Chapter 5
[Embercrown 10th (10/8), Year 1356 of the Arcane Calendar]
5:00 PM |
-
-
[ Lunthaler manor, Garden]
The lie sat bitter on my tongue, like over-brewed tea. Kyzen's engagement to Selene was another minefield in this unfamiliar life—one that twisted my stomach earlier when Lena's betrothal came up at dinner. I should've expected it; by seventeen, noble engagements were common.
Diana's expression shifted, her head tilting slightly, as if something had just clicked."Ah… have things between you and young Selene been strained lately?"
Kyzen's memories told me the truth—their bond was never romantic. It was cold, distant. More master and servant than anything else. And strangely, that was a relief. If Selene had truly cared for him, this charade would've been harder to keep.
"I wouldn't say our relationship is particularly good or bad," I said, keeping my voice even, steady as stone. Diana exchanged a glance with Calix. Worry flickered in her eyes. No wonder. Kyzen had never told them how lifeless things with Selene really were. He kept that locked up, just like everything else.
Kyzen grew up under crushing pressure. Always chasing a better version of himself, yet dragged down by an inferiority complex that never let him rest.
To the world, he looked perfect: head high, voice steady, confidence polished like a noble's armor. But when he was alone, the cracks showed.
He was sharp in theory, brilliant, dazzling his teachers with answers.
But combat was his curse.
Sword drills left him clumsy, with swings that were heavy and off-target. Each failure chipped away at him. I have to be better, his memories whispered over and over, a chant born of fear that now echoed in my chest.
He wasn't weak, not truly—just painfully average when everything was measured together: spellcraft, swordplay, and the high standards of the noble families. And Kyzen wasn't from just any family. He belonged to one of the great Fifteen, bloodlines said to descend from the favored of the gods.
The cruelest part? Calix and Diana would've loved him regardless. He knew that deep down. But knowing and believing were two different things. Every time Calix praised another boy's spellwork, or Diana admired a knight's swordsmanship, Kyzen's chest tightened until he could barely breathe.
Next time, he'd whisper. Next time, I'll make them proud.
So he buried himself in books—history, theory. If he couldn't shine with strength, then he'd shine with knowledge. If he couldn't be the sword, he'd be the foundation everyone leaned on.
At thirteen, I'd have been stealing sweets without a care. Kyzen? He carried legacies, contracts, and chains he never asked for. It wasn't just an inferiority complex that forced him to grow up too fast.
It was all because Selene.
And now I am saddled with that weight. When Kyzen uncovered Selene's true nature, he withdrew completely—not in anger, not in defiance, but in that quiet, self-effacing way of his, as if he weren't worthy of causing the slightest ripple. This fool, I thought. Too much love can turn into poison for some. Calix and Diana only ever craved his happiness. Why couldn't he see that? Why did he shun their warmth like some undeserved handout? Calix himself had defied tradition, choosing love over political gain when he married Diana,
ugh, I thought mom and dads is romance is too much, but Calix and Diana is a level more; I don't care for love stories, but the point is—their union was a rarity among nobles, a beacon of genuine affection over cold pragmatism. Yet their son, their precious Kyzen, couldn't grasp this simplest truth: that he was loved unconditionally.
The garden's stillness sharpened my resolve to bridge that chasm. After a moment of silence, I offered them a reassuring smile. "It's just because of the final exams. We barely had time to see each other. I guess... I'm just nervous about meeting her again after so long." Diana exhaled softly, her shoulders easing.
"Oh, my love..." She reached out, her hand warm against mine.
"You know you can always talk to me. No matter how grown you think you've become, you'll always be our son. We'll always be here for you—never doubt that."
Giving her a nod, I murmured, "Thank you, Mother," then turned to Calix, who appeared relaxed and happy, his black eyes gleaming with serene authority. "Actually, Father, there was another matter I wanted to discuss," I said, my voice steady but laced with a hint of unease.
Calix's brow lifted, curiosity and surprise dancing in his gaze—Kyzen rarely asked for anything, a rarity that lent weight to the air between us. "Could I choose a family artifact?" I asked, the words slipping out with a nervous edge.
He froze a new expression to even kyzen, stunned, the teacup in his hand trembling as a soft clink echoed against the saucer.
These past few days, from the murmurs and curses echoing in my mind, one thing was clear: whatever force pulled me here wants me to claim an artifact from the family's collection.
Calix sank into deep thought, his sigh heavy with deliberation. "I will consider it," he said at last, his voice measured.
"Thank you, Father," I replied, bowing my head slightly.
"Brother!" Lisa's voice rang out as she spotted me from a distance. "Come, come—I have something to show you!" she called, grabbing my hand with a tug sanctioned by Mom and Dad. I waved back at them, catching the amused expressions on their faces as she pulled me away.
-
-
-
[Lunthaler manor, private training ground]
The next two days, I made Charles wake me up earlier than usual so I could just train my new body, the simple running, push-ups, ps practicing the different types of magic kyzen could use and their different application. The information I could gain from the library only helped me with the basic knowledge of this world didn't give me much information.
And to be completely blunt, I don't like reading that much.
Huff...huff...
Collapsing on the floor, sweat dripping from my body and soaking my shirt, I realized Kyzen's body isn't bad, but he needs to eat more. From his memories, I realized he usually arrived late or skipped meals quite often.
swish
I picked up a towel and, wiping myself with it while quenching my thirst with some water, doubts filled my head.
I had one more day until I leave. I wonder if Calix would grant me permission to go through the family's collection.
Shh... H e k z z W... ill k z z...
Yeah, of course you know.
The murmurs, day by day, collectively started to make sense of what it was trying to say. It was my contractor, or something, and his name was Cornelius.
