Chapter 6: Acceptance

Training in the yard became more intense.

I no longer stayed in the same posture the entire time. Now I was also forced to strike a straw dummy with my sword in order to feel the impact of the weapon against my wrists.

And just as I expected, it hurt.

My delicate hands were not used to excessive labor, and as a result, they became covered in blisters that had yet to harden into calluses.

I did not progress the way I wanted.

The impacts from the sword were driving me insane, and my wrists screamed every time I struck that damn scarecrow.

Again and again, the pain simply refused to go away.

Sir Marte told me it was natural. Even Alda had needed her hands bandaged during her first months of training.

But for me, the pain was something different…

Because when I saw my hands bleeding from the burst blisters, I could remember the exact moment I died.

How could I have forgotten?

No.

I had not forgotten.

A death like that was impossible to forget.

The feeling of bullets piercing my body. The terror in my throat as I screamed for help that never came.

Everything was still so real, so vivid in my memories, that not even this medieval world could make me forget that nightmare.

Yes…

Until now, I had not felt pain in this new world. Everyone had been kind to me and given me special treatment, not only because I was their king, but also because they were good people.

For that reason, nothing had forced me to remember the fateful instant that ended my previous life.

That was when I understood it.

I hated feeling pain.

Because it reminded me of the helplessness of being murdered.

That day, I kept striking the dummy without flinching at the blood on my palms. I studied in silence without asking questions and remained quiet during dinner.

Mother and Alda talked about their respective days. I simply nodded at them with an empty stare.

Because at that moment, my mind was not here.

It was in Mexico…

Suddenly, someone knocked on the door to my room.

“My son, may I come in?”

Mother’s voice sounded worried. Damn it. I needed to regain my composure so I wouldn’t stress her any further. Acting as regent was an enormous responsibility, and Girasol was fulfilling it to the letter.

“Of course, Mother.”

The wooden door opened softly, and my mother stepped into the room with slow, careful steps. She was already wearing her white nightgown, the typical sleeping attire of noblewomen.

“I saw you a little distracted during dinner today. Are you feeling well?”

“Yes, Mother. My hands are just a little sore. It’s normal to get blisters when you aren’t used to pain. They’ll pass.”

I tried to smile at Mother to take the burden off her shoulders. The last thing she needed was a whiny little child.

However, Mother shook her head and walked over to me.

“I know you well, my son. I know something is troubling you. Why don’t we sit on the bed?”

“Sora will get angry if she sees us sitting there,” I replied without dropping my fake smile.

“Sora is not with us right now. We can break the rules if it is just you and me. Come on.”

“All right. But if she shows up, you’re explaining what happened.”

“Deal.”

Mother and I sat on the edge of the bed. Immediately, the woman with black hair and honey-colored eyes like mine took my hand.

I could feel her delicate fingers caressing my painful blisters.

“Well, the truth is that I feel frustrated because I’m not advancing in my swordsmanship lessons. I understand that I can’t become a true swordsman overnight, but I at least want to stop hitting that stupid dummy and learn a new technique.”

I was not lying.

I hated that damn scarecrow with all my heart. To the point that I wanted to kick it.

“Patience, my little boy. Striking the dummy will soon become part of your daily routine. However, something else is worrying you, isn’t it? I can see it in your eyes. Such sad eyes cannot come from simple frustration, can they?”

“Sad eyes? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That look you have right now. So empty and distant, as if you are not really here.”

Mother let go of my hand and then embraced me gently. I could feel the beat of her heart against my face, along with her warm, kind breathing, which brought me more peace than I wanted to admit.

“I love you, Ulric. You are my son and also my pride. You do not have to hide your pain from me. I want to help you.”

So this was what a mother’s love felt like.

A fragile smile formed on my face.

I returned the embrace, wrapping my weak and aching hands around her.

Then it happened.

Mother gently stroked my head with one hand, while the other continued embracing me, protecting me.

“I… I…”

Finally, I cried.

I let my tears pour freely like two great waterfalls.

“I couldn’t do anything. I failed at everything, Mother. I failed, failed, failed, and nothing I do can ever fix it. I feel like a loser.”

Girasol said nothing. She simply continued caressing me with her beautiful hands.

