Curselock: A Cursed LITRPG Adventure

The next day went by rather quickly, at least for Leland and Jude. Glenny, while not relaxing like his friends, technically had a simple day. Being induced to a dream-like state by a ghostly Priest of the Void did that to a person.

With the adults and Sybil moving around the royal campus preparing for tomorrow’s arrival, little was left for Leland and Jude to do. So after morning exercises, they explored the city together. It was strange seeing the Reflections now that the curtain was pulled back.

Streets full of ghostly citizens of an ancient civilization, each partying like their lives depended on it. Which, to Leland at least, was ironic since they were long dead. But now knowing that King Harlen was the sole cause of this phenomenon was something special.

Leland had eased out some details about Harlen from the man himself. After the duel, Harlen had a much keener interest in the boys, specifically Glenny. From the young rogue’s pleas to help him with the voices in his mind to Leland’s heritage and Lord, Harlen was more than willing to speak to them.

“It’s a simple tale,” Harlen had said to Leland while sipping on a chalice made of golden ghostly mana. “A failure of a King led his people to a slow death but the King couldn’t let his people die, so he made a deal with his Lord for the power to keep them alive. The power came at a cost, however, and now my people and I are one and the same.”

“That does not sound like a simple tale,” Leland had muttered, sipping his own wine, which was probably the most expensive drink he’d ever tasted. “Then what about the Reflections? Why are you not in Ruinsforth at all times?”

“The Void comes for all,” Harlen said with a shrug. “But sometimes the Void needs assistance in making sure that happens.”

“It can’t be a coincidence that the Royal Dream is the same week as the Reflections.”

“It is not, and I suppose I can tell the tale to someone with your stature.”

Leland was slow on connecting the dots. “I don’t have any idea what you mean.”

Harlen laughed. “I’m sure, I’m sure.” He gestured to his right, sending a glob of blue mist to the floor. The glob morphed into the form of a server, who then poured him another cup. The person melted back into mist, which then rejoined with Harlen.

“Tell me,” he then asked Leland, “what do you know of the Royal Dream?”

“Not much, only that it is the ceremony around a Palemarrow’s Dream Ceremony.”

“Correct, but only partially. No, the Royal Dream is a cover for a Lord to walk this realm.”

Leland flinched at the statement. He suddenly felt an odd sensation on the back of his neck, like someone was staring at him. He turned, finding Aunty P. smiling harmlessly at him. He returned the gesture, then turned back to Harlen.

“What do you mean,” Leland leaned forward and whispered, “’a Lord walks this realm?’”

“Well now,” the ghost King said with a smirk, “I can’t tell you the Palemarrow Kingdom’s greatest secret.” He swirled his drink around. “I suppose you, being who you are, do have the right to know.”

Leland frowned. “I’m not who you think I am.”

“Oh, right. I forgot again. Silly me.” Harlen’s eyes drifted past Leland to Aunty P. She did not look back at him. “An awkward predicament you’ve found yourself in. One I will not mention again, if you so wish.”

“Please.”

Harlen threw up his hands, nodding at the request. “I see. But to answer your question—”

“Excuse me, everyone!” Aunty P. dinged her glass several times with a snail-shucking fork. “Your attention please, I have a few announcements.”

Everyone gave her their undivided attention.

“Tomorrow is a big day, one filled with many appointments and many more preparations.” She raised her glass to Sybil. “My youngest niece officially arrives in the morning, meaning her nineteenth birthday nears.” Aunty P. then drawled on about what it meant to be family and such. She ended the speech with, “So, since tomorrow is such a big day, let us end the night here and get some much needed rest.”

Suffice it to say, Leland didn’t get to finish the conversation with Harlen, not that he wasn’t disappointed. He had long learned that Lordly dealings were something of a slippery slope. He didn’t want anyone besides those he trusted knowing about his contracts, and frankly not knowing about the Palemarrow’s operations was probably for the best.

Although Leland was able to infer a few things. His parents had told him that Harlen and the rest of the Reflections were allowed to walk the mortal world for the Royal Dream – specifically to defend it. Now that he knew a Lord was involved, having a whole ancient city on retainer seemed like a good starting move.

The change from the isolating silence of the royal campus to Ruinsforth’s main square was something akin to entering a dungeon. Jude and Leland, if they were any less rugged, would have long ago been swept into the sea of never slowing people. The flow of traffic moved around the city’s greatest tourist locations, and even spilled onto some of the black stone streets.

Leland and Jude were able to push their way to where they wanted to go, albeit not without effort.

“Are these the only books on Ancient Script you have?” Leland asked the clerk of a runic shop after a lengthy wait to get to the front of the store.

“Yes,” she replied quite crisply.

“Are you sur—”

“Sir, please. I don’t have the time to deal with you. Do you not see how many people are in here right now?”

Leland was slightly taken back by the tone, although he did understand. He was costing her potential sales. “I understand,” he said, sliding the books over to her.

While the books were in the same runic language as the Bookkeeper’s tattoo, they weren’t helpful. The books were basic, nearly identical to the ones he read as a kid.

“Any luck?” Jude asked once Leland was outside. The berserker had decided to stay out of the crowded building, if not because of claustrophobia then because he could hum some notes through his harmonica.

