Chapter 1 – Where am I?
My head…
His consciousness was once again seized by pain.
A sharp throbbing pierced his temples, as if a nail was being slowly hammered into his skull.
Kim Dae-ho let out a weak moan. His first instinct was to rub the source of the suffering, but his arms felt shackled by an invisible weight. Heavy, stiff, and refusing to move.
What happened? Why is my whole body like it's paralyzed?
His foggy mind struggled to find an answer. Stayed up late? Lack of sleep? he muttered inwardly, but he couldn't lie to himself about what he was feeling; this wasn't just that.
Calm down. Take a breath, he tried to force himself to be logical. This must just be sleep paralysis. A common thing. Not strange, you experience it often.
He clung to that explanation, trying to build a wall of rationality.
He tried to push his body to get up, rebelling against the paralysis enveloping him. His muscles tensed, straining, but it was futile. Even lifting his eyelids felt like an impossible endeavor.
Wait a minute...
Fragmented memories began to surface, accompanied by a sudden physical sensation. He remembered the hiss of a candle suddenly turning blue and leaping high, blinding his vision in his cramped apartment. An old book with a cracked leather cover lay open on the floor. Park Ji-hun, his friend, was with him. They were... reading something from that book, their voices merging in an unnatural murmur while circling the book, and the last memory was of the floor beneath his feet suddenly feeling like it vanished.
Ji-hun. He must be around here.
Panic began to creep in, cold and chilling. Dae-ho forced his stiff fingers to move, feeling the surface he was lying on. The fabric was very smooth, very soft, far beyond the cheap mattress that always made him sore.
Since when was my mattress this plush?
Then, a smell assaulted him – an intoxicating and strange fragrance – the sweetness of nightshade, the heavy incense of ebony wood, and behind it, a hint of a sharp metallic scent like freshly dried blood. The aroma filled his nasal cavity, worsening the existing dizziness.
Wait, how can I recognize nightshade and ebony wood? The thought crossed his mind, adding to his confusion.
With great effort, as if lifting a mountain-sized weight, Dae-ho finally managed to open his eyelids – One of his eyes was covered by something, was that a bandage?
His vision was blurry, filled with spots of light. Slowly, his sight began to clear. A magnificent dome soared above him, adorned with frescoes of gods and heroes displayed on the lapis lazuli-colored ceiling. Intricate golden vines curled around them. At the peak of the dome, an eagle with outstretched wings – an unfamiliar yet strangely familiar emblem, but feeling out of place – shone dimly under the light of a crystal chandelier.
Wh... where am I? His heart pounded.
He tilted his head, dim light sneaking in through a large stained-glass window. Dae-ho squinted. In the dark sky hung two moons – one large and emitting a silvery light, while the other was smaller, with a pale purple glow.
A dream. This must still be a dream, he insisted to himself, trying to find footing again and again. Sleep paralysis. Yes, that must be it.
Then, a sound broke the silence. A harsh creak of a door, followed by an echoing thud as the iron door leaf hit the stone wall.
Click... clack... click…
Footsteps. Unsteady, staggering, approaching. The sound of shoes touching the stone floor with a broken rhythm.
Who? he wanted to shout, but only a weak hiss of breath escaped his lips.
Dae-ho tried to tilt his body, but the pain and weakness were too strong, pinning him to the bed.
Then, the figure began to emerge from behind the curtain of darkness.
A woman. Her disheveled black hair covered part of her pale face. Her red silk dress, clearly expensive, was now tattered and messy. The strong, pungent smell of makgeolli or red wine preceded her presence, overpowering all the mystical scents that had previously filled the room.
The woman was clearly heavily drunk.
Before Dae-ho could react, the woman stumbled closer, climbing onto the bed with unsteady movements.
Her light weight pressed down on Dae-ho's weak body, making him short of breath.
What is she doing? he protested inwardly, feeling the additional burden. Uhh come on… I've had enough with the burden in my head.
But the woman brought her face closer.
From behind her messy strands of hair, Dae-ho saw tears wetting her cheeks, mixed with her smeared red lipstick. Her lips curled into a bitter smile that revealed the tips of her fangs, making Dae-ho's heart flutter uneasily. Her reddish eyes stared emptily, as if not truly seeing him.
She's drunk, Dae-ho thought inwardly.
Her cold hand touched Dae-ho's chin, then gripped it tightly and desperately, forcing Dae-ho's mouth open. Without a single word, she bowed her head.
Her cold, bitter-alcohol-scented lips sealed Dae-ho's mouth.
What is this?
Dae-ho froze. This wasn't a loving kiss, but rather an outlet, a desperation that felt real between his teeth and tongue. He could taste the sour alcohol and salty tears flooding his senses.
This... is too real to be just a dream.
Then, suddenly, Dae-ho's head felt like it was struck by lightning. Fragments of foreign memories infiltrated his mind.
Asta Ravencrest. Age seventeen. Kingdom of Veridia. Rusty Village.
An image of a shabby village named Rusty flashed clearly in his mind.
His mother... was gone, poisoned. His father…
A wave of foreign emotions immediately assaulted him—a desperation, chronic lethargy, a never-ending hunger, and a bitter acceptance of misfortune. A painful memory hit: himself—no, this belonged to Asta—being dragged by two guards in Double Crescent uniforms. From behind the carriage bars, he saw his father, Darian Ravencrest, standing rigidly. In the man's hand, he clutched a leather pouch that jingled with its contents. Darian's face was as blank as a statue, staring emptily in his direction.
From the deepest recesses of Asta's soul, a wrenching scream that never had the chance to be uttered gushed out, flooding Dae-ho's entire consciousness.
You... you killed mother?!
Hah? Dae-ho's mind screamed. His eyes widened, filled with a wave of emotions that weren't his, yet the pain and anger felt so real.
Whose are these?!
The pain in his head peaked, surpassing anything he had ever felt. His breath caught, the world around him spun and faded quickly. A warm, all-consuming darkness.