4.20 E (1/2)

There’s a feeling I’ve had once before. That of standing on the edge of a cliff.

It’s a different sensation than you’d expect for someone who’s blind. Because, obviously, any time I stand on a ledge higher than three feet, I can’t tell how far the ground below is. I’ll feel the missing space with my walking cane and back away.

But a cliff? A cliff is different. I have to know it’s there for it to be really special. As it happened, I was standing on a ledge on the side of a mountain and when I was told what was below, I tossed a rock over the edge.

I never heard it hit the ground. It was probably too far for my ears to pick up and it was a windy day. But that—that convinced me. And the feeling of standing on the edge of something I couldn’t fathom was truly frightening. And exhilarating.

The unknown. A future I can’t predict. If I was told there was a path forwards, a thin ledge to stand on while the abyss howled around beneath me, would I have the courage to keep going?

I don’t know. But this is my only choice. I, Laken Godart, am an [Emperor]. I know what I must do. There’s no going back.

So I suppose…this would be a fine way to die.

Day 55

“Laken? Laken, wake up. You’re snoring.”

Someone pokes me and I wake up. I jerk upright, and look around. I don’t bother opening my eyes. There are some reactions that I suppose some people instinctively perform, but eye-related activities are generally a waste of time for me. I can’t see.

I can hear, however, so I turn my head and look slightly miffed in the direction the voice and the poke came from. It takes my brain a second to process why I was woken up, and then open my mouth to scold.

“Durene. I was having an enjoyable nap. What’s wrong with me snoring?”

“It’s not very noble. You said that an [Emperor] should be dignified in all situations. Snoring isn’t.”

I sigh and sit back. I’m back in reality and I can feel reality around me now. What was I thinking of? I was just dozing, remembering the past, perhaps. I remember a cliff…now I can feel a hard surface beneath me, and a rumbling and forward motion. I’m on a wagon, and it’s just past noon, or so I’m told.

“Snoring is a very human trait, Durene. Not just human either—it’s a natural thing everyone does. Even if I am an [Emperor], I’d expect anyone to understand that I snore and sleep like everyone else.”

“Yes, but you were also drooling. That’s not dignified.”

The voice, deep and female, points that out. I brush at my face and find she’s right. I scowl and sigh.

“Fine. I’ve stopped. But you could have just let me sleep. There’s no one to see me drooling, objectionable as that may be.”

“No, I think one of the adventurers is coming. So I had to wake you.”

Durene’s voice is self-assured and confident. I have to look my best when strangers are around, therefore I must be awake. I sigh, but give up the argument. Instead I lean back into my seat and center myself in the world. Where am I? What am I doing? I’m sitting in a wagon. Existential problems solved.

I’m on the road again. Or more accurately, I’ve been on the road for the last four days. If I’m honest, it’s not actually me on the road. I’m just sitting on a bumping wagon while a rather smelly horse pulls me along. Sitting in a very comfortable seat of padded cloth that Durene and Gamel worked up for me of course, but it does get boring.

Hi. I’m Laken. An [Emperor]. I’m currently travelling down a cleared road of dried mud, sitting in a wagon while my girlfriend—or perhaps lover—walks beside the cart. She’s too big to ride with me and Durene say she prefers to walk. I would too—it’s good for the legs, but it’s just a bit too likely that I’ll have my foot crushed by a wagon wheel for me to risk it.

Honestly, a 1% chance of having my foot get run over by a rolling mass of several tons of weight is too much for me. So I sit and talk with her, or occasionally Gamel, who walks and sometimes sits on the wagon. He’s one of my subjects, a young man from a village called Riverfarm.

“Mister Laken! I think we’re only a few miles from Riverfarm if that’s the place your man Gamel has described, sir!”

A voice shouts at me and I turn my head in the direction of the call. I raise a hand towards the adventurer. That’s Beniar, the leader of the Windfrozen Riders. He’s a [Rider], and one of the two Silver-rank adventurer groups that I hired to escort me and protect the village.

