“Who are you?”
These were the first words to greet Argrave when he passed through the boundary between the looping Sandelabara and the one within the distortion. When he turned his head to the voice, which he realized belatedly was small and young, he laid eyes upon the small girl that’d been sitting in the hall with King Norman.
The girl wore the same red velvet dress he’d seen earlier, but she sat on the floor while clutching a doll close to her chest. The doll was that of a knight. She didn’t seem afraid of Argrave—defensive, maybe, but not afraid. Her red eyes, pale skin, and dark hair made her seem somewhat vampiric, but simultaneously strangely innocent. Her question made Argrave panic slightly.
“Me?” Argrave put his hand to his chest. “Well, I’m… I’m a… a friend,” he managed, doing his best to appear non-threatening.
She blinked at him a few times, while Argrave stayed as still as a cat. After a while, she slowly relaxed somewhat and began playing with another doll. The other of her two dolls seemed made in her image, but she seemed far more interested in the knight, and positioned herself protectively around it. Though she remained cautious, she did nothing more. Argrave thought her response was rather fortunate, yet… strange. Argrave thought himself rather large and threatening—in a child’s eye, at least—and feared that the girl might do something, call someone. He took the reprieve gratefully, looking around.
Argrave’s connection with Elenore was severed. He couldn’t feel it within his mind. He retained his magic, however, and so activated the lens that the Alchemist had lent him and peered around the room. Immediately, he saw countless things in great clarity. There were crimson distortions in the air, like thick strands of silk, all leading to the small girl. Their source was elsewhere. He saw nothing of the boundary back to where Anneliese and the rest might wait, but the strands did intrigue him. He wanted to follow it, but he thought it’d be best to remain cautious for now.
Argrave kneeled a comfortable distance away from the girl. “Now that you’ve asked me… can I ask who you are?”
The girl looked at him, and her neck stiffened. She practically scrambled to her feet, and as she did an elegant curtsy, and said very deliberately, “I am Princess Sophia Normansdottir.”
Argrave was taken aback by her movements, but said, “It’s very nice to meet you, Sophia. I’m Argrave.”
Sophia grew deathly still, and bit at her lips. “Did I… do it wrong?” He could hear some fear on her voice.
“What?” Argrave tilted her head, and seeing as she looked like she was about to cry, quickly added, “You didn’t do anything wrong, Sophia.”
She let out a big sigh of relief and seemed to swallow tears. “Okay.”
Why did that distress her? Argrave’s thoughts wandered, but he asked, “How old are you?”
“I am seven years old, sir Argwave—Argrave,” she answered, but looked at the ground immediately when she stumbled over the ‘r’ in his name.
She’s just a kid, Argrave thought, smiling at her mistake. He was about to ask more questions when a knock at the door made him flinch. He didn’t flinch as hard as Sophia, though—she stood quickly, grabbed the knight doll, and rushed to a nearby dresser. She hid it away, covering it with clothes and socks. As she did so, Argrave quickly cast an A-rank illusion spell: [Chameleon]. He became invisible.
Sophia was bewildered when he vanished, but became stiff when a maid entered the room and looked about suspiciously. Perhaps she’d heard them speaking. In the end, finding nothing, the maid fixed her eyes upon Sophia. “Princess Sophia. Your father has commanded that you can no longer remain in your room. You are to join him for lunch in two hours.”
Sophia nodded and stared at the ground. The maid knelt, grabbed her hand rather forcefully, and slapped her knuckles with a wooden stick.
“No. A child of King Norman does not stare at the ground,” the maid said, and even as Argrave’s anger rose, things fell into place. He was getting a very solid picture of why Sophia seemed liable to cry whenever she made a mistake. “Now, come. Your hair is a mess. You cannot show any mistakes during your lunch.”
The maid lifted Sophia rather unkindly by her arms. Argrave found himself considering violence, but his pragmatism won out. If he messed up now, this whole thing could fall apart. He triggered the lens of [Minor Truesight], and decided to follow the strands of red silken magic encircling the young princess while he gathered information. He left through the open door that the maid had left.
The web of power woven throughout this castle was infinitely complex. It seemed as though a million spiders had come through this area, using the people of the castle as their building posts. Perhaps Argrave was being naïve, and the young girl was truly behind all of this, but his instinct told him that wasn’t the case. He didn’t rule out the possibility as he wandered invisibly, and along his route he extracted a great deal of information.
This area was indeed called Sandelabara, and all of the people both in the city and in the castle simply called the place ‘Norman’s Castle.’ Though there were people with magic in them, there were no magic users. This city was the capital of the kingdom, and the king was a greatly feared figure. Argrave ran across him a few times. He had a substantial amount of inborn magic, but more notably, his prowess made Orion look like a seven-year-old.
There was something unnaturally powerful within the king—something that Argrave hadn’t noticed on the king in the other side of the boundary, where Anneliese and the rest remained. Argrave tried to see if he was deeply connected to this tapestry of power woven throughout the region, but as far as he could tell, the king was but another person caught up in things.
Princess Sophia was King Norman’s only child. There was something fishy about that, though—people’s words lingered around that term, as though it was wrong to call her that. Argrave suspected an illegitimate child, but he wasn’t entirely certain. Argrave had missed this detail earlier, but now realized that all of the windows had been bricked away, not just the one in Sophia’s room. The employees complained in hushed whispers about the lack of natural light.
