[Inside the dream-like realm. . .]
"Then die, my friend," a voice said.
Emory forced his eyes to focus. He braced himself on his feet and searched. "Who said that? Who is here?"
A figure emerged from the sand and stood tall as a tower. Her looming frame cast a deep shadow that covered Emory and everything behind him.
Her eyes flamed like the red pupils of a lion in the dead of night. She was a hunter, he was prey. A black trench coat whirled menacingly around her shoulders as she moved.
The sand below Emory began to heat, but he could not run. He could not seek shelter from the rising temperature. He could do nothing but surrender his attention to the woman before him.
She had beautiful features, uncanny skin, and deep brown eyes. While her gaze was frightening, a strange, childish aura seeped out of her. Emory saw the edges of her mouth curl into a smile.
"Hello there." She warped behind Emory and rubbed his shoulders. "My, my. This is quite immodest, I would say."
Emory's face blushed as he remembered his nakedness. He rapidly covered himself and bent awkwardly. "D–Don't look. ."
The woman laughed—a sound exactly like the sneering sand and the voice that called to him during the monster alarm. "Don't worry, I'm not interested in you that way." She smiled. "You know. . . If you want clothes, just imagine them."
"I–Imagine?"
"Precisely." She snapped her fingers. "Take this key."
The woman handed Emory a bone-like key. "Now, raise it into the air and twist it."
Emory did as she said. Why had this mysterious person appeared? Why was she helping? It was an odd conversation for the two of them to have.
"Good. Now, think. Imagine yourself wearing clothes. Come on, you can do it."
". . ."
The basic clothes he usually wore at home appeared on Emory's body. Dumbfounded, he managed, "Who are you?"
"Sylphossia."
"Where am I? And. . . What are you doing here?"
"Hold your horses, my friend. I don't know either. In all honesty, I woke up and found myself alone in this sandy dune, haha."
She's lying, Emory realized easily. In this scenario, where this all-powerful Sylphossia seemed to control everything, there was no way she was as lost as him.
Sylphossia chuckled, "Alright, fine. I lied. You were summoned here by my Master."
"Why?" Emory's cheeks trembled.
Sylphossia paced around the child. "There are many, many reasons why he summoned you here, Emory Vaughan. The biggest one being: you're a target."
"Target?"
She loomed over the boy, a wicked smile plastered on her face.
"Yes. And without my master's help, you would have been dead the moment you left Isabelle Vaughan's womb."
"I–Isabelle. . ." Emory's expression warped. "How do you know my mother?"
"So many questions. . ." Sylphossia sighed.
She snapped her fingers and summoned a table with two chairs. "Sit."
Emory's body moved without his command.
Sylphossia rapped her fingers on the table and produced two cups filled with a mysterious liquid. She took the one closest to her and gulped it down. "Ahhh. That hits the spot. . ."
Emory stayed watching. Who the hell is this woman?
Sylphossia chuckled again and said, "It must be hard being left in the unknown like this. Nowhere to go. No one to trust. No knowledge on anything that's happening."
She leaned in. "Everyone thinks that to be prosperous, you need strength and strength only. What a fallacy. What will strength do when you're alone, unsure of where to go or who to talk to?"
She placed the cup on the table. "Have no fear, you can trust me. I'll give you all the answers you'd like. Knowledge is power, as I love to say." Sylphossia grabbed the glass beside Emory and drank that one too. "Oops, my fingers slipped." She burst out laughing.
"This isn't a dream, Emory Vaughan."
This. . . isn't? he thought. "Huh. . .? Ms. Mirielis told me to shut my eyes, and the last thing I remember was falling asleep."
"Your pea brain wouldn't understand." She moved her hand in strange patterns, and both cups were refilled.
Pea brain? This woman. . . And what the heck did she mean by me being a target? Can someone else come? Anyone else. Please!
"Maisedes wants your head. He's been wanting it since the moment of your birth." Sylphossia's tone lowered. "So do Geronim, Rothias, and Baman. Hell, every Usurped and Lapsed Emperor wants you dead. Must be frightening."
