Estha awoke in the evening the next day. But when she did, she could feel two forces pulling on her soul.

She wasn’t alone.

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Early the next morning, Augustus said not a single word to anyone. Getting dressed and sneaking outside, he took a horse from the stable. The horse he chose was “Dyon”, a tall white horse with a thick neck and braided silver hair that ran along the back of it.

He knew this horse very well–ever since he was a child. Rubbing its nose with his fist was all he needed to calm it down. He took a side track through the neighbouring forest instead of through the main gate.

That way he had a headstart on anyone who tried to track him down, though he doubted that.

They would only think he was going back to school early because he was “angry” after last night.

At the age of 16, one was deemed a grown adult by society. That had passed a year ago still. He could do whatever he wanted and his family would have no say in any of it.

He only went to school because it was “non-negotiable”, otherwise he would be literally disowned.

Last year–or more accurately, before he travelled back in time–he attended school and obeyed his parents.

Today was the second day of the year; the second of the first month. So he had travelled back in time to the first day of the year. It was oddly specific.

Why the first? Why not the seventh, or maybe a few months later instead?

It was not a coincidence.

No one knew anything.

Except him. Only he, Augustus, remembered.

But why him? Trying to find out the “why” to that question would be futile. But it had to have been for a reason.

Rationally, his immediate concern would be to get to the bottom of this “time travel” business, but right now, he was far more occupied with getting revenge.

All he wanted to do right now was defeat Marcus and in turn, regain his honour. He did not want to live his life in fear of someone else. He would defeat him, and then he would deal with his time travel situation.

Augustus rode on horseback, muttering to himself from time to time.

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Sweat covered the wooden floorboards of his room as he held his sword, staring at the wall. To any other person, Augustus looked insane. But from Augustus’s perspective, he was fighting a battle with a demon.

Their aura was suffocating, and their bloodthirst paralysed him.

But Augustus remained standing; he stared back, unwilling to back down and give in to the power and will of his enemy. It was only after three hours of standing like this, staring at his wall that he finally collapsed from exhaustion and dragged himself into bed, satisfied.

He was strong.

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Sleeping at the nearest roadside inn at night and travelling on horse by day, Augustus reached Greyroam after four days of bitter travel.

He arrived at tall stone gates, guarded by plated knights. They had strong, angular cheekbones with thick beards. Imprinted on the chest of their armour was the insignia of Geitwyn, a blue star adorned on the top of a beaming blue star.

They held themselves upright, with broad shoulders, and straight necks. These knights were no pushovers.

“Halt,” A knight stopped him, looking up and down with his hands on his waist.

From behind, two other knights who had been inspecting the cart of a merchant glanced at Augustus out of the corner of their eyes. Augustus jumped off Dyon and kept the reins in a tight fist. He walked over to the knight to get within conversational distance.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Greetings, Sir Knight!” Augustus nodded but inwardly grimaced.

Dealing with guards was a pain.

“Young man, state your name and purpose of entry.”

Augustus replied cordially, “My name is Augustus Light and I have just come back from visiting family. I attend Phel’s Boy School.”

Suddenly, the knight talking to him held the front of his hand to his ear, as if he was hearing something. A blue light shined briefly before dissipating.

“Augustus, you have been chosen for a random inspection. Please follow me immediately,” The knight suddenly asked.

Augustus’s heart skipped a beat.

The two knights behind him had finished their inspection early and were now standing side by side in front.

“Augustus, we don’t mean any harm. We are just following orders. It will only take a few moments of your time, and then we shall send you on your way,” The knight spoke calmly, attempting to ease Augustus’s suspicions.

Augustus didn’t reply. He took stock of the situation, glancing from left to right as he took in his surroundings. The horse would have to go–sorry Dyon. He couldn’t take all 3 of them head-on at the same time. He would have to take a different approach.

By now, he would’ve thought his heart would be beating through his chest and drumming in his ears. But he found that he was relaxed and full of vigour.

He could take them.

Three-on-one?

He smiled, grinning from ear to ear.

Now that he thought of it, this would be good practice.

“Let me through, or you will face my blade,” Augustus unsheathed his sword, eliciting a shing as it slid out of its scabbard. He let go of the reins, allowing Dyon to roam free.

The leading knight was not amused. His face was grave.

“Well, there is no point in continuing with the act. Augustus, your parents have ordered us to find and capture you. They thought you would come here to Greyroam and they ended up being right. If you continue to refuse our orders, then we will have to use force. Do you understand?”

Augustus gripped the hilt of his blade tightly.

God-dammit, Augustus grimaced.

Mother must have sent someone in Greyroam a message with her magic. This was ridiculous.

He was a full-grown adult!

It was whatever, though. These chumps were nothing.

Time to make his great escapade.

He didn’t reply and instead made the first move.

Looking to the left, he misdirected his opponents by running in the opposite direction. His legs exploded forward, his sword at the ready. The knights were caught by surprise.

