In the middle of the night, while Simel is still sleeping, I grab all of the bodies and put them in this one room, off to the side. I’m not sure exactly what kind of room it was originally, but like the front door, it was one of few rooms protected by both a door and a lock, said lock actually having a key to it. The key is small and made of what I think is brass. After locking the door, I put the key in my inventory. 

 

And then, I return to my seat next to Simel and wait for morning to arrive. 

 

I know I should probably have spent this time scouting out the house, or searching the city for more materials, or anything like that, but I just can’t bring myself to leave his side. I mean, what if he were to up and croak while I was away getting berries or whatever it is they have here? I’d never forgive myself! 

 

Crossing my arms, I lean further back in the little chair I dragged over to be by the bed. It’s not exactly as small as one of those toddler chairs, but it’s not quite normal size, either. It’s like it’s about seventy per cent the size of a normal chair. In other words, I can sit on it in relative comfort, but it still leaves my knees only slightly too bent, which is a little straining. It’s the best option I have apart from sitting on top of the bed next to him though, so this will simply have to do. 

 

Regardless, I can’t bring myself to feel fully relaxed. 

 

I let my eyes wander over the room. It’s mainly made of a semi-white sort of stone, with a coarse, rough exterior that would probably leave your feet calloused if you walked on it too much. The room itself is very sparsely decorated, with only a cupboard and nightstand for furniture. In terms of decorations, it’s even less significant, with the only real things I can notice being a small, crude tapestry on the wall adjacent to the bed. It looks almost as if a child made it, though. Then again, the little bamboo-like statue on the nightstand also seems like it was made by an unskilled maker, so it might just be that goblins aren’t very good artists. Maybe. What do I know?

 

And then my eyes fall on the big, random pile of clothes on the floor. Simel’s clothes. The ones I just haphazardly threw away. His socks are still standing tall, too.

 

…Okay, that’s just not a good thing to wake up to. I don’t know if I’ll be able to wash them, but I should at the very least be able to not leave them in the middle of the room. Leaning down, I scoop up the whole pile. Besides, if I’m just putting away a bundle of clothes, it’s not like I’ll be gone for that long, so…

 

Something slips out of the jacket before fluttering down to settle on the floor. 

 

I freeze in my step. Then, I slowly turn to look at the thing on the floor. Small. White. Rectangular. I squat down and pick it up. 

 

It’s a sealed envelope. Or, no, on closer inspection, it has been unsealed, but the little purple wax seal remains. Huh. 

 

And at this point, my whole only-having-one-arm deal becomes too much and I drop all of the clothes. Argh, darn it! 

 

I lean down to pick it all back up, but I stop mid-hunch, noticing the letter yet again. The writing on the front is in such an obnoxious cursive that I can’t make it out even with my language skill, but I can still recognise the sigil in the corner, and the title written above it. 

 

Emperor of the Sun.

 

…To heck with the laundry. 

 

Shooting a glance at Simel, I push the laundry outside the door with my foot, following suit myself. Standing just outside the door, I look down at the letter pinched between my bloodied fingers. My hand is trembling just a little. 

 

I shake my head. 

 

I shouldn’t. But… I take a deep breath.

 

—Considering that Simel can’t speak for himself to make his own case, information is of vital essence right now. I can’t say that I like prying and snooping, but… This is clearly a main quest clue, right? I can’t just not check it out. I don’t have any choice. I have to do it. Yeah. That’s why.

 

Gulping, I flip open the letter and pull out the contents. It’s only a single paper. It’s plenty crumpled, though, so it would be fair to assume that Simel has reread it multiple times. Giving another peek inside the bedroom, I ensure that Simel is still fully asleep and decidedly not dead. Since that appears to be the case, I return my attention to the letter. I unfold it.

 

It’s only a single piece of paper, well-printed and a crisp white. It’s so white it almost feels unreal. The writing on it, however, is done in not black, but a deep purple ink, one that somehow shimmers half-blue in the tawny moonlight. More importantly, though, the handwriting is atrocious. Sure, it’s legible, but every single stroke has been done with such violence that ink has splattered everywhere. I can practically taste the animosity emanating from the letter. A simple skim through its contents is enough to give that very same impression. 