I hear hoof beats, and then someone rides up to the wagon. I sigh. Not because I’m unhappy about reaching Riverfarm—on the contrary, I can’t wait to be back. One of the reasons why is because it means I’ll have more space from Beniar. He’s a chatterbox and annoying.

“Allow me to say, sir, that it’s been a pleasure escorting you this far. I hope you’ll recommend my team to the Merchant’s Guild and for future assignments. Not that our job is ended—we’ll be patrolling around your village for the month, as you know. So I hope to work together well with you, sir. Or is that my lord?”

I don’t need eyes to hear the impudent tone in Beniar’s voice, or know that Durene’s probably scowling at him. To stop her from arguing with the young man, I smile in his direction.

“My lord is acceptable, Beniar. Sir, your majesty, or any other title you’d prefer to give me I would also be content with, however. Thank you for telling me. You may go.”

That throws him. I hear Beniar’s horse lag behind for a moment, and then a cough. Durene giggles, his voice sounds strained.

“Ah, yes sir. We’ll signal the village that we’re arriving. I uh, well, I’ll be going.”

He rides off. Durene starts laughing out loud and I think Beniar can hear her. I smile, but covertly, so that if he looks back he won’t see.

“Shush, Durene. That’s not nice. Beniar is a good sort, even if he’s…inquisitive.”

That doesn’t stop Durene, of course. My half-Troll lover, protector, and sometimes nap-waker has not enjoyed Beniar’s company. He’s just a bit too fond of bragging about his accomplishments—which are decent, enough for his team to be called Silver-rank despite his age—and a bit too interested in who I am.

I arrived in Invrisil, the city of adventurers and one of the hubs of the northern part of the continent around a week ago. I caused a stir and spent lavishly at the Merchant’s Guild there—buying supplies for Riverfarm, magic-users with flame spells to clear the snowy roads so I could ride back, and hired two Silver-rank teams to protect my village.

That’s a lot of money, and a lot of influence to be used for a no-name village in the middle of nowhere. By the time I left the city, several days after Ryoka Griffin delivered aid to my village and then disappeared in a carriage owned by Magnolia Reinhart, rumors were flying about exactly who I was and what my interests were.

I received several invitations from reputable [Merchants], [Bankers], adventurers, and so on, and refused them all. Is it any wonder people like Beniar want to know if I’m some sort of rich lordling or other important figure? The information could be worth a lot and help a young adventurer with his career. So he’s pestered me and bragged shamelessly on the four-day trip. I understand, but just wish he were as adept socially as he is with a sword.

Apparently I’m not the only person with that view. I hear an indignant murmur from my left, and then a voice. Gamel speaks up for the first time, and I hear the snow crunch as he paces to the left of my wagon. He has to work to keep up, unlike Durene, but he seems to think only I deserve the comfort of the wagon.

“He shouldn’t be so direct with you, sire. He should be bowing and saying your majesty without it being a joke.”

I sigh again as Durene voices her agreement from my left. Here I am with my two vassals who seem to think everyone should bow and kiss my smelly feet every two seconds. And soon, I’ll be in the midst of a village full of them. How will I manage?

Well, I have a few ideas. And of course, I must manage. I am their [Emperor]. I accepted the responsibility when I saved Riverfarm from an avalanche. Getting the [Emperor] class was almost a joke, a chance decision. However, I have embraced what I am now. I have a duty. I cannot turn my back on it now.

So I straighten my back. I am an [Emperor]. And if I am, there are some things I have to get right. Starting now. After all, there is a problem with my subjects telling me how I should be treated. They mean well, but that’s their opinion. I have mine, and they have to understand that. And obey.

“Gamel, I appreciate your input. And yours of course, Durene. But please understand this: I will be treated like a commoner, disrespectfully, flippantly, and sometimes rudely by the people I meet. That is not their fault. They do not know I am an [Emperor], or if they do, they might not believe. That does not mean you two should reprimand them. In fact, I insist you do not. I order you not to. Is that understood?”

Durene’s laughter cuts off. I can’t see Gamel, but I imagine him straightening up, flushing.

“I’m terribly sorry, sire.”

“Enough of that. I told you, sir, or my name is fine.”

