I picked up a leather-bound grimoire from the bedside table, its golden patterns glittering in the daylight. My trembling fingers brushed the elegant letters drawn by hand across the pages.
And my heart clenched.
The words, traced with admirable finesse, meant absolutely nothing to me. Whole lines of a foreign language stretched before my eyes, indecipherable, unreachable.
Damn it… Books, finally! And I can't even read them. Why can I understand the spoken language, but not the written one?
I sank back against the cushions. In the polished metal of an inkwell beside me, my reflection showed a powerless prince, trapped, with knowledge within reach but forever out of grasp.
A knock sounded at the door.
"Yes?"
I answered, ready to dismiss anyone, longing to be alone.
"Your Majesty, it is your first servant Elèrys. I bring the slave you requested."
Now that was perfect timing.
"Enter,"
I said simply.
The hinges gave a faint groan as the door opened, and two silhouettes stepped inside.
The first was Elèrys, my servant, bowing her head in proper reverence.
The second was indeed the cat-woman from my dungeon.
The young slave advanced, now dressed in a simple yet fresh tunic of ocean-blue linen, tightened at the waist by a pale leather belt. Her feet were no longer bare: small dark-blue shoes softened her silent steps. Upon seeing me, she immediately knelt, forehead nearly to the floor, feline tail hidden behind her legs, ears flattened back in absolute submission.
A pang ran through my chest.
She… she bows as though I were a god. And yet it was she who watched over me during those ten years of sleep. She who fed me, protected me. I owe her far more than she owes me.
I turned to my first servant.
"Leave us."
Her head shot up, eyes wide despite herself. A flash of shock crossed her face before she forced her expression back into stoicism. She bowed again and withdrew, walking backward as protocol demanded, head still lowered.
Silence fell.
I fixed my gaze on the girl still kneeling before me.
"Rise."
She hesitated, then shifted onto her knees, but kept her eyes locked on the floor. A faint flush stained her cheeks with discomfort.
"What is your name?" I asked softly.
Her ears twitched. She whispered, barely audible:
"Elora, Your Majesty."
"Elora… thank you. Thank you for watching over me all this time. Without you, I might not even be alive today."
Her eyes shot up, as though I'd uttered blasphemy.
"Majesty! You… you mustn't… It isn't for you to thank me. I am nothing!"
Her hands trembled upon her knees, her gaze darting away from mine, as if my words burned her.
I smiled gently.
"You are the only one I feel I can truly trust, Elora. All the others… They wear masks smiling on the surface. But you were here when I was… gone. So I trust you."
Her lips parted, but no sound came. Her amber eyes glistened, as though holding back tears.
"Come here, please."
I said, pointing to a velvet armchair beside the bed.
She hesitated, then sat down, curled in on herself as though trying to take up as little space as possible, clearly feeling out of place.
"Look at me, please, Elora."
She obeyed. Her face betrayed every emotion, though she tried to restrain them.
"Thank you, Elora."
She blushed…
I drew in a breath.
"There is something I must confess to you. My memory is… troubled. I have forgotten… how to read..."
Her eyes widened.
"To… forget how to read?! But…"
"Yes"
I cut in calmly.
"These books are here, all around me, but they're useless without you. I want you to read for me. To be my voice on these pages. If you'll accept."
She froze, ears flicking in turmoil. Then, gathering courage, she nodded and pressed her fist against her heart.
"Yes, Your Majesty. As you wish! Thank you for this opportunity!"
I would have asked her to speak less formally, but she might have burst into tears. That will have to wait.
I pointed at the piles of tomes.
"Begin by listing the subjects for me, please."
She rose, trailing her fingertips along the leather spines, reading the titles. Her voice, at first timid, grew steadier as she continued:
"Chronicles of Almaris… Collection of Ancient Prayers… The Herbal Treatises of Lady Ysolde… Geography of the Realms…"
I stopped her with a gesture.
"That one. Geography of the Realms."
She nodded, carefully pulled the volume from the shelf, and returned. The grimoire was thick, its cover engraved with a stylized dragon coiled around clouds.
She sat beside me, tail curled against her leg, and opened the book. Yellowed, crackling pages revealed magnificent illuminated maps.
Two maps faced each other: the first showed all the islands, like continents suspended above the ocean of mist. The second was extraordinary, it traced their heights relative to one another in a frontal cut.
"Here, Majesty, see… the kingdom of Gridènne, to the east, slightly higher than us. Its gray mountains pierce the mist. Their homes are carved directly into the rock. They are the main exporters of stone and minerals, so they cannot be overlooked despite their small population. But politically, they hold little sway."
