《Echoes》


 Prologue 1: the Empire鈥檚 dark days

    These days I wonder if I¡¯ll ever see the light of day again. The sterile environment of the facility I¡¯m residing in is certainly livable, but having been unable to even go outside for months, I¡¯ve begun to manifest signs of cabin fever. I¡¯m often plagued by nightmares, and if I lax my guard I can almost feel my nightly terrors crawl into reality. I have to get a hold of myself, my current task is far too important to fail because of psychic maladjustment. I try to calm down by thinking about home and my parents, it helps getting my mind off the pain a little bit. Bless their souls.


    I execute a long string of commands on the computer in front of me, to begin the startup of the reactor. Today is the day that our crew are finally running the first test run of this new reactor type, which is deemed of critical importance to the survival of the empire. To overturn the current state of events that has driven us all to near extinction, a new great source of energy is required. How ironic that my job has changed from creating weapons of mass destruction to creating the hope of our prolonged survival. Somewhere god must be laughing at this turn of events, but for the sake of the empire, no, for the sake of the entire human race I will pledge myself fully to the task given to me, even if that means sacrificing myself in the process. For me salvation will not arrive in time no matter what happens anyway. This shall be my final gift to the empire.


    Over the course of my career I have already been lauded as one of the most influential and brilliant scientists of the empire, having helped with the creation of multiple devices and weapons that overturned the course of the conflict.


    Looking back I have been through quite a lot despite my relatively young age. Shortly after getting my doctorate in physics war broke out between the Empire and the Confederacy. Feeling a threat to my future and the livelihood of my nation I applied for an R&D position within the military to put my abilities to use. This is how I got wound up in the great arms race between the two superpowers. As the war advanced through the years I worked on several teams that brought vital new techniques to the army. Wide-range electronic jammers for stealth mission and for cutting off the enemies¡¯ information stream, extremely fast acting and highly venomous nerve gas, as well as next generation generators for the constantly improving artillery devices and combat vehicles. Particularly that last one was one of the projects where my personal merits shined the most, and I got was steadily gaining influence within the science department and even in the party itself. At that point, the war had been raging for close to 3 years and a half. And it had shown no signs of stopping, instead it had only intensified. Countries that originally had tried to remain neutral where forced to take sides and even countries on other continents had started to meddle in the conflict. However on April 1943 the war truly took a turn for the worst.


    It started with a pile of successfully decrypted schematics that we had managed to steal from the enemy. Its contents where startling: designs for salted nuclear weaponry. After looking through the notes and research that accompanied the schematics I was tasked with making a model of what would happen should one of the bombs be detonated on our soil. My findings were as follows, the immediate effect of the detonation would destroy most life within several kilometers around the detonation site, but the true threat was in the toxic radioactive fallout that followed the detonation. It would make an area as large as 100 square kilometers uninhabitable for hundreds of years. My findings must have shocked the higher ups, as immediately interception methods and the creation of these new bombs was given top priority. The confederate and its allies had a head start, but the empire and its allies had a larger industrial capacity, furthermore we had already started looking at radio-active materials as a new energy-source and the facilities for refining them where already being built. Now it was on to the R&D department to create a weapon that utilized those principles to create a weapon of mass destruction, before the Confederacy could. I was appointed as one of the senior-researchers for this task.


    The days that I would toil more than 15 hours a day over improving performance of the bombs, ensuring their safety mechanisms functioned as well as their destructive payload was sufficient were extremely tense. Under such stress the worst character traits of people start to show. Some of my fellow researchers became terribly edgy, bursting out in anger over the slightest things. Some wallowed in melancholy and even others despaired having lost all hope in finishing the weapon before the confederacy would. I tried not to let the stress get to me, keeping myself motivated with my future prospects should I succeed and knowing that in its darkest hour I must do all I can to ensure the survival of the empire. Perhaps it was in those days that I picked up my habit of silently muttering to myself. Luckily our research facility was not discovered by the enemy and we were spared the bombing runs and black-op strike missions from the Confederacy and its allies. In the end our work finally yielded us the desired result: the finalized version of a missile guided salted cobalt bomb. With this we might finally end the war! The days that we thought that the enemy could be crushed simply with armed warfare between the two armies were long gone. We need to make a decisive strike, even if it leads to a lot of civilian casualties. If this weapon can threaten the Confederacy into armistice it would be worth it, those were my thoughts upon its completion. Even if it would claim tens of thousands of lives, for me ending the war was more important. Besides, my hands where already thoroughly stained in blood, what would it matter now to add a few zeroes to the list of people that died due to my inventions.


    With a celebratory mood the weapon was moved to a launching facility in the early days of January, 1945. The empire sought to strike a decisive blow to the confederacy by striking their capital and thus breaking their will and their leadership. The first shot would be to show them the overwhelming difference between the firepower of the Empire and the Confederacy, to give them the chance to surrender on our terms. Should they still continue the offensive, a second missile would be launched, then if they still do not call back their troops a third. We had made around 15 working nuclear missiles at the ready, primed for strategic targets within the territory of the Confederacy and its allies.


    The first missile was launched successfully. Unfortunately for us, that had been the case for the other party as well. Apparently, not soon after our weapons had finished, the confederacy had finished theirs.  That day in mere moments millions of people died, as the two weapons hit their targets: Berlin and Saint Petersburg. In rage and vengeance, we were ordered to fire the remaining missiles at their targets in retaliation. Dumbstruck and filled with vengeance we immediately did as ordered. As our missiles hit their targets, so too the bombardment on the empire continued.  The fate of Europe was sealed. In an extremely short span of time Europe had become a radioactive wasteland, who knows how many must have perished in that initial bombardment. In light of this tragedy the war ended, there was nothing left to fight over. The only thing that mattered now was to ensure our continued survival.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    As I moved to a new facility that sought a way to find a way to sustain the lives of the empires remaining citizens the things I witnessed were simply too much for me.  People begging us to take them with us, bleeding all over their bodies. Destroyed cities, heaps of indistinguishable corpses and malnourished and dying citizens could be seen everywhere. We were powerless, unable to help our fellow citizens with the limited supplies we had.  After a day of traveling most of us started showing signs of mild radioactive poisoning. We needed to find shelter as soon as possible.


    That¡¯s when our days of holing up in this emergency shelter began. It was one of the inactive experimental facilities that had looked at nuclear energy as a new way to power the nation that had been built in the early years of the war in occupied Ostland territory. We had been left with a skeleton crew of several guards and a squad of talented engineers and most of the scientists that were still alive and present. We were currently one of the last teams of scientist that the empire had available, and the task given to us was once again of critical importance. One of the most gleaming problems to the survival of the empire was methods to power our greenhouses and water purifying installations within the country. Most of the old energy facilities had been destroyed and the large quantities of radioactive fallout made the empire ground unsuited for agriculture. The population might have slunk considerably in these months but to provide adequate food and water large amounts of energy is needed. Many people had started fleeing Europe altogether but for me that was not an option. The generated fallout is simply too much, it has already reached the higher layers of the stratosphere, and the entire northern hemisphere would soon be unsuitable for human habitation. Going beyond the equator, protected by the permanently one-directional Passat winds might be a possibility but the southern countries have already started closing their borders. That¡¯s why I have put all my effort in solving this new energy problem together with my fellow researchers. You could probably call us comrades in arms already, the many years we have spent in the lab together in service to the empire.  After all these days we would not let it be for naught, our country will have a future, our children will have a future, and one day the empire must overcome this.


    ¡°For the country, the people.  I must go on for the country, the people...¡± Unconsciously I had started muttering to myself.


    What we are currently working on is an entirely new type of reactor. While we were creating the bombs all of us also realized the potential of this new technology as a potent energy source. The strangest thing was that sometimes we would get energy readings that entirely baffled us, readings that we could not explain with our understanding of physics. At that time due to the arms race we did not have enough time to look further into methods of harvesting this energy, but now this reaction has become our only hope if we are to create enough energy to sustain the empire for the coming centuries.


    I make my way to the reactor, after giving a final salute to my remaining comrades. Of the 14 researchers that made it to the facility only 7 where left, including me. Willem was the first one to go, one night his lungs filled with blood and he chocked in his sleep. Ingrid and Wolfgang both died of heart attacks and the others died due to their fevers. Soon to I would follow that fate.  My skin had started peeling of and the festering wounds would not heal. Infections ran rampant all over my wounded body. I already avoided contact with the others to avoid further spread of disease. It¡¯s nothing close to a miracle that I even get to see the reactor run.  Because my time in this world was already fleeting, the final step in activating the reactor was up to me. The last part required close proximity to the reactor, which would lead to a high dose of radiation. Because of our limited time we could not make it safer. After clearing several doors I stand in front of the reactor.


    ¡°Flip this switch, double check the cooling systems, double check the safety systems..."


    The necessary material to ensure a safe startup of the reactor was unavailable, ensuring that the person who was to kick start the reactor would be subjected to a large dose of radiation. I had volunteered myself for the task, even with this dying body I could still be of use in my last moments. I give the signal to my fellow researchers and walk back to the door while with a roaring sound I hear the reactor coming alive.