“Yes…sir.”

And here comes the hard part. I modulate my tone; try to explain why I say what I do. It’s one thing to command, another to lead. I was told that just recently. I may be an [Emperor], but I must inspire and teach, not just tell.

“The reason why I say this is because titles are meaningless to me, Gamel. No, don’t gape. I may be an [Emperor], but being called and treated like one isn’t strictly necessary. Yes, I insist on respect, but that comes in a different way from people I meet. I would rather know how people feel about me than ruin their impressions of me and mine of them from the start. Rudeness of course is different, and you can be offended about that. But simple ignorance or casual incivility is to be welcomed, I think.”

There’s a thoughtful silence from Gamel after that, and I hope I’ve reached him. However, Durene’s voice is troubled.

“But Laken, if you’re an [Emperor]—”

I raise a finger and she breaks off. Where has this come from? Durene’s changed a lot from the timid girl I met in the forest almost two months ago. Oh, she’s mainly the same, but she’s bolder now. She’s gotten a lot more opinionated—mostly about how I should be treated. That doesn’t’ mean she’s right of course.

“Durene, I understand your concerns. However, my ego is large enough that I don’t need to be called ‘your majesty’ every two seconds. Think of it from my perspective.”

“How do you mean?”

I smile slightly.

“I am an [Emperor]. You know that. Gamel knows that. And I know that. That fact will never change. Why should what other people say or believe matter? I know who I am. That’s all I need.”

“Wow.”

Durene’s voice sounds awed, and Gamel makes a similar noise. I sigh. It really wasn’t that special. It’s just about self-confidence. But perhaps neither Durene nor Gamel has ever thought about life in that way. They both grew up in a tiny village. Gamel can barely read; Durene can’t.

Neither one knows about psychology, economics, mathematics, germ theory…so much. They know a lot about living, and they’re good people who don’t need the rest to survive. But it could help them. So now and then I try to teach.

Unfortunately, every action has consequences. And my little speech has roused the final occupant of the wagon. I hear a screech and flapping wings. I sigh.

“Frostwing, shut up.”

The loud shrieking cuts off. I turn in my seat and get up onto my knees. It’s not hard to find the perch anchored to the top of a bag of grain—although I do get my fingers in a bit of fresh bird droppings. I grimace and then find Frostwing. The bird recoils a bit from my touch, and then rubs her head against my palm.

Frostwing. I have a bird, by the way. She’s just a fledgling, but she’s getting bigger each day—she’s already about as long as my hand and forearm. I wonder how large she’ll get by the time she finishes growing.

She allegedly has blue feathers, the better to hide in the sky, I suppose. I’m still not sure if Durene’s playing a trick on me. I keep thinking that blue is an odd color in a bird—but I can’t remember what eagles and hawks are supposed to look like from my world. I…think they have brown and white feathers, but honestly, listening to descriptions of birds isn’t like seeing them. It doesn’t stick in the mind.

Or so I would imagine.

Right now it seems like Frostwing wants to learn to fly. She keeps flapping her wings on her perch as I find her head and stroke it. A beak pokes my hand gently and I sigh.

“I think she’s hungry. Again. Gamel, do you have—”

“Some jerky. Here, sire.”

Gamel’s already got the dried meat ready. I break some off as Frostwing tries to snatch the entire strip from me. She’s voracious, but I am her owner—and a [Beast Tamer], so I scold her and force her to take pieces from my hand one at a time.

I’m not sure this is how you raise birds, but hey, I’m giving it my best shot.

Lecturing Gamel and Durene, talking to nosy adventurers, and dealing with my pooping bird take up a good amount of time after I’ve woken up. However, I must admit that for an [Emperor], someone with a class who’s supposed to rule over countless people and an empire, this isn’t exactly very fulfilling. I’m restless, and I want to be in my village soon. There I’ll be able to see…in a way.

And there’s so much to do. I have a thousand and one things I know I have to take care of, but I’ve been confined to the wagon for the trip. When I am outside of the lands I own, I am blind and to some degree, helpless. This world is filled with monsters and I must rely on other people for help.