Argrave walked through the city, and only there was he able to take off his invisibility. The strands of power were so omnipresent here that Argrave was forced to disable the [Minor Truesight] just to walk around the city with vision. There was a pattern to this madness—a source—but it had thus far eluded Argrave’s detection. The people in the inner city largely refused to talk to him. Only those on the countryside proved any help.
One person in particular caught Argrave’s attention—a bitter old woman who invited him into her home, even despite his armor and suspicious size. They enjoyed some conversation, but there was only so much that an old woman on the outskirts of town could know.
“It’s good to see a man who looks like he knows how to take care of himself. Perhaps things will change around here. The king sent those Flayer Knights around, house to house, and intimidated people,” the old woman informed him.
“Flayer Knights?” Argrave asked.
“Aye,” the old woman nodded. “These are the cruel veterans he used to usurp Good King Charles, skin him, and make bedsheets out of what was left.”
“Mother, you can’t call King Charles that,” a younger man insisted, looking at Argrave in paranoia. “Who knows who this man might be? A kingsman, maybe?”
“I’m old enough to speak my mind, consequences be damned,” she dismissed him. “Now, King Norman would have us forget his son, like he never was. The son he proudly paraded. The son he named his heir.” She looked at her kid. “It might’ve been justified in the case of my son, but King Norman…” she shuddered. “I cannot think of what he did to the child.”
“What was the prince’s name?” Argrave leaned in.
The old woman blinked her eyes. Argrave constantly had [Minor Truesight] working, and he flinched when the strand of power connected to her head writhed. Her eyes went rheumy, then gray. She muttered, “I can’t… I cannot… recall…”
Then, she sagged away lifelessly. Argrave stood in shock, but his shock was outweighed only by that of the son. He charged at Argrave, demanding, “What did you do? Mother? Mom?!” The son looked at him in abject fear as he backed away, then collapsed by his mother’s side. “You… You’re a kingsman. My mother, she… she spoke out of turn. You were right to do that. Please. I have children, and I’ll teach them good. Teach them right. We won’t ever defy the king’s word. Bless the Good King Norman. Blessed be his name.”
Argrave could muster no words. He studied the old woman’s corpse, but could see no trace of what had killed her. He slowly made for the door, cast one uneasy glance back at her body, and left. He walked out to the countryside to gather his thoughts, peering at where the portal to the planet’s core had once been. Now, there was only more country, and any evidence of that magma-wrought chamber was but a memory.
He watched the distance for a moment, questioning in fear if he was truly trapped here. He’d made a very terrible first impression on the citizenry were that the case. As he made to turn away, sudden movement caught his eye. He flipped his head back, and his eyes widened as he spotted a veritable army of golems marching out of thin air. He recognized them at once—the golems of the subterranean mountain people. He watched, considered… yet five seconds later…
“Who are you?”
Argrave whipped his head in alarm at the familiar voice. He stood, again, in Sophia’s room. Alarm set in, and he grabbed at his chest and said, “Good lord… just like Anne said.”
Sophia looked scared, and tried to hide the knight doll behind her back. Argrave examined himself—everything, down from his magic supply to his personal stamina, had returned back the way it was. His mind remained sound so far as he could tell, but when he looked around with [Minor Truesight], he saw something new.
He saw a strand of power, attached to himself. He was a part of this vast formation, now.
Argrave disabled the [Minor Truesight], and knelt down before the princess. “Hello again, Sophia. I may be in a little bit of a jam.”
Sophia blinked in confusion. “I’m not supposed t-to let anyone but friends call me Sophia. It has to be Princess Sophia.” She looked around, then whispered, “B-but I won’t tell anyone. Just don’t tell anyone about Mr. Knight.”
Argrave smiled. “Blackmailing this young? Good job, kid.” She looked confused, and so Argrave took a deep breath and said, “I have a feeling we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other. I’m Argrave.”
Sophia rose to her feet again, and gave the same elegant curtsy he’d seen once before. “I am Princess Sophia Normansdottir. Hello, sir Argwave—Argrave.” She looked at the ground and covered her mouth after her mistake, evidently fearing repercussions.
“Perfect job, Sophia.” As Argrave rose to his feet, the princess looked at him in surprise, shock, and relief. “I have to go now. But I’ll be back. Three hours, I think, if I’ve got a good sense of time. And don’t worry. I’ll help you out.”
Argrave cast [Chameleon], and Sophia looked around in bewilderment. He opened the door and left, surprising the maid on the other side. She couldn’t see him, naturally. He quickly shut the door and cast a simple fire spell at her hair. Argrave walked away as it spread, not sparing a glance backward. When she started to panic, plans formed in Argrave’s head.
Priority one—gather information, especially about the missing prince that kills old ladies when they try and remember his name. Priority two—confirm that, at the end of each cycle, I have five seconds to speak to those on the other side. I saw the golems, just as the Alchemist described, but I can’t be sure yet. And priority three—find out whatever the hell is ensnaring this whole place. Argrave paused before walking down the stairs. People stormed up, chasing after the panicked screams coming from the maid.
Argrave briefly reconsidered his priorities, adding an addendum. And priority zero… Sophia Normansdottir. Is she the adorable little girl she looks like, or am I ensnared in this illusion even worse than I thought?
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