'Am I still here, or was it all just a bad dream?'
Darian scanned the room.
"..Still here.." he sighed.
Darian sat on the edge of the bed, his body still heavy but steadier than the night before.
It was early morning. The sun still hiding behind the horizon.
He rose slowly, steadying himself until the dizziness passed.
At the wardrobe, he ran his fingers across the neatly arranged garments. The boy whose life he had inherited probably never gave them a second thought, but to Darian, even choosing clothes felt strange. Still, he picked a plain set and began dressing.
The fabric was heavier than what he was used to, and his fingers fumbled more than once with the buttons. Yet each mistake only sharpened his focus. Bit by bit, he pulled everything together until he stood properly dressed infront of the mirror.
"I look descent .. I guess" he murmured to himself.
The reflection of the young noble starring back at him still felt strange.
He had packed everything that seemed he would need in his leather satchel.
Garments, water flask, writing tools, and a pouches of coins that the previous Darian seemed to own.
'Has the previous Darian been saving?'
He wondered, trying to recall foreign memories.
"I'll make good use of your money" a cheeky smile appeared on his face.
Adjusting the strap of his satchel, Darian crossed the chamber with steady steps and reached for the door.
He turned the knob and pushed. To his surprise, Elaina stood just outside. She flinched, nearly dropping the yawn she hadn't finished, eyes widening as though she had been caught in the act.
"Y–You're already awake?" she blurted, straightening quickly. It was rare enough for him to rise early, let alone to find him fully dressed and with a satchel slung over his shoulder.
Her gaze flicked from his neat attire to the packed leather bag across his shoulders. The sleepy haze vanished from her face, replaced by surprise.
"You… you're ready?"
"Yes" Darian replied. "I'm suppose to be escorted to the academy, right?"
"Ofcourse... but the carriages don't get ready untill another two hours, Young Lord" she implied.
Darian leaned against the doorframe.
"Two hours? Then I suppose you'll have the honor of keeping me entertained until then."
Elaina blinked, confused. "Entertained? Young Lord, I—"
Her words stumbled as she tried to process the unfamiliar cheek in his voice.
"Im only joking", Darian laughed as he cut her sentence short.
He walked pass her onto the hallway.
'Young Lord made a joke and laughed?' Her thoughts only confused her.
She followed, by his side, curious to where he was heading.
"Young lord, where are u heading so early this morning?"
"The library"
He answered.
.
He made way to the palace library.
It was a wide, quiet hall filled with rows of tall shelves packed with old books.
Warm light from lamps and torches made the polished floor shine softly. At the center stood heavy wooden tables where he sat.
Darian's memories were still vague and majority of the knowledge of this new world were still unknown to him so the books should prove worthy.
The letters curled in unfamiliar shapes, sharp strokes and flowing lines unlike any script from his old world. Yet as his eyes traced them, the meaning came effortlessly, as if the knowledge had always been buried within him, waiting to surface.
Time slipped unnoticed as Darian buried himself in the pages. One book spoke of the great kingdoms and their tangled histories, another of bloodlines blessed with extraordinary mana. He read until the words blurred, pausing only to gather his thoughts. Every line reminded him of how little he truly knew of this world—and how much he had to catch up on.
The quiet footsteps at the entrance drew his attention. Elaina appeared, her usual calmness tempered with a faint urgency.
"Young Lord," she said softly, "the carriages are ready. The Duke is waiting to see you off."
Darian closed the book in his hands.
He rose to his feet,slipped the volume into his satchel.
"Well then, lead the way" Darian complied.
.
The chill of morning air greeted them as they stepped out into the main courtyard. The sun had just begun to climb the horizon, painting the sky in muted gold. At the palace entrance, a pair of black-lacquered carriages stood waiting, horses stamping restlessly against the cobblestones. Servants moved briskly, checking straps and wheels, while armored guards flanked the gate in disciplined silence.
The nearest carriage door was open, and within sat Sir Aldren, arms folded, his stern gaze fixed on the path ahead. He inclined his head slightly when he noticed Darian approach, though his expression remained unreadable.
The Duke stood at the center of it all, his presence commanding even without a word. His fiery hair caught the early light, and the Redmond crest on his cloak stirred faintly in the breeze. In his hands rested a long bundle wrapped in dark cloth.
When Darian drew near, the Duke unwrapped it and revealed a blade—slender, light, polished until it gleamed. The insignia of Redmond was etched near the hilt, blackened into the steel by fire. A sword meant not only for battle but as a symbol of the family's honor.
The Duke held it out, his eyes steady. "This blade bears the name of Redmond. See that you do not bring it shame."
Darian accepted the weapon with both hands, bowing his head slightly. The weight of it was unfamiliar yet grounding, a reminder that no matter whose body he now wore, he carried someone else's legacy.
"Don't get yourself in trouble," the Duke added, voice low but firm.
A faint smile tugged at Darian's lips. "I'll do my best."
With that, he stepped toward the waiting carriage. Sir Aldren shifted to make room as Darian climbed inside, settling across from him with the satchel at his side and the new blade resting across his knees.
The door shut with a dull thud. Moments later, the reins snapped, and the carriage lurched forward. Through the small window, Darian caught one last glimpse of the Duke standing tall before the palace gates, until distance and dust swallowed the estate from view.
The road to the academy had begun.