Roderick and I dry ourselves off and slip back into our Imperial attire. It is a brisk day, but the skies are clear and blue overhead. In the morning light, the village actually looks somewhat quaint and picturesque, but I can’t help but feel that some upgrades are needed.

I hold my chronicle in front of me and click through the various prompts as I look at each building. It turns out that I can use my chronicle like a touchscreen, which saves me from having to speak commands to it if I don’t want to. This revelation makes me feel far less subconscious about myself – especially as nearly every villager in sight stares at me with probing eyes.

Row of Houses

Current Level: 1 Material: Mud Shape: Globular Heating Source: Earthen Hearth Color: Brown

Upgrade? Yes or No.

I click on the upgrade option with my finger, and my chronicle magically scribbles a text box into the middle of the page.

This action will cost a persistent 1000 mana points.

Continue? Yes or No.

“That should be an acceptable amount of mana to spend.” Roderick peers over my shoulder, “you have 10,000 base mana points, and you are only spending 1,000 of those at the moment. As long as you keep a minimum of 1,000 points for combat, you should be alright.”

“Is this really okay, though?” I ask him, “shouldn’t these people have a say about me upgrading their houses?”

“If they don’t like it, it can be undone,” he shrugs. “Imperials used to tweak their holdings frequently in the game. You would walk into a city one week to find it looking one way, and the next week it would look completely different.”

“If you say so,” I say. I guess his explanation makes sense. Honestly, I still feel a little uncomfortable about it.

I click the ‘continue’ prompt with my finger, and another text box appears on the page.

For Row of Houses (Level 2)

Choose a Material: 1. Stucco 2. Wood

“Should I do stucco?” I ask my brother.

“Being next to a swamp, it probably rains a lot here, so wood is likely a more durable choice.”

“Good point.”

I select the wood option, and another text box pops up.

Choose a Shape: 1. Square 2. Globular

“Hmmm,” I ponder, “the villagers would probably be more comfortable with the globular option, since their mud huts already look that way, but wouldn’t square fit with the materials better?”

I feel like I am a home renovator on an HGTV reality show. This is ridiculous but kind of fun too.

“I think square is more practical, even though globular might look cool.” Roderick opines.

“Square it is then.”

Choose a Heating Source: 1. Stone Hearth with Cooktop

“Only one option this time.” I click it and continue.

Choose a Color: 1. Dark Brown 2. Medium Brown 3. Light Brown

“It’s pretty drab around here,” I look left and then right, “I don’t want to choose anything too dark. Medium brown is probably best.”

A massive plume of energy erupts from my chronicle at my final click. It rains down on the mud houses like pixie dust, shrouding them in a magical fog. The simple mud huts become obscured for at least a dozen seconds. When the magic lifts, a row of sturdy and well-built cabins take their place.

“Oooh.” The excited villagers clap.

“What are these magnificent structures?” One woman asks.

A man peeks his head into one of the cabins and holds his thumb up for all to see. “Thank you, ancestor. You even organized my pots and pans for me, this is a blessing!”

“It looks like the villagers like your taste in home design,” my brother laughs, “we have three more rows of houses to go if we want everyone to have this upgrade.”

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“That’s only fair,” I shake my head at my handiwork. If my brother and I get out of this situation, then maybe I have a future in home design. It’s a silly thought, but it’s not like I have any other skills.

We make our way around the village upgrading houses for the rest of the day. It turns out that we can also make limited tweaks to individual houses. As long as the changes are small, there is no additional mana expense needed. One woman wants a wooden rack to hang her pelts. Another desires a reed door instead of a wooden one to let in more light, and an elderly man asks us to lower the height of his hearth slightly so that he can use the cooktop more easily.

“Can you make a villa for your brother and me?”

“Of course. Just let me get out my chronicle and – wait a minute.”

Embrosia is back. God help me.

“I’m thinking that a stone foundation would be best for it, just in case of an earthquake. Perhaps you could add a room in the back for formal dining, and –”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” I cut her off. “Who the heck even are you?”