Like any good [Emperor], in fact. There’s some irony to that. But I’m keenly aware that as loyal as Durene and Gamel are, and as faithful as the villagers of Riverfarm seem to be, they’re not exactly capable of everything. None of them are fighters, although I wouldn’t ever bet against Durene. But despite her having a [Paladin] class, she’s never been in a life-or-death battle, and there are dangerous monsters in this world.

Not that I’ve ever seen one. I’m blind. If I’m in a situation where a monster is close enough for me to hear or touch, I’m probably dead since running away when blind is very, very difficult.

So the adventurers like Beniar are essential. Not just now, but in the future. I have thought and been advised on the future. That’s why when the second adventurer rides towards my wagon, I make sure Frostwing’s poop is off my hands and try to look as dignified as Durene thinks I should be.

“Mister Laken, may we have a word? It’s me, ah, the leader of the Celestial Trackers.”

I hear a young woman’s voice, and then another as two adventurers ride down towards me from the wagons ahead. Did I mention the other wagons? Some of the adventurers not riding next to the wagon I’m on are filling the ones ahead and behind me. I, as an important person, get a wagon to myself.

“Certainly. Come by this side and we can talk.”

I move over to the right side of the wagon and hear Durene making room for the horse. Someone else speaks politely to me, the owner of the second horse.

“I am here as well, sir.”

I nod. I’ve met these two adventurers as well, and they’re considerably easier to work with than Beniar is.

“Wiskeria and Odveig, right?”

“That’s right. We were hoping to speak with you about our duties when we reached the village, Mister Laken. Is now a bad time?”

“Certainly not. Did you have any concerns? What are your expectations from what the Merchant’s Guild hired you for?”

The two confer as I wait patiently. Odveig is the leader, a [Macewoman], and Wiskeria is her subordinate. They lead the Celestial Trackers. Well, Odveig is the one who calls herself the leader, but I feel like Wiskeria is the brains behind the group. She’s a [Witch], a specialized type of [Mage] who can apparently use spells to hinder her opponents and brew potions and use spells to assist her friends.

In short, she’s fascinating and I’ve wanted to talk with Wiskeria, but haven’t had much time to do so. In the few interactions I’ve had with their team, I got the sense that Odveig is rightly paranoid that Wiskeria might take her place as the leader of the group. Wiskeria herself seems disinterested in the role of leader, but she’s far too sharp to be excluded from the decision-making process.

Which is why both of them are here now. Odveig is the first to speak to me. She has a husky voice, and a very pleasant tone with a slight accent on the ‘th’ sounds she makes.

“Generally, these sorts of contracts have us patrol an area by day and night, Mister Laken. We ah, are expected to be fed and given adequate shelter, but that’s all our contract entails. We can hunt and scavenge for our own provisions, but that generally takes up a good deal of the time we’re supposed to be guarding, you see…”

“Food is not an issue, Miss Odveig. And I’m sure we can find indoor spots for your entire group—unless you’d prefer camping in the tents you brought. As you know, there are not many buildings in the village that can be used, but we’ll try to accommodate you as best we can.”

“We do appreciate that, sir. May I ask what trouble you’re expecting? Hiring two Silver-rank teams is not—not—”

She stumbled on her words and Wiskeria took over. Her voice is quieter, smoother, and precise. It makes me think she’s had some kind of formal education—or perhaps it’s just her personality.

“Two Silver-rank teams are generally only called for when protecting areas at immediate risk of monster attacks, sir. To escort so many wagons two teams is quite appropriate, but we’re afraid our services might be considered wasted when guarding an entire village for a month.”

I smile. Do they fear inactivity, or that I’ll try to pay them less? Their fee has already been paid—half now, and half held by the Adventurer’s Guild when they return. Either way, I should reassure them.

“Call me paranoid, Miss Odveig, Miss Wiskeria. But I feel that two Silver-rank teams are better than one, and both are essential in case trouble comes to Riverfarm. That might not happen, in which case you’ll have a quiet month. However…if it does happen I’d rather be ready for it, which is why I’m willing to pay for the best.”

