In a manor house isolated from the rest of the world, a man suddenly opened his eyes.
The ceiling above him was an incredible luxury, almost royal.
But in this room, however luxurious it may be, the environment was heavy as if that place was a place with a lot of sadness and isolation.
But the warm and soft sunlight that passes through the window gives a strange feeling of peace.
The contrast between the heavy air of the room and the peaceful feelings from the outside gives this moment an unforgettable memory, or almost...
"Where am I"? "Who am I?" he wondered breathless while his heart, beating slowly, started to speed up.
All the memories of his previous life began to rush into his mind: all the screams, all the pain, all the loneliness, all the sadness, and the obscurity that shrouded him at the end.
Thats what it feels to die, huh?
He then realized he was dead; his breathing began to accelerate; panic overwhelmed him, accompanied by a rush of heat and a sudden urge to vomit.
Then he saw a feminine silhouette who was at the room entrance.
His breathless voice breaks the silence.
"Y-you can you please bring me a bucket and some water," he asked with a broken and weak voice.
The maid froze for a second, then her professionalism took over again.
"Y-yes, young master!" she ran out quickly of the room.
Young master? What does that mean? Where the hell am I?
Minutes later, she came back breathless, her hands fluttering with a bucket.
"Here, young master!"
He didn't answer and took the bucket desperately, as if his life depended on it.
Then he let out all his guts, as if he were releasing everything he had been holding in, as if his body were purging all its bad feelings.
He caught his breath, sat down on the bed, and regained his strength. He wiped his mouth with a fatigued hand.
His clarity slowly starts to return.
His eyes wandered around the room. It was breathtaking—like something from a dream.
The walls of the room were covered in gold silk. The curtains were covered in mysterious emblems, somewhat resembling medieval coats of arms. A crystal chandelier reflected the sunlight and diffused it throughout the room. Paintings hung on the walls; some depicted a family, while others seemed more focused on war and conquest. The floor was covered with a purple carpet that looked as if it had cost a fortune.
'Where am I?'
He turned toward the maid, who watched him with worry and fear.
"Who are you?" he asked weakly.
"M-me?" She pointed at herself, startled. "My name is Mia, young master."
"And... where exactly am I? Why do you keep calling me that? I... I was supposed to be dead!" His voice rose as panic crept in.
Mia lowered her stare, visibly shaken.
"You... you really don't remember anything?" she breathed softly. "Please wait here, young master. I'll get the mistress."
Without another word, she hurried out, her footsteps echoing through the corridor.
A few minutes later, in a hall filled with precious items, tables made of antique wood, mirrors three times larger than humans, all with thin layers of gold.
The elder, who was what we can call a cold beauty, if someone had the courage to describe her, would tell her like this: she has dark hair, red eyes, a goddess face, delicate features, a body in shapes sculpted by heaven.
But the younger one was different from her elder sister; no one wants to describe her, not because she was afraid, but because she is like a holy being: she had white hair and white eyes, her features were heavenly, and her body had the perfect proportions.
"Madam, young lady... the young master has awakened," Mia said with a trembling voice.
The two women shared a look.
"Thank you," the big sister replied coolly.
Mia took the corners of her apron and made a nervous curtsy.
"The young master seems different; it's like he doesn't remember anything."
"Different?" the two of them said in unison.
A cold and heavy quietness enveloped the hall.
The young one hesitated, then spoke.
"Big sister, and what if Kaen really changed? If he loses his memory, is it possible?"
The elder sister turned her head to watch her little sister.
She glared with her ruby eyes at his sister for a few seconds before finally saying.
"Solvane people don't change that easily, even if their memories disappear, their true nature remains."
"I thought you had given up on him one year ago."
Solvane clenched her fists.
"Maybe so... but we should see for ourselves."
Without other words, both women left the room and walked calmly, even if Solvane couldn't hide her anxiety.
They walked along the corridors, which were filled with royal paintings and mirrors.
Everything in this mansion exuded luxury and grandeur.
ten minutes earlier
Kaen had just gotten out of bed. His head was still foggy, and he walked over to the window. He sat down on the sill and felt the cool air on his face. He breathed in the pure air, which was so different from the polluted air on Earth. It was a new experience for him.
'So I really did transmigrate after my death into a medieval world, perhaps even a world of magic like in those novels my uncle used to make me read.'
A bitter smile appeared on his already tired face.
It could be quite amusing if I hadn't lost everything.
Uncle, you once gave me all I needed, and now I woke up here in a body that isn't mine.
He clenched his fists and shook his head.
He wanted to give up, but he couldn't.
His uncle gave his life for him, even though he is dead in another world. The only thing he can now do to thank him is to live this new life entirely.
Young master, huh? I must come from a noble family for people to call me this.
But the glare that this maid gave me, it was not respect, it was a pure glare of fear hiding behind her professionalism.
Was I not a good person? Was the previous me like these third-rate villains in novels.
Well, there is no need to overthink now, it will not deserve me in the long term, I'll find out soon enough."
At that exact moment, the door opened.
Three figures appeared.
A beautiful, cold, mature woman with black hair and red eyes.
A younger one with white hair and white eyes.
And a trembling maid.
The Cold black haired woman stepped forward.
"Is it true... That you lost your memories," she asked with her usual cold voice.
The young man looked the woman straight in the eye.
And said word for word, "Yes. I don't remember anything. Who... am I?"
The woman paused, studying him carefully, before finally replying in a calm, controlled tone:
"You are Kaen Von Celestain."
She took a step closer.
"My brother."