A Dream Escape
Chapter 4
“Interesting. So you can nullify even dark sorcery?” the emperor said.
“If His Highness has truly been affected by the Curse of the Clansmen from five hundred years ago, I will be of no help to him, as a Desensian myself,” Sonidor said.
It is your empire that trampled the peace of my people with your invasion. You brought this on yourselves, she wanted to say, but knew better. Doing so would only forfeit her life.
“No. Perhaps because you are a Desensian yourself, that will be key to dealing with the problem,” the emperor replied.
The bell over the door jingled again. To Sonidor’s dismay, it was the other hooded men who had disappeared with the unpleasant customer. If they protected the emperor, then they were bound to be imperial knights—the knights of the Reizel Guard. Each knight of the order was said to be unrivaled in skill, and equal in prowess to an entire army.
The Reizel Guard! Terry’s shocked eyes glittered, but this time with a different emotion—he looked like he wanted to ask for an autograph. Sonidor was visibly disgusted by his obsessive behavior. Although, Terry liked to call it admiration.
Enough, you lunatic!
“I will ask only one more time. Can you do it?”
The emperor was giving her a choice—but it was the choice between hanging or drowning. If she refused, she was sure to be killed. Even if she agreed, she would probably be worked to death. The latter option held a slim chance of survival, at least.
Sonidor looked as though she had a piece of food in her mouth she would rather not swallow. Until now, any client she didn’t like, she had simply kicked out. However, if she did that to the emperor, he would do her the same discourtesy—except it would be to expel her from the material plane.
“If you wish, I can offer you a title.”
Giving a title to a meister was a truly shocking offer, but she quickly shook her head. Receiving a title would be too much of a hassle, and it would mean that her life would no doubt end up threatened frequently. She didn’t want it.
“Oh. No, thank you. I mean, I’m certainly grateful, but it’s not necessary,” she said.
“You may speak your mind. Is there something you want in particular?”
“Guarantee that I will live?” she asked.
“You seem to have a very harsh opinion of me. I do not kill my people without reason.”
Perhaps not, but you’re going to kill me if I fail. You just told me that you were going to wear the last straw down to nothing—in other words, work me like a slave until I die!
Sonidor kept these thoughts to herself and glanced at Terry. All the emperor needed was her, the Dream Meister. Her assistant didn’t need to be involved in this dangerous affair.
“Then leave my assistant out of this, please,” she said.
“What? I refuse!” Terry said, glaring at her. He had been badly distracted by the sight of the Reizel Guard.
Look at this ungrateful kid. You’re glowering at me now? Talk about wasted kindness. Fuming, she glared right back at him.
The emperor glanced between the both of them and grinned with satisfaction. “Impossible. He’s already heard everything,” he said.
Hey. That means if I fail, you’re also a dead man, she thought, reading between the lines and patting him gently on the shoulder. She bit back a sigh. Since it had come to this, she would have to go all in. Sonidor just prayed that the curse or illness—or whatever it was that plagued the crown prince—was not so severe she couldn’t do anything about it.
“All right. We will discuss the consequences of failure later. Let me first explain the rewards,” the emperor said, rubbing his smooth chin with his fingers and pausing. He had already figured out what they really wanted.
“First of all, I will give your assistant the opportunity to train with my knights.”
Terry’s reddish-brown eyes widened. His fingers trembled from disbelief. Then he suddenly grabbed Sonidor by the shoulders, shaking her back and forth and staring as if to ask whether he was dreaming. Since the emperor was watching, he was holding himself back as best as he could, but he seemed ready to start dancing on the sofa and howling with joy.
“As for you… It seems you want money.”
W-well, I wouldn’t say money is my only motivator, Sonidor grumbled to herself, though she said nothing out loud. The emperor seemed to have decided she was the lazy, money-hungry sort, and it saddened her that he wasn’t exactly wrong.
“Well, money aside…” she said, her voice barely audible. Pushing away an excited Terry, she continued, “I’m not even going to ask that meisters be acknowledged as proper citizens, but could you guarantee our freedom, perhaps? That way we could at least escape the empire if the persecution gets to be too much.”
There were always more ways to make money, but she knew that an opportunity like this was unlikely to come up more than once in her lifetime. She could not turn a blind eye to the meisters still suffering undeserved disdain and persecution as Desensian clansmen. She would have liked nothing better than to regain their lost territory, as well as the many rights they had been denied over the years, but that would be a losing gamble likely to cost her life.
The emperor frowned and said, “How rude.”
“My apologies, Your Majesty.”
“Fine. After all, you will be curing my one and only heir. But know this. I am betting everything on you, as the only remaining Dream Meister in the Arkae Empire. If you succeed, I will give meisters the right to emigrate. And you will have enough wealth that you won’t have to work another day in your life.”