“You’ll get that, Mister Laken, rest assured!”

My words seem to reassure and invigorate Odveig, who I’m sure is sitting straighter on her saddle. Wiskeria takes a more measured response.

“In that case, we’ll set about ensuring there are no threats to the village, sir. And if there turns out to be no threats nearby…will you have us patrolling the entire duration?”

“That’s a good question. I wouldn’t like to waste your time, and if you find nothing, I’m sure your group doesn’t all need to scout at once. I’d be fine letting your groups train or…doing whatever you feel is necessary. However, my village is in need. Could your groups help rebuild? A few hands to help lift and carry things would be welcome.”

Another brief moment of whispering, and then Wiskeria speaks up.

“I’m sure our party can send some of our group to assist with whatever rebuilding is necessary, or lend our Skills where we can once we’re sure the area is secure, sir. I expect the Windfrozen Riders have useful Skills in their group as well. We may be able to hunt for game as well, once again, after ensuring the area is clear of monsters.”

“Excellent. I will speak with you when we reach the village, then. I’m told it’s just an hour or two away?”

“We should be arriving within the hour, sir.”

“Very good. Thank you.”

They withdraw. I sit back in the wagon and after a moment, Durene steps up next to me.

“You aren’t expecting trouble, are you, Laken? I’ve heard monsters and bandits like to prey on villages that get into trouble.”

Her voice is worried, and I nod while turning my head up to the sky. It’s still so cold out here! Winter in this world doesn’t play around. Thank goodness for blankets and thick coats.

“I had the same thought. That’s why we have two Silver-rank teams, Durene. They’ll deal with most problems quite easily, unless I miss my guess.”

“That’s true. I haven’t heard of any village rich enough to hire a Silver-rank team, let alone two!”

Durene’s voice beams with pride at that simple fact. I laugh, and lean back.

“Yes, yes. Don’t let it get to your head. I’m going to take a nap now, Durene. Without snoring or drooling, hopefully. Wake me when we get close to the village, will you?”

“Okay.”

It feels like I’ve just closed my eyes when a broad finger pokes me awake. I hear Durene at the same time as her voice.

“Laken! We’re here!”

I don’t need to be told that. The instant I sit up, I hear a huge mass of voices cheering like wild, making Frostwing wake up and panic on her perch. But that’s not the special bit.

The special bit is that I can see all the villagers cheering me, see the adventurers guarding the convoy of wagons gaping, see the people of Riverfarm rushing towards me, waving their arms and calling my name.

Well, see is a strong word. It’s more like a vision in my mind. A…sense, if you will. I call it sight because that’s the closest thing I can think of to this power I have.

As an [Emperor], I own Riverfarm. I claimed it to save the village, and as it turns out, whatever land I possess, I can sense, down to the smallest rock. I know instinctively that Riverfarm has eight buildings that have been excavated of snow—three more than when I left—and nearly thirty buildings still buried beneath. I can sense Durene hovering by the wagon and beaming while Gamel stands up on another and waves to his sweetheart.

I can see. That’s the gift of my class and it is worth beyond worth to me. However, my ‘sight’ has its limits. I see expressions, open mouths, and so on and moving outlines of people, but there is no color in my mind, and no detail. It’s more like what I imagine a bat’s echolocation might describe the world as. I see shapes, but not nuance.

It’s good enough. It’s more than enough. However, it means I do still need to rely on others for some things. I stand up from the wagon and hear the villagers shouting my name.

“Laken! [Emperor] Laken!”

“Your majesty!”

“Our [Emperor] has returned! Praise Emperor Laken!”

“The Unseen Empire! Emperor Laken!”

That last cry makes me start a bit. The Unseen Empire? Now how did they…? Oh, right! I once claimed Riverfarm as part of the Unseen Empire. It’s a fitting name, if embarrassing.

However, the cheering is genuine and it puts a smile on my face. I don’t deserve it, but I did save a lot of the village after the avalanche. I’m touched by their belief in me. I raise a hand, and they go wild.

