Memoirs of Your Local Small-time Villainess

Scarlett stepped towards the armillary sphere, her fingers momentarily hovering above its cool, metallic surface. Then, with a deliberate touch, she activated it. The artifact hummed in response, but instead of returning to Mistress’ hidden underground chamber, she allowed her consciousness to slip outward. Her awareness expanded, extending from the confines of the Imperial Advisor’s office.

Soon, the halls of Dawnlight Palace unfolded beneath her mental gaze. Servants hurried along the corridors, their footfalls soundless in her mind’s eye, while stoic Palace Guards stood at attention, their armor gleaming in the warm light of various enchanted chandeliers. In the banquet hall, the nobles and dignitaries mingled, and Scarlett spotted more than one familiar face. She lingered there for a moment, confirming she still had some time before the conclave reconvened.

Satisfied, Scarlett narrowed her focus. She knew roughly where to search.

Her consciousness skimmed through the palace, slipping past bustling chambers and shadowed alcoves until she found a place that seemed to match her goal — a secluded room devoid of both guards or other prying eyes. A quick scan confirmed there was no one around, and with another activation of the armillary sphere, her surroundings shimmered and transformed.

Scarlett found herself in a spacious, dimly lit chamber, its walls lined with bookshelves crammed with various tomes and works. A large, arched window on the far wall revealed a sweeping view of the frozen Rellaria Lake, its silvery-white expanse gleaming beneath the moonlit sky. Below the window, an ornate canopy bed rested, its frame carved from a dark, burnished wood. Plush quilts and silk pillows were piled high atop the mattress to form a tiny mound of luxurious comfort.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Scarlett carefully surveyed the room, triple-checking that she was alone. The armillary sphere in Mistress’ office was a Zuverian artifact, and courtesy of Thainnith’s legacy, Scarlett knew it had more functions than simply connecting the woman’s underground chamber to Dawnlight Palace.

For one, it possessed capabilities similar to the spell Aetheric Repatriate, which Dean Godwin had once used to teleport Scarlett to the Zuverian ruins on the Resting Eye. Unlike Godwin’s spell, which required a physical focus to trigger the return, Scarlett could feel a tether still linking her to the armillary sphere in Mistress’ office. That should allow her to return when she was finished here.

Scarlett first turned her attention to the room’s many bookshelves. The sheer quantity of texts suggested the occupant was an avid reader. It was almost a small library in its own right. She moved towards the nearest shelf, squinting slightly as she examined the titles. There were volumes on a vast array of topics, including military strategy, statecraft, economics, history, and more, each meticulously organised by subject and author. Scarlett also found several works on the Zuver in their own dedicated section, from modern imperial treatises to ancient tomes written in the Zuverian script.

She ran her fingers over the spines, making a mental note of certain titles, searching for anything that seemed out of place or particularly noteworthy. If she had the time, she wouldn’t have minded inspecting each and every single one in detail.

Eventually, she turned to the two large desks near the entrance. One held various writing implements and the like, while the other was cluttered with open books, maps, and notes, as well as what appeared to be partially translated Zuverian texts. Scarlett conjured a small flame above her hand, illuminating the surface.

Her eyes roamed over the documents. She imagined that the imperial family’s own investigators had already combed through this room, but they wouldn’t have known exactly what to look for. While Scarlett wasn’t necessarily sure she did either, her game knowledge did give her a distinct advantage. After all, these were the private quarters of the first imperial princess. The same place where the young woman would have conducted much of her research prior to her ‘disappearance’.

There were still aspects of the first princess’ vanishing that troubled Scarlett. Questions that couldn’t be answered by her game knowledge alone. Chief among these was, of course, the possibility that the princess was collaborating with another player-like entity, one that didn’t quite follow the original game narrative. Scarlett had long suspected this, but her only real evidence still came from her discoveries in the Zuverian ruins on the Resting Eye.

Carefully, she began sifting through the papers before her. She recognised a few of the Zuverian works, noting that there were several half-written accounts that included maps and observations from various regions of the empire that housed Zuverian ruins — both those Scarlett knew to be discovered and undiscovered. However, nothing seemed to indicate the princess’ immediate destination or intentions.

Then again, that wasn’t really what Scarlett was interested in.

She turned her attention to the desk drawers, sliding them open one by one, searching their contents for something—anything—that might offer clues about this potential player that the princess might have gotten involved with. The first contained only mundane items—stationery, wax seals, and a few scattered coins. The second held similar tools and papers. But as she opened the third drawer, her hand paused.

A slight frown formed on her brow.

Nestled inside was an emerald-green, leather-bound book with gilded edges and elegant script, adorned with stylised illustrations of castles, dragons, and heroes.

Was it a compendium of folklore or fairy tales of some kind? It seemed wildly out of place among the scholarly texts and administrative tomes that filled the room.

At first glance, it didn’t appear to hold any particular significance.

Curious, Scarlett lifted the book from the drawer, her fingers tracing the embossed patterns on the cover before carefully opening it to the first page. She turned to the next, and the next after that, and gradually, her eyes widened as she absorbed the contents.

To a casual observer, the book might have seemed innocuous. The opening illustration portrayed a wistful princess gazing up at a star-strewn sky from her castle balcony, rendered with exquisite detail. Subsequent pages unfolded into a series of intricate vignettes, chronicling the princess’ journey as she left her sheltered existence to embark on a grand adventure. Alongside a small band of compatriots, she battled fearsome monsters and overcame daunting obstacles on what seemed to be a quest to save the world.

