Failed Son

In the half hour they’d walked, Lawrence had noticed the sickly smell of rot lingered in the air, no matter how far away from Leidhal he’d walked always remained around him.

Along the path leading to the capital were mutilated corpses of animals that appeared to have been slain by wild beasts and humans alike. Crowds of flies swarmed the bodies as the stench of death grew stronger as Lawrence passed by them, forcing him to cover his nose or risk throwing up on the side of the path.

A few more minutes passed, and they’d come across a desecrated caravan. Dried blood was splattered all across its wooden beams and torn cloth roof with several jagged slashes. There were two mangled corpses, one lying face down in the middle of the path, and the other in the driver’s seat, slumped over with a large bloodied gash in his throat.

Lawrence grimaced at the scene. Despite the horror, he was unable to look away.

Bernard took notice and said in a solemn tone, “This is the world we live in. To those who live within the confines of the stone walls, they pay no heed to the violence perpetrated outside. It all doesn’t matter until that violence follows them inside…”

The two crested the hill that overlooked the capital city in the distant that was large enough to be a small country. Tall stone walls surrounded it like an impenetrable fortress. Only two large gates were visible from the side the stood. Around the walls was a wide moat. Connecting the outside world to the gates were large wooden bridges.

Despite the dark aura that encompassed the world, the lush landscape of trees, towering mountain range in the distance, with waterfalls, took Lawrence’s breath away.

As a stark contrast, a gigantic city surrounded by tall stone walls that stretched for dozens of kilometers. Thousands of buildings inhabited the area within the walls, with a palace on a small hill overlooking the town. Next to it, two humanoid statues stood, one with a sword plunged into the ground and the other with an open book.

“Whoa…”

Bernard’s bag stopped jingling as he turned around. “Seeing the capital isn’t bringing back any memories?”

Lawrence shook his head no solemnly, playing along with his story. The retired knight quietly sighed before they resumed their journey. It was still quite a way away. From where they were, Lawrence could see the long dirt path to the front gate. Some travelers were as small as ants.

“So, what are those statues?” The young man asked, breaking the brief moment of silence as they descended the hill.

“The founders of Exalta more than a thousand years ago were Cain and Abel.”

Those two names were the same as those of two prominent figures in Abrahamic faiths, so this world does share parallels with the Old World. But how?

“Abel founded our dear Agarian Church to help those in need of assistance, and Cain created the World Sentinels to protect the people from the world’s darkness. Eventually, both the Church and the Sentinels became united and created the Holy Venator Order, a more centralized group to kill demons and vampires.”

Demons and vampires?! So, those things exist here? He folded his arms and fell into a deep thought as he walked silently behind Bernard.

In most transmigration stories, the main character usually talks to some deity to explain everything, but of course, that unfortunately would make things too easy…I suppose it doesn’t matter now, but three main questions keep popping into my head: How did I get here when I died, and why? What happened to the Blackwood family? And what was that creature he saw in Lawrence’s memories? So, I guess four questions technically.

A caravan that carried about a dozen large wooden barrels in the back passed by as the pair exchanged greetings with the driver.

With any luck, I’ll find more of what I need to know if I go back to Leidhal, but I don’t think I’m in any position to do that right now.

“Vampires and demons? Does that mean there are werewolves, too?” Lawrence already knew the answer from the memory fragments, but he wanted to see if Bernard would be wholly veridical.

“Indeed, under the Principle of Perception, Enkiddu, many sentient and non-sentient beast species exist, such as demihumans, vampires, werewolves, dragons, that sort.”

“Principle of Perception…like a God?”

“Yes, the Seven Principles, who oversee the races, govern the world. Assiah of Humanity, Sekina of The Giants, Gevurah of The Demons, Yesod of The Elves, Elyon of The Angels, Enkiddu of The Beasts, and Keter of The Undead.”

If this supposed Pantheon of Principles rules the world…then perhaps one is responsible for my transmigration as Lawrence. That’s if they exist, at least. I’m sure they’re powerful leaders revered as gods.

Through his doubts about the existence of divinity, a question escaped his lips. “Is there a way to communicate with these Principles?”

Bernard stopped and pointed in the direction of something in the distance to their left. Lawrence squinted his eyes hard to try to see what he was referring to.

After a few seconds, he made out a small pillar-shaped structure, almost a shadow from this distance.

“The Consecrated Inverted Spire in Steamwallow. Ascend them, and the Principles will grace you with their presence. Or so the legend goes.”

“How far is it-“

The retired knight held a hand before Lawrence, cutting him off. “The Towers have a trial to test those who wish to talk to the Principles. Only the strongest warriors can pass it. Unfortunately for you, that won’t be possible.”

His immodest statement nearly offended Lawrence, but he was sure he had a reason. He didn’t seem to make bold claims for no reason.

“What do you mean?”

The retired knight stared at Lawrence almost pitifully before his mouth opened slightly to speak. “Lawrence Blackwood…is known as the Failed Son of the Blackwood Family because he couldn’t use magic, unlike his prodigal father.”

Couldn’t use magic? That seems odd, especially with the years of magic knowledge he knew now imbued in me…Lawrence was skeptical of such a claim, especially given the vast amount of knowledge his predecessor possessed.

“Allow me to try to use magic.”

I wonder if things will be different because I transmigrated into Lawrence’s corpse, but I need to know what I’m capable of as soon as possible.

