I slumped onto the cold hay, gasping for air as the pain in my stomach flared sharp and deep. My hands trembled against the floor. He actually hit me… I thought, wincing. A knight of the Ardent house laying hands on a noble heir. Maybe I should've expected it, given Dorathal's reputation. Still… hitting a noble's son? Even for him, that was bold.
A rough hand seized my hair, jerking my head up. My scalp burned, and blood dripped from my lips onto the straw below. Dorathal leaned close, his jagged grin cutting through the darkness.
"Even among the nobles, you're at the lowest of the low," he hissed. "You've got no idea how many people want you gone, little brat."
He drove his fist into my gut again. My body folded from the impact, breath catching as I hit the ground coughing blood.
Still, I forced out a small laugh weak, bitter. "How cowardly can someone be… to hit a two-year-old?"
Dorathal paused, then kicked me square in the ribs, sending me rolling across the hay. "You're a two-year-old, sure," he said with a mocking sneer, "but not an ordinary one. You're too damn proud for your own good."
Another kick. Then another. Each strike drove the air from my lungs until I could barely move. My body screamed for me to stop, to beg but I wouldn't. Not to him.
He crouched low, his voice dripping venom. "A kid like you should learn when to shut the fuck up when adults are talking."
I raised my head just enough to meet his eyes, and glared.
For a moment, his expression faltered that same flicker of unease I'd seen before when grown men looked into my eyes and saw something far older staring back. Then, anger twisted his face again.
"I wish I could kill you right now," he muttered, straightening up, "but it's not time yet."
His boot crashed into my stomach one last time. The world tilted, colors dimmed, and the sounds around me bled into nothingness.
As everything went dark, one thought lingered through the haze of pain:
The pain… it's still the same even in a different world.
My consciousness was fading, but not completely gone.
I could still feel it my body being lifted, my arms limp at my sides. Then the rough slam of wood and the hollow rattle of wheels. A carriage. Voices, too. Dorathal's among them. The other… familiar, but my head was pounding too much to place it.
I tried to move to wake myself fully but my body refused to listen. Everything hurt. Then, as if no time had passed, I heard his voice again.
"Oi, brat."
My eyes opened slowly. The night sky swam above me, cold and dark. We were in a forest no, deeper than that. A dark place surrounded by jagged rocks. The air was damp, heavy. I couldn't tell how far we were from the manor. My stomach twisted, pain surging from every breath. Dorathal's beatings really did a number on me.
He stood there, smirking under the pale moonlight. "I planned to take you when you slipped into the horse stead," he said, almost laughing. "I knew you'd try to find Cassandra. Didn't think you'd do it this soon but I shouldn't have expected more from a two-year-old."
Even through the throbbing pain, I managed to whisper, "Where… are we?"
He chuckled. "Still talking? Even now?"
Then came a voice from behind him a woman's voice, calm and cutting. "Even in that state he's still trying to talk for information. There's truly something wrong with this boy."
That voice. I'd heard it before.
"Gail?" I said weakly.
She stepped forward, and even in the dim light, I could see the difference. Gone was the nervous, freckled maid from before. What stood before me now was composed, eerily calm too calm.I couldn't help but smile, bitterly. "You know," I said, "I thought your acting earlier was horse shit."
In my head, I scoffed. I'd seen better actresses in my old world. It was obvious what she was trying to do to hide her part in this but it only made it more clearer to me.
"So you knew?" she said, surprised but smiling.
"Of course. You need acting classes."
Gail laughed, not offended in the slightest. If anything, she seemed amused. But I understood what that meant i was in a dangerous situation. More dangerous than I'd realized.
I was tied to a tree. My arms hurt. My body barely responded. Still, I forced myself to speak. "What do you want from me?"
Dorathal's boot struck my stomach before I could finish. The pain tore through me; I could hardly breathe.
"You have no right to ask questions," he snarled.
"I told you not to hit him too hard," Gail said, her voice sharp but measured.
Dorathal glared at her. "Don't tell me you've grown a conscience now, Gail."
She tilted her head, her tone almost casual. "I just don't want his body full of wounds that might lead back to us when they find it."
A chill ran down my spine. My heart pounded painfully against my ribs. So that was it.
"So… they really plan on killing me," I whispered.
Gail's grin widened. "Scared, little Ardent?" she said mockingly. "If you are, then you should blame the day you were born into this world. Blame your existence, your family, and most of all that whore from another country for giving birth to you."
Her words echoed, cruel and deliberate. Something inside me twisted, but it wasn't fear. It was something darker. Colder.
I looked up at her through the strands of my hair, blood running down my lip. That feeling in me it wasn't one I recognized, not from this life, not even from my previous one.
If I killed this woman right now, I thought, I wouldn't feel a damn thing about it.
Taken aback, Dorathal groaned from behind. "See what I mean when I said he had those creepy eyes."
Gail chuckled softly. "What a strange little kid," she said, almost in admiration.
I stared at them both, unflinching. I knew Dorathal wouldn't simply do this out of spite for Cassandra. No someone else had to be behind this.
"So who was it that ordered a hit on me?" I asked, my voice steady despite the pain.
To my surprise, Gail laughed. "What a wonderful little boy," she said mockingly. "Even analyzing the situation and confronting me with questions? If you must know, understand this, little Ardent you're barely two years old, and you've already made plenty of enemies. There are many who want you dead." She laughed again, her voice sharp and cold.
"And how much are they paying you?" I asked.
Her laughter continued. "A lot," she said, grinning. "Why ask? Planning to counter that amount? You're a nobody. You have no value, no valuables nothing to offer me."
I chuckled quietly. "You're right," I said. "But still, that confirms one thing."
Her laughter faltered, a faint frown forming on her face, as if realizing she'd said too much.
"Oh well," she sighed, shrugging. "Still, you'll die anyway. So… there's that."
Dorathal stepped forward, drawing a knife as Gail gave him a small nod.
My mind drifted then not from fear, but from memory.
I'd been in a similar situation before. Not life-threatening, perhaps, but still the same feeling helpless, trapped, unable to change a damn thing.
Born into a family out to kill me… how absurd. I laughed softly at the thought, my body trembling with pain, but my lips still curved into a smile.
The gods truly didn't want to see me happy, huh?
Even so, I smiled.
And then, I whispered something under my breath. Dorathal tilted his head. "What? Saying your last rites, brat?"
I smiled wider. "Took you long enough, Cass."
A second later — boom.
A black silhouette crashed onto the ground where Dorathal stood, creating a crater that split the dirt beneath us. He barely managed to leap back.
"What the fuck!?" he shouted.
From the rising dust, a familiar voice bellowed with fury.
"HOW. DARE. YOU. PIECES. OF. SHIT. LAY A HAND ON MY YOUNG MASTER!"
I couldn't help but smile again, weakly this time, as I let go of the small device I'd been clutching behind my back.
I knew I could rely on Cassandra.