There was an oddly bizarre feeling as I walked from the ornate, marbled porch—where interchangeable, long and narrow midnight blue robed wearing, servants helped me remove my damp fur-lined cloak and boots, replacing the later with slipper-like shoes—into the overwhelming entrance hall.

Everywhere were bright colours which seemed like they should’ve clashed with each other in a kaleidoscope of colours; instead, they merged into a tasteful, if still overwhelming, display. Then there were the lights, a brightness which was such odds with the dullness outside. Not only did the lights hang from the celling in a mockery of the night sky, but they adorned the walls and surfaces of countless tables, cupboards, and shelves.

Yet the bizarre feelings got worse as my memories, both mine and the body’s, fought with each other against the reality in front of me. All of them were trying to claim the sense of returning home. My memories thought to show me the simple and cramped entrance corridor with coats hanging from the walls, letters piled hazardously on a narrow shelf too small for them, and the smell of my flatmate’s regular breakfast of avocado toast. The memory from this body showed a similar hall to this, darker, larger, and emptier, yet which echoed with the shouts of children as they scream and laughed whilst being informed by an overly strict matron that they should act like children befitting their rank and not Tier Three degenerates.

Instead of the refreshing, fresh air from outside, even if it was uncomfortably cold, the air in this vast entrance chamber was stuffy and thickly filled with a perfume which made it hard to breathe. Between the stuffiness and the thick air, I was glad I was wearing only a thin shirt. Yet the same shirt held a collarless neck which cramped uncomfortably around my neck, forcing me to improve my posture so as not to strange myself on my clothes. Not for the first time since I left Outer Heart, I longed for the simple uniform tunic that I wore as a soldier.

Walking down the stairs which formed a centrepiece to the hall, with a grace which I remembered well, walked my Mother. The years had aged her well. She was now more beautiful than ever. Instead of a simple dress, she was now wearing a gown which wouldn’t be out of place in a ballroom. Her hair, though plied into multiple plaits which snaked around her head, was much more ornate than the simple braids this body remembered she often wore when she was a mother.

All the while, as she glided down the stairs, our eyes were locked upon each other. I could tell that she was conflicted. Small signs, probably not noticeable to anyone else. Tension in the corner of her eyes, a slightly clenched mouth, fingers locking a bit too hard on the fabric of the dress as she lifted the hem just enough she wouldn’t trip on it as she made her way down the stairs.

Then when her shoes clicked on the shiny floor of the entrance hall, that regal grace which she had been clinging too tight to crumbled like untrained troops facing against heavily focused Tier Nine warriors.

She charged towards me like a Fissure Denzien. Her gown, more suited for a ballroom than a battlefield, flowing behind her a battle standard. Maybe it was because I was larger and older now, but the strong, refined, regal lady seemed smaller and weaker than before.

As she charged towards me, she retained a small sense of dignity, her tears remained wetness in her eyes. My eyes watered too, but I didn’t care. I braced myself to receive her. She slammed into my body, entangling her arms around me. I wrapped my arms around her tight in return. We both then broke into tears.

I was now finally, and fully, home.

‘My son, my son, I never stopped praying to the goddess for your safety.’ She got out between stifled sobs.

I kissed the top of her head, her hair smooth under my lips. ‘I’m sorry for making you worry, Mother, I hope you can forgive me.’

‘You have done nothing which needs forgiving, my Son. I just wish he could’ve seen the man you’ve become. He never once forgot about you, you know. Even before he died, he talked about you fondly.’

Once again, my Father’s death was brought up, but Brother hadn’t told me how he had died. Just that he had. There was something there, but now wasn’t the time for such talk.

‘We’ve gathered all your siblings we could, together. Your niece is awaiting you too. She has long wanted to see her hero. As for your bride, she’ll attend you privately in the library after our family meal.’

Even though the family meal was for me, I ended up not being the central figure. That was okay with me. Just being with a fun group of people all talking about things which I didn’t understand and all being happy for each other was enough for me. I couldn’t even talk to my Brother as he sat at the head of the table, and I the foot.

My table manners were worse than even the youngest child there; even if I did my best to watch, mirror, and rely upon the memory of this body. No one minded, still I would need to get someone to give me an intensive lesson in manners and how to live as a Tier Nine from a great House. At least it was winter and I could have some time before I was trotted off around other Houses as some kind of show animal.

I even managed to get a new trait—Scion of the Fastidious House—just by doing my best in the meal. Even at whatever low level it was, it soon made a difference. I noticed it mainly when being led towards the library, instead of a strutting march I used when I was at Outer Heart, I was walking more like how I remembered my Father walked. Strong, firm, still militaristic and strong, but with a touch more grace. Like a man who took crap from no one, yet still had grace to fit in with society.

Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

The path towards the library remained familiar to me, even after all these years. It must’ve really been important to this body for it to affect me so. As the servant moved to open the door, I waved them off. With a bob which seemed strangely feminine even though I was pretty sure it was a man in that narrow midnight blue robe, they departed. I took a couple of calming breaths, relying upon my Calm Mediation in Chaos trait.

Unlike meeting Whirling Cloud, and being swept along in a strange whirlwind romance with her, this was a match I had to participate in. The fact she was here, and the stress my Brother put upon the importance of this match, showed that I was trapped in this marriage, even though we’d yet to meet or marry.

He did talk about the ability to take lovers, mistresses, and mothers and how he had taken one to ease the time he was forced to spend with his wife. During the meal, they had seemed close, but from what I saw, there was an impassable barrier between them. It appeared to me that they were more like work colleagues rather than genuine friends or lovers. His other woman, which he had never told me what her official role was, wasn’t present.

I just hoped that there would be something which we could build between us. I honestly wanted to find, and keep, love in this world. In my last world, I’d been either too busy or too unlucky to find any love.

Still, I would be able to enjoy a woman’s company for more than a single night. Not that I did back at Outer Heart. I was wary of my position and never wanted to make a woman submit to me. Though I was loath to admit, my high-minded edict crumbled under various pressures, at certain times, and I found myself being attended to by prostitutes, especially as my body aged.

The door handle felt strange in my grip. Like it was too small, too fragile. Back then, that handle promised strength, stability, and the promise of riches beyond. I might’ve grown, but I hoped the promise of riches still held true; for right now I was about to—

No.

Enough.

I centred myself with Calm Mediation in Chaos once again and opened the door.

Beyond everything looked as it did when I—this body—last saw it before heading off on the journey which led him being killed, resurrected, sold off to the Temple, before becoming a Solider Slave.

The windows, though, were different. They were now covered by midnight blue curtains, which had silver stars embroidered on them. But beyond that, the tall floor to celling shelves crammed with books lined every wall and the slightly shorter bookshelves which were packed tightly together off to one side of the room. Despite the cramped space for the books, the two luxurious sofas, which I had often laid down upon, in various ways, whilst reading a book. Then there was the large comfortable armchair in which my Father always read. In the centre of these sofas and arm chair was a low set table which, back before I departed, often held piles of books.

Now it held a tray of sweets, cakes, a teapot, and 2 delicate looking teacups.

Sitting straight-backed on one of the sofas, elegantly reading a small book, was a familiar-looking woman. It couldn’t be her, because it was ten years ago since I had seen her for that memorable time of flirting at the commander of Outer Heart. She had the same lithe body and dusky tan skin, but unlike that commander, who lounged all the time. This one held herself rigidly.

She was also younger than what the commander was then. She was probably only two years older than me. Though I wouldn’t claim to be correct in that, I always struggled to age women correctly; sometimes pleasing them when I guessed their age as younger than what they were, or annoying them if I guessed them older than they were. Well, there were always exceptions, though.

I walked in, closing the door quietly behind me, and sat down opposite her. She must’ve been engrossed in the book, as she took no notice of me. I looked at the title. It was a book this body remembered reading. In fact, it was the last book it read before it went to the Temple. Managing a House, Useful Traits for Those in Leadership, and how to Oversee the Major Roles Required.

It was a dry and lecturing book, but it had more than a few nuggets of wisdom, some of which I leveraged when I commanded soldiers.

‘An interesting book. I found it helpful in Outer Heart.’

She jumped and looked at me. Her eyes, which had been intently focused on the book moments ago, turning wide. In a youthful manner, which I didn’t expect from her otherwise regal poise, she hid her face behind the book.

‘Forgive me, my groom.’ She said, still hiding her face behind the book. ‘I wanted to give you a good impression and wait for you as a lady should. But this book, laying on the table alongside the tray, just called out to me. I love books, you see.’

That was right. I hadn’t put the book away on the shelf when I rushed out after a servant told me it was time to depart. So had they kept the book on the table the whole time I had been away?

I stood up and walked around the table, and sat down on the sofa next to the woman who was to be my wife. She was almost halfway through the book, and was working through the dense lecture about logistics.

‘What I remembered of that chapter was helpful when at Outer Heart,’ I said.

‘Seriously?’ She said. ‘I only just started the chapter, but I find some of the precepts he holds dear are outdated. Master Oak, in his new book, Economics in Running a Successful Settler House, introduces—‘

When a servant came to collect us for the evening meal, we were in the midst of a passionate, wide ranging, expansive talk about books. The sweets, cakes, and tea long forgotten and untouched, hidden behind countless piles of books which once again covered the table.