Chapter 3: The Nooseman

Ark gasped, waking from his nightmare unable to breathe as a vice clenched around his throat.

Struggling, Ark’s body spasmed, his eyes rapidly darting to and fro as he attempted to make sense of his new-found surroundings.

Immediately he tried to rouse his ki, to strengthen his arms and break the rope around his neck, yet try as he might, his body didn't respond.

Shit! Am I seriously about to die again?! Ark hissed internally, his feet furiously attempting to reach out to the thin metal shelves lining each wall.

Finally Ark's foot found purchase, the tip of his black boots just barely grazing the edge of the shelf.

C’mon! C’mon! Ark hissed internally, his eyes bulging, heart-rate pulsing as his vision darkened and his fingers sluggishly dug into the noose around his neck.

*Clang!*

Finally the shelf tipped over, giving Ark a foothold to catch his breath with an audible gasp.

Quickly Ark reached up, removing the rope around his neck with thin trembling fingers that bleed from the blisters bursting from his rope burns.

Ark winced, losing his balance and knocking down another shelf in the process and scattering random jars and brooms about.

“What… what the hell?” Ark murmured, rubbing his head before realizing that his voice came out…

Different.

In fact, his fingers weren't the same that he knew. Gone were the calluses and rough tanned texture of his strong hands, instead, they were replaced by soft unblemished skin that bleed from simply pulling at ropes around his neck.

Ark glanced around, taking in his cluttered enclosure with his eyes darting to the nearby window before he glanced down at his new… form.

He frowned, observing the pristine white uniform with gold buttons and cuffs that adorned his body.

Ark brushed back the hair in his eyes, taking in the coarse feel of unwashed fiber that left black strands laced through his fingers.

That's when he noticed his wrists were scrawny, poking out from his expensive outfit to reveal parts of his emaciated form.

Black not blonde? What the hell am I wearing? Ark narrowed his eyes, attempting to piece together his current predicament when suddenly the door of the closet burst open, casting a blinding ray of light on Ark who moved his hand to shield his eyes.

A moment of silence passed before Ark's eyes adjusted to the light, allowing him to meet the gaze of the white-haired girl wearing a similar uniform as him.

With gold iridescent eyes, soft face, puffy hair adorned with jewels, and body laden with fine metals, the woman before him was a model image of a spoiled noble brat.

She looked down at Ark, then her eyes drifted to the rope dangling from the ceiling and the mess of scattered shelves.

“Pathetic, you can't even kill yourself right,” The girl spat, her narrow face contorting into one of disgust before she turned, walking away on white high heels through the crowd of students that had gathered.

Now Ark sat at a loss for words, attempting to process the turn of events that now involved a dozen sets of eyeballs focused on him.

****

Eventually, four students with white arm bands appeared and grabbed Ark, dragging him from what he came to realize was a janitor's closet of an academy of sorts.

Paraded through the crowd of students, Ark kept his head low, his eyes observing every detail of the red ornate halls he was dragged through until he was pushed past the double doors of a lavish office.

“Sit there,” One of his captors growled, shoving him forward and pointing to the maple-wood chair beside a desk made of solid gold.

With no ki to call upon, Ark stumbled forward, each movement he made sluggish as his new body attempted to heed his commands. He paused, Ark's eyes focused on a nearby gold bust of a stranger that reflected his appearance.

At six feet, clad in white and gold, the visage Ark saw of a black-haired man with thin cheeks and snow-white skin was an image foreign to him.

Stolen novel; please report.

Soliloquy? Is this a part of your schemes? Ark called out yet was greeted with silence. However, it was evidently clear that he was no longer in his body, and judging from the various emblems unrecognizable to Ark, he might not even be in his world.

Had he been played? Sent to a different world again?

No, Ark understood their language, it was Ambrosian. The basic tongue spoken by all countries of El Gia. A language that had been beaten into him to ‘improve’ his efficiency.

So where the hell was he?

Finally reaching the chair, Ark took a seat upon the soft red cushion as the group of white-bands stared at him with an uncomfortable eagle-like focus. In their gazes he saw contempt and disgust, dispassionate expressions that saw him as nothing more than a nuisance.

Another question in Ark's mind, whose body was this and why did everyone hate him?

A few moments of uncomfortable silence passed before the double door slammed opened.

“Leave us,” A balding man in gold-lined archmage robes ordered, entering the room with a clergy woman following closely behind.

