Dreamer's Throne

It was astounding how much of a difference a full meal could make. For Ryn, who had been surviving on rough bread and water for weeks, the two large bowls of stew with actual meat looked like a feast, and she didn’t wait for Garrett to start before digging in. Though he was just as hungry as she was, Garrett didn’t begin eating right away. Directing the large men who were carrying furniture into the small room where to put the second bed, he made sure everything was in place before starting on his stew. He wasn’t sure what sort of meat he was eating, and he suspected he was better off not knowing.

Henrick had moved quickly after agreeing to Garrett’s terms, and the room he and Ryn would be sharing was cleaned out and filled with furniture, lending some dignity to the shabby space. Sensing that Ryn was looking at him, Garrett paused, his spoon hovering in the air as he looked up. She had practically inhaled her food and was staring at his bowl with undisguised desire. Finishing his bite, he fished out a chunk of meat for himself and then passed the bowl over to her.

“What? Aren’t you hungry?” she asked, grabbing the bowl and pulling it toward her.

Shaking his head, Garrett started to chew on his thick slice of brown bread.

“No, and besides, you’ll need the energy more than me since you’ll be doing more physical work.”

“Ah, that’s true,” Ryn said, rapidly ladling hot stew into her mouth without even blowing on it.

They had come to an agreement to work together after Garrett had managed to convince Henrick to give him a chance, and Ryn was to be responsible for helping Garrett with things he needed as well as running errands. She had turned out to be the same age as Garrett, seventeen years old, and had spent her whole life on the streets, giving her a wealth of helpful knowledge about the area.

After the meal, Garrett sent Ryn back to the kitchen with the bowls and leaned back against the wall. Even with the little bit he’d eaten, he could feel some strength returning to his body. The table had been pulled up against the side of his bed so it was easy for him to reach, and the account book sat on it. He had told Henrick he would need at least one night to go over it, as well as a new, clean account book to copy everything over. Promising to have one of his men deliver the new account book, Henrick had given the command to have the furniture brought to the room and then disappeared to do who knew what. The light from the small window was fading fast, but Ryn had secured a candle from somewhere, keeping the room well-lit.

Feeling like he had some space for the first time since he’d first woken up, Garrett closed his eyes and began to examine his condition. He had discovered a few startling things since waking up, and now that he had a chance to reference them against his memories, he was beginning to understand what was going on. He had no idea how he was doing it, but as he closed his eyes and concentrated his mind, he found himself able to sense his body’s condition.

According to his memories, this was called inner sight, and was something that only an Awakened could do. The strange spark of energy that appeared in the center of his chest was the second indication he had Awakened, which provided a clear explanation for why Garrett was still alive. Casting his mind back to the classes he’d taken as the prince’s study aide, he reviewed what he knew about Awakening.

While not all soul sparks granted supernatural strength and speed, they all gave their bearer exceptional endurance, allowing them to survive wounds that would have killed even the strongest unawakened warrior. That explained how Garrett was still breathing, despite having his hand removed, his legs crippled, and being thrown into the river. According to what he’d learned, soul sparks were divided into three main categories. Weapon Sparks were soul sparks that would form weapons, typically granting their bearer supernatural abilities with that type of weapon. For instance, someone with a Weapon Spark in the shape of a bow may have uncanny accuracy, no matter the distance they shot from, or the ability to control their arrows mid-flight.

Monster Sparks, which were rarer than Weapon Sparks, took the shape of a monster and granted their bearer increased speed and strength, as well as a feature of that monster. This could be anything from spectral claws to the ability to stick to vertical surfaces, or even powerful senses. The final type of soul spark was the rarest and was referred to as a Tool Spark, as they took the shape of specific tools. Tool Sparks carried varied powers that were practically impossible to quantify, making them highly sought after.

Though he could see the soul spark that rested quietly in his chest, Garret had no idea what sort of spark he carried, as it was still in the earliest stage, the lighting stage, and hadn’t yet been shaped. Awakening was, as far as Garrett knew, a random thing, with most people Awakening at some point between the age of fifteen and twenty-five. At seventeen, Garrett was on the younger side, but the fact that he had a soul spark at all was shocking to him.

Following the lighting stage, in which the Awakened grew their soul spark from a tiny firefly into a roaring star, was the shaping stage, in which the Awakened would focus on the emerging shape of their soul spark, condensing and polishing their soul spark until it was lifelike. The final stage, and one that Garrett had never encountered, even in his time in the palace, was that of manifesting, when the soul spark could be projected from the Awakened’s body and used in the real world. According to the stories, the strength a manifesting-stage Awakened could wield was legendary, enough to split seas and crush mountains, but as far as Garrett knew all of that was simply hearsay.

Regardless, he was happy to discover that he was Awakened, even if he was only at the beginning of the lighting stage. With his eyes closed, he pushed his mind closer to the spark in his chest and suddenly felt a whooshing sound as his vision changed. Blinking in surprise, he found himself in the small room with the ornate chair. Once again his body was whole and a small window was floating in front of him.

Welcome to the Dream. Your current objective is to gain your first level.

EXP: 3/10

Instead of standing up and leaving the room like he had the last time, Garrett took a moment to carefully examine the room. Unlike what he thought the first time he’d appeared here, the room in the Dream wasn’t an exact copy of his room in the real world. The furniture had appeared in the room, but the small window that let light into the room in the real world didn’t exist. Instead, the light that filled the room came from the throne he was sitting in. Furthermore, the room in the Dream was considerably bigger than the room in the real world. Unsure what caused the differences, Garrett could only shrug. Curious about what had caused him to leave the Dream the first time he’d visited it, Garrett tried to focus on the spark glowing in his chest, only to find himself back in the real world, the spark in his chest noticeably dimmer.