    ¡°Structural integrity: stable. Energy levels, stable and of suitable quantity. Chance of criticalities: at appropriate levels. We¡¯ve got power!¡±


    I hear the cheerful voice over the intercom, followed by a chorus of cheers and screams of elation. All at once I feel a weight falling off my shoulders. Our future is secure, after clearing myself out of the reactor chamber I promptly sack down on the ground.  ¡°We did it Ingrid, we saved everyone.¡±  Her face comes to my mind. Not the one that I had become used to seeing in these last few months, devoid of hope and sickly, but the face of the beautiful and intelligent woman I had fallen in love with during our years spent together during the long years of constant warfare, working together. We had promised each other to tie the knot after the war was over, but that would not come to pass. When she passed away I was devastated, but I found some strange relief in the fact that I would be following soon after. Her passing was to sudden so I could not even say goodbye, but I swore to myself to see this project through.  Our final project, so that we might hopefully some of our combined sins could be redeemed, all those people that died because of us. At least now everyone still has a future.  As my strength leaves my body, I feel the impulse to cry, but my body refuses to comply. My tear ducts ruptured and stopped working properly a few days ago. Nowadays blood comes out instead of tears.


    ¡°I guess this is it for me¡­¡± I had forced myself to stay awake for more than 20 hours already. I knew that if I would ever fall asleep that would be my end. The force of will keeping me awake is fleeting away now, and in my mind I somehow hear oblivion beckon.  And its call sounds so sweet to me, suffering from countless wounds and having endured all these horrible events. Both physically and mentally I¡¯m at my limit. I accept it and close my eyes, and like that my consciousness fades.


    _____________________________________________________________________________________________


    Authors note:


    Thanks for reading this very first chapter of my story. Since English isn''t my native language I do make mistakes from time to time. I would appreciate it if you point them out in the comment section if you find them.


    The next chapter will probably be finished and uploaded tomorrow.

 Prologue 2: an out of body experience

    Prologue 2: an out of body experience


    My existence as a scientist of the empire must have surely ended in that moment, when I embraced oblivion after succumbing to my sickness. It would however appear my trials would not end there. As my lucidity returned I somehow awaken in an entirely different place. I recognize it as my hometown near Leiden, but everything feels off. The area is devoid of life and color, and instead of the sun the sky is adorned with a horrifying swirling vortex made up out of uncountable numbers of people, being sucked into its center high above me in the sky. In the distance I could see others being pulled up into the skies, screaming and kicking. Some wear the uniforms of soldiers, other are clearly civilians.


    ¡°What is this? Is this hell, is it purgatory? Where am I?¡± I scream but no one is around to give me the answers. What the fuck is that thing in the sky? I am momentarily perplexed by these strange circumstances before I regain a hold of myself. I try to come up with a suitable explanation for my current situation. I still remember entering deaths embrace back in the facility. If anything this might be a place where souls are judged after death. My creations have destroyed an immense amount of lives, if anything I probably belong in a place like this, assuming this is indeed hell or some gateway towards it. While thinking about such things I gradually start feeling a force trying to pull me upwards, into the maelstrom.


    Even if I deserve to be here I am not going down without struggling, I do not want to be condemned to hell for all eternity. Desperately I seek to escape the force that is pulling me towards the maelstrom by finding something to hold on to or some form of shelter to keep me from floating away into that horrifying spectacle.


    The strange occurrences show no sign of stopping however. With excellent timing another strange occurence takes place. Suddenly I hear something other than the chorus of screams and moans of what I presume to be the dead. With a sound somewhat like a string snapping under pressure suddenly large cracks form through the air, as if reality itself has shattered under pressure, and cracked like some oversized ceramic bowl. One of the cracks appears in my vicinity. Even after looking at it I¡¯m none the wiser of its nature, if anything peering into its depths greatly disorients me. Shown through the crack is something incomprehensible. Even if I look at it, I can¡¯t comprehend it. Is this what religion refers to as chaos? It must be, I can¡¯t find any other words to describe it.


    I gather my train of thoughts again, looking at this situation I am left with a choice, make use of the crack and leave this place, or be pulled into that vortex above. The choice for me was quickly made, the vortex above was certainly of a malicious nature, or at least it seemed like that to me. Deep inside I had already resigned myself knowing resistance was probably futile, but now that I am given a broader set of options I would surely choose something more benevolent, or at the very least something less obviously malevolent. Before the force could fully lift my body I rush at the fissure and quickly jump towards it, bracing myself for impact. As my body moves through that unexplainable thing, I¡¯m overwhelmed by sensations that are too alien to describe.


    The next thing I know I am standing in an entirely different place, trying to get my nausea under control. At first glance it would appear like I am in some kind of cave system. It seems over the years my affinity to underground places has grown, I¡¯ve spent many years of my life skulking around in them after all, secret research facilities and shelters and the like. While testing if I can freely move my body I notice the force pulling me upwards seems to have disappeared ever since I¡¯ve moved through that strange fissure, yet the world still remains devoid of color. I start moving around, first carefully avoiding the low hanging stalactites hanging from the ceiling and the sharp looking stalagmites on the floor. Like that I walk around for what it feels like hours on end. Pushed by boredom and curiosity I try touching one of the sharp looking chalk formations, wondering what a stalagmite feels like. To my surprise my hand moves right through it, unable to get a hold on it. Flustered I once again try to grab the stalagmite, but it yields the same result. I briefly ponder this situation before coming to the conclusion that I am still without a corporeal form. Apparently that greatly reduces my possible interactions with the rest of the world. An immense feeling of anxiousness strikes me, do I have to spend my time as a ghost until the end days simply wandering the earth? Perhaps it might have been better to ignore that fissure after all. How am I going to spend the rest of my existence like this without going utterly mad? I continue walking while brooding over such thoughts


    It would seem my exploration yielded me some unexpected results. In front of me is a large door of solid dark rock, or some dark type of marble, this greyscale world makes it hard to tell the difference.  It is decorated with ominous engravings of horned creatures and scenes of massacre. Though the depictions are quite horrific, I can¡¯t help but praise the craftsmanship of the artisan that must have created it, it¡¯s like a renowned renaissance piece. For a while I admire the engravings, it reminds me of the pieces that I witnessed during an art exhibition of the Party, together with Ingrid. We were invited in honor of our achievements regarding improving army communications. Ingrid loved macabre art the most, one of those quirky things of hers that appealed to me. Everyone has those kinds of quirky sides to themselves that make them interesting and fun to be around with.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    Deciding that I spent enough time admiring the engravings I walk forward. I don¡¯t even bother to remove the hands from my back and leisurely stroll right through the door, trying to push it open would be futile after all in my state of being. What greets me is a scene I surely did not expect.


    A group of for lack of a better word, beings, is engaged in combat with a large looking monstrosity that somewhat resembles a large bear standing on its hind legs, with triple jointed elongated arms and leathery wings. All in all, not something you want to run into if you¡¯re on a leisurely stroll. I do not fear for my life however, since I know I¡¯m already dead. It would seem that the assortment of smaller creatures are successfully routing the large monstrosity. There seem to be 2 human like beings in the group, one male and one female, along with a stocky dwarfish creature that was presumably a male, a tall and gaunt female being with pointed ears as well as a deformed looking darker-skinned creature. The tall female was attacking with bow and arrow from an incredible distance, the green skinned creature was somehow creating fire out of nothing and shooting it at the bear monster and the two beings I presumed were humans where engaging the monster in close quarter combat. From time to time the dwarf would lower his mace and focus on one of its allies to release a ray of light that somehow seemed to cure injuries. Even if I want to deny such an absurd existence with all my means, when confronted with the inexplicable no other answers come to mind. Could this truly be magic I¡¯m witnessing?


    I decided to pass the time as a spectator of the battle. With their repeated assaults they managed to drive the creature in a corner, badly wounded. But like any animal forced into a corner, in desperation it suddenly struck out at the human female. The claw of the monster sinks deep into her shoulder, before the force behind the blow sends her flying. The rest of the people cry out in alarm, but they of course have to focus on suppressing the monster first. The woman happens to land close to me. As I watch her on the ground, pained and obviously on deaths door, suddenly our gazes link. As the intense gaze matches my inquisitive stare memories of regret slowly prompt me to action. I could not do anything for Ingrid, and even if my technology would end up saving lots of people, I would not be there to witness the outcome. Even if it is once, I would like to save a life with my own hands.


    Despite knowing it to be a rash action, I rush over to the dying woman¡¯s side. Even though I¡¯m acting purely on my emotions, I feel like I¡¯m truly doing the right thing. Even if it is just my mind playing tricks on me, this must be the right course of action. A chance meeting in a strange cave between a woman that should die and a ghost seeking atonement. Though I never was the type to believe in fate, due to my vehement belief in free will, what else could have brought this meeting to take place? And stranger still was that somewhere from deep within me, I could feel that I was the only one that could help her here. As I kneel beside her she has a surprised and somehow fearful look on her face, like she has seen a ghost. I look her in the eyes, reflected on her Iris is a somewhat gruesome shape. A pale looking man in a tattered white coat looms over her, his skin covered in terrifying wounds. If I saw that while near deaths door, I would be stricken with fear too. My pallid figure looks like some dark omen of death, like a grim reaper that ferries souls to the afterlife.