“Hospitaller,” Ark muttered, the woman’s robes familiar to him as a member of the Church of the Pyre Heart.

The same church Liliana was a priestess of. Or… had been a priestess of.

Flinching from her touch against his bruised neck, Ark relaxed as the gentle flow of healing magic channeled from the pink-haired priestess and into him.

Enraptured by the memories of his time with Liliana, Ark found himself slow to answer the man snapping for his attention.

“Loyd! Do you realize the stain your selfish action has placed upon this academy?!” The bald man barked, slamming his wrinkled fist against his gold desk.

So this body is named Loyd…

Unsure of what the exact circumstances of his situation were, Ark elected to remain silent while the man fumed and sent the cleric away.

Ark frowned, This boy commits suicide and the only thing he can talk about is this academy's tarnished prestige?

“I have sent for Baroness Fey, who will certainly have choice words for you once she arrives, do you have anything you wish to say for yourself?!”

Once more, Ark remained silent, his eyes more focused on the five ring patterns on the archmage’s cloak.

Six rings, sixth tier.

This man was a talented mage! A step below Merlin even. But if such a mage existed when he was alive then Ark would have been familiar with him.

But he wasn't, so now he had more questions than answers including wondering who this Baroness Fey was.

“Are you daft boy? Answer me! I should have you expelled!”

Ark cast his eyes to the side, his focus on a bookshelf and pondering what knowledge he could gleam from its tomes.

Illicating no reaction from Ark, the archmage sat back in his large leather chair, choosing to scowl at Ark instead of yelling.

Finally the silence was broken by the sound of the doors opening to reveal a tall brunette woman with a gaunt face caked by makeup to hide whatever illness racked her body.

Strolling across the office on black heels, the baroness set off a flurry of alarms that ignited inside Ark, almost as if his body was reacting to the sight of the woman.

Is the host’s spirit still here?

“Baronesses Fey,” The old mage said, not bothering to rise from his seat as he gestured to the adjacent chair beside Ark.

“Headmaster Bruno,” The woman bowed, her voice laced with the hints of the seductress she had once been as she calmly took a seat beside Ark.

“Given the nature of Loyd’s special situation I will cut this short,” Bruno said, his face unable to mask his contempt, “Your charge here attempted to commit suicide by hanging himself in a maintenance closet.”

“What?” The Baroness whispered in disbelief.

Ark studied her reaction, besides the quiver in her voice, slight widening of her eyes and loss of color around her neck, one would almost believe she wasn't disturbed by the news.

“Fortunately he was found by several students including Princess Winterfell.”

PRINCESS?!

Now it was Ark’s turn to lose his composure with his mouth drooping.

There was no Princess of Winterfell, not to his knowledge. Winterfell had only one heir, and that was Roland, the bastard that had betrayed him!

But now there was a princess?

Something was wrong. Something was very very wrong!

“My recommendation is expulsion.”

At the word expulsion Ark’s focus was drawn back in.

“Please, you can't expel him!” The Baroness exclaimed, suddenly rising to her feet as Ark remained numb.

“Loyd doesn't get along with his peers. He's unkempt, failing at magic, and doesn't even possess the capability of utilizing ki. Worse still, this latest fiasco has only driven his and House Fey’s standing further into a downward spiral, not to mention this academy's prestige. Perhaps time away from the academy would do well to ail him,” The Headmaster replied dispassionately.

Can't use ki? Ark inwardly frowned.

“Please reconsider Headmaster, Loyd needs this academy. The crown may have given up on Loyd but I assure you House Fey has not. This was… a lapse in judgement. I beseech you to give Loyd another chance,” The woman said, her hands on the gold desk with her body leaning forward in a manner removed of all dignity of a noble.

“And what assurances can House Fey give to the Rokugin Academy that an incident such as this will not occur again? Please Baron Fey, you must realize the position you've placed me in. It is regrettable enough that he possesses the stigma of being disowned, but would you make this academy his tomb and tarnish this institution as well?”

“I…”

Silence took the room, neither of the adults speaking as Baron Fey’s hands clenched into fists.

“Loyd,” The woman said, her jaw clenching and unclenching repeatedly, “Sir Welkin is outside and will escort you home. We will talk later.”

Without a word, Ark rose to his feet, allowing the pair to discuss the fate of his future as he exited the room, both unaware that the person they were talking about no longer existed.