Dragged Into Another World By The Obsessive Villain

Elara shut the door behind her and leaned against it, taking in her surroundings. The room was grand, dressed in forest green tapestries and drapes that framed tall arched windows that sighed softly at every shift of wind. Unable to help herself, she had stolen closer to the window to look at the moonlit town of Chirondale, the southern province of Isyndor run by Grand Duke Caspian.

She rested her hand against the cool glass, and it only served to further remind her that this was real, this was happening. She was inside the world of The Day of Eternal Night. Below her, Chirondale stretched out below her, an elaborate panorama of rooftops and winding pathways teeming with life.

Moonlight poured over the village they were in, and she was reminded instantly of the sign of Aquarius and the man with his pitcher pouring water. The houses were painted in rich, earthy tones, and their shutters were flung open, warm yellow light spilling onto cobblestone paths. Figures moved along those paths, couples strolling beneath the gentle glow of magic lanterns, their laughter rising high over the music streaming from nearby taverns.

The author never truly described the Grand Duke's territory with too much descriptiveness. It was always described as "the beautiful, valleyed hills to the south" or "the endlessly prosperous land of Grand Duke Caspian Isyndor." They had never described charming villages like this one that truly brought home the fact she was in another world. 

I'm really here. I'm really inside of a book.

It was a phenomenon that should only be possible in comics and novels, in anime adaptations and fantasies. She couldn't wrap her mind around the reality that was stretched out plain as day in this large room the inn had given her, and below this window, sprawled on cobblestone pathways and written in the sky with its two moons.

"Not what you expected?" asked a voice from behind her.

She whirled around, heart racing, and her eyes met Grand Duke Caspian's. She hadn't so much as heard a whisper of sound when he'd come in, but he was standing there, leaning against the closed door as he watched her with an intensity that felt as intimidating as she'd always imagined his gaze to feel like.

In the books, he was described as a man of cold resolve. He was a man who held fast to his principles and his ideals and was unmoved and unswayed by the opinions of others. He ruled over Chirondale with an iron fist, but he was fair and just, and the people of the land trusted him to guide and protect them because he had proven himself to be a capable leader. Yet that same man was watching her with those oddly gentle eyes, his gaze sweeping over her as if she were the mystery.

She hesitated. How much should she admit, and what would be better for her to hold back? She'd never been particularly good at knowing what she should say and what she shouldn't, and her current situation was making such an already difficult decision even harder.

Finally, she said, "In the books, Chirondale isn't really described very much. It's usually described in a few off-handed lines because most of the story takes place in the capital, so seeing this..." She trailed off, turning back to gaze at the village through her window. "...seeing this make it all feel...real," she finished, looking back at him and offering a tentative smile.

Caspian nodded, and his gaze took on a look that said he was far away. He stepped away from the door and nodded toward a pair of armchairs that sat before the ornate hearth, which crackled with a low flame.

"I owe you an explanation. Come, sit."

Elara moved to the chair, and as she sat, her pulse was beating a mile a minute. Ridden with anxiety as she was, she sat perched on the edge of her seat, watching as he settled into the chair next to her. Even the way he sat screamed he was of noble blood. It was exactly as the novels described him.

Had he not been born to a common woman, the book had said, Caspian Isyndor would be king, and there was not a soul in the kingdom of Isyndor and outside its borders who didn't know that.

"I imagine you must be wondering why and how I bought you here," he began slowly. "And how I knew who you were."

Her leg was bobbing up and down with nerves, and she forced herself to stop as she swallowed and nodded. She wanted to ask him a million and one questions, but she knew it was necessary to shut up and hear him out first.

"In your world..." He struggled for a moment. "Have you--do you believe in the concept of living one's life stuck in a loop? Because I didn't until it happened to me." He looked into the flame as if he could scry into the future through it. "My life is caught in a loop. I realized it near the middle of my third life, when I was sixteen, right as I'd just been sent to the front lines near Elardwyn. 

"I can't remember big things," he continued in Elara's stunned silence. "I just remember smaller things like meeting Lyanna and being sent the frontlines and my brother and Lyanna's marriage. But whenever the loop restarts, I'm twelve years old, sitting under the tree in the gardens of the imperial palace in Isyndor, and all the memories from the life before are mostly gone, save for a few. There's only a feeling that remains as each new life begins: a feeling I have experienced something horrible, and I will again."