    ¡°It¡¯s going to be alright, you are going to be fine...¡± I try to say some soothing words to her, to calm her down. If she starts panicking now the stress would kill her even faster, she is already starting to bleed out. Even if the message doesn¡¯t get through, the tone seemingly does. The fearful look in her eyes starts dissipating, does she trust me or has she just accepted her demise just like I did back in that facility? As if guided by instinct, I move my weathered hands to her gruesome wound. As soon as I touch her, it feels like all the warmth of my body is being sucked out of me. My ¡®body¡¯ strongly wants pull to back my hand, but I force myself to hold on. It feels like if I stop now she will surely lose her life. As it gets increasingly more difficult to not pull away my hands I witness a miracle. The flesh that had been ripped apart by the monster before, exposing flesh organ and bone, starts regenerating at a rapid pace. Motivated by the apparent success of my endeavors I successfully push through the mental barrier and in the end with a final feeling of triumph I collapse forward, on the woman that I have just saved; it seems like she is going to make it.


    The last thing I felt was blissful warmth.


    ______________________________________________________________________________________________


    Author''s note:


    Thanks for reading the second chapter of the prologue. Once again if you spot any mistakes or inconsistencies feel free to point them out to me in the comment section or sent me a PM.


    The final chapter of the prologue will be uploaded as soon as I am able to do so.

 Prologue 3: Nascence

    Prologue 3: Nascence


    While reading the paper I¡¯m interrupted by the sound 2 pair of tiny feet running down the stairs. With a slam the door opens and my cute daughter and one of her friends storm into the living room.


    ¡°Dad? It has been 40 minutes! Is the cake done?¡± She and her friend both look at me with eyes full of expectation. I slowly put away my paper and stand up from my chair.


    ¡°It should be about done by now yes. If you guys set the table you might get a bigger slice of it¡­¡± Before I even finish my sentence Gerda and Frida run to grab the necessary objects from the cupboard. As my daughter and her friend are standing on their toes to place the plates and the cutlery on the table I move to the kitchen. The smell of freshly baked cake steadily intensifies as I move from the living room to the dining room, until I finally arrive at the kitchen. There is no door between the dining room and the kitchen and as I enter the fragrant smelling room I spot Ingrid carefully decorating the cake with some self-made whipped cream.


    She must have heard me coming as she turns questioningly turns her head. ¡°What is it dear?¡± She asks me with her sweet voice. Her normally long sleek black hair is bundled together in a white hair net, which make her ash-gray beautiful eyes even more pronounced. She is also wearing that one cute apron I bought for her as a present some time ago. Her near professional getup all for baking a cake does kind of show her perfectionistic nature.


    ¡°Nothing really pressing, honey. The children are really looking forward to your cake, and since I expected it to be around done by now I just thought I would check on how it has turned out.¡±


    ¡°Ha, you always downplay your own motives Frits. In truth you want to eat it just as bad as the kids do right?¡± I could only smile wryly at that remark. She can always  see right through me somehow, even though others often think of me as a somewhat sly and reserved person.  I take a look at the cake and see that it has risen to a good height and it seems to be perfectly baked.  After waiting for Ingrid to finish decorating I move the piece of confectionary to the dining room while she changes clothes. The girls have already prepared the cutlery and the plates, and are watching me in anticipation as I move the cake towards the table. It¡¯s a modest table adorned with a colorful cloth with a red stitches on white pattern, large enough to accommodate 4 people and some guests if necessary. I can almost see the drool falling from their mouths as the girls wait in anticipation on their chairs. When Ingrid is done changing and takes her seat I finally declare that it is time to dig in.


    ¡°I¡¯ll leave the honors to you Ingrid, you made it after all!¡± I gesture at the knife meant for dividing the cake. While smiling she proceeds to move it towards it. ¡°Is something like this enough?¡± She asks the two children. ¡°No bigger, bigger!¡± They respond in kind. It kind of reminds of myself as a child, with my endless appetite for confectionaries.  Ingrid starts cutting the cake.


    As the sharp knife digs into the cake along the lines of the cut a red liquid oozes up, and a queer smell enters fills the room.


    Suddenly a sense of unease takes a hold of me, but Ingrid just continues slicing the cake until two slightly largish slices have been formed in the mold. The children raise their plates in anticipation and Ingrid serves the slices. At the sight of the ¡®cake¡¯ on their plates, an overwhelming feeling of disgust washes over me, nearly making me puke. Two gross writhing humps adorn their plates, resembling bloody pieces of meat writhing with maggots. Despite this grotesque scene the children start eating it all with delight. As they shove it down, writhing maggots and drops of blood spill all over. As I am watching the children while feeling disturbed and baffled Ingrid¡¯s voice suddenly manages to capture my attention. Like nothing strange is happening she holds up a big slice of ¡®cake¡¯ above the mold and is trying to get me to cooperate. ¡°Dear, please give me your plate? I sliced quite a large piece since you always love sweets, so I hope you are satisfied with this.¡± She says to me in a lovey-dovey tone. The disparity between what I¡¯m witnessing and what I¡¯m hearing is quite unsettling. What the hell is going on? This isn¡¯t right! I need to get out of here this instant! Immediately and without responding to her I stand up from my chair, and under some sounds of distress from Ingrid I desperately bolt for the exit.


    This isn¡¯t my family, this is some horrible freak show. While trying to move the door handle in great desperation suddenly I feel a powerful grip on my shoulder. With a staggering amount of force I am spun around and forced against the wall. ¡°Where are you going husband? You Know you can¡¯t leave! You promised me we would be together forever!¡± Ingrid pins my arms behind my back with an unnatural amount of force her face warped in a sad expression.


    ¡°Stop, you are hurting me¡­¡± I try to free myself from Ingrid¡¯s grasp to no avail, where is this strength coming from? I feel her nails digging into my flesh. ¡°You can¡¯t leave! You can¡¯t leave! You can¡¯t leave! You can¡¯t leave¡­¡­.!¡± Ingrid keeps saying those words, rattling on like a broken record. Because she is pretty much pressing her body against mine, I can smell her breath. It is an all too familiar scent; the scent unburied corpses, of illness and festering wounds. The scent that belonged to the scenes I witnessed on that one day. It is a horrible stench that I can still clearly recall even to this day.


    ¡°We belong together Frits, why are you trying to leave my side!¡± Suddenly she embraces me tightly, too tightly. Thoroughly undaunted by my struggles, she clamps down on me like a vice. Under the great strain I feel something break and I lose consciousness.


    ..........


    I awaken in cold sweat. After taking brief note of my surroundings my heartbeat finally calms down a bit. It had been a dream after all. Wait, heartbeat?


    I desperately struggle to move my head and take a look at myself, but somehow I can¡¯t move my body well. The most I can manage is to fling my head around to get a grasp of my current location, but since I¡¯m lying on my back and am unable to coordinate my movements I can¡¯t take a look at myself. I seem to be lying in some sort of huge room, in an enormous fenced off bed. Since I am touching the bed it seems my days as a wandering incorporeal being are over. The one thing that does not seem to have changed however is my vision. Even now, all I see is shades of gray. How peculiar. I marvel for a moment about the return of my senses and feeling sensations that I have not felt for some. Another welcome change is that the chronic pain that had been caused by my previously sick body is gone, and feeling everything without that filter of pain is amazing. It nearly brings a tear to my eye. After the initial excitement is over I seek to make sense of my current situation.


    It seems like lately I¡¯ve been doing that very often. I mean what is with all these incomprehensible phenomena right after the other? If there is some arbiter above responsible for my current predicaments, it probably thoroughly enjoys toying with me.


    Earlier I noticed that I am in some fenced bed-like contraption in a large room. I have seen similar contraption back in use back in the empire, fenced off beds, but since that situation seems unlikely I discard the thought.


    I might be in some sort of hostage or prisoner situation. If so it might be worthwhile to alert others to the fact that I am awake. At best I might get saved by some random passersby, at worst my captor may come in and do something bad to me. Even if that happens the fact remains that I am powerless, only my mind seems to fully function. If my captor does come I might get to know who is responsible for this situation. I try to articulate a normal call for aid, however all that passes my lips is unintelligible whining and high pitched shreaks.


    Am I partially paralyzed? What is going on? Even though the message shouldn¡¯t have been delivered with that, the noise did not go unnoticed. After a short while I could see the door being opened through the fence. A woman walks into her room. She has somewhat dark hair that is twined into a braid that reaches to her shoulder bones, and her slightly sharp features and her figure give me a very fit impression. Suddenly I recognize her, it is the woman that I had saved in that cave with the monster. It does however look like she has grown exponentially since that time. With her size she dwarfs the fenced off bed I am resting in, and she approaches me in large strides. I have no clue as to what is happening. Unconsciously I had tried to back away but my body doesn¡¯t move as instructed and only stumbles about. I already hate this weak and useless body, and I¡¯ve only just regained my lucidity.


