One day, father requested for me. A servant told me so.

I didn’t react. No fear, no sadness, no anger, no nothing.

After the failure I had experienced, the close to 5 months of efforts wasted, I wasn’t hoping for anything. I just wanted for it to end at once, to have that weight removed from my shoulders.

To be able to think of something else.

I had failed to reach my end of the bargain. I had failed to use the hint father had given me that night — I was still convinced it was an hint.

I just wanted it to end.

When I was called, I stood up from my desk, looking at it one last time; reminiscing the 5 fruitless months I had spent here, and then stepped out — my gait defeated. I walked towards his office, towards the lair of the beast, waiting to see what would happen with my pitiful existence.

A year ago, being summoned would put a smile on my face; it meant that he was dedicating his limited free time to me. But I wasn’t foolish enough to still hope for that.

Back then, I’d sit on his knee while he completed paperwork, looking with undivided attention at his every movement, convinced that one day I would be like him. Or, I’d sit on the couch and he’d tell me of his stories of wars and fighting.

Thinking about that broke my semblance of emotionlessness.

Sadness piercing through as I realized this would never happen again; but I couldn’t cry.

"It doesn’t befit a man to cry," I remembered.

Getting there took a while, giving me time to ruminate about the worse. Even then, I couldn’t have imagined what would happen.

I took a deep breath and signaled at Gregoire, who had walked alongside me. As I did, he nodded and opened the door so that I could enter.

As I got into the room, my thoughts were confirmed.

It would happen today.

The warm atmosphere I had secretly hoped for was nowhere to be seen.

Guess, I am a fool.

As I entered, and saw my dad lifting his head with a dead-pan face lacking any semblance of hurry, a heavy sense of foreboding started rising in me.

“F-father, I heard you called for me,” I said, stumbling over my words.

“Take a seat,” he said, his voice uninterested, distant.

Despite being the one to invite me here, he didn’t seem to want to talk to me.

I advanced steps unsteady — afraid — as I went to sit on the couch that was near father’s desk. I would have gone for the chair he had readied, but it was too tall for me to sit in — likely a remnant from a meeting with someone else.

As I took my seat, he watched me for a bit.

Before going back to his paperwork, he dipped his feather pen into ink, and continued to sign documents, take notes, ratify things...

I expected it would take a minute at most, but he went on for much longer than expected, leaving me with only one thing to do — ruminate some more.

I went at it for what felt like an eternity, and then when I tired of scaring myself, I opened my eyes and looked outside.

The sun had already gone down, and the moons were rising. I had been talking to myself for at least 30 minutes.

“Dad..?” I said hesitantly,

“I don’t want to bother you, but didn’t you call for me?”

He lifted his head for a bit, dipping his pen into ink before looking at me, with placid eyes, “Umm, look like you are more sensible than expected.”

He then continued writing for another minute before finally putting his pen back on its stand and stretching.

“Haaargh, I made you wait, didn’t I?” He said, with an amicable voice that felt like a lie.

He then added, “as you know, with your core as it is, your career as mage is over before it even started.”

My face turned grim.

“I will spare you all the grown up stuff, about politics, power struggles blablabla, point is you will have to keep a low profile for an undetermined period of time.”

“What do you mean?” I said, puzzled.

“I found you a body double.”

“Body-what?” I threw back, even more puzzled.

“Eh, in simple words, someone that looks like you to take your place.”

“Take my place.”

“B-b-but why??” I said, my eyes widening, as my teeth clattered.

No matter how I thought about it, this made no sense. I expected to be replaced, yes. By my brother. I knew that once he was there, I’d most likely fade in the background, but a body-double?

“Hm, what are you talking about? Obviously, this is to protect you.” His words sounded mechanical and emotionless, but preferring that to an overt admission, I decided to trust him.

“T-then what will I have to do?” I asked, my body shivering despite my best efforts.

This whole body double stratagem seemed fishy, and me having to hide seemed weird. Undetermined period too?

It all sounded like an... No it's dad...

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“Ahh I knew you were a smart boy. First, we will need to shave your head.” He dropped this bomb so casually, that I thought I had misheard.

“Hahaha, I think I didn’t hear you well, I heard something really, funny,” I said while in a fit of anxious laugh, as I blinked repeatedly; I knew I had failed, but still...

“This is all to protect you, sonny; you know it’d be troublesome if people confused you with the body double would it?”

I was shocked.

There was no one among the Balmungs or their retinue who didn’t know of the importance of that hair.

“N-no way...” I said sheepishly, hanging on that last bit of pride, even if it was to protect me. “Dad, you’re being weird.”

“Urgh, please don’t make this any harder than it has to be,” he said.

“B-but dad!” I finally raised my voice.

“Son," he said, pushing his domineering aura into his word, talking not like a father but like a general to his troops.

“It’s that or the Galvrungs.”

At these words, I put my hands on my mouth, shuddering at the mere mention of the name.

The Galvrungs were one of the more notorious families of the Dark Heavens. Their battle power was nothing incredible; mediocre at best. However, what made their notoriety were their experimentations. They were a family of scientists, and while some of them were mostly normal with slightly higher sadistic tendancies; the vast majority were total deviants who were known for experimenting on live human beings and inflicting them unimaginable pain.

Their violent tendencies were so famous that their name was widely used to scare children into obedience.

My shock grew to consternation. My vision of the man I called “father” starting to crumble, he had been rough with me, but every time it was because I had gaffed. However, now, he was threatening me with no pretenses, more terrifying than anything else, I knew in my mind that if I really resisted, he’d have no qualms about doing what he said he would do, while for most parents this was only a bluff, father totally had the means to do what he claimed he would.

“Really?” I said, unable to believe what I had just heard.

He didn’t answer, looking at me with stern eyes.

I folded.

