Festivities roar on in the distant glow of the town square. I set my chronicle down on the nightstand next to my new bed, a perk I created for myself when I upgraded our house, and allow myself to relax.

It has been an eventful 24 hours, and I'm drained. At this point, all I want is some sleep and another soak in that hot spring.

“Tehehe.”

A strange noise piques my interest.

I sit up and look around the room. With the upgrades I made, our home is drastically different. We have a stone oven, furniture, and even a little kitchen space. With those changes also come lots of blind spots for potential assailants to hide in. After what happened earlier, I am on guard and primed for more problems.

“That’s so funny,” I hear someone snicker.

“Hello?” I stand up and grab my chronicle.

A dreadful fear takes hold of me as I creep closer to the source of the disturbance. Am I being tested again? There is definitely someone, or something, on the other side of the oven. My brain feels like it is going to overheat. It has already been through too much over these past couple of days.

“Activate battle mode,” I whisper. My chronicle darts up to my face and shrouds my body in magical armor.

I take a tired breath and jump towards the disturbance.

“Ah hah! Got you!” I yell.

“Oh, hey Derek.” Roderick waves at me. “Em Em and I are playing a game of charades. Care to join us?”

“Em Em?” Who the heck is that?

Embrosia looks up at me and smiles, “yeah, come on you old geezer, join us.”

“Oh no you don’t,” I grab her by the collar and start pulling. “It’s time for you to go home. It’s past midnight. We need sleep.”

“But Derek,” Roderick crawls after me with watery puppy dog eyes, “can’t she spend the night tonight? We’re having so much fun.”

“No.” I open the door and gently nudge her out. “Your prince needs his beauty sleep. Come back later.”

“You can’t stop true love!” She pouts.

“Yes I can,” I slam the door shut.

“You’re no fun,” Roderick plops down on his bed, “but I guess it is getting late.”

Roderick doesn’t know the things I do about his little girlfriend. He doesn’t realize that she is under a spell – that the feelings she has towards him might not be genuine. I contemplate whether I should tell him the truth.

“Gosh bro,” Roderick lies back on his bed and swoons. “I had so much fun today. I haven’t felt this way in ages.”

“Hey,” I tap my finger uneasily, “there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

He sits right up and directs his full attention towards me. Roderick can be childish when he wants to, but he also knows how to get serious when the situation warrants it. I admire that about him.

“I had a conversation with Acolyte Margot that you might find interesting.”

“I’m listening,” he nods towards me.

“She told me lots of things. First of all, this 'Affliction of Briars and Thorns', or whatever it is called, was not a natural disaster. The destruction of the Imperium was caused by the Northerners. It was a genocide.”

“I had a feeling.”

“Wait, you did?”

“Yeah, it makes sense. The Northern Kingdoms were The Imperium’s main rival, even during the game era. The Northern Lords use nature magic, a fierce genre of magic that can alter plants and animals. It can do all kinds of things, especially to living organisms. If this is true, then they are our greatest threat.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” I shake my head, “I also learned something else. Something disturbing.”

“Like?”

“Embrosia has an older sister.”

“What’s so disturbing about that?” He pauses and then puts on a wry smile. “Derek, did you meet a lady friend too?”

“No. She belongs to a rogue group of Acolytes who live in a settlement called The Pass. Apparently, they are very dangerous and – and,” I struggle to tell him the next part.

“And? What is it?”

“Well, it’s about Embrosia,” I stammer.

“Tell me!”

“Um, hmmm, how do I say this?” I pause, unsure of my ability to break my brother’s heart, “Acolyte Margot told me that Embrosia is being bullied by her older sister, kind of like how I used to bully you.”

“Is that all?” Roderick plops back and sighs. “You had me worried for a minute. I thought you were going to tell me that she brainwashed Embrosia. Now, that would be really bad. Among the skills an Acolyte can learn, that one really scares me.”

Should I tell him? My heart aches as I try to give form to my words. This is my brother’s crush – a cute girl who took a liking to him. Can I really break his heart? If I tell him, it might really hurt him, but if I don’t tell him and he finds out, it might ruin our newly recovering relationship forever. Ugh, what a situation to be in.

“Roddy, Derek, help!” A loud knock jars both of us away from our conversation.

Embrosia bursts into our cabin, her face is drenched with tears and is red with anguish. “It’s my grandma. She’s sick.”

With my chainmail activated and chronicle floating after me, I join Roderick and Embrosia and dart towards the main village square. A crowd of people is waiting there for us, right next to a simple wooden cart. Drako and his mom stand at its side, wearing depressed faces.