    ¡°****** **** *** ******* ***** ** * ******.¡± The woman starts talking in a soothing tone. It appears that she is addressing me, as there is no-one else in the room. Unfortunately I can¡¯t understand a word of what she is saying. It certainly sounds like she is speaking some European language, but none I have ever heard before. Against my better knowledge I try to give her an answer, but once again only gibberish leaves my lips. I rack my brain, have I heard that language before? It seems to sound like some kind of mix between Germanic and Romantic languages, but it is like none I ever heard before. If I don¡¯t even know the language then where the hell am I? Another unknown is added to a steadily increasing mental list that I''ve started compiling.


    While worrying about my current situation the woman arrived at the edge of the fence, and while I powerlessly lie on my back her massive arms lift me up to her chest. While humming a soothing song in a foreign language, she cradles me like a baby in her arms. Despite feeling humiliated by this situation, somewhere within me I feel nostalgic, as I remember my parental home in a rural Village near Leiden. As I am reminiscing about my childhood suddenly my train of thoughts gets interrupted by yet another startling event. Without any warning suddenly the woman moves aside the top of her garments and bares her moderate mounds. Baffled by the situation I can¡¯t help but stare intently at what is shown to me. A large part of the top half of her body is exposed and one of her modest breasts is in full view and in fact very close to my face. As I try to avert my gaze, which is made even more difficult because of this infuriating body of mine, I can¡¯t help but take note about the state of her body. I could see it from her figure before, but the woman is indeed very muscular, and I can also that various scars adorn her skin. Is this what an amazon¡¯s body would have looked like? Well, aside from having more than one breast of course.


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    In light of these current events, I finally come with a highly probable explanation for what is going on at the moment. Being treated like this along with the evidence of the fenced-off bed, which very much resembles a play-box, clearly indicates that I currently have the body of a baby for some reason. And this woman that is presumably my mother or wet nurse, although I¡¯ve never seen such muscular wet-nurses before, must have thought that my sounds of distress where an indication that it is time to nurse me.


    Is this all happening as a result of my rash act back in that cave? Might the method that I used to save her back then have caused all this? In truth I still do not know how I pulled off what I did back there, how I managed to prevent her death. Even if I don¡¯t know the exact reason I can still act on a hunch, and I feel very strongly that my current predicament and my action back then are connected. All manner of hypotheses start springing up in my head but I¡¯m pulled back to reality as a soft sensation against my right cheek.


    I hesitate for a moment, I know what is expected from me but there is still that aversion that I have as adult for being babied like this. I feel like I¡¯m being looked at like I¡¯m acting oddly however. No wonder, if a child makes a fuss suddenly I too would come to the conclusion that it¡¯s hungry. Or that its diaper has to be changed, o god please don¡¯t let that happen to me. Anyways to her it would seem like I cried out in hunger, and suddenly I show no signs of acting on that hunger. Even if it is humiliating as an adult man to be babied like this I imagine that it might be best to play the part of a normal baby. A baby with the intelligence of an adult can only be seen as a freak at best, and demon possessed at worst. With my body being weak like this I don¡¯t want to be abandoned.


    I decide that it is best to do what she expects me to do. Hmm, so mother milk tastes like this, huh? Even though I have gained a newexperience, it somehow feels like I''ve lost something in exchange.


    .........


    Like that my humiliating days as a baby started. All this time it has not even been possible to move my head the way I want it to and my body is still like an immovable brick. It was somewhat like mental torture for me, I felt like a prisoner in my own body. Looking back even wandering around like a spirit might have been better. Several times a day I would be fed in the same way as that first time, but after a while I noted that that was one of the less humiliating things about being a baby.


    Perhaps even worse than being a helpless baby however where when my thoughts would turn back to my homeland. I often feel anxious about a lot of things. Had we managed to save the empire for example, where we on time with the fabrication of the generator? What happened to my comrades? How are those that were still alive doing? What happened to those that died, what happened to Ingrid? Ingrid¡­


    Sometimes it felt like a mockery that someone like me would be given a second chance like this. Surely there were people that deserve it more than me. One horrible hypotheses for my current state of being is that I might even have snatched this body from someone else, and the thought of having snatched the body of an innocent child makes me feel horrible.


    The only thing that could distract me from those negative thoughts was the time I spent with my mother, and learning about this new place. This new world even, apparently. I still call her mother for now as I still have not managed to get her name yet. I¡¯ve since deduced that she definitely isn¡¯t my wet nurse. I still have not seen my father yet though.


    Often mother would carry me around the house, and that gave me some insight into where I am. The house I live in now is clearly like one of those stone and wood houses you would see in the cultural centers of really old cities. It has a very rustic feeling to it. Having quite a few more unopened doors, leading to rooms I still haven¡¯t seen yet. The rooms that I have seen are the living room, the kitchen and my bedroom as well as the master bedroom on the second floor. We also seem to have a small garden in the back, and mother seems to enjoy doing garden work. It looks well-kept and pretty, even though I can¡¯t see the colors of the various plants and flowers. The furniture looked very handcrafted and strongly resembled furniture that I had witnessed in a , was it not for the fact that it seemed to be brand new, or fabricated less than a few years ago. The various tools that were used for mundane tasks also seemed quite low tech compared to the ones that were used back in the empire, but some had a strange twist to them. After seeing that deformed creature and that dwarf use it before in the cave I came to acknowledge magic seems to exist here, but it seems like magic has all sort of unexpected uses for day to day life too.


    Everything in the house from the magic tools, the normal tools, the furniture and even the stone slabs and wooden planks that hold the house together have a very handcrafted feel to them. Nothing like the factory produced products I am used to. If I were to summarize the technological level of this place it seems to be about equivalent to that of the late middle ages, although with the assistance of magic some things are far more advanced than that. I also deduced that my financial situation must be pretty good if we have all these tools and such a large house.


    Yes all those things are well and good, but I also learned that I actually do have something to complain about. When I first confirmed it, it was almost as big a shock as the fact that I have somehow been reborn as a baby. It was  my first day as a baby and I had decided to attentively listen to what my mother said to me while she was interacting with me in an attempt to learn the language. Not long after that I had somehow started to guess what some of her words might mean. I already deduced the word for ¡®mother¡¯ along with several other easy ones. Naturally I also sought to pry my own name from her, and I noticed that she kept saying ¡®Elaine¡¯ while interacting with me. Back then I had an ominous premonition. The name Elaine was not strange even in the Empire, among those originating from the Frankian territories. What bothered me about being called Elaine however, is that it was a name that was pretty much exclusively used for women.  Even though I almost felt like it was inevitable back then, I still wouldn¡¯t back down until I had one hundred percent confirmation. But because my body still refused to listen to what my brain would order it I couldn¡¯t check to see if this premonition might in fact be true. I decided to bide my time, and wait for a good opportunity to confirm it.


    It was during the first time that I underwent another humiliating fiasco because of this accursed body that resulted in the need for new underwear that I finally got to do the anxiously awaited check. Despite having mentally prepared myself beforehand, the shock I received because my fears were true was intense. I do not even know what to say of this, but it seems I will have to live with being female from now on.


    I also have had quite a while to think and sort things through by now. Thinking about my past, thinking about my future. Because other actions are impossible, I''ve had a lot of time to sort out my feelings.


    Frits Anders died in honorable service to the empire.  I will never forget the things I have experienced in that life, the knowledge I have gained. Neither will I forget my deeds and the  sins I have committed.


    Even if I vow never to forget those things, that does not make it alright to live in the past.  I¡¯ve been given this unexpected chance, perhaps undeservedly even. To dismiss such a huge boon out of hand would be nothing less than preposterous, an affront of the highest order against all those others that deserve this just as much if not more than I do. If I can¡¯t pull through and make something of this new life that would be a monumental waste. While thinking about what I can do I came to a conclusion.


    It has been a wild ride that has brought me into this situation, and along the way I have witnessed things I still can¡¯t explain. Even now there are many unknowns about my situation: Why am I alive again? Where is this house located, and what exactly is this world? Why has every other sensation returned to me, but am I still unable to see colors? After I died, what were those things that I witnessed? Those are only a few of the things that I want to learn. I am planning to accumulate knowledge and strike out these unknowns. As Elaine I vow to myself, that I will get to the root of all these mysteries.


    If I want to do all that however, I need to get this body properly under control first huh. This might become an unexpectedly arduous task. Perhaps I should slowly learn to move each muscle one by one?


    ¡­¡­¡­¡­.


    That was how my life started anew,  as a girl in a strange new world.


    ______________________________________________________________________________________________


    Author''s note:


    Well, hello again. Sorry that this one took slightly longer than the other chapters. The thing is,  those other prologues were already done, and while I was in the midst of writhing this final one I was having some second thoughts on some of the story-boarding and the direction I want to take with this story. I hope you enjoyed this final chapter of the prologue.