“I tried. I really tried! Why did that have to happen? I didn’t deserve it! I didn’t deserve it, damn it!”

I let it out.

All my frustration.

All my sadness.

I had been murdered on March 15th, 2023.

My dreams and hopes had been shot down in lead.

Fucking hitmen.

Fucking organized crime.

Goddamn corruption!

I died.

I died.

I died.

I died, and no one saved me.

I had no friends or family. No one cried over my death. No one cared that I died.

Surely I appeared as just another corpse in the local morgue. They probably talked about my murder for a few seconds on the national news, and some social media post must have ruined the afternoon of a teenager looking for memes.

I followed my father’s example.

I lived an honest and honorable life. I never stole from anyone. I never did evil. I wanted to help people, just as he had when he served as municipal president.

And how did it all end?

In a horrible death.

Gunned down in broad daylight, without a patrol car or soldiers there to rescue me.

I didn’t deserve it, fuck!

My dreams.

My future.

They stole everything from me.

I studied political science for five years to improve my skills as a politician. I became a representative at a young age without connections or favors, only with talent and hard work. I had so many plans to make Mexico a better place.

All of it was for nothing.

None of my ideals ever became reality.

I ended up shot full of holes, without love or friendship.

“It’s not fair! AHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

My crying intensified. Tears soaked Mother’s nightgown and wrinkled it from the sheer amount of water falling onto it. Even so, I did not stop. I kept crying and pouring my sadness into her, while her embrace did not lose even a trace of tenderness.

“My son, this pain you feel is not normal.”

Mother gently resumed stroking my head.

“Something happened to you. I am certain of it. Sometimes, I feel as if you are not truly here, as if your mind is somewhere very far away, somewhere I will never be able to reach.”

I did not answer her.

My eyes could barely focus, and my throat hurt from screaming so much.

How did she know?

How could Mother know about my pain?

I had never known maternal love in my previous life, so this kind of affection still felt foreign to me.

An old saying claimed that mothers had a certain supernatural ability to detect the pain and suffering of their children, because they were born connected by a bond that not even death could always break.

I used to think that was nonsense.

But now, I was no longer so sure.

Mother understood this pain and chose to embrace it as her own.

“Even so… you do not have to bear everything alone, Ulric.”

Mother called me by my new name. Since I arrived here, she had only called me “my son” or “my little boy.” In fact, almost no one called me Ulric.

“You have me. You have your sister Alda, who loves you very much. You have Sora, who disguises her affection as professional support, and your mentor, Sir Marte Hogan. Each one of us is part of your life. You will never be alone again.”

You will never be alone again.

How I wished I could have heard those words in my previous life.

I had wanted them more than I ever imagined.

“Yes…” I whispered, sniffling while I continued to cry.

“I am certain you saw something while you were agonizing from the blue fever. When you woke up, you seemed like a different person. More mature and more determined. But I felt you were distant, as if you did not truly know us. Alda did not notice because she is still very young, but I did. We all noticed your change.”

Her caresses did not stop, despite how confused my mother sounded.

“Even so, you are my son, and I am truly happy to have you with me. I love you, Ulric. I love you, and I will always love you. Thank you for being born. Thank you for existing, my precious little boy.”

Yes…

There was definitely no mistake.

Loving and being loved were feelings every human being needed to experience.

How had I lived without this affection?

I had been so focused on my ideals and goals that I never took the time to appreciate love until it was too late.

Her words made me happy. At the same time, a smile formed on my lips while both my eyes remained full of tears.

“Yes. I love you too, Mother.”

I said it.

The words I had wanted to say from the deepest part of my heart.

For the first time, I showed an honest smile in this world. I did not know whether it looked good, but I did not even care. I only wanted to enjoy this moment with Mother and treasure it with all my strength.

Until now, I had lived by denying my own past. I tried to adapt to the situation coldly and paid little attention to the people around me.

That ended here.

From now on, I would value this second chance that had appeared before me for reasons I did not understand.

At last, I accepted that Esaú Sánchez Moreno had died, and I also mourned his death in order to close that sorrowful chapter.

Finally, I recognized myself as Ulric León.

From now on, I would try to accept the love of my family and love them in return.

And so, lying in my mother’s lap with my face covered in tears, my life in this new world truly began.