Elara was leaning toward him as he spoke. A loop? The author definitely didn't mention that. I would've remembered such an interesting plot point.

She put that aside for the moment, though, and asked, "How did you know that I existed, though? How did you find me? How did you know my name?"

A wry smile flickered across his handsome face, decisively bitter in the glow of the crackling flame. "The Voices," he explained. "In my third life, as soon as I became aware life was repeating itself, The Voices came. Whispers, murmurs--sometimes quiet, sometimes shouting but always around, always observing. They spoke of me and those around me. Sometimes, they scoffed and sneered and criticized. It was as if I was an actor in a play, my every move watched and criticized for the entertainment of the masses."

Elara's stomach did a flip. The readers, she realized, a chill spreading through her. He was hearing the voices of those who were reading the series.

"I thought myself mad at first. I went to every Healer in Isyndor, and they all told me I was fine, I showed no symptoms of madness. So, I went through three more cycles, growing used to the incessant pestering of those voices, growing used to their criticism. And then, on my seventh loop, there was you." She wasn't sure if she was imagining it, but it seemed as if his voice had softened some. "Against all the hate, there was one Voice that was different. There was one Voice that seemed to see right through me, that sought to understand me." He tore his gaze from the flame to look right at her. "I've lived four more loops now, listening to your voice to guide me through. You are the only one I feel I can trust."

Elara thought of all the time she'd spent reading the series in the past two years. With clarity, she could recall all the nights she'd spent reading, lingering over each page when she came to Caspian's scenes. She'd felt for him and the horrors he'd been forced to endure in a way that made her feel foolish, but she'd been unable to help it. In the quiet of her room, she'd whisper her frustrations, her words of sympathy, and when those on forums called him cold or manipulative, she was quick to defend him.

Learning he'd probably heard all that, she couldn't help but feel embarrassed.

She cleared her throat. "I...I didn't know you could hear me."

He inclined his head in a solemn nod. "I'm sure this must all be overwhelming for you. Just yesterday, you were in your world, and suddenly, you find yourself in a place that is so unfamiliar to you. I felt a similar way when I discovered this world was merely one that existed in the pages of a novel." His eyebrows pulled together. "But I called you here because I could think of no one else who I could trust. As I told you before, every time a new loop starts, I lose most of my memories. But I know..." His eyes darkened, his expression grave. "I know it ends in ruin. A terrible end awaits me, and if that happens, my people will suffer, too. And it will continue to happen again and again and again unless I can break this cycle."

He leaned toward Elara, his silver eyes smoldering like fire in their intensity. "That's where you come in. You know how this ends. You have all the pieces. You're the key." He leaned back into his chair. "I won't ask you to tell me the events as I don't know what will happen if I know the future that awaits me. There may have been a reason why my memories are erased at the beginning of every loop. It may prove to be dangerous for me to remember, and I would very much like to not spontaneously combust. Instead, I want to ask you to work with me and help me forge a better path. In return, when this is all said and done, I will help you return to your world if that's what you wish."

The two of them stared at each other in a long moment of silence. Elara's mind raced with all the new information she had learned and all that she knew from the novels she'd read. Certainly, this was an opportunity she didn't want to pass up. In the novel, every action Caspian had taken had been for the betterment of his trusted comrades and the people of Chirondale. She'd hated the ending ever since she first read it. She'd hated the idea of his hard work being handed on a silver platter to the new king and his queen, the female lead.

If she could give Caspian a different fate, if she could twist things so that he was given the ending he deserved...well, she simply couldn't resist.

Whatever had changed in her expression prompted Caspian to say, "You'll help me?" And the sound of his voice was so vulnerable that she hadn't believed it possible for the iron-willed Grand Duke.

"Yes," she replied, and the brimming determination in her voice surprised even her. "We'll give you another ending. A better one."

The Grand Duke closed his eyes, and the relief there was evident. 

"Thank you, Elara. Truly."

The fire crackled between them, casting dancing shadows that seemed to be watching them in anticipation. Outside, Chirondale, which stretched on and on with seemingly no end in sight, slept under the light of its moons, unaware that the pages of its story were about to be rewritten.