“I’m a princess.”

I slap my hand against my forehead.

“Would you please stop with this nonsense? My brother and I barely even know you. You can’t keep talking about marriage, princesses, and stuff. It’s just weird.”

“Where is your brother anyway?” She ignores my words and looks up, down, and around.

“Huh, that’s a good question.” A sudden pang of fear kicks me in the gut. Where is he? Is he okay? Is he hurt?

Out of the corner of my eye I catch sight of his red robe. He is kneeling between two of my newly constructed wooden homes. His cheeks are plump and rosy, and he appears to be twiddling his thumbs in the direction of the annoying albino interloper at my side.

Oh, brother. I facepalm myself again. Literally.

“My word,” Acolyte Margot’s cackle shifts my attention. “This is spectacular. These homes rival those in The Pass, no, they might be even better. How did you do this?”

“Magic,” I smile, “I hope you like it.”

“Like it?” She laughs, “I love it! My new home is lovely.”

“Grandma,” Embrosia moves to her side, “have you seen my prince?”

“Grandma?” I nearly spit up my grog. “You two are related?”

“Oh, I’m afraid that I haven’t formally introduced you to my granddaughter yet. Imperial Derek, this is Acolyte Embrosia, Acolyte Embrosia, Imperial Derek.” She motions between us.

Embrosia huffs and rolls her eyes, “I already met this old geezer this morning. He’s going to pay for my wedding, but that’s all he’s good for. He doesn’t even know where his brother is. What kind of guardian doesn’t know where his ward is?”

“Geezer?” I look down at myself, “I only just turned 20.”

“Embrosia! Apologize this instant. Imperial Derek is one of our ancestors. It’s bad enough you interrupted his bath this morning, and now you insult him to his face?”

“Sorry, I guess,” she purses her lips and turns her head.

“That’s okay,” I tell her. “Uhm, Acolyte Margot, can I speak to you for a minute?”

“Of course,” she says, “It would be my honor to speak with you.”

As I pull her grandmother to the side, Embrosia continues to glom onto us like an annoying tick. No matter where I try to move our conversation, my brother’s stalker follows suit.

“My brother is between those two houses,” I point towards the gap with my index finger, “he’s been looking for you.”

“Really?” She cuts away from our conversation quickly, without so much as waving goodbye. I watch as she drags my starstruck brother from his hiding spot. He gawks openly at her with a gigantic smile. For a kid who grew up playing video games and watching anime like Roderick, meeting a magic albino girl is probably akin to meeting a real-world celebrity. I’ll let him enjoy her company for a little while I have a much-needed chat with Acolyte Margot.

“My apologies for her behavior,” Margot shakes her head, “thank you for being lenient with my family.”

“That’s what I want to talk to you about. Is everything okay with your granddaughter?”

Margot sighs and motions me into her home. We enter into the newly renovated space and sit down next to the stovetop.

“Where do I begin.” She pours us each a cup of spiced grog and continues, “my granddaughter has had a difficult childhood. As you can see, she does not look like most of our people.”

“That’s true,” I agree, "she has albinism, an uncommon trait. I've never known anyone with it."

“On top of that, her parents died in a Northerner raid when she was just a girl.”

“That must have been traumatic.”

“As you know, we Acolytes use bloodline magic in much the same manner as you Imperials do. Though our spells are not very strong, in this era, Acolytes are treated as tools of war and leaders among our people.”

“Tools of war?”

"Yes. My eldest granddaughter Flaera is a fierce militant among our people. In terms of ability, she surpasses even me. Embrosia looks up to her sister like a God, but Flaera has manipulated and verbally abused her since the day she was born.”

“That’s terrible.” I look down at the floor. Falera sounds awful, kind of like me. Or, as Roderick would say, 'the past me'.

“Embrosia has blossomed into a beautiful young woman, as Flaera always feared,”

“My brother seems to think so as well,” I laugh.