I imagine this is what being a celebrity feels like. As I step down from the wagon people rush to surround me. I clasp hands, let people gently touch me, and then Durene and Gamel are forcing people to stand back. And just like that, the wild exuberance turns into deference as the villagers form a path for me to enter the village.

I can sense Prost waiting with some of the older villagers. I’m anxious to talk to him, but I can’t help it. I nudge Durene and she bends down so I can whisper to her.

“Psst, Durene. Describe the faces of the other adventurers to me.”

I can sense them, well, most of them, the ones within the village’s radius. In my picture of the world all of the adventurers are standing stock still, gaping. However, I want to know what their expressions are like. I can sense Durene as she straightens, and then I hear her voice, full of merry laughter.

“They can’t believe it! Beniar’s face is—I think his eyes are going to pop out of his head! And Odveig looks like she’s going to choke!”

She sounds gleeful. In fact, Durene might have been waiting for this moment. I never mentioned my true nature to Odveig or Beniar—people assumed I was some sort of noble, or a very rich stranger, but an [Emperor]? I can’t imagine what they’re thinking at the moment. I nudge Durene one more time.

“And Wiskeria?”

“Oh. She’s…staring at you.”

“Does she seem surprised?”

“Yeah, but she’s not gaping or anything…why?”

“Nothing much. I just wanted to see how she’d react. Quick thinking and being able to adjust to any situation is important.”

“Okay?”

She doesn’t get it, but Wiskeria is already part of my plans. I stride towards Prost and the other villagers as people shout my name.

Emperor Laken. I guess I can’t hide that fact any longer. And as I think that, I wonder if Wiskeria or the other two [Mages] in the adventurer groups can cast the [Message] spell. If they can…word about me might be spreading very quickly.

I smile faintly. Oops. The secret’s out of the bag. Not that I had any real hopes of keeping my class secret. But the dice have been cast. What will happen next?

It’s odd, but I actually think I know.

Day 56

The first day after I came back to Riverfarm was pure chaos, plain and simple. It was already late when I returned, and between hearing Prost and the other villagers fall over themselves to thank me—and assure me they hadn’t eaten all of the food Ryoka had brought—I was hard pressed to get a word in.

Or rather, because I’m an [Emperor], my words cause a complete hush and everyone has to listen to what I say, rather than let my voice be one of the many and get work done. Ah, well, we had a banquet on that first night and that’s probably all I was going to get done anyways.

A celebration to welcome an [Emperor] back. More than that, a celebration because I brought back exactly what I promised. Food for Riverfarm, supplies, tools to help rebuild, and adventurers to keep them safe. Everything the village needed to start rebuilding.

And now it’s the day after. I slept like I was in a five-star hotel in Durene’s cottage. My blankets and pillow felt like they were made of silk or clouds, and I woke up feeling full of energy. That’s thanks to my Skill as an [Emperor]—[Empire: Blessing of the Hearth]. It makes sleeping pleasant, even if you only have the floor and some blankets for a bed.

I’m grateful for that. My subjects need their rest, and lots of energy. Because today I’m going to start…everything.

“Laken, do you want eggs?”

“Sure, Durene. Give me some bacon too. No, Frostwing, you can’t have any. This is my bacon. Peck me, and I’ll halve your breakfast, understand?”

Breakfast is quick, serene, and over in a flash. Once I leave the cottage I find several people waiting for me. Waiting in the cold, although not in the snow since Durene shoveled her pathway this morning.

Prost, Gamel, Odveig, Beniar, and Wiskeria are all waiting for me by the time I come out with Durene. I’m surprised Gamel’s here, but I suppose he thinks of himself as my personal manservant. Prost speaks for the villagers, so his presence makes sense. As for the adventurers…well, at least they’re ready to work.

“Ah, Mister—that is to say, Emperor—ah—”

Beniar calls out hesitantly as I walk towards him, a smile on my face. I can hear him tripping over his words and imagine his blush. Gamel and Prost bow deeply to me as soon as I come near, and the other adventurers awkwardly imitate them.

