Mere seconds pass as nothing happens, locked in a limbo with nothing happening. Not like the comfort of the after death nor its calming embrace, but simply an empty space. I then feel a rough surface, as if I was lying on a gravel path, along with unidentifiable sounds.
I lay there for a few moments, before coming to the realisation that I could feel my body. ‘Did I not die?’ I ask myself, opening my eyes to see that I was on the ground.
Pushing myself up from the ground, I find myself on a path in a garden. An ornate and Victorian looking house to my left, and more gardens to my right. As I’m getting my bearing, I notice two children looking at me with horrified expressions and shaking.
As I stand up, I finally tune in to the noises around me and hear rushed foot steps coming in my direction. ‘Why was I lying in the middle of a path and why do I seem so small?’. Turning around to where the running was coming from, I’m nearly tackled by several people all yelling about calling a doctor.
Completely confused, I look to one of the people who were inspecting me for something. “Why are you making such a fuss.” Hearing the voice that came out when I spoke, I’m shocked as it wasn’t my own.
Gingerly touching my throat to see if it was injured, I feel a wet sensation on my skin. Bringing my hand up to my face, I’m presented with something concerningly similar to the colour and texture of blood.
“Young master, you were playing with the young masters of the Semarik family and were injured! We have called the doctor already, please wait a moment.” The person I asked says.
“The Semarik family? I don’t recall anyone with that last name.” I respond, only for the people around me to react with more horrified faces and start yelling again about bringing a doctor immediately.
Feeling extremely confused, I take a deep breath and pinch the bridge of my nose in anticipation for the headache I had a feeling that would be coming. Gesturing for the people around me to move back, I quickly go over everything that Kharon had said.
Knowing enough about mythology to guess who he was even if it wasn’t obvious, my brain goes on a side tangent about whether I should be saying his name so easily. Being pulled from my thoughts by the sound of more people approaching, and quite literally being pulled as a middle aged man dressed in a simple yet neat suit and sporting a killer moustache grabs my shoulders.
“Please answer all of my questions to the best of your abilities young master, it would be dire if I were to miss something while making sure that you are alright.” The man says, pulling over a decent sized satchel and bringing out a handful of old fashioned almost steampunk looking medical apparatus.
He then went over a handful of questions such as, do you feel any pain anywhere, do you feel lightheaded, are you having any issues focusing, all while looking over me and doing what you would expect someone of medical personal would do with someone who just suffered a concussion.
A few moments go by as he asks questions and I answer with me being fine and having no issues, before my patience starts to wane and I instead take a turn asking questions.
“Do you have a mirror on hand, and if so may I see it? Quickly I’d like to add.” Still not really wanting or knowing or able to show any major emotions, I just stare at the man waiting for an answer. After a moment of him looking through his bag, he brings out a mirror and hands it to me.
As he does, another person appears behind me where the two children were. Not bothering to turn around before I see what I look like, I hear the voice of a woman who seemed to be fussing over the kids.
Looking into the mirror, I stare in disbelief. What stared back at me was the face of a child with chaotic yet styled dirty blond hair, and with blood smearing a good half his face and neck that seemingly belonged to him.
Yet in the new face, there was something I was familiar with. The eyes that I saw while still in the castle were my own, the same black and gold shattered eyes that seemed to carry small shards of glass that shifted around every time I looked somewhere.
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Staring into the mirror with disbelief, I fail to notice two more people enter the already chaotic and crowded scene. A silence follows as the two look back between the two children that were crying in the embrace of the woman who had shown up before, and the one that looked as if someone had just told them that their mother had died and was still processing the shock while also covered in his own blood.
Being flash banged by the scene unfolding, they stood there while everyone just looked at them with apprehension and worry, before a chuckle breaks the tense atmosphere.
Confused as to who could be laughing in this situation, they realise it was the kid who seemed to be injured. Staring at the child and now broken out of their reverie they rush over to him.
Staring at the mirror, I find myself laughing, a wide yet deranged smile spread across my face. ‘Why am I alive still? How am I alive? Why do I have this body? Who am I now? Am I still me? What do I do now?’. Almost all questions I probably should have asked before, but were too manipulated to think about.
Slowly, my thoughts start to spiral as to who could be responsible. I let my arm holding the mirror go slack and fall to my side, while trying to cover my smile and hold myself steady with the other.
‘Was it that ferryman? Or one of those fucking gods? Is this their parting gift they thought I would like after they threw me away because I had done their bidding against my will?’.
Trying to calm myself, I’m pulled from my incessant and unrelenting thoughts by being hugged by the two other people that had shown up. Looking up at them, I came face to face with a man who seemed to scream importance yet caring with light blonde almost white hair, and a woman with a similar demeanour and brown hair, both of whom were dressed extremely well.
Not knowing what to do and still shellshocked, I let them hold me while saying all manner of things that a parent who had seen their child get hurt would say…
Wait a minute…
Still reeling from everything and slowly coming to terms with things, I manage to piece together that these people were most likely ‘my’ parents. A few moments of them checking on me later with me not moving an inch, they and the doctor stand up and start to hurry into the house, with my ‘father’ carrying me.
Before they could get to the walkway and door that they had come from, the woman that had shown up first and was still consoling the two kids stands up and says possibly the most idiotic and genuinely insane thing I think I had ever heard.
“Why are you not having the doctor check my children?! They suffered just as much as that boy from the shock of seeing blood!”.
While the first part made sense, her reasoning would have sent her straight into social purgatory and a mental ward. With everyone else around us most likely thinking the same thing as me, they stare at her in disbelief.
She then began to continue her logic and blocking the path to the door before the attendants that had flocked to me at the start moved her aside so the doctor and other two could continue into the house.
As we hurry into the building, I hear her hurl the last sentence of, “You shouldn’t pamper that brat so much! He will grow into a spoiled child who doesn't know how the world works! You need to educate h-”.
To my luck, she ends up far enough away that I don’t hear the rest of her ramblings. With my mind starting to clear up from the initial shock, I start to go down the rabbit hole of ‘what the actual fuck do I do now?’.
Not even remotely having the answer to that, I pay attention to my surroundings as we zip past them, before arriving in front of a room that the group of three immediately move into. The man then gently places me on a bed, letting the woman take his place to try and console me while the doctor moves to the opposite side of the bed.
The man then calls a nearby attendant to get a few towels and some warm water, while the doctor brings out a roll of bandages. The woman continues to hold my hand and try to console me, meanwhile I’m lying in the bed trying and somewhat failing to organise my thoughts.
Moments later, a few attendants walk into the room with the aforementioned water and cloths. Handing them over to the doctor, he then proceeds to clean the blood from my hair and face before doing another check for injuries.
As he does, his face slowly morphs into increasing levels of confusion, finally stopping to look at the woman beside me, “Lady Avilair, your son doesn't seem to have received any injuries. I'm not sure if there's anything I can do.” the doctor says.
Lady Avilair then looks back at him before remarking in disbelief, “That's impossible, if he isn’t hurt then why was there so much blood?” the doctor simply gives a confused face in return.
Lady Avilair then turns to look at the man who had been standing nearby with a pleading look, “I don’t have an explanation either, but doctor Vergn has been looking after our family for years and I trust his judgement.” he says before moving in to hug the woman.
Accepting the embrace, the woman then turns back to me and asks, “are you sure you are alright?”
Looking at her, I question what I was supposed to do and settle with an idea. “Yes, I am fine. Though if I may ask, who are you?”