Lying on the cart is none other than Acolyte Margot, weak of breath and completely desiccated.

“This looks like mind manipulation magic,” Roderick runs to her side and checks her pulse, “did you try dispelling it?” He looks up towards Drako.

Drako solemnly motions his mother forward.

“I’m afraid I haven’t fully introduced myself – the name’s Marjorie. I’m the head Warrior of the village watch. This spell was too much even for my protective wards.”

“I think it’s Viper’s Tongue,” Drako interjects, “a mind manipulation technique that causes terminal illness when someone reveals a secret.”

“Grandma, please don’t die,” Embrosia pounds the cart with her fists, “you only just started training me. I still have so much to learn from you.”

“I don’t understand,” I say, “she was fine just an hour ago. How could her condition change this rapidly?”

“The curse must have passed on to someone else.” Marjorie’s face sours. “That’s how Viper’s Tongue works. Every time a secret is shared, the curse jumps hosts. The process can take hours, or even days, but once it is complete there is nothing anyone can do to stop it.”

My heart sinks. This has to be Flaera’s doing. She probably did not want anyone to know her secret. She had manipulated her own sister’s mind so that it would break and disintegrate. If people find her out, it may cause her trouble. My heart sinks even deeper once I realize that I am now the lone holder of that terrible secret. Even if I want to tell Roderick, I no longer can – not unless I too want to die.

“I want to try something,” Roderick places both of his hands onto Acolyte Margot’s feeble body. “Watchwoman Marjorie, what is your strongest defensive ward?”

“My son and I are subversion artists, not defenders,” she shakes her head, “all we have is Ward of Lesser Resistance.”

“That may work, both of you, put your hands on my back.”

“I don’t understand,” she shakes her head.

“Trust my brother,” I interject, “he uses a type of magic that can amplify spells. You saw it earlier, right? It doesn’t just work with his own spells; it also amplifies the spells and abilities of others.”

“I’m basically a conduit,” Roderick agrees with my assessment.

“But wards are not magic,” Marjorie shakes her head, “they are martial arts.”

“It’s worth a try, mom.” Drako places his hands on my brother’s back.

“Okay,” she relents.

I move to Embrosia’s side and wipe her eyes with the sleeve of my robe. There is something about her sorrow that makes me deeply emotional. Sure she is annoying, but I know what it feels like to lose someone you love; I know that pain all too well.

“[Ward of Lesser Resistance]!” Roderick cries, but nothing happens. “Let’s go again,” he says. “I need you to really focus on pouring your stamina into me.”

The surrounding lot of villagers, half of whom are drunk on aged grog, look sullen and melancholy. This is the lady who had served as their de facto protector for a generation. She is the woman who had delivered their babies and cared for their sick, the woman who had led them in prayer every evening. I can not even begin to fathom how they must feel at this moment.

“[Ward of Lesser Resistance], damn. Again! [Ward of Lesser Resistance].” My brother tries again and again, but with each failure, the situation becomes more set in stone.

“Embrosia,” a faint cry permeates the silence. “Come here.”

Acolyte Margot speaks, if only barely.

“Go,” I nudge Embrosia forward.

She whimpers and sniffles as she holds her head against her grandmother’s ear. She shakes her head and then turns to me.

“Imperial Derek,” she murmurs in a tearful voice, “my Grandma wants to talk to you.”

Roderick and the other villagers step back as I approach the cart. Everyone in attendance knows that these are the final moments of the elder Acolyte’s life. They all want to respect her dying wishes.

I stand above her shriveled body and lean in close.

“Look after my baby girl,” she whispers, “confront Flaera, it is the only way to save her.”

“I will,” I say and clutch her hand in mine. “I promise to look after Embrosia and go after the woman who caused your family all this pain. You have my word.”

The tension in her hand releases. She takes her last breath, and just like that, she is gone.

I turn to face the somber crowd, not knowing what to say or do. My sullen expression is all they need to see to know that she has passed.

Embrosia collapses onto the cold dirt, shrieking and crying in grief. Not even Roderick can calm her down.

One by one the villagers approach the Acolyte’s lifeless body, bidding farewell and saying goodbye to their longtime friend. Everyone is aware that this is no accident, and I can already tell that some of the onlookers suspect Flaera.

“Come to our cottage tomorrow afternoon,” Drako puts his hand on my shoulder while his mom wheels the cart away, “We will find out who did this. Mark my words.”