I think they’re still reeling from the revelation that I’m an [Emperor], to be honest. Well, it makes sense. In their world, a class defines who you are. So if I have an [Emperor] class…I’m an [Emperor]. Simple as that.

“Let’s not dwell on formalities, Beniar. I told you any form of address was suitable. Sir works well.”

“Ah. Oh? Yes sir! Uh—”

Wiskeria clears her throat. She seems the least tongue-tied, as I had expected. I glance towards her and notice how she’s watching me. I think the other adventurers are surprised as well; I’ve forgone my walking cane and move about surely on Durene’s land. Because of course, I can see as well as anyone else now. Better, perhaps.

Whatever her thoughts, Wiskeria politely bows her head as she speaks. She doesn’t stumble over her words.

“Do you have orders for us, sire? We’ve made a small camp next to the village and we’ve got a good sense of the immediate area. We only need your word to start scouting the landscape. If we could speak with some of the locals who know the area, that would help as well.”

I nod thoughtfully. Adventurers…I have a lot I’d like to talk to them about, especially Wiskeria, but for now I need to talk to Prost more. So I let them do their job.

“If your group will divide the scouting and patrolling with the Windfrozen Riders, I’d be most grateful. I believe I will talk with Odveig and Beniar more specifically about their duties later—but as you can see I have a lot to do.”

“Of course, sire. We’ll get to work right away.”

Wiskeria nods to Odveig, and then has to drag both her and Beniar away. They’re still staring, which I have to say, I’m getting more used to. I turn to Prost as Durene joins me with Frostwing perched on her shoulder. The bird pecks at Durene’s cheek as I smile at Prost.

“Farmer Prost. How has the village been since I left? I’m told you got the food I had delivered to you alright—did you have an enjoyable Christmas? I hope my Runner, Ryoka, explained what that was.”

Prost starts, and I think he’s surprised at my warm greeting. Well, we did have an unpleasant first few encounters where he was against me and Durene living together. After I saved the village he was falling over himself to help me, and his attitude’s much better. For my part, I haven’t forgotten the past, but Prost lost his youngest boy in the avalanche. That kind of pain…no, I would never hold a grudge after all that has happened.

“Miss Ryoka, your majesty? Oh, she came by not a week ago—we were so grateful for her arrival we wept, sire. It was a blessing, and the food she brought—I know I said it too much yesterday, but the village can’t thank you enough, your majesty.”

“Sir, or sire’s fine, Mister Prost. Don’t worry about the titles—I’ve told Gamel the same. But now I’m back, and I’ve got all I promised.”

“More food and supplies? Your m—sire, I have to tell you that we’ve been rationing what Miss Ryoka brought. We made sure to not overeat, and I think we could stretch it till the spring if that’s all that could be bought.”

Responsible, thoughtful…the villagers of Riverfarm aren’t idiots, for all they once were small-minded. You can’t be stupid and live out here, where a bad harvest might mean starvation if you hadn’t planned ahead. I wave a hand and start heading down to the village, speaking to Durene, Prost, and Gamel all at once.

“Ryoka delivered a good bit of food, but hardly all of what I bought, Mister Prost, Miss Yesel. Don’t fear, we’ve enough food to last us the winter and a good ways into the spring. However, making sure we have food for the times after that is one of our biggest priorities right now.”

“Yes sir. We’ve been digging out more of the buried buildings, but it’s painfully slow work…but with you and Durene here, I’m sure we’ll do all that needs doing!”

“About that. I think clearing the snow is a good start, and so I hope I can ask you, Durene, to help. Gamel can also lend a hand…I’ll speak with Mister Prost about other matters, unless there’s something pressing?”

“Nope! I can do that, Laken. I’m ready for work, and there’s an extra-large shovel in the wagons I can use!”

Durene’s clearly ready for hard work, and she hands Frostwing to Gamel, who’s gotten used to handling the cranky bird. I nod to Gamel. If he’s my assistant—and he’s very loyal and does what I ask him to—then I should use him as one.

“Can you ask Odveig and Beniar if their [Mages] can use their spells to melt the snow, Gamel? I know you know some fire magic, but I believe some experienced spellcasters might help quite a bit with the excavation.”