I know who Maisedes is, but Geronim? Rothias? Baman? Lapsed Emperors? What. . . And why do they want me dead? I don't even know them!?
"My Master told me to protect you, so that's what I'll do. Understand?"
"Master?"
Sylphossia smiled and raised the glass. She gulped it down in a flash of time no human could replicate.
"I am the Second Servant of Contrivance, Wishbringer of Sustenance, Sylphossia Telantes. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Emory Vaughan. We'll be seeing a lot of each other."
She tapped the table, shortening it so their faces were inches apart. "Of course, since I'll be providing you safety, Master demands you repay us."
"I–I need to get home. Your help is unneeded, f–find someone else." Emory tried to stand up, but realized his feet were shackled deep within the sand.
"I can make them blazing shackles if you'd like."
He shook his head.
"I'm glad you're obedient." Sylphossia adjusted her silky black hair. "From now until you reach a certain age, I'll be protecting you. Whether it be overtly or covertly is your choice. Call for me, I'll come. Ask of me, I'll answer."
She grinned. "It can be for anything as trivial as you'd like."
What is she suggesting? I'm only nine. . .
"As you grow, the Usurped and Lapsed Emperors' threats will grow as well. It's not going to be some low-level terrorist stopping you at a military stop anymore, no. They'll send some of their strongest people. They won't stop until you're dead, Vaughan. They want your head."
Too much information. Emory felt severe dizziness creeping in. "I still don't know if I even should believe you. . ." His voice cracked. "Why me? Why are they targeting me?"
Sylphossia went silent for a moment. "That is an answer only my Master knows. I'm just assigned for your protection."
He swallowed hard and nodded. This world. . .
"Now, you'll need to do just two little things for your repayment." She held up two fingers. "Your time limit lasts until you reach twenty-five."
Twenty five years?
"Yes, and if you don't, your heart will automatically explode."
She must be lying, Emory discerned. Such power is fathomless. He knew sorcerers were real and he'd seen them before, but automatic killings were folly.
"Don't believe me?" Sylphossia taunted as she started closing her fingers into a fist.
Thump! Thump!
All air left Emory's lungs. His limbs and chest went motionless. His throat clogged. Pain—unbearable pain.
She continued squeezing. Emory gasped for air, saliva pouring from the side of his mouth. His eyes reddened at the edges and his head throbbed. Help. . . help. . . help. . . help. . .
"Now, do you understand?" She let go. "If you don't do what Master asks, your heart will explode like this."
"Huff. . . What does your–cough–Master even want. . ?"
Sylphossia inclined closer, her breath odorless. "Find the remnant base of the Bersebus Empire and destroy it. Then, locate a little girl named Aglana and bring her to Contrivance."
. . . .
It was hard to breathe.
Emory awakened from the horrible slumber and panted. His vision took time to adjust, showing only a blurry view. Beside him was Mirielis Adeliz, who looked like all life had vanished from her.
The grass's blades tickled his body, and the bright blue sky above draped the atmosphere. Luckily, Emory's clothes were there. Unfortunately, he had gained a throbbing migraine while sleeping.
Sylphossia. . . Second Servant of Contrivance. . . Wishbringer of Sustenance. . . Bersebus Empire. . . His mind raced.
A young girl named Aglana. . . I need to first destroy a remnant Empire and then find a girl named Aglana. And if I don't, Sylphossia will do what she did before. Argh, I can't go through that pain again. Never again.
He looked at the others, shivering.
Mirielis twitched violently. She clutched the side of her neck and screamed, "Stop! Stop! I get it now! I won't speak of him anymore! I won't think of him anymore! Please! Don't hurt me!"
She rolled on the ground, catching the attention of Alanus Diogenes and Lluvia Gallitusio. Emory's father, Charles, was nowhere to be seen.
"Mirielis?" they both said. The woman scratched herself and wailed:
"Contrivance is infinity! Contrivance is infinity!"