    The next chapter might take a while longer, as I still have to write it from scratch, while these ones already were mostly done. It will probably take a few days, but who knows, I might finish it quicker than expected.

 Chapter 1: Family

    Chapter 1: Family


    It has been close to two months now, and I realized that regaining control over my body was far harder than I could have ever imagined. I imagine this must be what it is like to revalidate after a being in coma for many years, completely revalidating meant I needed to get all my muscles in shape as it was impossible to exert any strength with them. I had to take very meager steps and slowly build up from the beginning. Getting up on my feet even now still seems like a distant goal. A normal baby would start crawling between 6 and 10 months, but I know that I can do better than that by conscious effort. What I have been training most are my pectoral muscles, for a little more than two months now I try to do some exercises that exert them to the fullest.  Thankfully my never ending efforts at least seemed to have some results, as I kept getting better at exerting force with my upper body.


    There was however also some slight concerning developments taking place. As you can imagine, trying to act like a baby all day every day is mentally taxing and probably near impossible for even the best of actors. Unfortunately I don¡¯t count among the best actors, so it is only natural that one would get suspicious looking at my behavior. I¡¯ve been part of the natural science club since my school time, and have never been amazing at the more cultural oriented courses. I never imagined that would come back to haunt me like this though. I really try to do my best in keeping up the act, only doing ¡®muscle training¡¯ when I know mother can¡¯t possibly notice and acting like a drooling idiot which seems to be the normal disposition for children my age. Even if I have never been lauded to be the most socially or even emotionally perceptive person, I do notice that mother is giving me some worried looks ever so often lately. What can I even do about that?


    Mother becoming suspicious of me would be very troublesome, to say the least. Even if I have been able to deduce some things about my new living situation, there are still plenty of things I¡¯m not in the know about. What I¡¯m most worried about is how this society treats people that are out of the norm. Even if medieval -studies has never been my field of expertise, and probably never will be, the manner of treatment odd or exceptional people received in medieval Europe is far from desirable. If only to sum up a small list of things I want to avoid most at this point: being burned as a witch, being abandoned in the wilderness or being sold off as a slave among other things.  If all these things happen here is something I¡¯m still in the dark about.


    As an act of precaution I upped my acting efforts, hoping to ease mother¡¯s worries, pulling from reserves I never even knew about and hurting my recently often damaged pride even further. Like that daily life simply trudged forward at a snail¡¯s pace, the unease between mother and me didn¡¯t increase too much, but it was still always there. Like an uninvited guest that wouldn¡¯t leave no matter what I did. As I realized I couldn¡¯t do anything about it I decided it might simply be best not to think too much about, if my hairs turn grey out of stress at my age that would be something right? Haha.


    I was starting to become extremely bored and tired having no other stimulations than eating, sleeping, interacting with mother and training. Even if I wanted to do something else, this weak body made me unable to do so. Somewhere deep inside I might have hoped for something to shake things up, to bring some new spice to this tedious daily life that was quickly becoming a chore.


    Fate saw to it that I didn¡¯t have to wait long. On an otherwise unassuming day my daily playtime with mother was suddenly interrupted by the harsh sound of our door knocker. It was still quite early, and mother usually didn¡¯t entertain guests at this hour. Unsurprisingly, mother left to open the door with a puzzled expression, no doubt wondering who our clearly uninvited and unexpected visitor might be.  As she looked out of our window that puzzled expression soon turned into an overjoyed one. I do not recall if I have ever seen mother that genuinely happy, her smile looked so radiant I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if she suddenly started shining. With incredible speed she rushed at the front door and practically ripped open the front door.  As she literally jumped to greet the visitor, she left my field of vision.


    That brings me to my situation right now. I am trying my hardest to listen in on what is happening at the door, as I am unable to see what is happening right now. I can hear mother talking to a young man outside, and occasionally I can hear some strange clanking sounds, like a crescendo of metal cans. I can¡¯t grasp too much of the conversation but I do hear plenty of laughing and giggling, making me assume that they both must be in a pleasant mood. I also hear my name being dropped, among other things. As mother says the sentence that I have recently began to interpret as ¡°Please come in!¡± that peculiar sound of metal cans identifies.  Then ¡®that¡¯ suddenly entered the room.


    It¡¯s a knight, that¡¯s what comes to my mind in this situation. Yes this is surely a full armored knight, why is he holding me up so high though? With my small size it feels like I am really high up, and heights have always been my one weakness. While desperately closing my eyes to keep my mind of my acrophobia, I try to imagine what is happening here. As I reluctantly peek to the side I see mom is watching me with an amused expression from the sidelines. If this would happen to a normal baby would cry right? Should I cry right now?


    I must have made an amazing expression, as mother hurriedly gestures the armored knight to put me back on the couch. As he does so he slides back his visor, and a wave of recognition hits me. This man does look slightly different than back then, with his unshaved looking rugged beard and his relatively long dark hair, but I recognize him as the other human that I witnessed back in that cave, that was engaging that monster in close combat. He did not wear full plate armor back then, and he also looked somewhat younger, so I did not immediately recognize him. With all the things that happened it¡¯s not hard to imagine who this man must be. Looks like father finally returned home.


    After briefly going to some other room father returned in more casual looking clothes. Currently he is trying to amuse me by making various noises and playing with my hands. I guess something like this is natural. He might have been there at my birth, as I do not have recollections about that event or for some time afterwards, but I can tell he must have left on some kind of mission for at least two months after that, doing god knows what. If I came back to my family after such a long time and to the child left behind I would shower it with love too. I attempt to return his feelings as best as I can. Most likely I will spend a large part of my life together with these two so having a good relationship would be great. Maintaining this pleasant atmosphere throughout my childhood would be the nice after all. It seems my father is satisfied with my reactions as he turns away from me with a smile and hugs mother again. I can sense a lovey-dovey atmosphere permeating from this couple. I hope my mother¡¯s mind is set at ease at least somewhat with this. She was getting increasingly stressed and seemed to be getting somewhat worried about me lately. Now that father¡¯s here to support her things might get somewhat better.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Still, that armor did give me somewhat of a surprise. A full costum fit plate like that must be quite an investment. I already had my suspicions after seeing this house, but it¡¯s quite likely that my parents belong to the higher echelons of society. After all, the ones that could afford something like this back in the old world during medieval times were mostly noblemen. I already know that both father and mother are capable fighters, after witnessing their battle against the monster, but they probably aren¡¯t some run off the mill mercenaries. Ahhhhh, I want to know more! Being a baby is so frustrating, I want to go investigate!


    After that homecoming event, day to day life continued, with some slight adjustments. From time to time father or mother would leave home, probably going back to their jobs. Most of the time one of the two would stay home to watch over me. It was during these days that I first saw that our family were not the only ones making regular use of the house. Apparently we had some kind of personal attendant that did odd jobs around the house like cleaning, maintaining our food stocks and generally looking after the mansion I am living in. He is a somewhat burly man with balding hair and a magnificent mustache that goes by the name Eustace. He seems to avoid interacting with me however, leaving most of that to my parents. The first time I saw him was when he was pruning the trees in the garden. At that time I was still wondering who he was, but after spotting occasionally and seeing the small building in the back of our garden I figured out who he was and what kind of work he did. Another servant or hire that I became far more acquaintanced with was the wet nurse that would wean me if mother was off to work for a long time. She was a kind looking woman with a homely build named Gertrude, and she would often bring her own child with her if she came to look after me. Her own kid couldn¡¯t be older than a year, so he became an excellent reference for normal baby behavior. As you can imagine, babies don¡¯t make the best conversation partners, so I didn¡¯t interact too much with the kid. She treated me kindly enough but from time to time she would have a somewhat complex expression or mutter something. Well, a wet nurse must now best how a normal baby should behave so she might have noticed something is slightly off with me. It never went to something like full blown suspicion fortunately enough, looks like my cover hasn¡¯t been blown.


    Perhaps the most important knowledge I have gained these past weeks might be the names of my parents. I am kind off embarrassed it took me this long to figure them out to be honest. When she was raising me alone mother didn¡¯t mention something that might be her name too much, and even if visitors came increasing the likelihood of learning it when they would be addressing each other, my grasp on the language was still too shabby to separate names from words, or mom would bring me back to my room. But now I finally now them both; my father¡¯s name seems to be Aidan, while my mother is named Deirdre. In my defense I have been thrown in a completely foreign country and have basically been tasked to found out its language on the go, so it is only natural that it took me this long to figure it out right?  I¡¯m sure that is the case here. It¡¯s somewhat like throwing a child into the pool to teach it how to swim right? Languages have never been my forte anyways. I might have been duo lingual but that was only due to constant exposure to media from the Empire from a young age, allowing me to pick up that language aside from my mother tongue relatively easily. Truly learning a new language was something I found very difficult. As you can imagine, I didn¡¯t travel too much.