The tiniest bit of energy anger had given me had been immediately squashed by the fear of the Galvrungs and now of father.

“Good, good alright, so that matter is settled. I will arrange this for later this week”

“Yes,” I said, with no energy or courage to say anything else.

“You can go now,” he said as he gestured me to leave

I had spent 30 minutes waiting, and he had given me all of 2 minutes to process the information.

I stood up, confused and scared. I had yet to completely realize what had just happened and what I had just agreed to.

As I walked towards the door, and went on my tippy toes again to open it, to run away, he said this.

“Also, I don’t think I have to tell you since you are a smart boy, but you know what will happen if you tell anyone about this, right?” He said with a smile that made him look like the devil, his canines showing.

I shivered and nodded. At this moment I realized why this man, that until now I had called father, was called the winged hound.

#

I left Gregoire there.

Walking through the alleys, trying to process what had happened and what would happen to me in a week’s time, I realized how foreign these hallways now looked.

With the tension gone, I realized that many things that I had not noticed before — even on that night — seemed to have poofed into existence: new frames hung to the wall, new armors on display, new chandeliers. Things so obvious, I wondered how I could have missed them.

I walked past a maid who while talking to another called me Paria.

At first I thought it was the name of the maid she was talking to — albeit a weird name, it made more sense than the alternative. But no she was looking at me. Walking through the hallways, I realized this name came up a lot, Paria. Paria.. Paria..

Why?

Wait..

Ahh, so that’s how it is. As the realization struck, I inwardly chuckled.

With how quickly these months had went, and how busy I had been, it had just now hit me, that I had yet to receive a name. I knew this was something that would happen when I turned 5, the naming ceremony; the moment where I would be presented to the rest of the Balmung’s head.

This moment of acknowledgement and recognition, I still haven’t received it.

Paria Balmung... Hahahaha, quite fitting...

I took it with humor on the surface, but now why there was even a need for a body double made perfect sense.

I was nothing to be proud of, and my future as a mage was nonexistent. An undetermined amount of time, no no no...

I prevented myself from finishing that line of thought. I didn’t want to think of the implications. Still, it still lurked — a black shadow of doubt and unease.

You’re useless.

You’ve been abandoned.

Pack your stuff and leave.

A voice repeated, but I shook my head. Refusing that, refusing these ideas..

He said it was to protect me. Let’s believe in him. This won’t last too long, I’ll wait it out and then take back my rightful place as a Balmung.. Yes, yes.

That’s it.

I walked and every once in a while I’d hear this name repeated.

Paria. Paria. Paria. Paria.

Openly calling me an outcast.

At first, it was easy to ignore it, but soon I started casting glares every time I heard the name. The maids looked at me in disdain before going back to their idle talk or wisely walking away.

Finally, I lashed out.

Two maids that were standing by themselves gossiping and laughing received the brunt of it.

They ignored me.

“Hey” I yelled. My insupportably shrill voice making my attempt at threatening comical.

Still.

As I did, they walked away.

“What?” I roared. “Running away? You think you’ll get away that easily?”

The maids looked at me, mockery still obvious on their faces as they apologized. “Pa- young duke, we weren’t intending to offend you. Please forgive us.”

My eyes swam. For how long had this been going on?

Since when had they went from reverent subservience to that? I didn’t want much, but this was blatant disrespect.

“Hey no matter what you think of me, I am still a Balmung,” I yelled, anger apparent in my voice, failing to be convincing as my voice cracked.

“Just watch!”

As these words left my mouth, their faces stiffened a bit as if they had realized their mistakes.

Not too long after, however, they looked at each other and laughed it off before leaving on their own terms.

“W-WAIT!” I said, desperately trying to cling to the tiniest bit of authority I still had.

They ignored me, again.

I clenched my teeth and my fist in anger and powerlessness.

Why the hell was I born with that damned core?

"Why was I born like this!" I said in my mind, my eyes blazing with fury.

It felt as if everything I could usually count on: effort, father, this name of mine; it felt as if everything was abandoning me.

I now realized how powerless I was. It finally clicked. I wasn’t fit for the world of a mages; I wasn’t fit for this world at all.

“Paria uh? I wonder if dad would approve it,” I surprised myself stating before shaking my head in dismissal.

No no no, there’s no way he would!

He definitely would.

N...

I ran to mom, to the garden.

I knew she — at least — would accept me.

[…]

When I arrived in the idyllic garden, her expression seemed conflicted and her mind in a daze. In a way, it felt like she was going through the same thing I was.

We ate.

Despite being surrounded by flowers, and sipping on her favorite tea, mom’s expression was grim.

Trying our bests to enliven our spirits. I told what had happened to mom, and immediately her face flashed with anger, not directed at me but at whomever had done it.

Then,

She called me Thesar. Apparently, it was the name she’d have given me if she had had a choice.

She said it was a word from her language meaning treasure.

It felt grand; it felt valuable; and it felt heavy.

As I heard that, I smiled. This was a genuine smile.

But I felt unworthy of such a name.

I hated to admit it, but Paria seemed more fitting.

The more time passed, the less I felt angry at the maids; they were right after all.

She told me not to worry; she consoled me and after that I simply sat there. I wasn’t hungry, and I wasn’t thirsty either. While I tried to laugh and I was feeling much better than when I had first arrived, I wasn’t in the mood for sweets.

I drank the tea. Politeness obliges, but I left the cookies untouched.

Her worried and grim face.

The faint smile she flashed to hide it.

Mom..

Cynthia Balmung.

When I think about it, I should have eaten some.

I should have fully indulged in that moment of solace.

After all, this was the last time I would spend time with her like that. I didn’t realize it then. I still wasn’t even sure what a body double implied, but soon it’d hit me mercilessly.

How true that “Paria” name would become.