The wheels of the carriage rattled over uneven ground endlessly, the rhythm so steady that it felt like a clock marking down the hours until his arrival.
It was broken only by the occasional snort from the horses pulling the carriage.
The sound had become so constant over the past three days that it almost blended into the background, like the hum of an air conditioner back on Earth.
But here, with no music, no phone in his hand to distract him, the silence was felt clearly.
Soren leaned against the carriage window, his cheek resting on his knuckles as he watched the scenery crawl past.
The endless fields.
The occasional patch of forest.
Villages blurred past, each one looking almost identical.
Rows of simple houses, a small marketplace, dirt roads winding through fields.
It hadn't started this way.
Stellaris Academy sat at the very heart of the continent, balanced neatly between the three kingdoms.
Its position meant that the royal capitals of each nation were only a day or two away by carriage, and that was the scenery Soren had first seen when his journey began.
Bustling streets, alive with people.
Towering stone buildings with medieval spires.
Bridges and plazas that looked like something straight from a tourist brochure, or a high-budget fantasy film.
Even the way magic was incorporated into daily life through simple things, like streetlamps, left him with a smile.
For someone who had spent four and a half months locked inside the academy city, never once stepping beyond its walls, it had been dazzling.
At the start, he had pressed against the carriage window like a kid, unable to look away.
It was his first proper glimpse of this world beyond the academy gates; he couldn't help but feel a flicker of excitement.
But that awe hadn't lasted long.
A day and a half into the five-day trip, the capital was already far behind him.
The grand architecture was gone, swallowed by farmland and dusty roads that jostled the carriage with every bump.
Of course, as a transmigrator, there was still a part of him that found it fascinating.
Watching commoners haul buckets, children chasing each other barefoot, farmers guiding livestock down narrow paths, all of it was the kind of scene he had only ever read about in novels.
But fantasy or not, repetition dulled the shine.
Another day and a half passed.
Another village.
Another dirt road.
The same thatched roofs, the same wooden fences, the same people doing the same tasks.
The novelty was gone.
Soren let out a sigh, slumping back in his seat.
To put it simply, he was bored.
In fact, it wasn't just boredom; it was also the weight.
The order from Sofia echoed in the back of his mind.
No explanation, no request.
Just words that carried the kind of authority that made refusal impossible.
He sighed once more, turning his head to the other side of the carriage where only empty space stared back at him.
For once, there wasn't Felix's teasing voice, Lilliana's care, or even Esper's stupid antics.
No one.
Just him and his thoughts.
That, more than anything, was what made the ride unbearable.
On Earth, he could have pulled out his phone and scrolled through social media, distracted himself with some random web novel, or texted a friend to pass the time.
At Stellaris Academy, he honestly couldn't remember a single moment when he felt this alone.
For months, he had been surrounded by many people, and it was almost like a dream.
The silence gave his mind too much room to wander.
The "home" he was heading to was not a home at all.
Not for him.
The original Soren's memories weren't there to help; no moments of his childhood to cling to.
Just the small fragments from the book and the occasional outburst of emotions that weren't his own.
That, and the knowledge that his own family found him so disappointing that they had basically disowned him in all but name.
And now he was supposed to stand before them.
His stomach turned as he thought about it, a small wave of anxiety running through his body.
He pressed his forehead to the window, the glass cool against his skin, and closed his eyes for a moment.
He tried to picture the end of summer break, when he could finally see his friends again, when he could feel their warmth once more.
It was still two whole months until then.
It was an agonisingly long time.
For a moment, he even entertained the ridiculous thought of just turning back.
He could train at the academy, occasionally visit Lilliana or Felix to pester them, and take a few quests from the adventurers' guild here and there.
After all, it wasn't like Sofia had openly threatened Soren if he didn't show up.
But he knew better.
He had to learn more about Soren Arden, the boy he had possessed, to keep living in this world.
A short, humourless laugh escaped his lips.
"Just two months…" he muttered under his breath.
He shifted in his seat, his body restless.
His fingers tapped against the wood of the window frame.
The thought of spending time with yet another awful family made his chest feel tighter.
"Just… wrap everything up quickly," he whispered to himself.
Quick in, quick out.
Survive whatever cold words or gazes were waiting for him, then leave.
That was the plan.
He told himself over and over, like repeating it would make it easier, but as the carriage wheels hit another bump in the road, he couldn't shake the unease nestled in his heart.
With no one to distract him, no one to joke or argue with, the silence only felt heavier.
The scenery kept changing outside the window, but inside the carriage, everything stayed the same.
His thoughts circled endlessly, looping back to the same dread-filled destination waiting at the end of the road.
He rubbed his eyes, his vision blurring from staring too long at the same landscapes.
His head felt heavy, weighed down by more than just fatigue.
He knew if he kept thinking, the anxiety would only claw deeper into him.
"Let's just take a nap," he muttered, shifting onto his side and curling against the stiff seat cushions.
The rattling of the wheels and sway of the carriage obstructed his rest, but he still forced his eyes shut.
••✦ ♡ ✦•••
Another day and a half slipped by like that.
With only half a day left until he arrived at the estate, Soren found himself lying flat across the seats again, one arm dangling limply toward the floor, the other crooked beneath his head.
His body was sore from the stiff cushions, and his mind dull from drifting in and out of restless naps.
The steady rhythm of the wheels never stopped, a constant rattle that made it impossible to forget where he was headed.
Outside, another stretch of farmland rolled by, broken only by the occasional cluster of cottages.
He barely even looked anymore.
The boredom was suffocating.
Soren raised his sluggish body from its awkward position and leaned his head against the cheap cushion.
The rough fabric scratched at his cheek.
For a moment, he wondered how many years this carriage had been in service, and how many people had sat in this exact seat before him.