    But enough about that. Besides these new pieces of information I¡¯ve obtained I finally reached my first goal! It has been about 7 weeks since father came home, and I¡¯ve finally done it. After tireless training and tons of trial and error, I can finally crawl relatively successfully! I would puff up my chest if I could. My technique isn¡¯t too refined yet, at most I¡¯m merely pulling my body forth with my arms, doing something that kind of resembles an army crawl. Crawling on hands and knees is still quite difficult for me, but I am sure that I will be able to do that soon enough. From there on it is training my legs and sense of balance, and the day that I am finally able to walk around might finally arrive!


    But for now this is plenty. I can finally go to places on my own now, if my parents permit me to leave the fenced bed at least. After showing both my parents my achievement they showered me with praise. The cheering improved my mood even more. But the most exhilarating thing is of course the incomparable feeling of freedom I have obtained. Compared to being unable to do anything finally being able to move around, even if it is in a somewhat limited fashion, is amazing after all.


    First things first, I am going to explore every nook and cranny of this mansion that I can get to. I do recognize that going outside is probably still too dangerous for me so I will lay that off for now until I am at least able to walk, but I am sure that there are still many sights here that I have yet to witness here in this large mansion. What¡¯s in all those rooms that I have not yet entered? Where does that hallway lead to? What¡¯s up in the attic and down in the cellar? Being close to resolving all these unknowns makes me very excited! They might count amongst the unknowns that are incomparably small compared to several of the baffling things that I¡¯ve witnessed but don¡¯t understand yet, but they are quite literally the baby steps on my journey for knowledge.


    My parents best beware, as now that I am mobile there is no way that I am going back to sitting still or laying down in my room. Let the exploration commence!


    ______________________________________________________________________________________________


    I must apologize for the long time it took me to finish this chapter. To be honest I wanted to get it finished a lot quicker than this, but I am approaching the end of my current term in my studies, and excursions, practicals took a lot more of my time and energy than expected. Anyway, I present to you the first chapter of what I have tentatively called the childhood arc of the story. I hope I get the next part done somewhat earlier, but exams are approaching so it might take a while again. I can promise at least that it won¡¯t take longer than a week or so.


    Anyways, thanks for reading the chapter. If you find any grammatical errors or other strange things please let me now and I will fix it.

 Chapter 2: Exploration

    Chapter 2: Exploration


    After having committed myself to explore the mansion and my surroundings, now was the time to strategize how to make it all happen. There were several barriers preventing me from wandering around the mansion as I saw fit, first and foremost being ascending and descending from my crib, which I get put in when no one is around to care for me, or when I pretend to be or are really fatigued. This is where my arduous hours spent muscle training come in, I wonder if I could even pull this kind of stunt in my previous life. As a bookish person I always lacked the strength and agility of my peers.


    Carefully I climb up the wooden fencing of the crib, always making sure to have maximal grip by maintaining three contact points while climbing. Falling down and hitting my head would be very undesirable, after all toddlers and babies have fragile craniums and a serious hit might cause lasting damage. Not being able to see colors is enough of a handicap for me. As my feet finally touch the ground after the arduous task I sigh in relief. My first obstacle has been cleared, now on towards the second. From my current low point of view, the massive oak door that looms in to view seems daunting indeed.


    I realized quickly that I would probably only be able to work on the hinge of the door by hanging on it with my full weight, which at this point is probably around 12 to 14 kilograms at most. That means I first need to find a way to get to the hinge so that I can pull it down, and then somehow land safely afterwards. Unfortunately, it seems like some more acrobatics are needed. First I look around the room to find something that might function as a stepping stone ore makeshift ladder. In the corner of the room I notice the chair that my mother often breastfed me on after taking me out of the crib. Yes, that will do nicely. Bracing my shoulders and full weight against the chair I start pushing it towards the door. The sound of the chair legs scraping along the hard brick floor are kind of jarring. Let¡¯s hope the noise is blocked by the thick walls of mansion and no one decides to take a peek to see what¡¯s happening.


    With a final push and once more a heavy sigh, the chair finally reaches the door. For my current body, I seem to have enacted quite the herculean feat of strength if I say so myself. Well, let¡¯s not get too conceited, I still have to climb the damn chair and open the door. Using the same climbing technique as on the crib, I move to the top of the chair. I¡¯m really delighted to find out that the chair does not intend to fall over as I climb one side, or even wobble for that matter. Am I really light-weight or is this just a really sturdy chair? As I reach the seat, I figure I might be able to reach the hinge if I stretch all the way to my limit. This is something I won¡¯t be able to keep up for long with these damned baby legs, so I need to grab my mark quickly before I lose balance. Gritting my teeth, I aim for the hinge, and find out it is just within my reach. As I pull myself up with my arms and bear my full weight down on the hinge, and with a click I hear it opening outward. I quickly release my grip as I notice the door opening automatically outwards, and just manage to safely land back on the chair. That was close, Perhaps this room is somewhat slanted for it to automatically open like that? It saves me having to push it open, so I¡¯m not complaining. After climbing down the chair I almost immediately rush towards the unknown beyond in overexcitement, before realizing that if they find out how I escaped my room might shatter the final vestiges of me being a normal child. Let¡¯s first move the chair back. A toddler crawling out of the room is still within the realm of possibility, and by moving back the chair I can make it seem like the last person to enter the room simply forget to close the door correctly.


    After masking my deliberate escape attempt with some plausible deniability, it is finally time to explore. There are many places of my home that I have not yet been shown. I know my room is somewhere up on the second floor of the mansion, and that there are at least 3 more rooms on this same floor, as well as stairway leading down on one end and a junction to the left on the other. It is probably better to not descend downwards yet, as it is still midday and down there are some saloon like rooms and the living quarters, where some servants or my parents often move around. Getting caught and brought would fail this expedition.


    While I feel my tension rising, I can¡¯t help but imagine how that officer I met on that party that celebrated the victory over Old Slavia in my other life. Wasn¡¯t he called Adrian? If a trivial recon mission like this could bring about this amount of tension than I can¡¯t even imagine how it must have felt to penetrate deep behind enemy lines and carry out sabotage. I guess I¡¯m just poorly cut out for this kind of work, but I will do what must be done. I¡¯ve deduced quite a few things during my stay here about my social positioning and financial situation, but my knowledge about this place is still severely lacking in several aspects. For one, I¡¯ve never seen the outside of this mansion or keep, and neither have I an accurate grasp on the technological level of this world. Sure, I¡¯ve seen some things, but it is clear that my parents leave most of the housework and housekeeping to the servants. This leaves me unable to deduce information on the technological advancement by looking at what manner of tools are used for these tasks. I¡¯ve also noted that the temperature indoors is somehow being regulated, keeping it at out around the same level for all the time I¡¯ve been here, at least that¡¯s how it feels. This either means that some heating or cooling system is in place or that there is no temporal variation in this place or world. I sincerely hope it¡¯s the former, as it seems the most attainable solution. Doubts keep popping up in my mind though. Even if the circumstances of that time were strange I still vividly remember the strange creature in that cave and that fight that made use of unexplainable phenomena that I can only explain away as witchcraft currently. It is most certainly possible even stranger things are the norm in this world. So let¡¯s use this as an opportunity to clear away some of these doubts and unknowns.


    As my mind kept pondering along I was also steadily progressing along the hallway, keeping my body close the wall while crawling along. The two other doors were firmly closed and I saw little way of opening them here. After peeking to the left at the junction to make sure no people were present, I moved onwards. There were 3 more rooms at this side of the L-split, and one of them was not entirely closed. As I slowly forced the door farther open, more due to a lack of strength than out of subtlety, I gaze into the room. Dim light falls through a couple of high glass windows, illuminating an assortment of wardrobes, some cushy chairs and a large ornamented mirror. As I move to the wardrobe and inspect the contents I¡¯m greeted by what I assume is fashion for well-off women. Since my knowledge on women fashion is severely lacking in both this world and my old one, I can only inspect what kind of material has been used for the dresses that I see here, while my eye-condition prevents me from checking what dyes have been used. I move towards a near toga-like dress that seems to be on the somewhat revealing side. As I touch the cloth I am surprised by its smoothness. Is this satin or silk? As I move my eyes closer I can¡¯t detect the distinct fiber like structure of plant based materials, and neither can I see any remains of veins or the like. This is undoubtedly a fine piece of tailoring, the precision of the stitches and borders seem nearly mechanical, either the work of a master artisan or made with the help of some kind of tool.


    Next I move to the mirror. Filled with thoughts about inspecting the craftsmanship of the glass, I suddenly remember that I¡¯ve never even properly looked at myself at all yet. When I peer into the mirror I am greeted by a particularly inquisitive looking toddler, wearing light-colored sleepwear. My facial features look normal for a baby only a couple of months old, and my medium long hair seems to have a matte-gray color in my eyes. What color it really is unbeknownst to me though, though some kind of ash brown seems likely it might as well be green or any colour of the rainbow for all I know. It really might be.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    After inspecting my toddler body I inspect the glass itselfs. Though it is smooth for the most part, some imperfections mar the surface. Tools have probably been used to assist in making it this smooth, but it is clearly not on the same level of smoothness or evenness of the mass-manufactured glass back in the empire. I previously thought I was in some mid-medieval setting but with what I¡¯m seeing here is making me reevaluate that assessment. The goods lined up here show that the craftsmanship of this word is at least renaissance era or perhaps even better. The gaudy decorations on the ornamented mirror also remind me of the rococo style a bit, but I was never one for the fine arts so I can¡¯t say how similar the styles are.


