CHAPTER ELEVEN

Chosen Ones

---

 

A long moment of awkward silence passed between them while the three people eyed each other.

The older-looking naked man was a head shorter than the seventh prince. He was slim, but not physically fit like Bram was. His skin was a shade darker than Bram’s bronze complexion. Scruffy dark hair framed a round face whose slanted eyes and sharp features reminded Bram of the native-born people of the Hilltop Kingdom of Yamadai, the northernmost kingdom of the imperium.

Bram had many questions for their guest, though it wasn’t the seventh prince who broke the awkward silence between them.

“Y-Yōkai!” the slanted-eyed man pointed a quivering finger at Rowan who sat cross-legged in the air. “Yōkai!”

Bram didn’t know this alien word, but the fear apparent in their guest’s face gave him an inkling of its meaning.

“Calm yourself, Friend,” he urged.

The seventh prince placed himself between the slanted-eyed man and the trickster he seemed so frightened of as if he could see something other than the young maiden she appeared to be.

Bram raised his hands, palms forward, in what he hoped was a universal symbol of peace. “We’re not your enemies.”

“Yō—”

Confusion flitted across the slanted-eyed man’s face.

“—B-Bishōnen?!”

There was a slight redness in the slanted-eyed man’s tan-skinned cheeks, and he calmed down for just a moment. Then he saw Rowan looking at him from behind Bram’s shoulder, and the slanted-eyed man was back to his hysterics.

“Yōkai!”

“Enough,” Rowan hissed.

The wind howled, and then she was suddenly standing before the slanted-eyed man as if conjured by the very air. Her invasion of his personal space seemed only to trigger him further though. Only, before he could peel away from her, Rowan’s hand shot out, her fingers latching onto the slanted-eyed man’s brow.

“Tis time for us to speak like civilized folk,” she insisted.

“Rowan,” Bram stepped forward, “wait—”

Too late.

A spark of crimson flashed around Rowan’s fingers to spread out onto the slanted-eyed man’s brow like lightning racing across his flesh. He screamed, his eyes rolling inward, and then he crumpled to the floor.

“What did you do?” Bram asked as he unclasped his cloak and placed it over the unconscious man’s naked body.

“I gave him the Gift of Tongues,” Rowan answered.

One of Bram’s eyebrows twitched upward. “He’ll be able to understand us?”

“As if he’d been speaking ‘Gaul’ his whole life,” she replied.

“Interesting…” Bram’s face turned contemplative. “Can you weave this into the summoning ritual from the beginning?”

“Tis possible,” Rowan answered after a while, “with the help of the Loom…assuming it can be implanted into an otherworlder’s soul at the moment of their arrival.”

“We should try it with the next otherworlder,” Bram insisted.

Seconds ticked by while they waited for him to wake, but the slanted-eyed man remained unmoving. His chest rose and fell in erratic intervals, so at least they knew he was still alive even though he was comatose on the ground.

Bram sighed. “There’s been too much waiting in this stage of the undertaking…”

“Now you sound like a prince,” Rowan giggled. Then, in a softer tone, she added, “Patience. It takes time for the seeds we plant to bloom.”

It wasn’t long after these words spilled from Rowan’s lips when the slanted-eyed man sat up suddenly. He was wide-eyed and screaming. Only, this time, both Bram and Rowan could understand his words.

“M-Monster!”

He wrapped Bram’s cloak around himself as if the fabric could protect his naked flesh from his kidnappers’ gazes.

“I believe he’s referring to you,” Bram said.

“He’s quite rude,” Rowan replied.

More confusion flitted across the slanted-eyed man’s face.

Bram couldn’t help sympathizing with him. After all, the two beings who’d abducted him from his world were now speaking in a language that he could understand.

Nervously, the slanted-eyed man glanced up—and they looked down at him with amusement and curiosity clear on their faces.

“Beauty and…the beast…?” he wondered aloud.

“I don’t believe I’m the beast in this scenario,” Bram said confidently.

Though in his mind, the seventh prince couldn’t understand how anyone could look upon his collaborator and think her anything but lovely. Indeed, everyone they’ve come across since their first meeting had been enchanted by Rowan’s wiles, Bram included.

Rowan’s smile twitched. “Everyone is entitled to their own preferences, I suppose…”

The slanted-eyed man seemed to understand what she’d meant, and he vehemently shook his head.

“I-I don’t swing that way,” he protested. “I just…”

Both observers raised an eyebrow, prompting the slanted-eyed man to explain further.

“In my culture, a woman with a perfect face like yours”—his gaze drifted nervously toward Rowan—“is never human. You are either an incarnation of a goddess or…”

“A beast veiled in man’s perception of beauty?” Bram supplied.

Rowan elbowed him on the shoulder.

The slanted-eyed man blushed but said nothing else.

“You’re right…I’m not human,” Rowan revealed in a nonchalant tone. “Though there’s no need to be frightened of me unless you’re a god of Aarde or one of their fanatical followers.”

The slanted-eyed man frowned. “A-Aarde…?”

“Tis a world that is twisted, broken at the whim of those who lord over it.” Rowan’s voice was filled with condemnation. “It needs…correction. This is why we’ve summoned you here.”