“I thought I saw something there, but unfortunately,” her tone becomes dark, “I cannot say whether my granddaughter’s feelings for him are real or not.”

“Why is that?” I ask.

“She’s under a spell.” Margot throws back the rest of her drink and pounds the empty cup on the cooktop, “Flaera used mind manipulation magic on her sister to erode her independence. She made her sister’s self-worth dependent upon finding an Imperial prince. It is an impossible task, a task that will eventually drive Embrosia to madness. That’s what Flaera has been counting on, but now an actual prince has shown up in this hell-forsaken place. I don't know what's going to happen.”

“My gosh,” I feel chills run down my spine. “That’s insane.”

“And that brings me to my request,” Margot peers deeply into my eyes, “will you confront Flaera and force her to break this curse. I can’t count on anyone else, there is no one but you who is powerful enough to complete this task. I can’t bear to see her like this for much longer.”

“Where is she?” I ask.

“A settlement in one of the mountain valleys. It’s about a three-day foot journey from here. It’s called The Pass.”

“I have heard of it.”

“Among the splintered remnants of the Imperium, The Pass is by far the largest and most developed settlement. It is run by a council of rogue Acolytes and is well fortified. Even the Northerners know to keep away from it.”

“I will have to get stronger if I am going to go to a place like that.”

“But you are an Imperial,” she stammers to her feet.

“I am,” I feel a slight tremble in my fingers, “but I was asleep for many years. My power has not yet fully returned.”

“Then you must train.”

“I also would like to gain more allies,” I tell her, “are there any other villages nearby who may be interested in receiving my protection?”

“All of them,” she tells me without flinching. “You are our beloved ancestor. Getting the support of the other settlements will not be hard for you. Even many in The Pass will likely support you. It’s traveling to the other villages that will become a problem, not the villages themselves.”

“How is that?”

“The roads in this region are filled with bandits, beasts, and Northerners. It was the Northerners who massacred the Imperials so many generations ago. They have since weakened considerably, but their nature mana is still a grave danger to everyone.”

“So the Affliction of Briars and Thorns –”

“Was not a natural event,” she says in a somber tone. “It was a genocide.”

“Wow,” I lean back in my chair and stare up at the wooden beams. What have Roderick and I gotten ourselves into?

“There is only one spell that your average Northerner cannot hope to win against, and that is Protection of the Ancestors. If you plan to make allies of the neighboring villages, I implore you to take my granddaughter with you. Besides me, she is the only one who can cast it.”

“I’ll take that under consideration.” I rise to my feet, “For now I need to speak to my little brother.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” she grabs my arm before I can move an inch, “what kind of person is your younger brother?”

I stop to consider her question. My brother is many things. A good friend. A caring confider. A repository of wisdom and knowledge. A humanitarian. He is –

“A great guy,” I say, without hesitation. “My brother is awesome.”

The midday sun smacks me in the face as I emerge from the house. The streets are bustling and full of life as the villagers acquaint themselves with their new surroundings. I watch from a couple of dozen feet away as Roderick rocks back and forth on the ground. Embrosia is drawing something into the dirt with her staff. They laugh and giggle like two little schoolchildren.

I have to remind myself that my brother is only 14. Though he is abnormally mature for his age and plays the role of a regal Imperial quite well, at the end of the day he is still only a fledgling teenager – as is Embrosia. These are two kids who have endured great pain and hardship; Each having been tormented by their older siblings, persevering in spite of it. What can I do to make their lives better? How can I give them the childhood they deserve?

“I’m afraid they can never lead a normal childhood,” Margot steps to my side, “but at least together, they will not be alone.”

“Acolyte Margot,” I turn to her, “can you read minds too?”

“No,” she smiles, “but I can read emotions. And those two are very happy together. Bring Embrosia with you on your adventures. If not for her sake, or even mine, then do it for him. They need each other.”

“Like I said,” I pull my chronicle out and walk towards the stone ruin in the center of town, “I will take that under consideration.”

“Please do.”