“Play another song, Slat, that one you know I like,” Eleal ordered Bob, while the whole family was at dinner.

  It had been nearly two months since he arrived in Velta, but time now felt just as elastic as it had back on Earth during the Apocalypse. It stretched between the end of one horror and the beginning of the next, always brief and in high demand.

  Boral’s patronage had opened the houses of the royal palace for him. After hearing him play, Eleal, the man who would someday turn into Governance, offered him a place on his staff. He had him play for the royal family while they gathered.

  Bob seized the chance to get a closer look at what the Progressors had looked like before evolving.

  Eleal was a serious, responsible ruler, a statesman, not a politician.

  Eleazar, the older son, had been groomed since childhood to replace him someday. He was the classic control freak, striving for personal perfection in everything he did, always afraid of falling short.

  Gala was the dutiful daughter, always trying to help from the background, and Eleon was a 100% black sheep. He drank excessively, told raucous jokes, and tried to get under the nerves of his elder brother as much as possible.

  Boral visited often and was always warmly welcomed. Everyone trusted him. Bob had suspected for some time that Boral's public persona was a facade—a trick to make people believe he was something different from the psychopathic monster who had attacked Belona.

  Eventually, Bob concluded that Boral was not a fraud. Whatever had transformed him into a monster, he had originally been a decent human being.

  Even Andara came around from time to time. She was a shy, demure woman with a remarkable intellect who had advanced through the ranks of meritocracy solely on the basis of her talent.

  The trappings were those of a family, doing family things, but the resemblances ended there. Bob remembered the first days of the Earth Apocalypse, when the radio spewed endless horror stories. Royal conversation was much the same.

  “We must close the city, Father, the fever has already manifested within it. People must be quarantined and protected,” Eleazar began.

  “With all due respect, your Majesty, I am not sure that is the wisest route to take,” the shy Andara surprisingly interrupted. “The fever is not the only force at work. We are fairly sure the dungeons are not connected to it. Many of my colleagues think that the fever is nature’s way of giving us a chance to survive.”

  “By turning us into monsters? What kind of help is that?” shouted Eleazar.

  “The cities where the fever ran unchecked have survived the dungeons far better than those that sealed themselves,” Andara replied.

  “That is not speculation.”

  “It is fact.”

  Then everything devolved once again into a shouting match, till Eleal lost his patience and sent everyone packing.

  “Not you, Slat,” Eleal told Bob, using the nickname he had chosen for himself when entering the employ of the royal house, “you stay. I need some more music to soothe my nerves.”

  When everyone left the room, Eleal turned towards Bob.

  “It was you, wasn't it? You are the Skillmaster,” said Eleal, holding in one hand the letter written by his future self.

  After two months in the palace, Bob had managed to leave it in a place where he knew Eleal would discover it.

  “I am, your Majesty,” Bob admitted.

  “I would see your true face,” Eleal commanded. Bob’s face shifted, dropping the visage he had assumed to avoid drawing attention among the Imperials. Besides, he could not risk being recognized by some of them in the future.

  “I wanted to believe this was one of Eleon’s foolish pranks,” Eleal sighed, “but down deep, I knew it wasn’t. I wrote this letter. Not the actual me, of course, but one much more evolved, with intellectual powers far beyond my reach.”

  “What now?” Bob asked quietly.

  Eleal sighed again.“Now I have to lie to my people, announcing I have developed prophetic powers. I will do so by making some silly predictions that will become true. Then I will create the Edicts of Governance, ordering all of them to become infected with the fever and evolve, and forbidding them from focusing on a single Intent when doing so, to preserve the sanctity of their minds.”

  “But it will not work, will it?” Eleal asked Bob sadly. He did not expect an answer. He knew Bob could not supply too much information, or he could break causality.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “I have been a ruler for twenty years, Skillmaster. I know human nature. As soon as someone discovers that getting more than one Intent dilutes their powers, I will be left with a nation of monsters to rule,” Eleal said sadly.

  “How much time have you left?” Eleal asked, abruptly changing the subject.

  “Governance, that is, your future self, told me the window of causality would close if I did not find the Scrollbearer within eight months. That was seven months ago,” Bob answered.

  “I know you are a competent agent. You can develop skills as you need them. How hard could this task be for you?” Eleal drank liquor from a goblet as he asked this. Bob knew he only did that when he was extremely worried.

  “I don’t know, your Majesty. I have asked myself that same question. I have a magical Truthfinding skill, but it has not given me a single clue so far. Could someone be magically shielding the tool from my powers?” Bob wondered. “That does not seem possible, as there is not a single Progressor within the palace.”

  “I am afraid that is no longer true. Andara infected herself two weeks ago. She has carefully hidden her mutations so far,” Eleal told him.