“You’re courting death!” One of them shouted as all three unsheathed their swords in unison.

One fell back to guard the gate’s entrance, while the other two followed along Augustus’s left and right flank, ready to pounce at any moment.

He made a wide sweeping slash towards the nearest knight. Their swords met, sparks flying.

His opponent had barely seen it coming and only narrowly defended against it. His sword and arm were pressed against his body.

He recoiled from the impact but he regained his footing instantly and came back with even great force, slashing from the direction he was heading in.

Augustus weaved underneath it and rolled… into the space between him and the other knight who was flanking him.

Instinctively, he slashed diagonally. He smiled when he felt his blade connect against another. He weaved his blade underneath and slashed it into his armpit and pulled it back out in one smooth motion.

Pushing the knight to the ground, the knight’s right arm fell limp and his sword clattered to the ground.

On the walls above, several crossbowmen were ready to fire, their eyes squinted, trigger-fingers ready and their aims trained on Augustus.

Captain Gallahd smoked from a pipe as he watched everything unfold.

“Young people sure are a handful nowadays,” he muttered, shaking his head in bewilderment as he witnessed Augustus pull out his sword and push over Jonathan.

He had his men on ceasefire. Augustus was truly no threat, but it was just in case. Augustus sprinted past his defeated opponent, heading straight for the wall.

What is he doing, the second knight thought. He resolved himself. Then he moved in.

You’re Mine! he exclaimed in his head.

Augustus smirked.

Running at the wall full-speed, he ran up the wall a few meters before sending himself back, flying right over the unsuspecting knight.

The knight gawked at him. But only for a brief instance.

He closed the distance in one long lunge. Augustus rolled it off his shoulder with his sword, acting as a shield.

Augustus retaliated, aiming straight for the neck. The knight caught it with the back of his gauntlet, reflecting it. Augustus, close enough to feel the knight’s breath, kicked him, sending him rolling back.

The knight guarding the gate didn’t stay still, however. Augustus pivoted in time to dodge the blade heading straight for him. It skimmed the hairs on his head, shaving off a few hairs as he ducked.

Augustus smiled. He loved it. It was so much fun.

Reacting instantly, he gave a curdling warcry and closed the distance between himself and his opponent who was severely off balance from his heavy slash. Almost hugging him, he stabbed his sword into their armpit. It went deep and almost popped out the other side.

Easy pickings. I’m coming for you; Marcus, Augustus thought, high and confident after his success in battle.

He stormed through the gate, and to his surprise, found no blockade of guards barring the way or anyone else coming down to stop him. Strange.

Sprinting through the gate’s underpass and into the city, he looked back just in case and saw that no one was following him. Not even the crossbowmen. It was as if they had forgotten about him.

Even so, he wouldn’t stop. If they weren’t coming after him and had instead given up, that was better.

He continued along the main street and as he began wading into thicker parts of the bustling crowd, an elderly man stood in his way, hunched over and seemingly staring into thin air.

Thinking nothing of it, apart from an annoyed shake of the head, he went around him.

Yet just a couple of steps later, his right hand was pulled back, as if it was hooked onto something. Falling back from the sudden rebound, he fell to the ground like a ragdoll.

His hand held up in the air, he looked up to the grinning face of that very elderly man who he had dismissed. His cheeks were rosy red and his eyebrows thick.

As for his hand, it was chained up in a magical blue cuff that was also connected to…

His hand.

Jumping to his feet, Augustus pulled against the chain with the entirety of his upper body. The chain remained strong, nor was his pull even powerful enough to move the old man.

“Get me out of this!” Augustus pushed against the old man.

He gave the chain several more tugs in succession but it remained futile. Augustus stopped and stared into the old man’s eyes.

“Old man, what are you doing?” Augustus gritted his teeth, looking at the magical blue cuffs with disdain.

The old man laughed, “Capturing you of course Augustus. What a silly question to ask!”

Augustus pursed his lips. He wanted to threaten the old man with his life so badly but couldn’t do it.

Unfortunately, this was enough time for the three knights to catch up. Well, sort of. They looked very different to how Augustus remembered. He was only fighting them about thirty seconds ago. Illusion magic?

What had been the weathered faces of veterans had turned into that of three naive young men, their eyes innocent and faces unblemished.

“Klocach, we–”

The old man named Klocach interrupted the knight who was about to speak.

“Don’t mind it–”

Augustus attempted to cut off the chains with a fierce swing. The blade, however, merely bounced off. Augustus was speechless.

“–This wastrel I’ve caught here is a complete maniac. If he had succeeded in pulling me over, I could’ve fallen and broken a few bones. Best I keep him in these chains until we reach the barracks,” Klocach said.

To Augustus’s annoyance, Klocach suddenly poked him in the shoulder with a mocking grin that spread from ear-to-ear.

“You’re not going to make a fuss, are you?” Klocach asked.

Suddenly, something clicked in Augustus’s mind. He didn’t hesitate.

Augustus swept the old man off his feet and ran off.