“Hmm…” Bernard pondered, caressing his beard with his hand as he ruminated. After a few seconds, he unhooked the lamp from his side and set it on a log slightly off the path. “Although your father was a master of all the Traces, Infernidius was his best, so try to light this lamp using a spell.”

“Okay.” Lawrence approached the lamp, focusing on it. He dug through his memories of everything he’s read on casting spells, recalling one grimoire from a mage in the Hastecia state specializing in Infernidius magic.

Holding his hand before the lamp, he slowly inhaled and pursed his lips briefly. “Oh, Autumn Flame, grant my burdens a fiery wallow. Ignite.”

Nothing happened after a few seconds had passed. Lawrence chanted it again, with greater intensity, but it yielded the same result.

He concentrated intently on the lamp, visualizing the words of the chants as he repeated them.

“Oh, Autumn Flame, grant my burdens a fiery wallow. Ignite!”

A red and orange magic circle formed in front of his hand, and the lantern exploded, sending dozens of glass pieces flying everywhere, forcing him to shield his face with his arm and close his eyes.

“Water Bubble!” Bernard cast an Aquaiem spell, preventing the explosion and glass from flying out further before they dispelled and splashed onto the floor.

“W-what did I just do…?” Lawrence composed himself after the fragments from the explosion failed to connect with him.

“Well, I’ll be damned, you can use magic…” Bernard inferred.

“That…was magic?” Lawrence was pretty dumbfounded because he didn’t know what to expect. He didn’t feel anything, or maybe he didn’t know what to feel or look for.

“Now you’re a budding rose basking in the light of the Goddess. With any luck, in due time, you’ll be able to manifest spells in single chants.”

Bernard manifested a tiny orange flame in the palm of his hand, which glowed slightly. “Even I can only manifest mana this much without an incantation.”

As far as I know, the original Lawrence couldn’t use magic, as Bernard stated. I would need to investigate Lawrence’s life further. However, despite being magicless, for some reason, he seemed to be at the forefront in the shadows of whatever was going on. Being targeted by someone or something, and his body was what I transmigrated into. It all seemed too coincidental…

“Do you think you could teach me magic? How to further wield what I’m capable of…?”

It almost seemed awkward to ask, but it was a risk I’d have to take.

The flame in the older man’s hand dissipated as he lowered his arm to his side, pondering the question for a few seconds. “Sure, I’m intrigued by how you can use magic in the first place. Must be a late bloomer.”

“Haha, maybe…” Lawrence shared an awkward chuckle with the retired knight.

“Now come on, let’s get to the capital. It’s almost sundown.” He motioned, and the pair walked in the direction of the lustrous capital city.

Lawrence didn’t even realize it, but he was correct. The sun was nearly hidden over the horizon as he looked at it briefly, squinting into the peach-red and orange sky just beyond the mountains behind the capital city.

…

Just as the sun fully set, the pair arrived outside a large mansion made of dark wood with tan accents.

An iron fence with stone pillars supported it. The front yard was a burgeoning garden with rose bushes. Dozens of vibrant-colored flowers inhabited the yard, like something one would see in the Garden of Eden.

“This is your home, the residence of the Blackwood Family,” Bernard revealed, standing next to Lawrence.

It was almost odd to call any place home. In my past life, I rarely considered my house a home. It was just an empty building with my books. It was so quiet most of the time that hearing floorboards creak was abnormal.

Lawrence was amazed by the giant mansion. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen, and being this close to something as resplendent as this almost seemed unreal.

A woman in her early thirties running towards the front gate in a traditional maid uniform, shattered his focus. She hastily undid the latch but struggled because of the metal pail she held in one hand, and eventually opened it. As he gazed at her, she looked concerned and stared at him in shock.

“Master Lawrence! Is that… you…?” She stammered a bit.

“I-”

She dropped the pail as it made a loud sound as it hit the ground, and hugged Lawrence tightly. She began to shake as he heard her sniffling. “I’d heard you and the entire family had perished in that fire…I’m so relieved you’re alright.”

His shirt began to get wet as he saw tears running down her face, continuing to hold him tightly. Stuffing her face into his chest, she cried loudly, her voice only slightly muffled.

He noticed a few other maids crowded in the garden, trying to see what the commotion was about. It was slightly awkward standing there while this was happening, unsure of how to feel.

A few minutes later, the maid stepped back and composed herself, straightening her uniform and expression to be more formal, and bowed slightly to Lawrence.

“Apologies, Master, I didn't mean to make a scene where everyone could see.”

She wiped away the rest of her tears as the rest of the housekeepers gathered at the gate, wearing a mix of shocked and relieved expressions.

Even if I don’t know how to feel, I feel terrible. I wonder how many lives Lawrence’s death affected? How many more will my survival affect? This is harder than I could have ever imagined. The thought expanded in his mind, fully realizing just how out of place he was in this world.

I’m like a temporal disruption…

“It’s alright. To tell you the truth, I don’t remember anything.” He replied awkwardly. Being direct was the right approach, he thought.

“You…you don’t…?” She gasped slightly.

“From what it looks like, he has amnesia, but who knows for how long?” Bernard interjected, stepping forward.

The maid held her hand over her mouth in shock, tearing up again slightly. This time, some other maids rushed to console her. “We should get him to the doctor.”