Feeling like he’d latched onto something, Garrett returned to the Dream, this time standing up as soon as he arrived and walking for the door. Dismissing the now-familiar notification informing him he was leaving the safe zone, Garrett stepped out into the hallway. The ever-present haze was clearer than it had been the first time, and as he walked forward it continued to vanish. At the same time, Garrett could see the soul spark that illuminated his surroundings was starting to fade in strength.

Though he wasn’t exactly sure what was happening, he continued to pace back and forth in the long hall, watching as the hallway grew clearer and clearer and his soul spark continued to dim. Finally, with a shudder his soul spark grew dark and he fell out of the Dream, falling unconscious on his bed. When he woke up, he’d fallen to the side and nearly slid off the bed. Gripping the side of the table with his left hand, he used his right arm to push his torso up.

He had no idea how much time had passed, but from the pounding in his head and the weak light coming from his soul spark, he knew he’d done something foolish. Letting out a groan, he reached for the mug of water that had been left on the table from lunch and sipped at it. Since his head was still pounding, he rolled over on his bed and closed his eyes, preparing to go to sleep, only to hear footsteps approaching the room. A moment later the door opened and Ryn came bounding in, a thick, leather-bound book in her hand.

“Here’s your new account book. Oh, and more ink and a new quill too. Are you really going to go through that whole book and find gold? How does that even work?”

Lifting himself up, Garrett pulled himself to the table and took the items Ryn offered. The account book was completely blank, though when he looked closely, Garrett could tell that a few pages had been cut out of the front of it. The quill, on the other hand, had never been used and the ink was in sealed vials. Running his hand over the smooth cover, Garrett smiled.

“Chances are good that the gold is missing. If Henrick is as much of a penny pincher as you’ve said, he probably knows that the gold is gone for good, but knowing where it went is a different matter. Every entry in this book has been initialed, which means that so long as we know where the errors have occurred, we should be able to track down where the money has gone. At the very least, it will give us a place to start. And by us, I mean Henrick and his men. We’ll do the basic groundwork, and they can do the actual investigation to get the money back.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if we got the money back?” Ryn asked, her eyes gleaming as she imagined what a stack of gold would look like.

“No, absolutely not. You’re no match for the men who took it, and neither am I. I mean, I can barely move. What would we do if the money is in the pocket of someone like Obe? Better to let Henrick handle it. Besides, it’s highly likely all the money is gone already. This book goes back almost four years.”

“Ah, that’s true,” Ryn said with a disappointed pout.

Pulling the chair over, she sat down and watched dejectedly as Garrett opened the two account books up. Sitting in a strange inn in a strange world without his right hand or the use of his legs, Garrett felt like he should be going crazy right now, but strangely his mind seemed to have completely adapted to his new situation. A wry smile crossed his lips as he stared at the two books. If he could identify any similarity between his old life on Earth and his new life in this world, it was staring at him in the form of the juxtaposition between the messy account book and the clean new account book. This wasn’t the first time he'd kept books for those who skirted the edge of the law, and as he immersed himself in the tangled numbers, he could feel himself relaxing.

At least numbers don’t change. And people don’t either.

Time crept on and Ryn watched Garrett carefully. With only one hand, he moved slowly and wrote in shaky lines, but little by little the first page of the old ledger was copied into the new one. Though his new ledger didn’t have lines in it, Garrett made sure to take his time and lay it out in nice columns so lines could be added later. The pages of the old account book were packed with scribbles, creating a confusing mess of numbers, but Garrett didn’t get flustered as he moved through them. Occasionally he would use a scrap of paper to record a bunch of numbers and do some calculations before writing them down in the new book. Noticing that Garrett was writing more numbers in the new book, Ryn leaned over to try to understand what he was doing. Seeing her interest, Garrett paused to explain.

“This is called double-entry bookkeeping. It’s a method to ensure money doesn’t go missing.”

“Oh! That’s how you’re going to find the missing coins?”

“Correct. Using this method, we’ll be able to determine what money has come in and what money has gone out. Furthermore, we track the overall flow of money over time. It’s useful for our financial forensics, as well as setting up the data we need to find areas of improvement.”

Looking at Garrett suspiciously, Ryn glanced down at the neat columns Garrett had created and then back up at him.

“You just said a lot of words, but I didn’t understand any of them.”

“That’s fine,” Garrett said, waving his hand. “It just means we’re laying the groundwork for our second plan.”

“What second plan?”

“The plan where we make ourselves indispensable to Henrick,” Garrett replied, picking up his quill and dipping it in the open vial of ink. “But to get there, we have to do this first step properly. Would you mind fetching dinner? It should be about time.”

Nodding, Ryn got up, but her eyes kept drifting back to the neat-looking book Garrett was writing in, interest clear in her eyes.

“Is this something you’d like to learn how to do?” Garrett asked, putting his quill down and looking at her.

Meeting Garrett’s gaze, Ryn was shocked out of her daze by the cold, calculating look in his eyes. The difference between the look in his eyes and the words that came out of his mouth often shook her, causing her to wonder about the person she’d rescued. He was weak as a sick cat but held the eyes of a predator, making her wonder what he’d gone through to end up in such a disastrous situation.

“Ah, no, I couldn’t,” Ryn said, shaking her head. “I don’t know how to read or write.”

“Do you know how to add and subtract?”

“Uh, if I count it on my fingers,” Ryn said, blushing slightly.

“Then I can teach you,” Garrett said, picking up his quill again. “For now, get dinner and then we’ll discuss it.”