    As the glass windows are far too high to reach I move out the door again, placing my ear to the ground first and carefully peeking out afterward to make sure the coast is clear. Towards the left is the hallway I came from and towards my right are 2 more closed doors, with another L-junction at the end. Due to a lack of other options I make my way towards it. What greets me in this new hallway are 3 firmly closed doors to my right, and an even heavier looking door on the end, and it¡¯s wide open. Some kind of chain secures it to the wall, prevent it from closing, and inside I can see some kind of spiral staircase surrounded by cylindrical brick walls. Is this a donjon or a tower? As I move close I hear footsteps. It appears someone is moving down the stairs, lucky, I was planning on moving towards the top anyways. If my luck holds out it might be some kind of vantage point, allowing me to see a great deal of the surrounding landscape and the rest of the mansion or keep. After hearing the person opening a door all the way downstairs, I seize my chance and start crawling the somewhat uneven wooden steps. I underestimated the amount of physical exertion that was necessary for this. My toddler body is nearing its limits.


    An open arch greets my vision at the end of the endless looking stairs an open trapdoor welcomes me into the room. Inadvertently a cute sounding sigh of relief escapes me. As my head peeks out of the trapdoor I spin around to take in the sights. Compared to my own room or the changing room I explored before, this room looks extremely Spartan. The center of the room is adorned with a brazier, and I notice that the firewood has mostly been reduced to a smoldering ashy heap. Two wooden chairs adorn opposite sides of the brazier, facing the walls of the room. Next to both chairs are some small end tables. It looks like someone recently had a meal here, as crumbs line the plates that are on top of them, and a large looking bronze mug is placed next to them. That sums up everything in the room. Far more interesting are walls. Tall, vertical slits are placed around the cylindrical room, 8 in total. A chilling breeze wafts inwards from these clearly open portals to the outside. That brazier seems quite useful here, it¡¯s very unfortunate that there is no nice and warm fire blazing in it right now. Full of enthusiasm I move to one of the windows, and an enchanting landscape of smooth rolling hills enters my view. In the dim of twilight, a vast expanse of grassy meadows spread out like a sea. The chill and leafless state of the brushes and occasional tree clearly show that it must be winter right now, but a few budding leaves show that nature is slowly escaping it¡¯s chilly grasp, and soon spring will come. As I look further beyond, a dark river greets my eyes, meandering through the grassy hills in the distance. At its banks, on a safe and dry height several rustic looking houses spread out on either side, forming a small village.


    I crawl to the other side of the room that serves as a vantage point on the rest of the mansion and gaze upon my new home. The top of the tower is just a few meters above the rest of the mansion, and the dark roof tiles still seem to glisten due to recent rainfall. It seems like I really am living in a castle. Build on top of a hill slightly taller than the other ones in the region, and protected by deep waterless moats the rest of the keep embraces the green inner courtyard like an overprotective mother hen does its chicks. Build with sturdy looking bricks and standing at two stories tall, the mansion forms a U like shape, with the tower on one end of the U. The side of the courtyard without buildings is protected by a thick wall, slightly lower than the rest of the castle, and an open drawbridge and portcullis connects to the other side of the moat from that side. A small cobbled road leads downhill; it probably leads to the village but I can¡¯t say for certain as it soon leaves my field of vision due to the slope of the hill. As I take in the sights something in the corner of my eyes manages to catch my attention. Wearing a light tattered dress, a teenage girl or a somewhat young woman sits at the edge of the moat looking downward, obscuring her face with her long dark hair. Aside from the girl, I see no one else moving about outside aside from our grumpy looking gardener in the courtyard.


    Fascinated by the sights I must have lost track of my immediate surroundings, as I suddenly feel two big hands lifting me up from under my armpits and suddenly I¡¯m face to face with a burly looking middle aged man. I blank out for a second due to the surprise but immediately regain myself; it must be the sentry that came back to his post. His expression is a strange combination between relief and anxiousness, and I can still see a trace of sweat on his brow. He must have thought he stopped me from climbing out the window and falling down. Deciding that a reaction is necessary I produce some incoherent baby noises trying to sound excited, and try to touch his beard. Aside from degrading my dignity it does at least seem to elicit a smile on his face. With a deep baritone voice he says some words I don¡¯t recognize as he steadies me on his arm and he starts walking down the tower. Walking through what must be the servants quarter that I have never been to before I see many servants surprised by the sight of me, male and female alike, and as the burly sentry man probably explains the situation they come closer to take a better look. Probably thinking that it must be better to escape the situation as more and more servants are surrounding him, the man excuses himself and walks onwards, until he eventually reaches a heavy wooden door. After knocking twice and hearing a response from within he pushes open the door. In the a somewhat gaudy looking salon I spot mother and father lounging around an open fireplace, watching with as much surprise as the servants at the intruding guest. Mother quickly gets up with a worried expression on her face as she questions the guard, and while he places me gently into my mother¡¯s arms he starts talking. I can see a worried frown appear on both my parents¡¯ faces, they must have judged the situation very dangerous. Well, for a normal toddler it probably was. I hope nothing bad happens to the sentry guy, as he really didn¡¯t do anything wrong.


    As my father joins in with my mother in the conversation with the sentry the fatigue finally catches up to me. Even though I manage to gain more control over this body day by day, I¡¯m still a slave to its whims. As I accidently let out a big yawn, mother looks down and plays with my cheeks a bit, while sweetly whispering some unknown words. After the conversation dies down the sentry man seems to have a glad expressions on his face. Looks like he isn''t getting the sack or anything like that. That eases the slight bit of guilt I have a little.


    After the burly looking man left the room mother and father talk with eachother a bit and afterwards I was once again carried of into the keep. After mother ascended a familair set of stairs and walked through the hallway I face the starting point of this expedition once again. I hear mother mutter something in hushed tone as she finds the door slightly ajar, but soon after she enters the room and place me back in my baby bed, after kissing me on the cheek.


    For some time I simply lay there ruminating over the things I discovered before deciding to catch some mutch needed rest. Please, let it be a good dream this time.

 Chapter 3: questions and answers

    "Elaine, if you come sit on my lap I''ll read you your favorite story!" The sweet-sounding voice of Deirdre, my new mother, interrupts my sharp focus. I now fully understand this places language, and can even speak back a little. My accent from my previous language still seeps through from now and then, but luckily it was just treated like a talking quirk common among young children. One of the servants was tasked with making me do speaking practice, making me pronounce all the vowels and sounds I had difficulties with. I never expected to have to have lessons by a speech therapist again.


    Deciding that I can finish what I started later I put down my pencil and move away from the canvas. I''ve been at it for over two hours at least so a short break would be just great. As my mother walks into the room I''ve claimed as my atelier she takes a look at how my latest work has been coming along. "That''s amazing Elaine! That Crumbsnatcher looks like so lifelike it just might jump out of the drawing!" Her genuine praise always makes me happy. I''ve been spending a lot of the time drawing for well over a year now, and the constant practice has improved my skill immensely. But there is still always the feeling that it is not quite good enough yet, that there were more ways in which my art could improve. It seems like the path of artistry is an endless road. The Crumbsnacher in question is a kind of bird that would often drop by in the courtyard and I enjoyed feeding them some crumbs from time to time. I never knew what they were actually called but it''s such fitting name.


    I had certainly come a long way from when I started this hobby in my previous life. In school I could never be bothered by artistry and the likes, but after seeing professional scientific illustrators and their works, as well as a colleague of mine that could sketch her experiments and setups with beatiful accuracy I had started doing some practice myself. Even in my last moments, I could not have been described as a good artist though.


    "If only it weren''t for those eyes of yours, even the academia of the fine arts would not be out of your reach..."


    "It is okay mom..." I quickly tried to soothe mothers mood that was quickly becoming melancholic.


    "Oh don''t worry Elaine, even without colors your drawings are the best in the world!" It still felt like mother was just putting up a strong front for me.


    I couldn''t help but think about that day again.


    It was a warm summer day, but not to the point it could be called blisteringly hot. With little else to do and not allowed to leave the castle I decided to sketch the large tree in the courtyard that was now in full bloom and looked absolutely amazing. As I picked one of my blank canvasses and a fresh pencil from my room I set off towards the courtyard. Before I stepped out into the sun-drenched courtyard however, I heard my father calling my name.


    "Elaine come here dear, I''ve brought you a present!"


    "Really?" As I turned towards my dad that was walking towards me I noticed he had both hands behind his back. I could pretty much guess how this was going to play out.


    "Now now, don''t be hasty. If you guess correctly in which hand I am holding it the present is yours!" A mischievous smile flit across his face. This combined with his pointy mustache totally made him look like some upstart villainous aristocrat. I stared intensely at him for a few second, but he was not giving me an inch. In the end I just pointed at his right arm.


