It's been a couple of weeks since I woke up in the body of the youngest son of an aristocrat. I found out that the name of this so called aristocrat was Duke Reverence Everlight and the original owner of this body is Brightborn Everlight. Yes yes the names were ambiguous and ambitious at most but what can I do,I don't exactly have a say in the matter.
Who am I? It's a question that has been plauging me since I woke up in this body.
It started of like little trickles of water,a drop of memory here another drop there till yesterday.
I was still figuring out how to navigate my way around living in this mansion when a sudden headache hit and a pain so intense the word pain didn't seem to do it justice. It started as fragments,then I started remembering details of the life Brightborn lived. The endless parties,the hidden emptiness he felt,the love he had for Madelyn and the hatred he had for his father for killing her,the growing seed of malice that was plaguing his heart,all of it.
One specific memory stood out to him the most.
It was a dark cold wet night,a storm had just passed over. He and His father Duke Reverence were taking a visit to a old tavern in the lower levels of the city or as his father would call it "peasant city". He always referred to the inhabitants of this part of the city as scum and a waste of resources though when you look around,such resources that have been said to be wasted are nowhere to be found. Just humans struggling to get by each day on the grit of their teeth.
I always wondered what father does in this place but I didn't really care,not much of that since She died. I wince a little as I swallow the rage the memory was bubbling up inside me. We passed by a few fireplaces heavily surrounded by people who looked on the border of being dead. Their eyes sunken and dark, devoid of happiness. This desolate place sucks out any sort of positive emotions that is meant to keep anyone sane.
We finally arrived at the tavern. It was quite a sore thing for the eyes to perceive yet,compared to the other building we passed through,it was in relatively good conditions and the people in it seem a little better off than the soulless lot we saw on our way here.
"Frank my old friend, it's good to see you." I looked up to see the man who my father greeted in such a warm manner. Commoners always seemed to have simple short names with no family name attached to it,a very curious trait.
He looked tall with a slender frame that betrayed the strength and sharp intent that was fairly glowing in his eyes. "This man is dangerous." I thought to myself. Apparently Frank was a friend of my father from his war days but seems to have retired for some unknown reasons. Father told me he was seen as a traitor for abandoning the war , that's why he was stuck in the lower levels.
"Good to see you Duke" the man said in a low chill tone that seemed humble but arrogant as well. I notice something else,a little arm holding his leg from behind and long black hair covering a small face peeking from behind. Frank seems to have noticed my curious gaze, "That's my son,Mark. Apologies, he's wary around strangers." He said while lifting the little child and placing him on his shoulders. "But we are no strangers." My father said as he goes closer to his friend, "You weren't here when he was born and you've not been here since his mother's death,so yes Duke,you are a stranger to him." Frank said in a sharp and dismissive tone. My father is known to have a short temper to others outside the family hence my surprise at his apparent inaction to what he would normally perceive as an insult.
I listened as my father apologized for his absence, blaming in on his various duties post war. "What are you doing here Duke?." Frank said as he puts little Frank down. "I have an important discussion I'd like to have with you in private" his last word sent a nonverbal message that he was not to be disturbed so Frank sent Mark into the room and I stepped out.
I was in the carriage for what was about an hour till I suddenly heard shouting and words being spat at each other. "I can't believe you'd suggest that" That voice didn't sound like father's so I was guessing it was Frank's. "There's no other way,it has to be done" That definitely sounded like father. They seemed to be arguing over something but I couldn't decipher exactly what because of the distance of the tavern to the carriage.
"I won't allow you to do this, Reverence ". "You can't stop me Frank". Then all I could hear was loud banging and apparent clashing. Alarmed I rushed out of the carriage only to stop, everywhere has gone quiet and still but not from peace. No no no no this was definitely not from peace. It was an all to familiar feeling,a feeling of dead.
My father steps out of the tavern door and all I could see was blood in his hands, a bloodied body in the tavern corridor and little Mark crying and pleading for his father to answer him.
"Wha....." Before I could complete the sentence,he said "He wouldn't listen to reason and that's the consequence of his decision. Burn down that cavern,the stench sicken me" . I feel that feeling of rage and disgust boiling up in me again but I can't defy father. I literally a torch and I set the tavern on fire but not before stepping inside. The eyes of the child was no longer shy or meek,it was blood red from rage and killing intent. For the first time in my life I felt fear,like a prey in front of a predator.
He dashed at me with his father's sword in his hand but his weak body couldn't handle the weight and he tripped. He was all injured but he was using the rest of his strength to stand and his eyes showed no wavering, just cold murder.
"Forgive me child" I say as I brought my hand down on him but my conscience would never let me kill a child,least one whose only sin was to be born to a just man killed by an unjust one. So I knocked him unconscious and place him in a box far from the tavern through the backdoor.
Arrrrgh I stumbled to the floor as the weight of this memory presses down on me. After what seemed to be an eternity,the headache subsided and all that was left was pure maddening rage.
Who am I? A question that has plagued me since I woke up in this body. A question that left me feeling lost and confused has just been answered. I look up with bloodshot eyes and blood stained tears dripping down my face.
I AM MARK DRACARIS son of FRANK DRACARIS and I will avenge my father!!!!.