Chapter 70 – The Prince Emil Volfarro

How could that happen? Did this old man never notice the Shadows walking around? That can’t be. They’re hard not to notice. What were these shadows doing in his library? 

It was too many questions all at once. She narrowed it down to one. 

“Master Vantre, these people who didn’t talk much. What did they look like?” 

The old man looked at her as if she had asked the most ridiculous question. “They looked like…people?” 

“They looked like people, but they certainly didn’t talk like normal people?” Sarka asked. 

“Ha?” Vantre scratched his old head. “I didn’t think they talked weird either.” 

Darya had a theory. Of course Vantre wouldn’t think of any talk as weird. He probably hadn’t seen ‘normal’ people a lot. Still, he should’ve actually seen blackened humanoids walking around his house. 

He’s not seeing them that way, then. He’s seeing them like normal people. Wait. Wait. Is that part of the Dreagan infection? 

“Old master, can you look at your hand and tell me what you see?” She asked politely.

Vantre looked at her, bewildered again. That was the second most ridiculous question he must have heard today. 

“I see my hand. As it was yesterday?” 

“Do you see it blackened?!” Sarka asked. It seemed he had already picked up what Darya was about to piece together. 

“Ah, not that. It looks the way it does, but it feels like wood. That is the curse.” Vantre tilted his head. “People did call it blackened a very long time ago. I read it in a book about the black orb infection as well.” 

Sarka gasped.

“There it is,” Darya said. “He doesn’t see the Shadows as Shadows. He sees people.” 

There could’ve been more normal people mixed in with that, and with his deteriorating memory, they all blur into a mess. 

“One more question, old master. This has been nagging at me as well,” Sarka asked. “How long was this long time ago? What year was it, when were you born?” 

“Wait. He is actually from the Greybone Kingdom?!” 

“Of course I am. Keeper of the keys, aren’t I?!” Vantre said proudly. “Lord Yarek himself honored my family with these keys. I got them from my father.” 

“Mother goddess. It is exactly like that. The Dreagan infection has kept you alive for several lifetimes!” Sarka said. 

Vantre rolled his lips, closing one eye as he dove deep into thought. He swayed a couple times and nodded. “Oh! That’s what it was! I knew things got weird after I lost that damned clock. Ha! What day is it?” 

How could he just live the same day over and over and never notice?! I would’ve gone insane. 

Darya scoffed. He had taken the news of his elven lifespan way better than she thought. “Let’s just do this later. I don’t even know where to begin.” 

Vantre nodded cordially and gestured at the closed curtain. “Indeed, princess. Please tend to your lover first!” 

“Not my—” Darya paused. “Yeah, whatever. Let me wake him up.” 

She walked around the pit to the other side and pried the curtain open. It was a low bed propped up on short stumps. A bundle lay in the middle, facing away from the curtain. 

Darya leaned in, grabbed the edge of the bedsheet, and pulled it open. The sleeping boy had blonde hair and slightly tanned skin. He was built lanky with longer limbs. He shuddered when the sheet flew off, mumbled something, and patted around with a yawn. 

Darya grabbed his shoulder. “Emil Volfarro,” she said loudly. “Time to wake up.” 

She may as well have punched him. Emil snapped awake as if he got tased. He jumped onto his bottom and crawled back, clutching his heart, eyes wide in shock. 

For a moment, he and Darya stared at each other. Emil’s eyebrows climbed further up his forehead. He pointed a trembling finger. 

“Y-you-you-yu—ack!” He started coughing. 

“Good morning,” Darya said, walking around. 

“You’re here!” Emil cried, crawling on all fours right up to her. “Oh dear gods, you’re here!” 

The boy wrapped his arms around her legs and shoved his face into her stomach. This sort of thing was fine with Lurim, but Darya couldn’t get over the fact that Emil was nearly a grown man. She grabbed his shoulders to pry him off, but then heard the sobs. 

Is he actually crying? What do I do?!

“I thought you died…!” Emil howled into her dress. “Left me alone!” 

“Prince Volfarro! Everything is alright! calm yourself. You are being rescued!” Sarka said. 

Emil nearly leapt off the bed. “Wh-who was that!” He asked, looking around. 

“I am Sar—” 

Darya clapped her hands. She knew ‘Sarka’ was the last word this distressed boy wanted to hear. 

“That wasn’t me. I have a soulstone ring now,” Darya said, pointing at it. 

Emil crawled right back and clung on. “Oh thanf gof…!”

“I came to get you as fast as I could,” Darya said, patting his shoulder awkwardly. “Too bad it still took a while.” 

Emil was glued to her at least for a quarter of an hour. He listed everything that went wrong. He had a book's worth of complaints, directed at the world itself, the stupid Dreagans, and that idiot horned druid that ruined his life. He was sad about Darya’s apparent death, mad about losing his weapons, worried about Rossarie, missed Seris and Fominel way too much, and he wanted to sleep on his bed in the Desert Rose. 

After he got it all out, Emil was wiping his nose with a handkerchief.

