“You... know the demon?”

“I do. She’s not evil, just a little odd.”

“Aldrich, demons take over people’s bodies, devour their souls, and use dark magic to control the minds of others. They’re abominations!”

Alvin pursed his lips. “Do you know what Magus Terrance tried to do to you? Back there in his room, I mean. He was preparing to cast a spell on you, but I interrupted it. I’m pretty sure it was supposed to take over your mind and place you under his control.”

“What?”

“There’s definitely an abomination afoot in East Water, Mabel. But it isn’t the one you think.”

Alvin nudged his horse and started moving again.

Mabel trotted along right behind him, brows furrowed in thought.

“Come on. If we can find her hut, maybe you can talk to her and find out for yourself.”


Note:

I face-planted into the creative equivalent of a wall when I did the first draft of this chapter two days ago. I'm not really sure why, but heavens above that first version took all day and ended up being total crap.

I thought I would have to table the story for a few days again, but after midnight last night the scene suddenly clicked and I rewrote the whole thing in one session and ended up liking it. Writing is weird. If only I had been able to do that the first time I would have saved a whole day of work, haha.