How long has it been?

Duncan looked out wearily at the moving crowds of people. Laughter and chatter filled the air, intermingling with the enticing aromas of sizzling street food and the melodic tunes of street musicians. The festival grounds were adorned with colorful banners and streamers, creating a kaleidoscope of colors that danced under the warm sun.

However, not all was well and pleasant.

Above each person's head was a number written in red smoke, indicating the remaining lifespan of the individual. Duncan's eyes darted from one smoky trail to another, noting that most dwindled in the single digits. Low single digits. Not that anyone else apart from Duncan could see them.

He'd have been alarmed, but he had grown accustomed to this grim reality over the years. Pretty much everyone in this region was going to die soon. The impending doom, the knowledge that everyone's time was running out, had become an unwelcome companion over the years.

But Duncan wasn't one to sit idly by. Over the past couple of years, he had tirelessly traveled the continent, spending countless hours searching, digging through dusty old books, and seeking advice from wise folks in his quest for answers. He was like a detective, piecing together clues and solving the greatest puzzle of his life. Why was this disaster happening? And how could it be prevented? That was the question burning in his mind, the one that drove him forward.

Sometimes it felt like he was chasing a ghost, with the answers slipping through his fingers. It was frustrating, for it was a ghost only he could see. Even his own family had lost hope, dismissing his tireless efforts as the ramblings of a troubled mind. But Duncan didn't give up. He believed there had to be a way to save the people of his dukedom, to find the solution hidden amidst the shadows. So he pressed on, fueled by hope and determination, even when the road got tough, and the answers seemed far away.

Only two days ago, he received his first real hint on how to prevent this unknown disaster.

Duncan gazed up at the hanging festival lanterns. His mind drifted back to his encounter with the Misfortune Sisters.

"You." The first of the two elderly women, as ancient as the rugged Kobar mountains, extended a long, crooked finger, pointing directly at Duncan. "The ones you love most will be met with misfortune. And my oh my, do you have a great deal you love. A whole dukedom?"

She then turned to her sister, an equally archaic woman. "Glenda, this one reminds me of the other young man we saw this morning."

"Really now?" Glenda studied Duncan with keen interest, her gaze piercing his very soul. "Mmmm, Hilga, you are right. He does remind me of him."

The two elderly women had found respite in the tiny village where Duncan was currently residing. They paid some coin to the village elder to stay the night and were seated across Duncan over bowls of warm porridge in earthen bowls.

"I already know that much," Duncan said.

However, gazing at the impossibly large numbers hanging over the two women's heads, his interest was piqued. He couldn't dismiss the possibility that they held answers he desired, a glimmer of hope amidst the encroaching darkness.

"I need to know how to prevent that misfortune," he added.

"Hah." The village elder scoffed and placed a water jug on the weathered wooden table. "I'm afraid you'll only receive another misfortune from these two. They're called the Misfortune Sisters for a reason."

Duncan raised a brow.

"What does that mean?" he asked.

"They can only tell you how to prevent one misfortune with another misfortune. It's a dreadful business." The village elder poured himself a cup of water and downed it. "Well, it's late. I'll leave you be. Clean up the bowls afterward unless you want to attract cockroaches."

He waved goodbye and left the three to eat their late-night dinner.

"Can you provide a way for me to save the people of my dukedom?" Duncan asked.

"Yes," Glenda said. "But it won't be for free. Nor will it be painless. I can offer a solution, but it'll be in the form that will only bring about another misfortune."

Duncan pulled out his family crest medallion and placed it on the wooden table between them. "Payment is not an issue."

He may have lost his position as heir to his dukedom, but his access to his family's massive treasury remained.

"No, I did not suspect it to be," Glena nodded. "Very well. I will tell you. You must go to the Town of Ascot. Attend the Summer Festival taking place in a few days'. You will come across a young man who has lived… multiple lives there."

Duncan frowned.

He had only met one person in his life that had a number greater than one hanging above their head beside the number of lives lived indicator. It was the same wizard whose fruit he had eaten to obtain these cursed eyes of his and who, in his anger, had near killed Duncan and left his face scarred.

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"Also, with him shall be a companion most unusual," Gelnda added with a smile. "Go to him for help. Help him, and he will, in turn, bring an end to your misfortune."

It's him.

Duncan's blue eyes stared forward, in the present. Before him, just as the Misfortune Sister had predicted, was a young man with a floating eight above his head for lives lived. Fluttering about him was a yellow chick, but it was no ordinary bird. Duncan had never seen anything like it. Instead of a number indicating how many years it had lived and how many it had left, there was an infinity sign instead.

It must be him.

Duncan's heart raced. He felt a string of hope at Glenda's words, but years of hitting a hopeless wall had eaten away at him. Yet now, seeing the young man in the flesh, hope renewed within him in full force.

He stood up and strode towards the black-haired, golden-eyed young man, who was also looking at Duncan. A curious smile appeared on the young man's face as Duncan approached.

"I… I need your help," Duncan said.

He wasn't sure what else to say. The Misfortune Sisters didn't suggest how he ought to introduce himself to the one that would prevent the misfortune from taking place. He gazed up again at the numbers over the young man's head.

He gulped, noting that while this young man appeared like your typical rich young master, the number of lives he had taken was far too high to make sense.