Emil was ready. It was finally Darya’s turn to deliver good and bad news all at once. She didn’t really have a strategy to trickle information, nor did she have the patience to curate things. She started with the most pressing one. 

“Emil, I’m going to say some crazy things starting right now. Do not interrupt me for any reason. Understood?” 

“Alright,” Emil squeezed his snotty nose with the handkerchief. 

She extended her right hand before Emil’s face and waved her fingers to show him the ring. Emil looked at her curiously, tears glistening in his eyes. 

“Number one. Magus Sarka is inside this ring,” she said bluntly. “Sarka, introduce yourself.” 

“Oh, mother goddess!” Sarka coughed. “I am Sarka vol Recaldor, the—” 

“What?!” Emil’s jaw fell open. 

“Shh, do not interrupt!” Darya said sternly. 

“I apologize for any distress my Shadow may have—definitely has caused you, Prince Volfarro. I was trapped in that body for a hundred and twenty years myself.” 

“Wha—”

“Shh,” Darya hissed. “The only thing you should know right now is this: Sarka is a friend. He was never your enemy.”  

Emil covered his mouth with his hand and nodded. 

“Number two. This might be a bit shocking, but I actually died. I was brought back with a resurrection stone. I was awakened, and I lost all of my memories as a result. I may not be the same Darya Altazark that you remember.” 

“Wha….t?!” 

“Shh!” 

“Number three. Seris, Fominel and I located you and Rossarie with merfolk Seers. Rossarie is stuck in a dungeon on one of these islands. Seris and Fominel are taking the ship to find Rossarie right now.” 

If Emil’s eyes could widen any further, they would pop out of his skull. 

“Number four. Shadows has visited old master Vantre before. He cannot tell them apart from real people because he is a partial Shadow himself.”

“Wait, that part I—”

“Yes, I think you figured that much out yourself.” 

“Permission to talk!” Emil insisted. 

“Fine. Keep it short.” 

“I figured that out about a week into this. Old man doesn’t remember things. He forgot everything I told him when he first found me. I had to fight a shadow without my weapons! I almost died!” 

“Ah, this explains what I thought was very rude behavior from a prince!” Sarka said. “You stopped talking with him because you felt frustrated.” 

“Yes…” Emil said, averting his eyes. “Now she says she doesn’t remember me either.” 

“I don’t know what to tell you about that, Emil,” Darya said. This wasn’t a topic that she could tackle in a rush. Seris and Fominel had their own ways to come to terms with it. Emil didn’t seem capable of that. “I still came for you, just based on everything everyone told me about you. Surely, that’s enough for now?” 

Emil looked at her and sighed. 

“I’m glad you came for me, Darie.” There was something different in his eyes when he said it. Darya was sure it was genuine. Emil wasn’t as big of an annoying crybaby as she thought. 

Reasonable reactions, to be honest. I would’ve handled something like this way worse. He’s just a teenager. 

“I’m curious, Prince Volfarro,” Sarka said, grabbing their attention. “We know you lost your precious weapons. When did that happen?” 

“When we came back,” Emil said.

“Tea for you all, princess, prince,” Old Man Vantre interrupted, carrying a tray of three cups of hot tea. Darya had been too distracted to tell the old man to relax. He had already gone ahead and done it. 

“Thank you, master Vantre,” She said politely, taking a cup. Emil thanked him and took another cup. 

Vantre stood with the third cup for a few seconds. “Wait a minute…Magus Sarka—” 

Sarka laughed. “Appreciate the sentiment, old master. I am but a ring. Please enjoy your tea!” 

“My word, I should start paying attention to my guests one of these days!” Vantre laughed sheepishly, rubbing his head. 

Emil took a sip and continued, “I lost my weapons during the first fight with Sarka after we got ported here. Rossarie wasn’t doing well, and I didn’t have anything else I could do. I had to sacrifice both my weapons to land a hit. You know, force that damned druid to port somewhere again.”

Sarka coughed and muttered under his breath. “Damned, druid…” 

“…well, I couldn’t jump back fast enough. So, he ported with me and left Rossarie behind.” Emil slapped his knee. “He and I, we got ported to this island. The circle was inside the castle up there. I thought that was it for me, but my weapons exploded the way I planned. That blast damaged him enough to port away. I managed to jump off the circle just in time.” 

“I see, that’s exactly as we theorized,” Sarka said with a satisfied tone.

“I see. He ported from here to somewhere else. Eventually fought me, almost died. Ported back to that first island with my warblade. Rossarie was still around. She must’ve finished him. I don’t know how that put her in the dungeons. I guess Seris and Fom will figure that part out.”

“I-is that what happened!” Emil asked eagerly.  

“Good. Good. That brings me to the last point. Emil, I don’t think you figured this out yet. If you did, I don’t think you would’ve been comfortable enough to sleep in a bed all day. ” 

“Wait, what are you talking about?” 

“Number five. A Dreagan is hovering above this island like a moon. That’s where all the shadows master Vantre met must’ve come from.” 

Emil almost spilled hot tea all over himself. “There’s a what?!”