The Supreme Ruler Arrives: Cheeky, Salty Eremon

Setting: Iathium’s Dungeon

Aidryn wasn’t lying when he said Eremon might leave me down here in the dungeon for a long while. Blast him! I had things to do, places to go, havoc to wreak… I’ve been down here so long by now, I might as well give in to my fate.

…To be honest, I really don’t hate being served lovely tea and pastries while I’m here. There are worse fates, you know. Anyway, I— wait, do you hear that? A key is turning in the lock! I finally have another visitor.

Male Voice: Knock, knock, hooligan!

Haley: *squinting* Put your torch down; I can’t see your face.

Male Voice: That’s the idea. More intimidating and whatnot.

H: Ha! You think you can intimidate me? I’m the master of the story, and once I find out who you are, you’ll be sorry.

Eremon: Oh, come off it, Faolan. Put the torch down so the silly lady can see your equally silly face.

Faolan: *lowers torch with a sigh* As you wish.

E: Very good! Now, how’s our little scribe? Not so powerful without a quill in hand, are you?

H: I’m debating whether to tell you exactly how much writing I’m capable of doing in my head before I get hold of another pen.

F: *raises eyebrow* Sounds like a threat.

E: Indeed. Tell me, peasant: You seem like a wise woman.

H: *muttering* Try calling me peasant again. See where that gets you.

E: Why do you withhold the power of the pen from your supreme ruler?

H: Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps I’m not withholding it at all. Maybe I simply believe we all have the right to put pen to paper and create.

E: *appearing scandalized* If you plan to write about me, we must be… cautious about the narrative. You know how these things go. Let the wrong people write about history in the making, and you might just find a scroll full of lies.

H: Or an archive full of them.

E: How dare— *squints susly* That’s why I put you down here in the first place—because you knew things about my kingdom that you ought not. Thank you for reminding me; perhaps I’ll leave you here another fortnight. Or ten.

H: Listen, Eremon. Let me explain.

E: I might allow it. If—

F: I wouldn’t allow anything if I were you.

E: Hush, wolfie. You are not me. Need I remind you in the presence of a peasant?

F: *glowers*

H: *glowers*

E: As I was saying. If you can explain yourself well, perhaps I’ll consider commuting your sentence.

H: Seriously?

E: Quite. Now, if you can adequately explain your motive for discussing the carefully guarded truths of our archive, I might release you—and allow you to continue as master of the story.

H: Well, I know how badly you want to be in charge. You’re a ruler, after all. That just comes naturally. But sometimes, we need someone objective who can help us tell our stories. That’s where I come in. I understand your dilemma; you want to tell the truth to your people, but you have no idea how to go about it. What if I were to chronicle your journey so that the people will understand one day, too? Surely by giving them your perspective on these matters, they’ll understand your heart was in the right place. What do you think?

F: *blinks* That was…

E: Persuasive, I know. Rather smart for a peasant. How about this: I release you on one condition. You show me you’re trustworthy by gathering the stories of my enemies, too. I want to understand where their hearts are, as you say.

H: Wait, you want me to be a spy?

E: *makes a sweeping gesture* Is that not what you are?

H: No! I mean, spy and scribe sound eerily similar, but I’m a writer. I write stories.

E: Then write me some stories about the people in Rodhlan. The other clans, my enemies, direct threats to my throne… take your pick. Make yourself useful and perhaps I’ll allow you to write my story, too.

H: *grumbles* As long as I can still get my hands on those pastries.

E: And what do we say to a sovereign who has shown mercy? *turns to leave* You’re welcome!

H: …Thank you?

F: Better gather your personal effects. You’re about to go on an adventure.

—

Look for part 4 soon!