  “Why would she do that?” asked Bob.

  “Isn’t it obvious? She wants to understand. She has been a scientist all her life. Progression is a tool for her to achieve total knowledge. Haven’t you noticed how she has shifted her stance on the matter?” Eleal answered.

  “I am wholly sure she will not obey my Edicts when I make them public. She will be the first of many. Boral will be the second,” he added.

  Bob was impressed. Eleal’s mind was a thing of wonder, even when unevolved.

  “Boral is the Duke of Berala, at the northern gulf of the Red Sea. Monster attacks have heavily hit it,” Eleal explained. “He went there to coordinate the defense. I am pretty sure he was already infected when I last talked to him. Do you know what he told me? He told me that we must endure at all costs.”

  Bob felt a chill run down his spine. That did sound like the Boral he knew. He would have never guessed that the first act that drove him down his dark path would be one of heroism.

  “And now I have to tell my own family they must get this fever too. And my citizens. We are under attack from these dungeon monstrosities, and they will not survive without evolving.

  And I will set strict rules on how evolution will proceed, rules that I will not follow- I will get a single Intent, Governing, for I will need all the power I can get my hands on to make this work. And it will not matter, for I will be a Prophet, mysterious and unassailable, and standard rules will not apply to me.” Bitterness seeped into his voice.

  “That is enough complaining,” Eleal said, suddenly changing tone. “Tell me all you know about this Scrollbearer of yours.”

  “As far as I know, it is a member of an insectoid species, coming from the same world I got my powers from. I think he is an original Pantean.”

  “That means he will have access to the three original modules, Skills, Stats, and Spawn,” interrupted Eleal.

  “Yes, but unlike other Panteans, he does not have a Nerf module,” Bob explained. “Governance clearly insisted on that.”

  “That is sobering,” Eleal said, filling a new glass.

  “Exactly. If he has access to all our powers, without nerfing them, he must be a mighty creature. Governance also implied that this being has access to at least one seventh-rank perk. I am working with the hypothesis that it used this perk to wrench its own nerf module, causing itself some mental damage in the process,” Bob continued.

  “Your hypothesis sounds solid,” Eleal agreed. “That would explain its erratic conduct. But what does Governance want it for? Could there be some chance of healing his mind? That would certainly turn things around.”

  “He made it sound exactly the opposite. Not gaining the help of this creature will bring about a terrible catastrophe. He is not an option; he is a necessity,” Bob answered.

  “I am now aware of the matter, and the whole of the Empire’s resources are at your disposal. What do you need? Eleal watched Bob intently as he played. The music had not stopped once during this exchange, even though Bob was no longer blowing the flutes. The skillmaster was indeed a man of many talents.

  “As a matter of fact, I was hoping Your Majesty could provide some information. Your future self was heavily involved with this creature,” Bob answered.

  Eleal laughed. “You think my future self has already given me all the information and I am withholding it from you,” he stated.

  “Do you know what was inside the envelope you gave me?” he asked Bob.

  “A note of paper with instructions and another envelope. There is some information in the note, not much, but there are also specific instructions not to open the envelope until a specific circumstance has happened.”

  “And inside the envelope, I am pretty sure there is another one. My future self has left a trail of scraps of information to guide my conduct. He may be manipulating you, but he is also doing the same to me.”

  “Let me guess,” Bob added, smiling ruefully, “you will break the chains of causality if you do not do exactly as you are told.”

  “My future self is a conniving bastard,” Eleal smiled. “Gods, how I hate myself,” both men laughed.

  “Slat, believe me when I say everything you are telling me is new to me. I have never heard of Pantea, nerf modules, the Compendium, or the Scrollbearer before. I know all the ins and outs of the Empire, and what you are talking about is not common knowledge,” Eleal answered.

  “We can safely assume that if this creature is among us, someone has hidden it, someone powerful with the means to shelter it from the magical scrying you use.”

  “If your theories are true, and this creature can pluck nerf modules out of others, it is the most powerful weapon in the universe. And if not finding it will bring doom upon us, we must assume that weapon is going to be used against us sooner or later,” Eleal concluded.

  “Find it, Slat, do whatever you must do. I will not have such a threat pending upon us,” Eleal finished.

  “From now on, you are no longer my personal musician. I am making you chamberlain of the court. That will give you unrestricted access to the palace. Find that creature, Slat. Do not let all this be in vain,” Eleal finished.

  “If you don’t mind me asking,” Bob said cautiously, “how is Your Majesty going to explain elevating a street musician to the third-highest-ranked position in court?”

  “How would I?” answered Eleal, smiling for the first time in many days. “I will say it was foretold, of course.”