Chapter 25: Pain

Returning to the black emptiness of the Emporia felt like waking from a dream to find that the world had stopped existing. There was only blackness around Shiori as she awoke, but she felt another mind awakening nearby.

Mores appeared, and she felt his mind enter as he did.

The legends written in Kawamura’s books said Kryptopeda had been created in the dark, forgotten past like an Emporia, only larger and more permanent. This was a place of pure thought and imagination. A place created by the mind.

Controlling minds was what the Praetors did best. An Emporia was supposed to be safe. You couldn’t physically attack someone here.

But this place was tied to her mind, which was vulnerable to a Praetor’s attacks.

Mores smiled. He intended to retake the Princess and Duke Praetor’s favor by reconquering her mind. Mind magic was destroyed if the target knew they were being manipulated.

To conquer her mind, he needed access and an unsuspected attack method.

Shiori had other plans.

“You want to know how I knew everything?” Shiori suggested. This wouldn’t be a friendly exchange, like with Symphon. The Emporia would guarantee that any information exchanged would satisfy them both.

“Yes,” Mores said, thinking. Seeping through the dark walls of the Emporia she could feel his intent to trick her into exposing herself to his control. “How do you know so much about Kryptopeda?”

That would be easy to answer. He must hope Symphon had taught her everything she knew, and that her memory of learning magic would expose a good opening to control her with a new spell.

“Where did the book you gave me come from?” Shiori asked.

The darkness around the Emporia seemed to swirl, but it was too perfectly black to see any pattern or movement. One could only feel it.

She felt Mores offer an answer, but she also felt that the answer wouldn’t be enough to satisfy her. He thought of a more honest, detailed answer, but still faced refusal.

With each attempt, Shiori had only an impression of his offered answer. But in the instant she sensed it, the answer slipped away before she could understand it.

The Emporia connected to each participant’s subconscious. A trade of answers only happened if both accepted. Shiori felt like she was forgetting a dream after waking as her mind negotiated with Mores. It felt like déjà vu, only more real.

Then it clicked.

Shiori’s memory left her. She remembered reading Kawamura’s books and her shock in finding the realms of Kryptopeda were real. The memory was shorter and simpler than Mores expected. It gave him no avenue of attack.

Meanwhile, Shiori was pulled into a memory. Mores stood before a throne in a decrepit stone building. Shiori realized the building should have collapsed long ago, but looked to have forgotten how to crumble.

Pillars held up the ceiling, but most were damaged beyond the ability to stand. Despite the impossibility, columns hung in the air. Sections of ceiling floated without support. Walls lacked half their stones, but dutifully defied gravity.

It was a half a building, pieces floating in the air like mist.

It was a ruin, and in the midst was a man that looked somewhere between twenty and two thousand years old. He smiled and spoke jovially, yet his tone promised death if his audience wasn’t careful.

“Mores, darling boy, I have a task for thee,” the man said as he took a book, The Last Word, from a boy not much older than Mores. The boy knelt on the stones and trembled as the book left his fingers.

Mores tried to stay relaxed as Duke Praetor spoke his name. He broke into a cold sweat and said nothing.

“Thy dear cousin failed to infiltrate the Princess’s defenses. He did find the language and culture baffling.” With a wave, the Duke ended the kneeling boy’s life.

Light burst from the boy’s mouth and eyes as he collapsed. Some tendrils of light circled toward the Duke. Others followed a wave of the Duke’s hand and encircled a massive circular stone.

The stone glowed red, then lifted into its proper place. Even after centuries it remembered its position in the long lost building. It rested in the air, one more block in the Duke’s rebuilt sanctum.

Around Mores, hundreds or thousands of stone blocks hovered in the same way, maintaining the lie of a building that should have crumbled long ago. If he focused, he could avoid sensing the screams from each and every stone.

The light encircling the Duke moved like luminescent smoke. The smiling man breathed it in. The effect was immediate. The effect was like a drug. The Duke gasped and laughed, closing his eyes in evident pleasure.

“How did that fine lad let himself fail!? He had so much for which to live!” The Duke shook his head disapprovingly. His eyes were dilated and he swayed dreamily. “More is the pity, I suppose.”

The book slipped from the Duke’s fingers as he Spoke a word. Instead of hitting the ground, the book flew to Mores.

The boy caught it, trembling. He kept his eyes off his dead cousin. Looking would only make him more likely to panic.

“I shall endeavor,” the Duke said, savoring the joy and hope he had consumed, “to do more with his years than he would manage. Verily, wasted life, ‘tis a pity child.”

Mores nodded. “I’ll do better, Lord.”

The Duke giggled. The joyous sound clashed with the dark, broken temple that refused to collapse. He wiped a tear from one eye, still reveling in the pleasure of feeding. “Forsooth, love.”

The Duke continued. “That book is tied to the next Princess, who hid in the old world. Use that tie to make a portal to her. Ensnare her. Bring her to me, alive.”

As the euphoria faded, the Duke cleared his throat. “I know not what defenses she employs. The one from whom I acquired the book escaped to Felthal before I learned more. That one died when my honor guard tried to retrieve her.”

Mores nodded. Praetor Narrators all whispered of the Duke’s punishments for those who let concubines escape. The bounty on her son, Symphon of Felthal, was wealth some kings would envy.

Mores’ cousin on the ground took a last gasp. His life force may have been removed, but the body was warm and had not yet forgotten how to live.

The memory ended in a blur of emotion and the dark swirling colors of a temple that should have collapsed long ago.

“Now you know how I got the book,” Mores said bitterly. “You wouldn’t be satisfied until you understood why I would attack an innocent girl. Now you know my fear. You know my shame. My pain.”

Shiori was trembling with the fear she had shared with Mores when his words hit her.

Tears filled her eyes. She understood him. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her. He was as much a victim as she was. She needed to help him.

She reached out to cancel the Emporia. They could work this out now that she understood. She had wrongly blamed him for his actions.

Shiori reached out to the Emporia and began to tear it down.

Then she paused.

Maybe she wouldn’t have noticed it if she hadn’t just read her own story in The Last Word, but luck was with her.

“Your pain,” Shiori said in a bitter, sardonic tone. The headache was brief, and her skin glowed. “You Praetors are masters of manipulating pain. It makes sense you’d pick that word to Speak when casting a spell.”

Mores frowned. “I didn’t think you’d catch that.” He moved to cancel the Emporia himself, but hesitated.

Shiori smiled at him. “You want to know more, right?” She tried to seem confident. She expected him to attack after receiving her memory. She hadn’t realized his subtle plan of shocking her into vulnerability with his own horrific memories.

He considered, then smiled again. “Why not? What’s your next question, Princess?”