She turned the page to another drawing.
"Flamelle, to the south, higher still than us. A volcanic land, poor in agriculture, but home to famed mages, especially fire-tamers. They are best known for enchanted objects that bring warmth and light."
Another page.
"Vérrige, somewhat southwest of us and higher still, is a forest land. They raise livestock and produce wood. They also have several beast-tamers and own three celestial whales."
"Here is Elysëa, slightly farther south than us, perched so high they gaze upon the sky. They see the sun by day and the moon by night. I would so love to see it one day… ah—pardon! Its mages are many and diverse, and its people are said to be scholars… though arrogant. A vast, wealthy territory. Politically, it holds the greatest influence."
She continued, describing other realms, small and large, each with its resources, strengths, and weaknesses. And with every word, the knowledge was recorded straight into my Encyclopedia tab.
So handy! No matter where I go, I'll always have a cheat-sheet with me. Why I didn't have that at school?!
I leaned again over the map, fascinated. Entire kingdoms, suspended in the sky like chess pieces. And me… in the middle of the board. Weak, surrounded, lowest in altitude…
My gaze met Elora's. She was reading fervently, her shyness forgotten for a moment—but then it returned, coloring her cheeks as she quickly looked away.
A knock at the door broke the moment. Elèrys entered after asking to, her face once again frozen into its cold mask. She bowed slightly and declared in a neutral voice:
"Your Highness, the slave must return to her chores."
I frowned. My eyes fell on Elora, still seated beside me, the book open on her knees. The joy she had shown while reading vanished at those words.
"There are no slaves here,"
I answered sharply.
"She is my new reader. She helps me recover, and that is far more important than any chores."
The room froze in silence. My servant's eyes widened, betraying her shock despite her discipline. Elora remained motionless, lips parted, incapable of speech. Then, suddenly, her amber eyes filled with tears. She pressed a trembling hand to her mouth and bowed deeply, her body shaking with sobs.
"Majesty… you… you can't… I… I don't deserve…"
I laid my hand gently on her shoulder.
"You deserve more than you think. Raise your head, Elora. From now on, you are no slave. You are my reader. If you accept this work, you are free, and you may choose your own path."
Tears streamed down her cheeks, but now a timid smile bloomed as well. She nodded, trying to thank me but choked by sobs and sudden emotion.
With a trembling yet determined hand, I helped her up from the floor.
"Come now. Let us read again. Tell me more about my kingdom please, so I may know what I must protect."
The day passed in a strange blend of work and gentleness. Elora read long passages on the history of Almaris: its golden age, its wars, its kings. Maps showed once-fertile fields and thriving villages… before drought consumed it all.
That evening, after her departure, I sat in thought, until the familiar chime rang once more. The interface opened as I lay on the bed.
[Intelligence +3]
A smile touched my lips. The interface expanded, now filled with hundreds of new unlocked entries.
A new notification appeared:
New interaction available:
Spend Knowledge Points
I tapped it, and the interface asked what earthly knowledge I sought.
Well… I had to choose carefully.
My kingdom depends on others for food. These lands are too dry to sustain our people. The rain is scarce compared to the past. Only Duke Bellifort manages it with his vineyards. Without water, Almaris will perish. So water must be my first priority.
I asked the interface how to capture water from the air.
[Atmospheric Water Collection System: Fine-Mesh Nets]
– Cost: 15 Knowledge Points
At the top, I had 20 knowledge points. Expensive, but necessary. I confirmed the purchase.
The article opened, revealing precise diagrams: vast nets stretched between poles, trapping humidity from the mist and condensing droplets into flowing basins. Technical plans, scientific explanations, everything was there.
Simple. Ingenious. Vital. With this, we would have water. From survival, prosperity could bloom.
I had a few points left. I could have saved them, but another priority came to mind:
[Muscle Rehabilitation: Walking & Strengthening Exercises]
– Cost: 5 Knowledge Points
No hesitation. Exactly what I needed! The article unfolded, detailing simple, progressive exercises and massages to rebuild atrophied muscles. Again, everything was there: illustrations and explanations.
Perfect. Little by little, each movement would demand less effort and cause less pain. I couldn't manage it alone, but I could teach it to someone.
I closed the interface, heart pounding. In the silence of my chamber, I thought of everything I had uncovered, everything that could now be possible.
Water, my first stone to rebuild the kingdom. The rest will follow.
I drifted to sleep with a smile, dreaming of nets unfurled in the mist and of running again, this time in a new world, still full of mysteries to explore.
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The Awakening of Prince Drago
Chapter 8 : Knowledge
by Léonardo de Deuille