Bram frowned.

As a prince of the Atlan Imperium, he had lived a life of opulence with few hardships. Indeed, if it wasn’t for his lack of talent with sorcery, Bram wouldn’t know the meaning of struggle and strife. But perhaps because of his body’s ill-fated condition and the misfortunes of the past few days, the seventh prince couldn’t disagree with Rowan’s assessment of a broken world. On a lesser scale, the imperium had a society that needed altering.

“Ee~~eh, you summoned me?”

The slanted-eyed man’s voice drew Bram out of his musings.

“Yes,” Rowan answered. “We require your talents, Hajime.”

Hajime’s eyes widened slightly at hearing his name on her lips. “You know me?”

“Of course.” Rowan’s face turned contemplative for a moment. “Hajime Hideo Miyamoto, lead game designer for a prestigious gaming studio, lauded by your peers and patrons as a pioneer in…”

Bram noticed the soft glow of her crimson irises. They were a telltale sign of magic at work. He assumed this meant the trickster was reading Hajime’s mind or something equally invasive but in so subtle a manner that the otherworlder didn’t notice.

“…virtual reality role-playing games,” Rowan finished.

“Sugoi,” Hajime whispered.

Bram’s brow creased when he noticed that even the ‘Gift of Tongues’ couldn’t completely dissolve a person’s mannerisms.

“As I’ve said, we require your expertise.” Rowan offered Hajime a slender hand. “Will you help us change the world?”

Bram watched the confusion wash away from Hajime’s expression, although the otherworlder’s hand still shook slightly when he accepted Rowan’s hand.

Once Hajime was back on his feet, introductions were given, with the otherworlder seemingly amazed by the people he was meeting for the first time. He even bowed his head once he learned of Bram’s status as a royal.

“There’s no need for that,” Bram insisted.

“O-okay, but I don’t know how I can help you…” Hajime admitted. “I only know how to make games…I am not a yūsha.”

His brow creased slightly.

“…a hero,” he translated.

“Though we do need heroes,” Bram conceded, “the task we have for you is far more vital…”

A long conversation ensued where they explained their great undertaking to the otherworlder. By the end of it, Bram, Rowan, and Hajime were seated in a circle by a corner of the chamber where the sunstone’s light flared brightest. A flask of hot elderberry tea with three wooden cups and plates of cheese, dried jerky, and fruit lay between them. These were among the equipment Bram had packed for their climb, which also included the loose shirt and trousers he’d given Hajime.

“More tea?” Bram asked.

He noticed that the otherworlder was thoroughly enjoying the sweet taste of elderberry.

“Hai.” Hajime respectfully offered his cup forward.

Bram poured him tea while asking, “So, do you have any questions for us?”

“Thank you.” With his cup filled, Hajime took it back. “And yes… To clarify, I’m not stuck here on…Aarde?”

Rowan shook her head. “So long as your body remains intact in your world, your soul will return to it.”

“And you’ll be able to go home to…Japan,” Bram reiterated. “This is the empire you’re from?”

Hajime nodded. “But it’s not like yours.”

“How so?” Bram asked.

“We have an emperor,” Hajime took a sip of his tea, “but our country is democratic…governed by elected officials.”

“Elected officials,” Bram repeated, his brow furrowing. “Your emperor shares power with…commoners?”

“The emperor is a symbol of Japan. He does not govern us. That’s the job of our ministers,” Hajime replied. Then he added, “Plus, I live in New York, which is part of America, also a country without nobles.”

“Fascinating,” Bram whispered.

Clearly, there were a great deal of differences between the two worlds apart from the direction of their technology.

“And there’s truly no magic on…Earth?” Rowan asked.

“Magic is fantasy,” Hajime replied.

He gazed at the summoning circle that had plucked his soul from his world, with his eyes drifting over to the monstrous corpse lying a few feet away.

“All this is fantasy to me…” He pressed a finger on the cheek of the meat suit his soul wore. “Things we read about in books and manga…”

“Or watch in cinema?” Bram supplied.

Hajime nodded. “Hai.”

“If magic was not used to build your glass towers,” one of Rowan’s eyebrows tilted upward, “then what method did your people employ to become an advanced society?”

“Um,” Hajime scratched the stubble on his newly made chin, “we have science…and with science, we develop technology.”

Hajime explained how his people studied the physical and natural world through observation and experimentation—up to this, science seemed very much like sorcery. But where science tested theories against the evidence through repetitive experimentation and then conceived new knowledge and machinery from their discoveries, sorcery used the magical energies prevailing in Aarde’s nature to bypass the evidence and create a magical solution that would satisfy the will of the caster. At least that’s how Bram remembered it when he’d first been taught about the sorcerous arts.

Rowan echoed this belief when she began explaining sorcery to Hajime.

“The sorcery of Aarde is older than even the beginning of man’s civilization.” She drew her hands together as if in prayer. “Tis the practice of harnessing the magical energy inside of us and all around us to express our desire to reshape reality.”