 

‘Dear INGRATE

Or as your dear devotees call you, Simel the Survivor. Ask Grand Myself, it’s Simel the Coward! 

 

I have received your letter, granted by way of flapping fiend. Bravo, you rescued my son. Fifteen pardons if the following statement should be deemed incorrect—but you mean to tell this Grand Myself that my son’s wife Swee-whatsherface was turned into a beast and eaten by that spook of a Tallthing you’ve been chasing? Are you aware of how the Queen of Ret-inn will take this? It may mean war!

 

Again, as said in my previous letter, I DEMAND that you return immediately, WITH my son. My other sons are all soiled eggs. If you should ignore this letter, I will burn that half-charred lump of coals and bones you call your city to the ground. And unlike that Tallthing you speak of, I assure you my finely trained army will make sure to leave NO survivors NOR any castle to stand in its wake. There shall be no ground to rebuild upon and no soil in which to plant crops anew. 

 

This is not a threat, but rather a simple prognosis of what is to happen if you refuse to do the one thing this Grand Myself sent you out to do. 

 

If I do not see you soon you will be sorry.

Emperor of the Sun,

Blind of Seventh Heaven.’

 

I blink down at the paper in my hands. I turn it over, but there’s nothing on the back except traces of the ink bleeding through. I turn it back over and read through it one more time. And then, when I’m done again, I read it yet another time, just to really get a sense of what the heck this actually means.

 

…What the fuck?

 

No, seriously. What does this even mean? 

 

Okay, well, first up—what a douche! Who refers to himself as this grand myself? What a prick. And the way he insulted Simel, too? Threatening his city? Nuh-uh. No way. That’s just… Totally mean. I mean, he practically told him that Simel alone was to blame for some war that’s probably not even gonna happen! That’s just cruel, I’d say. 

 

And then to say that the whole business isn’t a threat? Bah! Humbug! 

 

This sun emperor fella is really grinding my gears, that’s for sure.

 

…So why the heck does Simel want us to go to the Empire? If we go there, and Simel tells them non-verbally somehow that the prince is also dead… I don’t know about you, but from what I’ve read from this emperor guy, I don’t think he’d be all that merciful. Just the opposite, as a matter of fact. 

 

So, again… Why are we heading towards a guy that absolutely wants us dead?

 

Is it… could it be…?

 

I take a glance inside the bedroom, at Simel’s sleeping silhouette in the moonlight.

 

…He knows me better than I thought, huh? 

 

A chuckle tumbles from my lips. Yeah, he’s right. If he asked me to my face I’m not sure I’d agree to such an insane plan. I mean, who would? The fact that he didn’t ask me directly tells me a fair bit about him, though. I assume his plan is just for us to get there, get in trouble, and once the emperor predictably sentences the both of us to execution without the possibility of parole, I’ll strike.

 

After all, he can’t want us dead if he’s dead, can he? 

 

It’s clever. It’s ruthless. It’s simple and it makes sense. 

 

Chop off the head of the snake and the tail dies. Kill the emperor and the soldier ants left will be too busy scrambling to survive to care about a measly little goblin and his human companion. Furthermore, if there’s already a war with some completely separate kingdom on the horizon, the lack of a competent leader will be even more damning. 

 

I really underestimated Simel. And here I was, thinking he just wanted to get to the Empire because, well… Fulfilling his obligations, or whatever. 

 

Honestly, I never thought much about it. The fact that Simel wanted a thing mattered more to me than why he might want said thing. In hindsight, that was narrow-minded of me. A friend needs to be able to give their beloved companions not just what they want, but also what they need. I’ve already been doing that, but I need to zoom out. Get a bigger perspective and all that. 

 

At this moment, I’m very lucky, because what he wants and what he needs seem to align perfectly in me killing the emperor. How simple! How easy! How quaint!

 

Finally, after so long, I am entirely certain of what the right thing to do is. 

 

And it wasn’t even all that far off from my original plan.