Failed Son

“Vampires and demons? Does that mean there are werewolves, too?” Lawrence already knew the answer, 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 Pantheon of Principles rules the world…then perhaps one is responsible for my transmigration as Lawrence. That’s if they exist, at least. 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 Divine Towers of The Gods. 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 swordsmen and mages 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 transmigration 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, focusing more intensely, but it yielded the same result. There wasn’t a point in trying a third time.

Lowering his hand and sighing, 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.

“Incantation-less magic, I think? I’m not entirely sure…” 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. “And incantation-less? Is that impressive?”

It certainly sounded impressive…

“Indeed. It’s rare to come across mages who can wield magic without chanting. I've only met two in my lifetime, so I can’t be sure if what you did was that.”

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…

He knew he wouldn’t get the answers to his long list of questions, so he set them aside for now. If he could use magic without an incantation and master it, he would be ahead of the game to protect himself if that shadowy creature ever returned. Lawrence shuddered in fear, thinking of the possibility.

“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 his eyes.

…

Just as the sun began to set, they arrived outside a large mansion made of dark wood with tan accents.

An iron fence with stone pillars surrounded it as support. The front yard was a burgeoning garden with rose bushes. Dozens of vibrant-colored flowers inhabited the yard, like something you’d see in Heaven.

“This is your home, the residence of the Blackwood Family.”

“My…home…?”

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 around in the garden to see what the commotion was about. It was slightly awkward standing there while this was happening, unsure of how to feel. Looking towards Bernard, the retired knight shrugged, giving Lawrence the silent suggestion of just having to deal with it.

A few minutes later, the maid stepped back and composed herself, straightening out her uniform and expression to be more formal, bowing slightly to Lawrence. “Apologies, Master, I didn't mean to make a scene where everyone could see.”

I’m sure Lawrence meant a lot to her. I felt it was only fitting for her to act the way she did when she believed he was dead, even though he is.

She wiped away the rest of her tears as the rest of the housekeepers gathered at the gate.

Even if I didn’t know how to feel, I felt 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. 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.”

…

After about half an hour, the household doctor, Dr. Kratz, finished his checkup on Lawrence. As the doctor claimed, there was physically nothing wrong with him. While listening the the doctor prattle on about his examination that Lawrence was uninterested in, he looked over at the calendar hanging on the wall, which indicated that today was UCY 665, May 5.

Even the calendar is the same, aside from the year name…

Dr. Kratz theorized that the amnesia was due to smoke inhalation, so there could be slight brain damage. But only Lawrence knew that wasn’t the case.

“I’ll schedule an appointment with a friend who is a specialist in anatomy tomorrow. He’ll be able to see if there truly is any damage.” Dr. Kratz said, finishing writing his notes as he stood up. He let Lawrence go as he wandered the halls of the mansion.

The walls were cream-colored, surrounded by large paintings of his father and supposedly relatives or predecessors. As he ascended the large, curved stairwell, an unfamiliar feeling drew him toward the second floor. The feeling lured him to a particular door.

He gripped the doorknob and opened it, revealing a large bedroom with several rows of bookshelves. On the other side was a neatly made bed the size of two kings with white sheets and pillows.

Slowly stepping inside, he looked around more. He saw a white wooden desk with pictures of his family on it. One in particular was different. It was a picture of him and a girl he hadn’t recognized.

She had black hair and amethyst-colored eyes. They wore similar black and brown uniforms, most likely from school. Her smile shone brightly in the photo, and Lawrence could sense her energy radiating through it, almost like his mother in the picture he’d previously held. Meanwhile, he stood there plain as dirt, aside from the minuscule noble comportment he gave off.

Another picture was of him and the first maid, except he was way younger, maybe when he was eight. She knelt, wrapped her arms around him from behind, rested her chin on his head, and smiled.

Looking back at the bookshelves, stacked with maybe hundreds of books, he was ecstatic. From the memory fragments alone, he could now see how Lawrence was so knowledgeable with his own eyes.

Staring out of the large window, the last of the sun’s light disappeared, and the night took over. He saw the faint shine of stars as the lights of the capital glowed in the distance.

“I’m surprised you could find your room.”

Startled, Lawrence quickly turned to see the first maid standing in the middle of the room. He didn’t even hear her enter.

“So this is mine…” He was glad that she confirmed his suspicions. That unknown feeling he felt earlier had to have been something related to Kaede inhabiting Lawrence’s body, like some unexplained urge.

“You used to be in here and the library all the time, every day when you weren’t helping your father and mother.” She reminisced solemnly, sitting at the edge of the bed and looking around the room.

He awkwardly stood because I didn’t have those memories and hadn’t touched anything to unlock any.

“Because of your amnesia, I’m sure you don’t remember me, but I am Aria Conway, head maid of the Blackwood Household. Also, your primary caretaker.”

He sat beside her, feeling he could get more information about Lawrence by chatting. “Maybe talking about the past could help me recover my memory.”

“Perhaps, alright then.” She looked up at the ceiling briefly, wondering what she could discuss. “It amazes me that I cared for you for your entire life, Lawrence…”

He tried to hide his shock. Aria seemed so young. She had to have cared for him shortly after becoming an adult. “Really?”

“Yes, I was young and stupid, but I cared for you like you were my child because there was something different about you.”

“Something different…?” He furrowed his eyebrow in response, hoping she would elaborate.

She slowly nodded her head, a genial smile appearing. “The Blackwoods had a certain darkness within them, but you were without that. You were genuine, carefree, and most of all, determined and never gave up in the face of setbacks.”

“What do you mean by darkness within my family?”

“Well…I should not talk badly about the deceased. Still, every member of the Blackwoods and the extended family seemed to have some malicious secret they kept hidden, especially your oldest uncle.”

Secret, huh…? I’m curious now.

“What do you think it could be?”

“I’m not sure. The best chance you’d have to find what you’re looking for is in the basement of this place; however, your father had long hidden the key.”

What could be in this basement? This family becomes a stranger by the second. What did I get thrown into?

“I see, thank you, Aria.” He set his hand on hers and gave her a gentle grin.

“Of course, will you sleep now? I’m sure you’re exhausted. I suggest eating something since you’ve been gone for three days.”

Had I been gone for that long? Bernard didn’t tell me that…but I don’t feel hungry.

“I’ll be sure to eat a big breakfast first thing tomorrow.”

She nodded, satisfied with his answer, and left the room after saying farewell.

After the door closed shut, he attempted to stand up, but a wave of exhaustion hit him, forcing him back onto the bed. “Body must hate me, haha…”

He thought it was best to rest and wait for the next day. Only a little good would come from trying to do anything right now. Haste makes waste, as the saying goes.

Sighing slightly, he scooched over to the other side of the bed and slid his kukri under the pillow. Tossing his tattered shirt to the side and getting under the covers, he rested his head against the soft, fluffy pillow and stared at the ceiling.

“There’s no way this was a dream. All of this was too surreal. Something caused my transmigration…that Divine Tower Bernard spoke of, speaking with the supposed “gods” of this world, I’m not so sure I can hop on the idea of the divine just yet.”

A side of him wished it was all a bad dream and that Kana had murdered him, never to be found. Despite their differences, even as friends, he couldn’t believe there was a side of her he didn’t know.

“I wish I could go back and ask her why…no use thinking about it now.”