On the surface, it really wasn’t anything more than a typical fairy tale — a fanciful narrative of heroism and adventure that could easily be commonplace in this world. But as Scarlett studied the illustrations, a chill coursed down her spine.

The cast of characters depicted in them was disturbingly familiar.

A majestic white-furred wolf, its form wreathed in swirling winds and crackling energy. An eclectic bard with flowing locks, whose very shadow seemed to hint at hidden depths and lurking terrors. A knightly figure clad in a cerulean cape, wielding a sword of shimmering blue light. A wizened sage with a gangly frame and perceptive eyes. A diminutive figure cloaked entirely in dark clothes and a concealing hood, revealing only a pair of creeping, emerald eyes. And finally, a nondescript hero whose appearance subtly shifted from scene to scene, valiantly leading the princess and the others through each trial.

Scarlett spent several minutes poring over the images, uncertain whether to trust her own eyes. The first two characters were suspicious enough, but the others were unmistakable. Despite their stylised and somewhat ambiguous renderings, they perfectly resembled the companions from the game she knew so well.

The wolf was undoubtedly Fynn, portrayed in an abstract, yet pointedly accurate manner. The bard had to be Rosa, hinting both at the woman’s own tormented past and the ever-present specter of Anguish. The knight in the cerulean cape mirrored a loyal companion players could recruit later in the game, while the wizened ‘sage’ bore a striking resemblance to another potential ally. If you included the princess character, the book illustrated all five of the possible ‘good’ companions from the game. The remaining two characters matched the descriptions of an extra companion and what was—presumably—the ‘hero’ or player character themselves.

This couldn’t possibly be a coincidence.

The question was, why did the first imperial princess have this book in her room? And perhaps more importantly, why did it exist at all? Who had created it? The book seemed almost tailored specifically for the first princess, focusing only on the ‘good’ companions. But for what reason?

Mind racing with possibilities, Scarlett continued flipping through the pages, hoping to find some answers without success. None of the illustrations even depicted any specific situations or events that she recognised from the game; rather, they were more like general scenes from a children’s picture book. It was only the characters that were familiar. She scoured the cover and each page for any mention of an author or artist, but even that was missing.

Had this book existed in the game as well? She doubted it had, or at the very least, the first princess hadn’t owned or been aware of it. If Scarlett had to guess, whoever created it either had insight into the ‘fate’ guiding this world or was intimately familiar with the game’s setting like she was.

She wasn’t sure which scenario was more plausible. From what she’d learned, reading and understanding fate was both incredibly rare and seldom precise. It seemed odd that someone with that ability would go to the trouble of creating a story like this one based solely on those visions. Then again, it was equally strange for someone familiar with the game to do so.

But even putting aside the book’s origins, what did its presence in the first princess’ quarters mean? Did this imply that the princess knew there was a predestined path for this world? And that she herself might play a crucial role in that?

While the picture book alone didn’t explicitly identify the princess character as the first princess, why would she have it if she didn’t somehow suspect its significance?

Scarlett didn’t know what to make of it. In a way, this did explain some things, if one could overlook the mountain of questions the book’s existence posed. In the game, the first princess abandoned her royal duties to join the player’s party for a mix of reasons — her stifled life as a princess, and her realisation of the hidden threats resurfacing that needed to be investigated. Still, her decision to leave had always seemed a little odd to Scarlett. The princess was in a position to enact change by leveraging her authority, and she was respected by many despite her young age, so her abrupt departure felt both impulsive and immature.

Scarlett had accepted it in the game, even if it had perplexed her. The first princess she knew was generally a logical, level-headed character, even when emotional — but games were games. In this world, Scarlett had initially assumed the situation would be no different.

But after hearing about the princess’ disappearance, she had begun entertaining the possibility that other factors were at play, even though she’d had no concrete evidence of what those might be. Perhaps this book in her hand was a piece of that puzzle.

She studied the pages longer, considering their implications. First of all, she needed to figure out where it came from. That might give her insight into the princess’ actions and, hopefully, shed some light on this potential other player—or other forces—interfering with this world’s narrative.

But how should she go about finding out more information about the book? Depending on how rare it was, there might not be much available outside of the princess herself, and asking her wasn’t exactly an option. Nor was questioning any of the palace staff close to the princess.

Maybe Beldon was her best bet. She wasn’t sure if Mirage specialised in this type of investigation, but it would be the best way to discreetly track down the book’s source. If she was lucky, it might not even be that complex of a task. Otherwise, she could always—

Scarlett tensed as she heard the soft rustle of fabric behind her. She spun around, her gaze darting to the large bed at the far end of the room, dimly lit by the moonlight filtering through the window.

She narrowed her eyes. There was nothing there.

For a moment, she wondered if she’d imagined it. Then, there was a faint movement. Among the plush pillows and luxurious quilts on the bed, a pair of sleepy eyes—framed by stray gold locks glinting in the moonlight—blinked owlishly at Scarlett.

Scarlett stared, caught off guard. The urgent thought that she needed to leave now only registered after a long second had passed. But before she could move, the pillows stirred, and the bed’s occupant rose slightly. A delicate hand emerged to rub at tired eyes, as the covers slipped down to reveal a young girl in elegant nightclothes, her golden hair falling in disarray over her shoulders.

The girl’s eyes, still clouded with sleep, focused on Scarlett. As comprehension slowly dawned in those eyes, Scarlett realised who this girl was.

She was face to face with none other than the second imperial princess.