He's dangerous.

"Of course," the young man beamed. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Duncan Genuiver."

He knows me.

Duncan traveled in disguise to avoid bringing unnecessary trouble to his family. However, the lad before him realized who he was right away.

But perhaps I shouldn't be surprised. If anyone can prevent the deaths of millions, it would make sense it's someone quite unusual.

"Let's go to the villa where we can talk privately," the young man suggested, his voice filled with assurance. "I am certain you have questions, and I am happy to say that I am more than willing and able to offer my assistance."

Duncan's gaze shifted toward the grand villa nestled at the top of the hill in the center of the Town of Ascot.

Ah. I am receiving the help of someone quite dangerous indeed. Is that the misfortune the two mentioned?

His fingers fidgeted with the golden signet ring adorning his left hand, symbolizing his noble lineage. Then, despite the apprehension swirling within him, he stepped forward and entered the beckoning red carriage, his path now intertwined with destiny.

As the carriage rolled on, Duncan's thoughts crossed the vast tapestry of Adovoria's history, a subject he had studied diligently as the original heir of the Genuiver Dukedom. The shadowy tales of the Arankagul family, devoid of titles and nobility, resurfaced within his mind. Centuries ago, they had waged a brutal war known as the War of the Shattered Crown, successfully overthrowing Adovoria's ruler. Yet, inexplicably, they chose not to seize the vacant crown for themselves, instead bestowing it upon their lone ally, Lady Aurelia Octavia, whose descendants continued to sit on the throne to this day.

Despite not taking control of the country when they had the chance, the Arankagul family and their descendants continued to be feared and closely monitored by the three dukedoms of Adovoria. However, a series of unfortunate events led to the demise of the majority of the family. Duncan once overheard his mother state in total seriousness that the family name was cursed.

Whether true or not, only one continued to go by the Arankagul family name today: Ruth Arankagul. Her lone surviving child had taken on another name upon marriage, veiling the dark lineage within the records of history.

"Ah, I forgot to introduce myself; I am Luca Frey."

The carriage rocked gently, its motion interrupted by Luca's introduction, bringing Duncan's attention back to the present again. He shifted his gaze from the swaying window, meeting Luca's golden eyes.

Duncan nodded. "It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Luca Frey."

He suspected that he must have been a Frey already, given the connection to Ruth Arankagul. However, he only knew a little about Luca, unlike his brother Micah Frey, who was going to take the crown that his great ancestor did not.

"You said you'd be able to help me?" Duncan asked. "Do you know what I needed help with?"

"Indeed," Luca replied. A flicker of confidence crossed Luca's face as he nodded in affirmation. "You're looking to prevent the early demise of the people of the Genuiver Duchy."

"How did you know this?" Duncan asked.

He trusted the fortune the Misfortune Sisters gave him but still felt baffled by the whole experience.

"We have met before," Luca explained. "In my previous life. That's how I know about your eyes."

Duncan frowned at this.

"In your previous life…? Doesn't that mean you failed to help me?" he asked.

He didn't understand how Luca's multiple lives worked, but he had guessed this much about Luca Frey's strange ability.

"Peep!"

The curious little yellow bird chirped and fluttered around Luca.

"Yes, I suppose in a way I did fail," Luca replied. "See, I had died before I could help. Before the disaster even struck."

"When did you die?" Duncan asked.

"Ahem." Luca looked somewhat embarrassed. "It was ten days from now that I had died on my last life."

Duncan's eyes moved to the eight floating above Luca's head.

"What about the other times?" he asked.

"Ah, well. Never mind those times," Luca replied. However, his body language betrayed a hint of discomfort. "Besides, it was my first time meeting you in my last life."

Duncan traced the intricate patterns on his golden signet ring.

No. This may be what the Misfortune Sisters meant by one misfortune to prevent another misfortune.

He was prepared to give something else up to save his dukedom. However, it dawned on Duncan that perhaps what he had to give up was saving his people in this current life. At the very least, that's what it appeared he had done in those prior that Luca lived through.

It's a much higher price than I expected.

"You said you could help?" Duncan pressed. "What makes this life different from the previous instance?"

"Well, for starters, I discovered a way to restore your tarnished reputation and reinstate you as the rightful heir to the Genuiver Duchy." Luca beamed. "With you in charge, we'll have an easier time preventing the impending famine and winning in the forthcoming war a few years out."

Duncan nodded, a glimmer of hope reigniting within him.

Luca had finally revealed some good news. And he had, at the very least, lived long enough to know what tragedies would befall the Genuiver Duchy.

It's more than what I knew. It's certainly a start.

He averted his eyes to the people the carriage passed by, at the single digits above all of their heads.

And even if the chances of success in my lifetime are slim, perhaps those odds are worth betting against.

His eyes adjusted, looking at his bandaged face, and blue eyes reflected in the window.

"By the way," Luca said. "Can that ability of yours see when I will die?"

Duncan frowned. His eyes moved above Luca's head of black hair.

"Unfortunately, no," he replied.

Apart from the number of lives lived and the number of lives Luca had taken, normally, there would have been a third number indicating how many years Luca had left. However, in the place where the number normally showed, the smoke in its place seemed to have dissipated. It was as if a candle was blown out, and a soft cloud of smoke remained.

"There's nothing there," Duncan said.