“What about the young Acolyte?” A woman in the crowd asks, “She shouldn’t be left alone after this. What if she is targeted?”

“She’s not staying at my house,” a man whispers, “for all I know, she is the one who cast the spell.”

“Acolyte Embrosia will stay with me,” I speak loudly and with authority. “She is more of a victim here than anyone else, try to remember that before you speak.” I scold the gossiping villagers who quickly cut away from me in embarrassment.

Roderick and I kneel down next to Embrosia. She is an emotional wreck, but her turbulent feelings seem to be calming a little. “Let’s go home,” I tell her. Roderick holds out his hand and helps her to her feet. Together we steady her and assist her back to our cabin.

It is difficult to fall asleep once we return back to our room, and figuring out our new living arrangements is also surprisingly complicated.

Though I have some initial trepidation about it, I ultimately decide to let Embrosia lie on the bed next to my brother – just this one time. Roderick is a good kid and I know he isn’t going to try anything funny with her. Right now, more than anything else, I know that Embrosia needs to be close to someone she trusts. The pain of losing a loved one is a roller coaster that needs time to heal, and friends to help heal it.

Roderick and Embrosia both lie awake, staring at the ceiling. I too struggle to fall asleep. This struggle continues until I am finally lulled into slumber by snores coming from the other side of the room.

My mind is so tired that it doesn’t even have enough energy to create any of its usual nightmares.

As the first streams of morning light enter through the windows, I quietly emerge from my covers and creep out of the house. I know just the thing to cheer everyone up.

Roderick licks his lips. He groggily slides out of bed and blinks the crust from his eyes, “what is that smell, Derek?”

“It smells like grog,” a feeble voice adds.

“Uh, well, I couldn’t find any maple syrup, but I managed to borrow some condensed grog from the neighbors. It’s kind of the same.”

“Did you say syrup?” Roderick pops to life in an instant and charges towards me like a hungry hyena.

“Surprise. I made my famous sugar rush pancakes. Well, actually I stole the idea from you, but I’ve been perfecting my craft over these past couple of years and I think I’m getting pretty good at it.”

Roderick squeezes my hands tightly, “thanks bro.”

“Smells good,” a zombie-like Embrosia trudges over and sits at the table, “I’ll have a serving.”

“Me too,” Roderick sits down across from her.

“Coming right up!”

I pile their plates high with buckwheat pancakes and sticky grog syrup. I take my own plate back to my bed. Though I prefer waffles, I have to admit that my makeshift pancakes are also pretty good. I am starting to get a little sick of grog though. I wonder if people in this town ever drink anything else.

“Wow, that hits the spot.” Embrosia perks back to life, “thanks you old geezer. I’m really enjoying this romantic meal with my prince.”

“Stop that,” Roderick blushes.

“It’s true,” she giggles back.

I sit back and stare at them with conflicting emotions. I am very happy that Roderick is getting an opportunity to spend time with someone his age, but I am also deeply concerned that this relationship may hurt him in the long run. It is just too hard to tell which aspects of Embrosia are being influenced by Flaera and which ones aren’t. No matter what, I have to make confronting the elder Swampbottom sister a priority.

“When you two get done eating, meet me over here,” I yell at them from across the room, “we need to have a strategy session.”

“I’m ready to discuss things when you are,” Roderick plops himself down on my bed.

“Embrosia, are you ready?”

“Scoot over,” she nudges me, “I want to sit next to Roddy.”

“Fine.”

I scoot to the side and allow them to get settled in.

“As of this moment,” I say, “I’d like to add Embrosia to our party. I made a promise to look after her, and I intend to keep it. Are you okay with that, Roderick?”

“Of course!”

“Good, so…”

“Wait, Derek,” Roderick interrupts me, “you need to officially add Embrosia to our imperial house. Open your chronicle up and flip to the household management page.”

“Where’s that?” I ask.

“Near the back, right after your settlements section.”

“Does this mean we are getting married?” Embrosia clutches Roderick’s arm.

“No, no,” he laughs, “but it does mean that you are officially joining our house as an Acolyte, and that comes with some pretty awesome benefits.”

“Like?”

“You’ll find out in a minute.”

I open my chronicle and flip to where my brother told me to look. Sure enough, I find a simple page bordered by decorative illustrations of people and parchments. The page itself is laid out in a grid, with information about the members and branches of my house. Right now there are only two names listed – Roderick and me.

I follow a promising-looking prompt and a scribbled dialogue box asks me if I wanted to add any new household members to my house.