He explained that he was not evil and basically his guide, or something—I didn't understand what he meant.
But I remained guarded, not knowing when or what would happen, and who would trust someone who whispers in your ear, "Believe me, I'm not evil; I'm just going to stay in your body"?
-
-
-
After a refreshing bath
I pulled for Anna to come.
I needed to discuss with Anna what to pack, if I had any important items outside the normal requirements.
Charles came in, knocking at the door. I just nodded—it was getting exhausting replying every time, "You may enter, you may leave," sigh.
"Young Master, the Baron requests your presence in the heritage block."
In amusement, I thought, I guess you were right, Cornelius.
"Charles, help Anna with anything she needs for my leave to Celestria."
"Yes, Master," he replied, going to Anna. From a distance, I enjoyed Anna's shock, flush, and just her mixed emotions.
Evie and I loved watching people act stupid and all flustered; we had one thing in common—a laugh for cliché romance—and would always make comments when these types of scenes would play on the movie, while Mom and Dad were genuinely engrossed in the romance.
Walking through the hall, I thought about the outside world—how, through the years, magic was the norm for everyone.
But it was changed by greed, a sin every human, or should I say most beings, are bound to, yet the sin itself has no bounds.
Humans delved into science, wanting more, and that's how, in recent years, we've entered the beginning ages of the fantasy steampunk era.
Reaching the heritage block, the knights seemed already informed of my arrival—they didn't question my presence, though only the head was permitted to enter. My common knowledge nearly betrayed me, urging my left hand to salute them like some army unit, but I settled for a smile instead. The guards shifted uncomfortably at my smile, though they nodded in response, their unease palpable.
Oh, right—I'd forgotten that among those who knew my personality, my smile was familiar.
But I recalled the reactions of strangers who'd seen it; they'd warned me against it, not because I couldn't shape it properly, but because the way it paired with my icy, silver hair and deep, dark eyes sent chills down their spines. Most had whispered to Kyzen, "Creepy" or "scary," a judgment that lingered until they grew accustomed to my true nature.
Through the door to the building, I spotted Calix waiting before a wall that resembled a vault gate, its metallic surface glinting ominously. More guards flanked the sides, their presence a silent wall of steel. As the door creaked open, announcing my entry, he gestured me forward with a curt nod. I inclined my head, bracing myself for whatever lay ahead.
His voice cut through the air, tinged with a cold edge: "I have one question: do you respect this family legacy and care deeply for it?"
The query hit me, a subtle hammer questioning the fragile wall shielding me from the fact that I was a fraud. The bitter truth gnawed at me, but I didn't care that much. Part of me longed to stay detached, and heading to the academy was one reason to keep my distance.
But... even as an imposter soaking up their kindness meant for someone else, free of charge, I couldn't shake it. I'm one who always pays back a debt.
I replied with a proud expression, my voice steady. "I do respect this family."
Calix's face softened, the stern look fading as he pressed his warm palm against the cold metallic surface.
After a few seconds of heavy silence, the air was still quiet,
Creak...
The wall split, sliding inward with a low groan, light spilling in slowly, casting a soft glow and a faint dusty smell into the room.
Remember, even though there are artifacts labeled as Angel rank, they're just ordinary weapons, nothing special, no divine spark to boast about.
His words needed no explanation; the one thing setting the Noctis bloodline apart from the other twelve was no grand pride.
It was a problem. Precisely that. Two other bloodlines shared this same burden.
For many centuries, the Noctis line had borne no visions, no blessings—only a deafening silence from their patron deity. No one in their branch could wield the bloodlines' power, not since their first inheritor,r Kryon.
Skeptics sneered that Noctis was a fraud, that their bloodline carried no divine favor. Only the sworn testimony by the blessed of other deities kept those rumors at bay—proof enough of Noctis' existence, yet not enough to lift their tarnished standing.
The king's family, at least, offered the shield of a Count's title—a political mercy, a flimsy hedge against the vultures circling a supposedly godless house. The true question burned deeper: If Noctis exists, why abandon them when they craved divine intervention most?
The deities maintained a perfect silence on this matter, as if some celestial decree sealed their lips about the six absent gods. Alongside Noctis, two other deities had severed ties with their bloodlines, leaving their chosen families in quiet agony. But those two families have re-emerged about two centuries from now, their resurgence a faint whisper of hope.
The followers never dared question divine judgment and just rejoiced. So, the people bowed their heads, swallowing their doubts like bitter medicine, and called it wisdom.
| Dairy entries |
---
Embercrown 10th, Year 1356.
I got a new hobby, it's staring at my face for a while, and I found out Kyzen had a weird kink, but it wasn't his fault, the... I don't blame him.
Turns out, reflections are passageways between the Spirit Realm and the Mortal Realm. Special mirrors, crafted from a unique, shimmering, and rare material, make travel between realms safer for spirits. These mirrors are the go-to choice because they're the least risky way to cross over, unlike regular mirrors. There is an exception for contracted spirits: they can move between the two realms as long as the person's spiritual energy hasn't dried up.
Regular mirrors just don't work because they aren't reflective enough to capture even a person's soul-sphere. Don't know how this even works, but it's not like everyone knows how everything in the world works anyway.
The safety of traveling between realms depends on how a reflection can mirror one's spirit. Normal mirrors lack this property, but areas rich in spirituality—take, for example, a polished stone soaked with spirituality -can offer reflective surfaces for travel.
Still, it's incredibly dangerous; the journey might damage a person's spirit-soul. The S.R.R. (Safe Reflective Rating) is 80, and anything below that is a risky gamble.
---