Emma Shaw - Part 1

He heard someone knocking on the door. 

"Come in," he called out, without thinking much.

A maid entered. She looked to be in her thirties. He'd never been to a maid cafe, but looking at her uniform, he figured it must be something similar. The maid narrowed her eyes, as if looking at something disgusting.

Maybe I stared at her too much, he wondered.

"Yes, what is it?" he asked.

The maid bowed. "The patriarch has asked for you in his study immediately."

"Why?" he blurted out, not really expecting an answer.

"I don't know the details. I was only asked to call you."

"Okay, I'll be there."

The maid left as quickly as she came.

It was apparent why the patriarch called for "Hemal": he wanted to know what had happened and who was behind it. 

But I've already told them what little I know, Hiroto thought, a knot forming in his stomach. 

So, why is he calling me now?

Hiroto didn't know what to expect. 

What if his father was behind his assassination? What would I do then? I'd be walking straight to my demise. 

He shook his head, forcing away the irrelevant worries. He decided to act as Hemal and focus on returning to his own body.

While walking towards his father's study, he glanced out a window. He saw many soldiers wielding swords, shields, and spears. 

Who uses swords and spears in today's day and age? he wondered, a fresh wave of confusion hitting him. 

Hemal's incomplete memories offered no answers. Passing through the hallway, he reached the study. He stood before a large wooden door, took a moment to compose himself, then knocked. 

"It's Hemal," he announced.

After a moment, a voice called out from inside, "Come in."

He opened the door. He first noticed a man seated at a grand desk, surrounded by numerous papers. He wasn't paying any attention to Hemal, seemingly absorbed in his work. The study was expansive, furnished with a plush sofa set for guests, towering bookshelves filled with volumes, and many strange pieces of equipment whose purpose Hiroto couldn't discern.

He walked over and stood before the man. Without looking up, the man finally spoke, his voice deep and detached, "Tell me, what happened."

Hiroto wasn't sure what to say or how much to reveal. Regardless, he recounted everything from start to finish: how unknown people chased him, Captain Hawk's involvement, the order for his death, and his miraculous survival.

The entire time, his father's pen never stopped writing. When Hemal stopped talking, the room was engulfed in silence. Hemal stood there, unsure of what to do.

Finally, the pen stilled. His father looked at him, truly looked at him, for the first time. His eyes held a deep, weary emotion—eyes that had seen too much. Hemal understood then that there was nothing in his heart for his son. This was just a formality.

"So, you are saying that Captain Hawk is involved in this incident?" his father asked, his voice flat.

Hemal nodded wordlessly.

His father neither denied nor affirmed the claim. After sighing, his father finally spoke, his voice heavy with disappointment. 

"Why were you out in the first place?"

Why was I out? Hiroto thought it was a valid question, but he didn't know how to answer it. Hemal would have known, but Hiroto was completely unaware.

"And going out to the Dead Lands of all places," his father continued, a hint of accusation in his tone.

Dead Lands? Is that what that place is called? A sudden realization dawned on Hiroto, but he didn't know how to feel about it.

"I don't remember why I went out. My memory is a little foggy," Hiroto mumbled, trying to sound convincing.

His father glared at him. 

"Don't you remember you were under house arrest until the case with your fiancée was resolved? Were you trying to run away after what you had done? After denying it so many times, you show me this?"

What is he talking about? Fiancée, case, runaway? Hiroto's mind reeled. He wasn't sure what was going on, but according to the fragments of Hemal's memory he possessed, he understood he had been thoroughly set up.

Hemal was indeed a pitiful child, suffering within his own house. Yet, he was never inclined towards suicide. Why? The reason was his fiancée, Emma Shaw. Whatever others would say about him, she always had his back; she was his only comfort.

Then, something happened just a few days before the incident in the snow.

It was just like any other day. He was with Emma in his room, telling her everything that had happened to him in the past few days. Emma listened, a cup of tea in her hand. Suddenly, she put down the teacup and stood up. Hemal, surprised, stopped talking.

Emma looked at him, then at the table. A small knife, used for peeling fruit, lay there. Still looking at Hemal, Emma took the knife and measured its sharpness. Then, to his horror, she started making cuts on her shoulders and arms.

Hemal, shocked, sprang into action, trying to snatch the knife from her. 

"What are you doing, Emma? Stop!" he cried. 

He somehow managed to take the knife from her hand, but it wasn't over.

"Why are you—" 

Before he could ask anything, Emma swiped the other items on the table, sending everything crashing to the floor with a loud noise. Because most of the utensils were made of glass, shattered shards littered the ground.

"What is happening?"

The guards outside the door were startled by the commotion and swiftly entered the room. They found Hemal standing there, holding the knife, while Emma lay on the ground, bleeding. Hemal was immediately accused of attacking Emma and put under house arrest until the investigation concluded.

Back in the present moment, as Hiroto replayed these agonizing memories, a sudden, immense pressure brought him sharply back to reality. It became difficult for him to breathe.

What is this? Hiroto thought, his mind reeling.

"What are you spacing out for?" his father's voice cut through his daze.

Hiroto looked up, and his eyes widened in disbelief. His father was covered in a gray aura, an ethereal shroud that pulsed around him. He could see something distinctly gray pressing down on him, restricting his movements and making breathing difficult or even stirring. And the source of this suffocating pressure, this gray aura, was unmistakably his father.

Seeing Hiroto's dumbfounded expression, his father seemed to realize the pressure he was exerting. Suddenly, the oppressive weight lifted, and Hiroto could move again, gasping for air.

"Go to your room and don't come out unless asked," his father commanded, his voice cold once more.

Hiroto bowed, his mind racing, and quickly exited the room. 

He reached his room without any further incident. He sank into a chair, his mind reeling as he tried to comprehend what he had just witnessed. 

Is that gray aura something like a psychic ability?

He looked at his own hand, then closed his eyes and extended it, focusing intensely. Suddenly, he opened his eyes and clenched his fist as if gripping something invisible. He was aiming at a book on the nearby table, slowly lifting his hand, willing it to rise.

Nothing happened. The room remained exactly as it was. The book stayed firmly on the table. He slowly retracted his hand, a flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck.

"Right, how could that be real?" he muttered, trying to consolidate himself. But he couldn't deny what he had seen back in the patriarch's study. One thing was sure: he wasn't on Earth anymore. This was definitely someplace else, or someone was playing an elaborate prank on him. Yet, that didn't explain the body he was in, or the memories he now possessed. Something truly supernatural was at play here.

No wonder I couldn't find a phone in this house, and why everyone is armed with such ancient weapons. 

But that wasn't the only problem here. When his father had asked him why he was out, a sudden, horrifying realization struck him, though he dared not voice it aloud. 

After the incident with his fiancée, Emma, he received a message from her. The message had asked him to come to the Dead Lands. Hemal knew it wasn't the right thing to do, but he was desperate to save his little comfort. He didn't want to lose the last support he believed he had. That, Hiroto now understood, was why Hemal had been abandoned in the snow.

Does that mean Emma was behind his assassination? Hiroto wondered, a cold dread creeping in. What's the connection between Captain Hawk and Emma, then? What would Emma gain after killing him? 

He was still missing so many pieces. She could have just told him if she wasn't happy with the marriage. Hemal would have definitely helped her. 

But was it really her?... No, I shouldn't draw conclusions yet, he decided, forcing his racing thoughts away from the baffling betrayal. 

He needed to focus on other, more immediate and essential things. Things like where he was—this strange, new world. What was that gray power his father wielded? How had he, Hiroto, even come to be here in Hemal Rodrick's body, and, most importantly, how could he return?