As her hands separated, she drew a circle with her fingers, and the air of the chamber had become so dense with magical energy born from the recent summoning that a shape formed of red sparks appeared floating between her and Hajime. It was a large spiral of rotational symmetry.

“Sugoi…” Hajime whispered.

“We use sorcery to cast spells”—Rowan moved her hands in a clockwise motion to create a second spiral emanating from the same center as the first spiral but positioned below and to the right of it—“that manifest objects, harness elemental power, alter our bodily constitutions, or build ungodly wonders.”

Rowan moved her hands in a counterclockwise direction, creating a third spiral that also began from the same common center as the other two but was positioned on the opposite side of the second spiral.

Bram recognized the icon the trickster had formed in the air. It was a triskelion, a powerful symbol of sorcery that signified the profound concept of life, death, and rebirth.

“There are some forms of sorcery, however, which cannot be weaved into being without a design to draw inspiration from.” As she said this, Rowan’s gaze drifted toward Bram. “Sorcery born exclusively to those rare beings whose fates flow in opposition to the will of the world.”

Realizing her intention, Bram cut his palm with the chipped edge of his sword’s broken blade so that a line of blood would leak out of the wound.

“For the blood is the life,” he whispered.

Bram pressed his bloody palm to the heart of the triskelion. As a result, the floating symbol began to shake violently, with sparks flying off it.

“This is how we make magic”—Rowan slapped her palm against the floating triskelion right on the opposite side of where Bram’s hand touched it, causing even more sparks to fly off the glowing symbol—“to change the world!”

Those same fiery sparks spread out toward Hajime, enveloping him in their warm embrace while being absorbed into his skin.

“Wh-What is hap—”

‘Ping!’

Then they all saw the ghostly blue window that appeared before the otherworlder.

 

 

Hajime’s eyes widened with recognition and surprise. “Ee~~eh?!”

 

 

A smaller window appeared on top of the first.

 

 

At that moment, all nervousness vanished from Hajime’s expression as if his first meeting with the Loom enraptured him.

 

 

 

“Arienai…” Hajime whispered.

 

 

While Hajime’s jaw dropped from seeing his status window coming to life, Bram leaned in to whisper into Rowan’s ear. “How did you do it?”

“I established a connection between the Loom and Hajime’s soul using the information in your blood and a triskelion’s symbolic power to become a bridge between the earthly and celestial realms,” Rowan explained.

Bram had heard of this rare form of magic before. To represent a caster’s desired outcome through the creation of a telesmatic force. This was the sorcerous art of Sigilry.

“So, you translated a triskelion’s meaning of connection with the infinite to forge a magical connection between Hajime and the system, weaving its sorcery into the fabric of his soul,” Bram deduced.

“There is great power in symbols, My Prince,” Rowan lectured. “Never forget this.”

In front of Bram, a new notification appeared.

 

 

Finally, an explanation for how he could grow his job’s talents.

“We may need to simplify the process of bestowing the Loom onto others,” Bram thought aloud.

Meeting every single otherworlder they summon and then gifting them the Loom through this ceremony seemed inefficient to him.

“We can combine the gifting of the Loom with the summoning ritual and the signing of the contract,” Rowan answered. “Though this will require adding a triskelion and transference ceremony into the formula of my summoning circle.”

Noticing Rowan’s frown, Bram asked, “Is there a disadvantage to this?”

“There is a delicate balance in formulating magic circles. Too many conditions may create undesired variables during the process of summoning,” she explained.

“Too many cooks spoil the broth then,” Bram deduced.

“You need not worry. With a bit of experimentation, I will manage,” Rowan promised.

“It’s like being in a game,” Hajime announced. The otherworlder was grinning from ear to ear as his gaze drifted away from his status screen to home in on Bram and Rowan. “Like I’m a chosen one.”

His cheeks flared immediately afterward as if he was embarrassed by what he’d just said out loud.

“You are a chosen one.” Seeing Hajime’s excitement, Bram couldn’t help but feel hopeful. “Do you think others from your world will be interested in our great undertaking?”

“Many dream of something like this happening to them,” Hajime answered. “We call it being isekai’d — to become protagonists in another world!”

“And that’s what we want your people to be!” Bram couldn’t help but be infected by Hajime’s excitement, though his brow creased a moment later. “Still, to protect your people’s minds from the harsh realities of another world, they must view their time on Aarde as if it weren’t real.”

“You want to trick them into thinking they’re playing a game,” Hajime repeated Bram’s earlier pitch.

“It would be a far more enjoyable experience than the truth.” As he said this, Bram offered Hajime his hand. “We would like your help in making it happen.”

“I…” Hajime’s gaze drifted to the floating blue window between him and Bram. “Yes. I will help.”

He shook Bram’s hand, and the bargain between them was sealed.

“But to build the greatest game ever built…” In his mind, Hajime recalled a few familiar faces. “…We will need more help…and I know who to call.”

 

---

Notes:

1. Yōkai - can be translated into spirit or monster

2. Bishōnen - handsome young man, hot guy, etc...

3. Arienai - No way... a saying to express one's disbelief.

4. In case you forgot, the western continent's name is Gaullia, with the common tongue being Gaul.