His words were so heavy they almost knocked her over like a physical force. She was so uncomfortable she was nearly choking.
Unconsciously bowing and rubbing her hands together like a greedy money-grabber, she asked cautiously, “I-if I may… How much money do you mean when you say I won’t have to work… another day?”
“How about ten billion bouqs?”
She gasped like something had slammed into her stomach, and her hand clutched her chest. It was certainly an amount that would easily cause heart issues in an ordinary citizen. While Terry blushed and stole glances at the knights, Sonidor considered the sum. The corners of her mouth twitched.
Oh, I nearly started drooling.
“Now then, let’s discuss what happens when you fail.”
Heaven and hell were sometimes only a moment apart. She jerked to attention, like a bucket of cold water to the face. Her excitement quenched completely, she nodded slowly.
“I don’t think you need to tell me.”
“Well, that’s good to hear.” The emperor smiled pleasantly at her. “Dream Meister? End this curse once and for all.”
*
“Hmm.”
Sonidor stood in front of a mirror, carefully inspecting her face. She wasn’t sure about the other parts of her face, but her eyes—they were something to behold. Her green eyes glistened like dew on blades of grass. They were big and pretty too. Her scarlet hair, however, was too curly. No amount of work seemed to make it neat. It was always sticking up like she’d just gotten out of bed.
“Ugh!”
She gave up on letting it down and pulled it into a high ponytail. It would have looked neater if she had put it into a bun or braided it, but she didn’t have the skill. There was nobody she was looking to please, but going to the palace made her nervous.
She chose the shirt that had the least amount of lint, pulled a black vest over it, and put on a skirt and coat made of gray wool. This sort of formal wear was not common for women, though Sonidor found it so comfortable that she’d had several sets custom-made, and wore them every day. She finished dressing by pulling on some magical shoes that made her look at least a hand span taller.
Terry pursed his lips, noting how desperate she was to make herself look even a little less vertically challenged. Like it would do any good! Didn’t her feet hurt?
“Do I look good today?” she asked.
“You look the same as any other day.”
“Look closely. I ironed my clothes, and my ponytail is higher than usual.”
“You might be right,” Terry said nonchalantly, packing their things into a bag that had been enchanted to be lighter.
Sonidor watched the luggage as it disappeared into the seemingly bottomless bag, as well as her now-vacant office—she was visibly appalled. It seemed Terry was putting everything except the furniture into their bag.
How does he intend to take out all that stuff later?
“What are we, fugitives?” she asked.
“We might never come back to this place. No harm in taking what we can.”
“D-don’t say stuff like that. It’s bad luck.” One could never predict what the future might bring. Even as she scolded him, she shuddered, reminded of the emperor’s cold eyes.
She needed to wake the crown prince, no matter what it took. Her life, Terry’s, and even the fate of her people depended on it. If the crown prince did not wake, his coma could not be kept a secret forever. If a rumor that the curse was back started going around, odds were the bloody massacre of five centuries ago would repeat itself.
Recalling the gravity of the situation, which she had done her best to ignore, Sonidor grew gloomy. She was just an ordinary Desensian woman. The weight of it was nearly squashing her flat.
Why do I have to bear such a heavy responsibility?
While it would have been nice if there were no restrictions to her power, this was not the case with Sonidor. Some meisters could bend metal all day, every day, but if she went into a dream, she came back in tatters. That was how difficult it was to deal with the memories and mind of another person—employing brute strength was nothing in comparison. Similarly, the prophetic meisters who could foresee the fate of a kingdom and those who could travel through time in both directions also faced many restrictions to their power.
In any case, this restriction required her to be as efficient as possible each time she entered a dream. When Sonidor used her ability, she connected her mind to the sleeping client’s, creating a new space—the dream. This dream world was beyond her control.
In other words, it was not within her ability to design the dream world. It was created based on things the client had seen, heard, and experienced. They could be memories from the past or present, a desired future, or perhaps the stuff of delusions and imagination.
Sonidor would be forced to make do in a world created by the subconscious of a client, of whom she knew nothing. Most people who came to her, however, had a powerful desire they needed to satisfy, and they created worlds that she found easy to work with even if she didn’t ask what it was they wanted.
For example, her recent client, Lefonz, had desperately wanted to meet his first love before he died and tell her how he felt about her. He’d harbored deep regret because he hadn’t been able to confess after all these years—that was why he had come to her. Sonidor had created a dream space—a re-creation of the garden where he had first met Lyla. Then, she had transformed into the being the client most desired, his first love.
That sort of luck was rare. Sometimes, if things were terrible, she would be forced to navigate a completely unfamiliar place. That was why it was necessary to ask her clients all the questions she could think of before beginning—questions regarding the people they knew, their childhood, their preferences when it came to dating, their hobbies, their dreams, and so on.
However, Sonidor knew nothing at all about the crown prince.
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