“No. Looks like I’ll have to go back to that black stone shop,” Leland replied. “But that’s for when my parents are with me. No way am I going back there without someone worthy of respect.”

“So does that mean…?”

“Yes, yes. Let’s get some meat on a stick and find a music store.”

Jude’s eyes lit up. “Maybe we can get you something as well. And Glenny for that matter. Just think about how awesome a band we could be if we—”

His words were cut off abruptly when a small woman bumped into him. It was unbearably crowded, which meant shoulders touching was very frequent. But as Jude had learned from experience, sometimes a simple bump wasn’t a simple bump.

“Ouch!” the woman sang, finding her wrist encased by Jude’s hands. In her own hand, however, was a small knife, one meant to cut coin purses off a person’s belt.

“Ah, a little pickpocket—”

Almost on cue, the woman activated a Legacy ability and peeled her hand out of Jude’s clasp. She then disappeared into the crowd like she was a practiced escape artist. Jude ducked down, trying to see through the street’s forest of legs, but ultimately came up empty.

“At least you didn’t lose your harmonica again,” Leland said, patting his friend on the back.

“True… although I’m just surprised at how she was able to escape so easily,” Jude replied scratching the back of his head. “Come to think of it, during my duel with Glenny, he escaped from my grapple.”

“He cheated a bit, using shadows and stuff.”

“But I have cheats of my own too.” Jude went thoughtful. “On second thought, let’s find somewhere a bit more open. I need more practice with Floe’s blessing.”

“Can we do it back at the royal campus? Plenty of flat land up there.”

“Any more sightings?” Aunty P. asked Spencer.

They were sitting on two lawn chairs, both overlooking a small balcony facing the city proper. They had known each other for many, many years at this point, Aunty P. having long used Spencer’s magical talents around the castle. There were few mages who specialized in spatial magic and even fewer who had a combative eye.

Knowing where to set traps, reinforce weak points, and just how an invader would think were a set of abilities crucial to the Queen’s and the royal family’s protection. And Spencer had long proven to have such capabilities. He was trusted, almost implicitly, by Aunty P.

“A few,” Spencer replied. “Blips, gone as quick as they appear. Legacies of the Pathway are sly, and she’s only creating pathways for a short time, which makes tracking impossible. Truthfully, I think it’s a scare tactic, not an actual threat.”

“All threats are actual threats.”

Spencer might have argued with that when he was younger, but after Sybil was taken… he wasn’t too sure about things anymore. The enemies had already proven themselves capable, something which was incredibly worrying since Carmon had found the traitorous maid. Was the maid a ploy or an accident? Both were possible, while the former was more likely.

Harbingers didn’t often make mistakes.

“Of course,” he replied. “I’ll make sure to—”

Aunty P. moved her eyes from the city skyline. She found Spencer stone frozen, concentrating on something far beyond her ability to understand. Magic was always magic to her, she never truly sought to learn the craft.

“Weird,” Spencer said after a moment. “The Pathway just tried to break one of my anchors.”

“And that means?”

“She’s looking for weak points? Testing my strength, I’d assume. It was incredibly blatant, however. Almost like she was…”

“Spencer?”

His eyes were darting back and forth, tracing his invisible creations with a master’s touch. As he went, he rethreaded mana up and around, searching everything again and again until…

“Found it,” Spencer said, creating a portal beside himself. He reached a hand in, pulling out an item from the far end of the city. A piece of paper, folded and addressed to Sybil. He quickly handed it to Aunty P. after a quick series of diagnostic cantrips. The letter was safe.

The Eldest Princess flipped open the paper with a bored look. She read over the lines, scoffed, and then tore it to shreds.

“Spencer, I’ve overheard a few concerning conversations the last few days about Leland.”

He recoiled at the sudden topic change. “Have you?”

“Unfortunately so. Now, I remember how I was at his age and he reminds me of myself. Troubled. Yearning. Stepping foot onto the cusp of power, a power he isn’t sure he should be privy to.” Aunty P. locked eyes with one of her few subjects she trusted almost completely. “I don’t even wish to begin to understand the secrets he holds, nor care to learn them. Those are his and his alone… I do, however, have to ask, is he going to be a threat?”

The air went cold and the balcony dry. If Spencer was younger, he’d have answered right away. He’d have declared his son’s loyalty and delivered him to the kingdom hand over fist. But now that he was older, he saw the writing on the wall. He understood what Aunty P’s tone meant and how she expected the future to play out. Luckily he understood the game and what it meant to be a father.

The air had gone cold, yes, but it also went dry. And not even the Eldest Princess could create rain. Nor could she defend against a Legacy of Pathways without him or defend against a Harbinger without Lucia.

“Of course not,” Spencer mused casually, like the topic was deciding a place to eat dinner and not the life of his child. Any showing of defiance would only prove ineffective against Aunty P. She didn’t get to the position as Eldest Princess by being born second to the Queen.

No, she had taken it by force with a bloody dagger.

“I see, thank you Spencer,” Aunty P. said, mimicking his tone artificially. Internally she was scowling.

Spencer was trusted almost implicitly, but unfortunately for him, Aunty P. saw trust as a fake measurement of self-necessity. Everyone was trustworthy until their own goals clashed against hers.

Which was more often than not.