“At once, sire.”

He and Durene head towards the village. I can sense the villagers waiting for me, but a few shouted words from Prost and they disperse. After shouting greetings at me, of course. I walk slowly with Prost around the village, making my way over huge drifts of snow.

The avalanche that hit Riverfarm buried almost all of it. Some houses were only half-consumed by the snow, but in the first few days after the disaster the villagers couldn’t walk without sinking into the deep snow. At the moment there’s a good section of the village that’s been cleared of snow, but there are still walls of hard snow and ice.

Prost is busy showing me the new houses the villagers have dug out. I can sense how battered the buildings are. Oh, the supports have held in most, but the wood is broken in countless places from the sheer force behind the avalanche. It will take a lot of doing to restore the buildings to any sense of working order, and there are still fields buried in the snow, dead animals still frozen where they were engulfed, scattered tools and belongings…

“It’s a mess, Emperor Laken. I’d despair at restoring anything at all if you weren’t here, I really would. Most villages suffer a disaster like this and, well, it’s over. We’d have to pack up and move, what few of us survived. It’s that or starve or freeze or be eaten by monsters.”

“Not exactly a pleasant choice, Mister Prost. However, even with what I brought, rebuilding Riverfarm will be a chore and a half. I hope everyone knows that.”

“Aye, we do. Don’t fear sire, we’re no strangers to hard work and we’ll do whatever you think is best.”

I can sense Prost nodding as he takes me around the barn, the main hub of the new village. There are simple beds inside, piles of recovered goods, several cooking fires outside…rudimentary stuff, but at least the villagers sleep like rocks. Everything else will have to be remade, and I’m the one in charge. Oh dear.

“Let’s get down to business, then, Prost. I’ve got some good ideas on how to proceed, but I’d love to hear what you’d do in a situation like this.”

I’ve got more than just a few ideas. I’ve spoken to several people, Ryoka among them, who gave me excellent advice on what to do. And honestly, I needed it. Rebuilding a village and managing everyone is not among the skills I brought from Earth, from my world, but I feel oddly confident now.

Prost shakes his head in response to my question. He has to break off to tell someone where the hammers are—in the wagons and two in the barn—and then he tells a group of young men and women to go help dig where Durene’s at. He’s in charge, as are a few of the older villagers. But that’s in charge under me, I feel. If I wasn’t here, would things go this well?

“Honestly, your majesty? I wouldn’t know where to begin, aside from digging out what I can. There’s so many farms ruined…I supposed I’d try to dig up fields, get as much land cleared so I could sow all the plants I could after the last frost, but that’s all I know. I’d be hoping to trade what valuables I could gather for supplies, some chickens and other animals maybe, but I wouldn’t know where to start. I’m glad you’re here, sir.”

“I find your faith in me disturbing, Mister Prost. I’m no miracle worker.”

“Say that to my daughter, sir. And my wife. You saved them and over half the village. But for you we’d be dead.”

Prost turns to me, and grips my shoulder before he remembers I’m an [Emperor] and starts apologizing. I stop him. That’s right. That’s why people have faith in me. Because I saved lives. I cannot betray that faith, although it’s more than any person should have placed on them.

“Well, we’ll see if my ideas work. For now…let’s talk about the villagers, Prost. What do you think they need?”

“Need? Well, you’ve given us warm bellies and your Skill makes us feel as though we’re sleeping on pure cotton, sire. Give us some more rooms and a place to work and I’d say that’s all I need. With these adventurers around, we don’t have to fear monsters and that’s a relief.”

I smile as I find a place to stand with Prost, out of the way. I can sense villagers staring at me as they work.

“Interesting. You thought of that off the top of your head, didn’t you, Mister Prost?”

“Yes sire. I just said what I could think of.”

“And what you could think of were the essentials. Food, shelter, and security. I’d say those are the three basic elements all people need to survive, don’t you, Mister Prost?”

“I’d agree with that, sire. That and a good drink now and then.”

I grin and see Prost smiling in relief. An [Emperor] needs to be human too.