‘Um like that? No not there… maybe if I bend here and do this then it’ll work?’ Standing in front of the mirror in my medical room, I was busy trying to get any reaction from The Source.

The past two days had gone in a snap as I focused my alone time feeling the Source as much as possible. It… was not going easy.

Despite knowing exactly what it looked like and where it was at all the time, I was still nowhere near getting a feel for it as the guy said.

But I was getting somewhere, I think. I had started feeling this sense of direction.

I had this faint sensation of where the sun would be all the time, and extrapolating others was only a matter of common sense from there.

I was sooo excited at this discovery that I almost guffawed like a villain. I am a legit compass. Just how cool was that!

‘Nice to meet you, I’m the portable compass you ordered. I function on some love and food.’ I said standing in front of the mirror with my hand up for a shake.

That was a few hours ago and since then I had felt embarrassed enough to delete that memory. For forever if possible.

And I was back to making hand signs and ritual poses in front of the mirror like the devotee I am. I might have felt more embarrassed if I had any left to give.

Knock knock

“May I come in sir?” called out the doctor.

Feeling a little disappointed at this interruption, I eventually forced it down and with a sigh said, “Please do come in, doc.”

Click “Ah I can see you are already up and walking around. That’s good!” He exclaimed as he walked in, wearing his red and bright blue dashiki inside. Red and blue apparently being colors of war and peace respectively.

He did not look like a doctor.

“I’ve been fit since yesterday doc, thank you for noticing today.”

“Ah yes you were, but of course, it’s my duty to make sure you really were. I would not wanna cut down on any precautions regarding an Artist prince.”

“Sure doc, if you say so. Do you think I could be discharged now?”

“Yes yes, that’s what I came here today for. Your elder brother has sent you an entourage to take you away, sir.”

“Hmm, thank you for your care doc. I’ll remember to reward you appropriately for it.” I said as I walked towards the door.

“I appreciate the gesture, Sir.” He said with a small bow as I walked out.

I was not surprised to find at least 15 guards, most of whom were with me earlier, as well as 2 people with no tiaras, indicating their Artistry stature. I too have removed mine.

‘A little extra fanfare than I was expecting. Such a sweet brother I have, don’t I?’ But of course, I should’ve expected it. Of course he’d wanna show off his strength. Hahh.

‘One doesn’t reject the protection power brings, But one shouldn’t just trust the strength.’ I wondered as I greeted the two Artists here for me with a handshake.

“Nice to meet you both and thank you for coming here on such short notice.”

“It was meant to be young man. We are powerless against the force striking us, driving us towards you. After all, we may be protection today, but we might be prey tomorrow.” The older of the two said.

‘Umm.. okay? Wait, what just happened? Did I do something?’ I doubted as I saw the old man tracing his nose with his fingers in a weird form of prayer. At least I assumed it was a prayer.

“Yes yes, very aptly put there my friend. A hunter today and yet a slime tomorrow. Powerless and susceptible to change so very easily. Oh how lovely life really is when you’re not so young.” the other guy, barely younger, followed the other guy.

‘!!! Can someone really explain what is going on here?!!’ I exclaimed inside, my confusion skyrocketing as I looked at this duo dumbstruck.

Unsure whether to ignore or follow along and add something to it, I was saved by the most generous knight of the century, “Master Preston and Master Ranx, if you may allow, should I encourage leaving the small talks for later?”

“Ah!” As if out of a deep meditation, Master Preston (the older one) jumped in place as he exclaimed, “Yes yes of course, small talks are the devil’s tongue. Always the longest and merriest. Let’s go!”

And so with a tap to his partner who shrugged for some reason(!! Someone save me!!), he flicked his hand and a fountain of cyan emerged from the ground engulfing our party.

Before I could even get my breath together, the other guy waved his hand, and with another wave of increasing nausea appeared 15 masquerade masks, covering their faces yet covered by what looked like a melted candle. Or a feather.

“Hold on tight young one, for toughness is merely the construct of your stomach and youth and the journey shall be short as long as you don’t lose yours.” The other guy said.

“Los-lose what? My stomach or-r my youth!?” I barely got out. But I was curious and I realised listening to their absurdities distracted my head from throwing up all over the place and just never getting up.

“Typically yes, but absurdly no, cause why would you unless I take it out myself?” The older guy said, sounding genuinely curious yet diabolical at the same time.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

‘Okay yea… silence is fine.’ I thought as I looked at the Knight pleadingly. Literally begging with my eyes to just get moving for god’s sake!

Him getting my message clearly, finally ordered, “Men! On the lookout, and stay away from Sir Conor. Masters,” he said, more sheepishly now “if you may.”

Master Preston, finally deciding not to speak for (goddamn) once, waved his hand, and the cyan fountain between us, turned to a crescent moon as it started rolling higher in the air away from us. And as gravity dictates, I was stuck with an extreme gravitational attraction, flying towards the moon.

Always flying yet never reaching, we all flew towards the moon. Yet if I must say, it felt more like I was swimming. After all the suffocating feeling was there too.

As I was reeling from this casual wave of fantasy, aside from trying to stay conscious, I once again asked myself, why was I not in the manor?

- - - - * - - - -

After barely two minutes of this flying-swimming season, we finally landed at the front gate of the manor.

