My guide finally opens the door.
We walk inside the building.
"You're an odd kid you know," he says. His voice low.
I raise a brow.
"Depends on what you mean by odd, because if you ask me; I'll say I'm not odd in the slightest.. I'm rare."
A bit of attitude leaks from my tone.
He scoffs, "rare you say... right."
His lips curl upward into a mocking smile. Probably the first time I've seen him smile.
"Being rare doesn't explain the fact that a kid who spent his whole life in a small room, wouldn't be shocked in the slightest about seeing a house as... well; extravagant as this."
I've seen better, trust me.
But he's not wrong.
Immediately we walked into this house, I could see the difference.. Ornaments, designs, almost everything embedded with gold. Heck the house is like a treasure trove.
A soft sigh escapes my lips.
Living in that building reserved for servants.. it reminds me of my childhood. Before.. No, forgot about that. Focus Edward!
"It's just a house, Mage.. sir. The extravagance won't make the house more than what it's supposed to be– just a roof over the head."
I swear I heard him chuckle, but his voice is too damn low.
And that's it; he didn't reply me anymore. Just let me drown in the awkward silence
Well, at least I have something to distract myself with as we walk through this passage way. It's brightly lit and furnished– much better than the one at mine.
The portraits hung on the wall– showing pictures of old people with gruff and serious faces.
Reminds me of those politicians back on earth that never ever smile. Ha!
But he difference is that:
They all have red hair.
I shrug.
Suddenly– the guide halt his movement.
My face squeezes into a frown as I shoot him a questioning look.
He glances at the door at his left; wooden, large and.. of course, designed with golden ornaments.
He flicks his wrist and tilts his head slightly–implying that I should go in.
"My escort ends here. This is where you'll be having lunch with your family, to get to know them and eat your last meal before the ritual. It's like your last meal before death."
His voice is firm. I've been wondering for a while now if he's really just a stoic, cold dude or if he's just pretending to be. Might be the former.
Family? Tell a better joke.
An exhale flushes out of my mouth, easing my tension and I steel my resolve.
I'm about to open the door; my hand is on the handle, but I turn back to give him one last look.
It's the first time I've seen his blue gaze soften. He pats my shoulder.
"Survive kid. Don't die."
Is he telling me this out of pity or does he really want me to survive? Well, I'll find out after I survive.
A small gulp of saliva rushes down my throat. And I ask the mystery mage who might possibly be the last person on this world to show me what felt like a genuine emotion:
"What is your name?"
His lips almost curls, but then parts.
"My name?" He nods "Alright. Since I deem you worthy to know, and if by a stroke of luck, you somehow survive that ritual, you'll become someone even more worthy, so I'll tell you." He suddenly points his finger to his chest.
"My name is Sin Morderego. Etch that name into your heart, do not forget it, Young Master Charles."
I nod. Something stirs in my stomach and I can't discern if it's determination... Or just tension.
He called me young master. First time being called that..
He closes his eyes for a brief moment, and turns to leave.
I take one step inside the room, ready to face whatever might come my w–
What the hell is this?!
The temperature in the room is too different from the temperature outside.. It feels like I walked into a furnace or jumped into a hot frying pan.
My legs start wobbling, the strength in my legs flee.
I can barely stop myself from falling.
M–my legs...
The room is spinning. Oh– it's not the room, it's my vision, everything is blurry.
Sweat forms all over my body because of the heat, and my shirt is mildly soaked.
My teeth clench, I fight the massive urge to fall on the ground and pass out.
"Impressive."
A male voice rings out like echoes and I barely make out what it's saying. The voice sounds like that of a child that should be slightly older than this body.
"Oh, my stars! What are you doing to the kid, Alexander!"
Another echoing voice rings out; female this time, and, judging from her tone– iit seems she's defending me.
That means someone is inflicting this phenomenon on me on purpose.
My fingers dig into the shirt on my chest tightly. My breath is becoming heavier. It feels just like that time I died.
No, I can't endure it anymore. I'll soon pass out, this four-year-old body can only withstand so much.
"You're late."
Huh?
It's as if all that just happened was a dream as I hear a cold and deep voice clearly.
My surroundings stop spinning as my vision clears up.
I have no time to admiremy surroundings. My hands are on my knees, as my back is arched– I'm breathing in large gulps of air.
Huff Huff
I adjust my posture after stabilizing my breathing enough and my gaze falls on the sight of the people who are supposed to be my family.
Th first thing I see is a long, wooden dining table. Plates of food are on the table with cutlery by the side of the plates.
Two boys are eating; one not too older than m– this body, chewing meat like it owes him money.
The other by his side, a quiet teenager carefully cutting his food with cutlery.
Opposite them– on the other side of the table, a woman with white hair and purple eyes is smiling at me. She really gives off a chilling feeling. Yikes.
And next to the woman...
My body flinches slightly, the hairs on my skin standing straight.
It's as if he has been studying me ever since I stepped foot into this room.
As our eyes meet, his red gaze pierces my skull.
My eyes dart wildly, looking away from him.
"What are you standing there for? Come and eat."
His voice– like an arrow, shoots at my heart, it compels me to do his bidding without question.
Immediately, I stride to the chair at the edge of the table and sit.
"You should be proud of yourself.. I pissed my pants when I first encountered that."
The first voice I heard earlier– mischievous and childish, speaks to me.
I shoot a glare at the kid, I don't trust these people that almost roasted me.
The boy's eyes widen, then return to normal, and a mocking grin plays on his lips.
That kind of smile shouldn't belong to a kid.
He sees me as trash, and like everybody else, he probably thinks I'll die today.
A bowl slides on the table toward me.
I catch it, and glance at the content.. It's soup.
My brows furrow, I almost gag at the sight of the bland soup that smells like urine.
The older kid; the one that looks like a teenager, I think my son was around his age? He was the one who slid it to me. His expression is neutral and he's eating his food like nothing just happened.
The younger kid snickers as he sees my disgusted expression.
What a cute brat.
Before I start eating, I take a quick glance at the Patriarch to see if he's still staring at me.
Yup.
He's still staring at me.
His chin's resting on his interlocked, black-gloved fingers.
He's the only one that's not eating.
I've never met someone with a more intense presence than this atrocity of a human being.
His red hair looks like it's been dyed with blood. And his eyes– for a second, I wasn't sure if they were eyes at all; or just two deep wells of blood.
But those eyes... They lack light. a spark, emotion. His eyes are almost dead and there are dark circles under them.
There's no wrinkle on his face, but I can tell, he's definitely older than fourty-five. My instincts tell me.
Well, he's definitely older than me who's mentally thirty-nine.
The air around him flows with an otherworldly pressure, and that regal way he carries himself gives him a feeling of wisdom and of... experience.
"As soon as you're done eating. We're going to perform the ritual."
His deep voice suddenly cuts the thick silence in the room.
It's time. Finally...
I glance at the little boy. I've been feeling his gaze on me for a while now.
He's grinning wickedly, from ear to ear, shooting the gaze of his crimson-red eyes at me.
I smile back at him. My smile wider and more wicked.
It's not going to end how you think it will.
The teenage boy still pays no attention to any of us present in the room.
And the woman, supposedly the Matriarch, keeps staring at me with that damn fuzzy smile on her face like I'm some kind of cute litt– oh.
Clink!
It's the sound of the ceramic bowl hitting the wooden table gently as I stand up from my seat.
"I'm ready."
I'm determined. After this stupid ritual of a thing... I'll finally be able to learn magic.