It wasn't hard to guess.
The slightly rotten wood creaked with every bump, the curtains were frayed, and even the smell of horses clung to the air despite the windows being shut tight.
Everything about it screamed second-rate.
Soren gave a bitter smile.
His thoughts drifted back to the moment it had first arrived at the Stellaris Academy gates.
He still remembered the look the coachman gave him.
A single glance, heavy with contempt, as if even the act of opening the carriage door for him was beneath his dignity.
The man hadn't even tried to hide it.
His lips curled slightly, and his narrow eyes, everything about him, made his thoughts clear: 'You are not worth the effort.'
And the carriage itself?
It had been pathetic.
Among the polished, well-maintained coaches that waited in the lot, each one displaying family crests, his carriage had stood out like a piece of rotting wood in a row of polished marble.
The paint was chipped, the once-rich lacquer dulled to a muddy brown.
The wheels wobbled slightly, the wood warped and splintered.
Even the horses looked thin, their manes unkempt.
It was almost impressive in its neglect.
Almost as though someone in the Arden household had gone out of their way to find a carriage this poor in quality.
And then, the whispers.
He had caught them easily, even over the clatter of hooves and the hum of mana-driven carriages preparing to leave.
– Is that really the Arden family's?
– Surely not…
– Look at the driver's face, could the rumours be true?
A few noble students had snickered outright, nudging one another with knowing looks.
Their laughter had followed him as he stepped inside, and though none of them knew the truth, the message Sofia Arden had sent was evident.
It had been humiliating,
The Arden family could have sent an ordinary carriage; even something plain would have gone relatively unnoticed.
But they hadn't.
Instead, they had chosen this broken-down relic, one that creaked with every turn of its wheels, one that bore no crest, no hint of pride or belonging.
It was deliberate.
It was a message.
'You are not wanted.'
'You are not one of us.'
And the servants knew it too.
The way the coachman had sneered, taking every opportunity to treat him like an unwanted burden.
The way he had chosen the worst routes, purposely avoiding the main roads despite the longer travel time.
The way they only went through backwater villages where no one would properly recognise Soren.
As if he were some stain that needed to be hidden away from the eyes of proper society.
Soren had been frustrated at first, but over the course of almost five long days of boredom, his thoughts had mellowed out.
Now he just laughed.
He found it somewhat entertaining the lengths they went to.
As if on cue, the carriage lurched to a stop, the wheels groaning against the paved stone.
The sudden stillness after five days of almost nonstop movement felt unnatural, and for a moment Soren stayed slouched against the seat, eyes half-closed.
Then came the sound of boots striking against the ground, the footsteps heavy and unhurried.
A shadow passed the window, and before Soren could even adjust himself, the carriage door was yanked open with a sharp creak.
No polite knock, no voice calling from the driver's hatch.
Just a blunt intrusion.
The coachman's face appeared in the doorway of the carriage, the same look of disdain he had worn at the academy still plastered across his face.
"We've arrived," he said flatly, his tone stripped of even the most basic courtesy.
The fact that he avoided using Soren's title, and the intrusion into his private space, everything the coachman did made Soren's position all the more evident.
Soren blinked at him, then let out a small chuckle under his breath.
It wasn't amusement so much as recognition.
Of course, the coachman couldn't even be bothered with the simplest manners.
Why pretend, when the message had already been loud and clear from the beginning?
"Figures," Soren murmured, pushing himself upright.
His joints ached from the stiff cushions, but his lips still curled in a faint, bitter smile.
••✦ ♡ ✦•••
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▶ ù̷̥͇̹̽́o̶̜̊l̷̡̔͂̅S̸̥͕̬̔̐́̉̀ͅ ̴̤̝͎̅͐̓̓͝i̸̢̳͙̮͚̽̂ṉ̴̡̧̧͋̅̐e̶̩̓̾̆̀̃g̸̗͌̉̓̑̚r̵̠̠͎̱̟͛̾̚M̵̢̙̣̒͑͂͐g̶̛̪͛̍̀ ȍ̶̠̘̬̳̩͍̣̩̒͗̿̉̀͝f̷̟͊́̉͋̑͑̽̈̕̚͘͘ ̵̛̠̗̞̠̌̀̏͛̈́̒͆̄̄̕ͅͅḮ̴̪͎̙̮̲̳͌̄̒̇̉͆̒͂̊́̓̉s̶̺̭̗͓̯̭̮̜̭͎͍͕͓̏̉̈́̅͌͗̔̏͌̀͋͋̉͜͜a̵̧̘͇̤̻͖̠̮͋͂́̓̓͒͠a̶̦͙̜̜̜͉̝̜̺̓̏͌c̸̰͚͍̺̮͚͚̳̮̥̠͗̀̓̔̐͝ ̴̛̝̥͉̟̓̈́̇͜͝a̷̡̳̮̰̯͍͉̩̮͓͍̥̟͆͐͑͜͜n̴̬̫͇̫̜̘̤̼̾̇̎̏̈͊̀͘͜͜d̶̡͖̤͕̮̯̫̑̇͋̂͒̎͝͠ ̵̢̜͈͔̮̗̝̠̠͚͑̏͜S̶͉͔̬͔̯̊̎͐̔̔͝o̶͖̭̩͂̄̌̍̐͗̅͜͝r̷̡͓̥̦͕̹̯̬̽̾̽͗͂̃̉̽̋̊͛̐̒͝ë̵͇̘̺̮͉̥͈̌̇̋̆̑̕n̷͈̘͚͍̞̹̰̱͈͉̼̘̹͆̑̒̌:̴̻̹͉̌̈́ ̵͖̝̽̂̋̍͌12%̸͉̓͑̈̅͗ ◀
————「❤︎」————