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Chapter 1

Erik woke with his head pounding. He remembered waking up to the smell of smoke. He’d called for help, but no one answered. His last memory was of reaching for his wheelchair when he passed out.

He let out a bitter laugh. It didn’t take much to realize that his caretakers were involved in the blaze. His house wouldn’t catch fire like that. The face of his brother flashed in his mind. Mark arranged a car accident to kill his own brother. Why wouldn’t he arrange a fire? 

His darling younger brother would be so upset. Erik managed to survive both times. He was paralyzed from the waist down in the first accident. What disability would he have to live with now?

He wondered who saved him? Forcing his eyes open, his mouth dropped. Where was this?

Erik had never seen anything similar to this. There was a glowing blue orb rotating in the middle of the room. The view out the window showed a sweeping meadow. He slapped himself across the face. The resulting sting did not calm him down. Could you feel pain in a dream?

Shifting, he paused. He ripped the covers off and looked at his legs. He’d bent his right knee. Cautiously, he straightened out his leg. Then wiggled his toes. Tears started to stream down his face. He didn’t know how long he sat moving his feet.

The sound of a door opening startled him. He looked over to see a woman wearing a maid’s outfit enter the room. She had a basin in her hand. 

When she saw him, she screamed, dropping the pan. 

Erik was startled and shifted away from her. He needed to get out of here. Moving, he got off the bed. He was relieved that his legs could hold his weight. He paused before sitting down.

There was no way he could regain mobility in his legs. It was impossible. He searched the room for a reflective surface. Erik staggered over to a mirror, where an unfamiliar face greeted him. 

He slumped to the ground.

The maid’s scream alerted other people. He heard the rush of footsteps but couldn’t look away from the image. Every action he made, the figure reflected in the mirror copied. 

“My son.”

Erik startled, turning he saw a woman dressed in red enter the room. She pulled him into a hug, and he awkwardly lifted his hands out of the way.  

“Don’t you recognize me?” The woman pulled back. He saw a pair of lavender eyes. They were similar to the ones reflected in the mirror.

“Who am I?” He countered the woman’s question. Amnesia was a good excuse; it worked for every other main character.

The woman let out a distressed wail, and Eric flinched back. Were all women born with the ability to make that sound? 

“My poor son!” She held him tighter.

He looked to the people behind her for help. Everyone watched and whispered amongst themselves, but no one came forward.

More rapidly approaching steps. The people in the room moved out of the way. A tall, black-haired man with red eyes entered the room. After him came a gray-haired man wearing a white robe.

“Melanie,” The black-haired man said. He came over and pulled the wailing woman off of Erik. “Let the mage look at him.”

“He doesn’t remember!” she wailed.

That red gaze turned to him.

Erik tilted his head. “Ahm, hello?” How did a person with amnesia act?

“Let me have a look,” The old man spoke, but Eric was most shocked by him. Out of nowhere, the man conjured a staff. The man said a phrase in a different language, and a white light enveloped Erik.

He lifted his hands. The light clung to his skin. He blushed with embarrassment when he realized everyone was watching him.

Little did he know that this was what solidified his story of amnesia. He’d looked like a child seeing magic for the first time. Wide eyes and an open mouth as he played with his fingers.    

“My poor baby.” The woman wailed more into the black-haired man’s chest.

“You can do it too,” The gray-haired man said.

“Me?” Erik asked, surprised. He looked up.

“Yes.” The man’s voice was calm. “Can you feel the light?”

Erik took a moment. “Is it warm?” There was an energy humming against his skin. “It’s warmer in some places than others.” He lifted his hand to touch his head.

Everyone in the room exchanged shocked glances.

“Where else is it warmer?” The black-haired man asked.

The woman he’d assumed was the mother of this body wore a serious look, and she’d stopped crying.

Erik focused. Lifting a hand, he patted his stomach.

“It wasn’t me!” The maid who came in earlier wailed and dropped to the floor. Her forehead pressed to the ground.

“Is it wrong?” Erik asked, looking at the kneeling woman in concern.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Would you like to use the light?”

They spoke as if they were talking to a child. How long was this body in a coma? Since he was curious, he played along. Turning away from the woman, he focused on the older man.

“Can you imagine a ball of light in your hand? When you have the image, say Lum.”

Erik focused. He imagined a light bulb. “Lum.”

A bright light burst out of his palm. He closed his eyes and slapped his hand against the floor. Too bright.

There were shocked gasps in the room.

There were consecutive thuds. Erik looked up to see everyone except his parents and the mage kneeling.

“Too bright?”

This atmosphere was weird. Erik needed to be cautious. No matter how curious he was about magic, it could have waited.

“Why don’t we get young master Eric on the bed?” The old man was the first to regain his senses. 

“Erik?” He parroted. Did they have the same name? Shocked, he looked back in the mirror. “Erik.”

“Eric.” The woman stressed the word. 

That was what he said. Erik gave her a confused glance. 

The dark-haired man approached and lifted him. He grabbed onto the man’s shoulders. He needed to gain weight if someone could lift him that easily.

“I heard my fiancée was awake?” 