‘And only god fucking knows how thankful I am for this short trip!’ I exclaimed with my hands on my knees gasping for air.

It was just… pure torture. Not only am I feeling light-headed right now, but this experience brought some indecent memories of the fishes from the dream. And I was not ready for this recollection.

‘If only this wasn’t so damn hard, I would be screaming internally with fascination.’ Cause despite all my complaints, I couldn’t help but be awestruck at this novel method of travel.

‘It’s just too fantastic. Too much!’

But eventually, I got rid of the feeling and finally stood upright, although shakily. And so two of the guards, having removed their masks, stood by my side to help me.

Turning towards the two Artists, I said, “Thank you for your assistance Masters. And for making this journey,

( I can’t say smooth. But I should? No NO!)

swift. I’m honored to make your acquaintance.” Cause despite all their absurdness, they were still in fact Artists, and as far as I know, one of considerable strength.

“All okay all okay. Personally, I’d prefer going slow. Swiftness is merely the heartbeat of the devil we are so attached to. But there’s little one can complain when the force asks you to.” Master Preston began once again, in his oddly unique manner of praying.

“Ah yes, so I’ve heard too. Speed kills. As so I’ve heard. It’s the young mentality to rely on speed. Young death. As they say.” Master Ranx contributing his wisdom.

‘….Why do I even say anything.’ I sighed internally as I bid them farewell.

Looking at their slowly receding figure felt more cathartic than I would’ve expected. It was like scratching an itch in my head.

And so with them finally out of the equation, it was time to meet someone really close to me.

“Lead me to the Viscount’s chamber.” For one shall never speak in terms of relations unless threatening or being threatened. The rule of thumb in our sweet house.

And so I followed the Knight and four more of his men, with me being at the center, as we ascended through the manor stairs, through the hallways.

And throughout the journey, I felt this sick nausea returning as the certainty of time weighed on my mind again.

And for once I was certain it came from the murals. There was this field around them. As if calling me towards them, yet repulsive. They felt…ancient.

I tried looking at them closely, fighting against the sick feeling in my stomach, but I could not sense anything else. I regretted not having my mirror right now. Or personal space.

But finally, all journeys come to an end, and so did mine, shortly, when we finally reached his office. It had an oak door of epic proportions and craftsmanship.

Now the thing which sent chills down my spine was not the door, but the two guards standing around it. They held no weapons and simply stood there with full black robes and burkha of sorts to hide their faces.

‘Are they…. even alive!?’ And my doubt was valid since they did not seem to make any movements. Not even breathing.

“Sir, our job here is over. I wish you luck and pray for your future endeavors as an Artist.” That said, the Knight and his company departed with a salute. Leaving me alone in front of my daddy’s office.

“Hah… no point dilly-dallying.” That said, I knocked on the door and waited.

“Come in.” A strong gruff voice sounded from inside as I opened the door and finally walked inside. My stature straight and formal.

The office was as I remember it in my memories. Huge with walls on one side depicting a gruesome war and on the other an augur holding hands and helping the fallen.

The walls were lined with bookshelves, a wine cabinet, a table with chairs around it in front of a window.

The roof, tall with a chandelier in the shape of clouds. ‘Dark suppressive clouds.’

And as soon as I thought of this, a weight firmly settled in my mind. Suppressing any thoughts of disobedience as I unconsciously bowed in front of the figure sitting behind a desk.

“Greetings, Hon. Viscount.”

“Look up, Fourth. You seem to have changed a lot since the last time I met you.” He said, his voice gruff yet powerful.

And as I felt the weight lift a little, I finally stood straight to look at him. Before me sat an old man. His head bald, he had a thick groomed white beard. His face had wrinkles, yet they hid a lifetime of experience.

His eyes still held that calm unmoving look, like the one I remember from my childhood. 20 years and he never changed.

Sitting there with all the power in this viscountcy of his, still with the tiara on his forehead.

“Do say, what brings you here?” He asked, as if he didn’t already know the reason.

“I beseech the Viscount to stop General Hume Servouz from forcefully inducting me in the army. I’m an Artist and I do not wish to engage in combat.”

“Why should I?”

“It’s part of my rights as the born son of the Viscount Arnaud Servouz to never be forced or coerced into doing something I have no wish for.”

“Yes, it is. But do tell me, do you still view yourself as the mere last son of a Viscount, or more so as an Artist now?” He asked.

And this question stumped me. What am I?

I’ve always thought of myself as an artist throughout my last life. And this one although I never had any artistic talents, I had yearned to be one throughout my life.

And a part of me, who had once been renounced in this house and forced to live alone broke free of my conscious control and yelled, “I’m an Artist!”

“Very well then. If you are one, then prove yourself. Use your own strength to free yourself if you can. A new room has been prepared for your stay for the upcoming week. Dismissed.”

And endless horror surged with me. This fucking suicidal maniac!!

Why did it have to happen like this? I could’ve lied! Could’ve practiced my powers with time. Maybe I’d never get rid of this sick feeling, but I’d at least get to travel the world and draw.

I’m rich now! Why do I have to throw it all away? Why do I have to die on the frontline!?

‘This is not fucking fair dammit!’ I cursed inwardly as I walked out of the room.

‘Fucking shitty family.’

- - - - * - - - -