Add household member? Yes or No.

I select yes and my chronicle flips to a blank page.

“Hold your chronicle towards the person you’d like to add,” Roderick tells me.

I point it at Embrosia. Almost immediately the chronicle begins to fill in detailed information about her.

Embrosia Swampbottom Level: 2 Race: Acolyte Faction: Imperial Remnant Specialization: None Constitution: 200 Stamina: 100 Mana: 200 Spells Learnt: Read Mind, Protection of the Ancestors Mental State: Bewitched Add to House? Yes or No.

Embrosia is only slightly stronger than my brother and me in terms of level, but her mana is drastically lower than ours. Imperials truly are a frightening race.

Speaking of 'race', I don't really understand what this concept means in this world. Everyone we have seen looks human to me, and yet they are divided by their jobs. These differences are referred to as "race", but it is not what I think of when I hear that word. I think of dwarves and elves and things like that.

"Roderick, can you explain the different races to me? I don't understand."

"Sure," he says, "what do you want to know?"

"Please start from the basics."

He opens his chronicle and points through a list of the various imperial races. "Imperial Society was structured around a rigid caste system. This caste system divided people based on their innate capabilities to control magic and martial art abilities. Imperials like you and I are at the top of this caste system, while Acolytes like Embrosia are just underneath us.”

Embrosia nods as though this is common knowledge.

“Although it was initially possible to marry outside of this caste system during the early years of the Imperium, it was deeply frowned upon by Imperial Society. Some still did it anyway. This angered the Imperial Senate, and they instituted a racial system to help prevent cross-job class marriages. The ‘races’ that we see in our chronicles are actually classes, and almost everyone in the Imperium is a human. The few who are not human are referred to as ‘thralls’.”

"Does that mean we can't get married, Roddy?"

"The Imperium is dead, so I doubt those rules matter anymore."

"Neither of you are getting married until you turn 18," I hiss.

They both twiddle their fingers and look away from me.

I click the prompt to accept Embrosia as a house member and another box of text appears on the page.

Assign to Branch: 1.) Branch Gray 2.) Branch Smith

It doesn’t seem appropriate to assign Embrosia to my brother’s branch. There are just too many unknowns.

I select branch Gray, and my brother scowls at me. My chronicle erases the prompts and messages, and then flips back to the main household management section.

With Embrosia successfully added to our house, I am now granted options to examine her equipped items and view her relationships. I click over to her item page and scroll through her equipment.

Equipment Loadout For: Embrosia Swampbottom Armor Head: Uncovered Torso: Novice Acolyte’s Robe (Tattered) Legs: Novice Acolyte’s Skirt (Tattered) Hands: Uncovered Feet: Reed Sandals Weaponry Primary: Novice Acolyte’s Staff Secondary: None Accessories: None Chronicle: None

Roderick and Embrosia lean over me as I click through each individual item. I want to expend my mana to upgrade her items, as I did with the buildings, but there is no option like that.

“So what exactly are the benefits to joining your house?” Embrosia asks, getting impatient.

“Here,” Roderick points at the blank chronicle line on her equipment loadout page.

I click on it, and a prompt opens.

Create Chronicle? Yes or No.

“Wait, so I can create chronicles for other people?” I ask.

“You can.” Roderick answers, “while Imperial chronicles can only be crafted in the Imperium’s Grand Library, chronicles for non-Imperial household members can be created by the household head. Once Embrosia has her own chronicle, she will be able to upgrade her equipment and choose new skills for herself as she levels up.”

“I can choose my own skills?” She looks surprised.

“Yup, no more random skills. Once you have your own chronicle, you will be in full control of your own destiny.”

Thank God for Roderick and his vast pool of knowledge. Without him, I don’t know what I would do. I select the option to create a chronicle, and a final prompt asks me to pay a measly 100 mana points.

A ball of rectangular light appears above Embrosia’s lap, covering the whole room in a shimmer. A book takes form in front of her. Though it is small in stature, it is regal in appearance: cream white and leather-bound. It stands in stark contrast to my black leather chronicle.

“There it is, an Acolyte’s chronicle!” Roderick exudes excitement as the book plops into Embrosia’s grasp. They act like kids in a candy store as they flip through its pages together. Each page lights their expressions with more and more joy.

I decide to give them some space and I leave to clean up the dishes. I haven’t had a chance to talk to them yet about Flaera, but perhaps that is for the best. I still have one more person to visit, and if possible, enlist into my house.