The mood of the room dropped further. Using the black-haired man’s shoulders as purchase, Eric popped his head up to look. “Fiancee?” he squeaked.

There was too much information for him to process. He looked at the newcomer. This man was tall and blond. Everything about him seemed arrogant.

“Me?” He leaned back to look at his father.

“What happened to him?” The blond man didn’t look concerned. Instead, he looked suspicious. 

“Why don’t I take a look at him, your majesty?” This time a young man in a white robe spoke.

“Majesty?” He repeated. He was questioning his intelligence. Wasn’t that a term used for nobility? A king, if he remembered correctly. Erik wondered what kind of place he’d woken up in.

A new light covered his body. This light was more aggressive. It didn’t have the soothing nature of the light from before. It made the hair on his body stand on end, his stomach turned. 

“Stop.” Erik was shocked. He felt the energy in him rushing to the surface and pushing away the light. 

“Why are you rejecting me?”

He didn’t even know what he did. “Cause it hurts.” Erik grabbed his stomach. He started coughing. Everyone was shocked to see blood seeping through his fingers.  

“What have you done?” The black-haired rushed him to the bed. 

Erik was relieved to be lying down. “What’s wrong with me?” Blood didn’t surprise him anymore. The number of ailments he had after his car accident wasn’t few. He coughed up blood daily. 

He’d hoped this body would be healthier. The fact that he could stand and walk on his own was enough for him to accept whatever strange transmigration happened to him.

The people in the room watched the young man examine the blood on his hand. It was the same expression from when he saw magic earlier.

“Don’t worry about the blood.” The black-haired man reached over to wipe the blood from his fingers with a handkerchief. 

The purple-eyed woman looked like she wanted to rip the young mage to pieces.

“Isn’t blood bad?” He just needed someone to tell him what was wrong; it wouldn’t hurt if they would tell him their names while they were at it.

“Young master, Can you tell me what happened today?” The old man kept his polite tone. He shot a reproachful look at the young mage. 

“I woke up.” Nothing else happened. 

“Do you expect us to believe that?” The young mage spoke up.

“Who are you supposed to be? With all this hostility, you’d think I stole your candy when you were a kid.” Erik coughed more. The blood seeped between his fingers.

The young mage stamped his feet. “You!” 

“What happened?” The arrogant blond one asked, cutting off the mage. 

“He lost his memory. Before you ask, he didn’t even know his own name.” The older mage filled in. 

The purple-eyed woman walked to the maid who came into the room first. “What did you feed him?” All eyes focused on her. 

Her voice was so cold that Erik was shocked. Where was the weeping woman who clung to him?

“It wasn't me, my lady.” The maid banged her head on the floor.

“Haha. You are the only one with access to this ward.” 

The maid’s head flew up. She shuffled backward. “I didn’t want to do it. They threatened my family.”

“I will ask you once again, what did you feed to him?” 

“Please, my lady. I don’t know. They gave me a satchel and said I have to feed it to him continuously or they would kill my family.” The maid wailed. Scuttling forward, she grabbed the hem of the purple-eyed women's dress. 

“Your majesty.” The maid switched her targets. “Please have mercy.”

Erik watched the show from his bed. “Where is the satchel?” He asked.

“Young master, I have taken care of you for the last five years.” 

Was she looking to him to save her life? Wait, five years? “Do you need to know what she gave me to heal me?” He turned to the older mage. 

“No, young master.” The older mage started chanting. The light gave a faint blue glow. He couldn’t help smiling as it moved through him. 

Erik lifted his hands and watched as the light danced over his fingers. It was like static electricity. He moved the energy inside him, trying to amplify the effect. He was so focused that he didn’t notice the shocked looks everyone was giving him.

When the light disappeared, he felt more comfortable. The pain in his stomach was gone. 

The mage grabbed his hand. A panicked look on his face. “What did you do?” The politeness was gone, and there was a manic light in the man’s eyes. 

“What do you mean?”

“My magic, what did you do to it?” The old man was pulled back by the black-haired man. He seemed unwilling, his hands opened and clenched. He reached towards Erik but always pulled back at the last moment.

“It felt nice, so I wanted to increase…, amplify it.” He didn’t oppose the energy but instead forced his magic to match the frequency.

“How can you use magic? How did you do that?” The young mage came closer. He was as frantic as the other mage.

Erik needed to stop his curiosity. He would explore magic after he learned more about this world. “No clue. How old am I?” 

“Twenty.” 

Erik looked at the blond man, his fiancée. He couldn’t help wrinkling his nose. He lifted the blanket. He saw the outline of a penis. “Why are you engaged to me?”

That too handsome face smiled. “You’re engaged to me.” The man corrected.

“Even worse,” he mumbled under his breath. Erik didn’t want to be married into someone else's family. “Who am I?” 

“Erik Von Palmore.” The young mage cut in. 

Erik looked at the man. He made sure his expression expressed that he thought the man was stupid. “Yes, but what does that mean?”

“What happened?” The blond man was always the focus of attention when he spoke. It was clear he had the highest status in the room. 

“Poison fought against poison.” 

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