    "That one!" With a grin dad pulls a pretty wooden box from behind his back.


    "Ah, you got it correct on your first try! Well, as promised here''s your prize! O, but whatever could be inside?" Ignoring dads theatrics I take the box into my hands and after finding the two latches on the side and remove the lid. Inside a bunch of fine looking pastel crayons are arranged in neat rows, the ones you could only buy form a good art supply shop back in the empire.


    "You''ve always used pencils for your drawings, so Deirdre and I thought you would like to try using something new. These are called pastel crayons, and they have a very different feel to them than any of the pencils you''ve used so far. Now go ahead and try them out, I look forward to the result!"


    "Thanks Dad!" I gave him a big hug in response, which he quickly returned in kind by lifting me up and hugging me back, nearly making me drop the box. As he gave me a quick kiss on my cheek I noted that his mustache was especially prickly that day.


    After setting me down I quickly moved to the courtyard, eager to try out my new tools. There were a lot of crayons in the box, so it would be quite a while before they would all be used up. As I seated myself in one of the corners of the courtyard that had a good view on the tree, it took the whole afternoon before I finally was satisfied with my results. It was quite good for a first try, even if I said so myself. That was how I thought about it. I put the nearly used up crayon back in the wooden box. And went back inside with the canvas under my arms, intending to let my parents see my work.


    When I arrived at their favorite salon, where they could be most often found if they weren''t busy with work, I proudly held up the canvas.


    "It''s done dad!"


    "Oh let me see it! How has your first pastel work turned out!" Dad excitedly got up from his comfortable chair and I handed him the piece, mother was already looking at the piece from his side. After taking a look at the canvas his expression moved from one of excitement to one of puzzlement.


    "Elaine sweetie, there are so many crayons in that box, so why did you decide to only use orange to draw the tree?"


    "Orange..?" My mind blanked for a second before the implication hit me. I had never worked with colors before in my work, and decided to keep away from painting as that would be a waste of paint with this sight of mine, and I didn''t really want to let my parents know about my condition.


    "This is so strange! You clearly gave it your all to draw the tree as closely to lifelike as possible yet this colour choice doesn''t seem to fit the rest of your style at all! He started looking somewhat worried now.


    ¡°It couldn''t be that you...¡± Before He could finish his sentence my mother cut in.


    "What is it dear? It''s only a drawing right? Isn''t it a cute orange tree!" Mother interjected from the side with some suspicious praise.


    "No, it''s just... Ah lets just rule that possibility out immediately. Elaine, come with me for a second."


    With a sinking feeling in my chest I followed my father towards the bookshelf, which bulged with multiple rows of books. Even if these were the only ones in the house mother and father said they were some of their greatest treasures, and they were actually very expensive. As I stood in front of the bookshelf with mom and dad, dad gently took the box out of my hands and pulled out a crayon.


    "Elaine, can you pick a book from the shelf with the same color like this crayon?" I see no way out of this conundrum. Before my eyes the books lined up in a grand display in many different shades of gray. Looking at the crayon and back at the shelf, and after some urging on by my father I just grabbed a book from the shelf. As I turned back towards my parents, I immediately could tell I picked the wrong one. Their faces were now clearly filled with worry.


    "Your not pranking us right? Come one, here I have another crayon here. Try to get it right this time okay?" With some apprehension in his voice I repeated the previous action again, and after that another time. After five misses I wished the ground would just swallow me up.


    "She can''t distinguish any color at all Deirdre! It''s just a step back from being blind! What do we do? She might never become a great artist like this!"


    "Hush Aidan, don''t say such things while shes still here, look at her! You''re frightening her even more! Surely there must some way to remedy this!"


    "Elaine, please go outside for a while. Mommy and I need to talk about things a bit. Rest easy, this will surely work itself out okay?"


    As his hand grazed my cheek I noticed I was nearly tearing up, and the humiliation that made me feel combined with the feeling of defeat I already had. I ran back to my room and hid myself under the covers of my bed, and didn''t show myself for the rest of the day.


    The following days one healer after another would come for an appointment with me, each using different methods than the other. This was the second time I came in contact with that mysterious phenomenon I witnessed in the cave again, as the healers were clearly using some kind of unknown power. I would surely be far more excited about it if it weren''t for the circumstances, but I was certainly going to ask my parents about it at some later time.


    Each healer looked and dressed differently than the other and used seemingly different techniques, but the result was the same every time. Whatever was wrong with my eyes, it was impossible to cure. The first few times my parents and I still held hope that some other way of treatment might provide a cure, but as the days went by and the number of healers that had visited could no longer be counted by both hands, that hope had long since vanished.


    After a while, no more healers came.


    As I was reminiscing about the past I noticed I must have blanked out while sorting my drawing tools, as mom was having a somewhat impatient expression on her face.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    "Are you thinking about something again? If you don''t hurry up you might never find out how Grezarius will deal with the great demon Oz!"


    "Yes, I''m ready!" I happily followed along with changing subject, and actually do happen to be somewhat interested in the story. I''ve always loved the epics and legends from the ancient times, and this world too seems to be rich in such myths and tales. Besides that it also fulfills another role. Sometimes I would ask mom to reread some parts of the story and as mother read by following the text with her fingers, it was a good way to help learn the script of this language. After a while mother noticed I was interested in the letters so she would give me a short lesson afterwards.


    The script of this world was totally different from the one I was used to in the empire, consisting only of lines dots and accents, and combinations of these could equal a single character of my old word, but they could also form more complex sounds or even small words on their own. At present I could read a story aimed at a younger audience but the more complex books also contained more complex letters, many of which I do not know yet. Besides that, sometimes a technical or unknown term would pop up and even my knowledge of the script would not help me then.


    ¡°...........¡±You are a fool Grezarius, for thinking you ever had a chance to do anything in the first place!¡± Bellowed Oz with his screechy owlish voice as his bird like visage twisted into a savage grin.


    From the start of the fight Oz had toyed with the knight, bombarding him with fiendish magic form above without allowing him a chance to counter. He had held on to his life for so long only because the demon liked to toy with his prey.


    ¡°But this play must now come to an end, Grezarius. After I''ve eaten both your heart and that of the beloved princess Arianne I''ll spread my reign of terror over all the mortal realms!¡± A large glyph sprung forth from Oz''s clawed talons and the knight could feel the power behind that fiendish magic even from a distance. A large dome was erected centered around the fallen knight and he quickly realized he was trapped.


    The demonic magician sneered at him from outside the dome. ¡°Your air will soon run out fool. Let me accompany you in these last pitiful moments of yours, and see you struggle! No being that holds on to life has ever breached this barriers of mine.¡± The demon gleefully boasted, after seeing the knight reach for his battered weapon and getting ready for his final bout.


    As Grezarius charged towards Oz the demon did not even attempt to move aside, fully confident in the power of his barrier.


    ¡°You are the fool Oz!¡± Shouted Grezarius as he Oz neared the reach of his hallowed weapon. ¡°I''ve not held on to my own life in the longest time!¡± Seemingly ignoring the barrier the knight now stood before the perplexed demon, and in that moment of weakness he plunged his blade right through Oz''s rotten heart. ¡°I''ve pledged it to the princess and the country long ago.¡± Spending a last reserve of strength Grezarius himself was not even aware existed, he lifted the now screeching demon skewered on the blade and smashed his body back into the ground with the fiend still skewered like a piece of meat.


    After the screeching stopped Grezarius let go of his sword. He could barely make another step, but he would not dally until the princess was secure.¡±


    With a plop mom closed the book, marking the end of the reading session. I''ve been listening attentively, but is this really the kind of book you would read to a child child that just turned 3 years old? I am not complaining though, this is far more interesting than some sugar-sweet children''s tale.


    ¡°Mommy, can you use magic too?¡± I decide to simply breach the topic that has been burning in my mind for some time. What is magic exactly? How does it work, and who can use it? Sure, in the recent story the magician was a force of evil, but in many of the other tales magic has been a force for good or simply something accepted as normal. The doctors that visited me to cure my colorblindness seemed to use some strange powers too.


    ¡°Interested in magic Elaine? To tell you the truth both papa and I can''t use it to cast spells, but we have a few friends who can. Perhaps when they visit, I could let them test you to see if you hold the spark!¡±


    ¡°The spark?¡± That''s a term that I''ve never heard before. I look at mom in puzzlement, hoping she will elaborate further.


    ¡°The spark is something innate to all magic casters, though I do not know too much about what it is specifically. A wizard could probably explain it all better. Even if I can''t cast spells that does not mean I can''t make use of the power it springs from. Want me to show you how a non magician uses magic?¡± A grin appears on Deirdre''s face. I nod along enthusiastically, looking forward to watching a hands on demonstration.


    After following mom outside I see her looking around for something before hearing her mutter something along the lines of ''that shall do'', before seeing her head off for the stables. She stops before the wooden carriage that''s parked near the cables that we once used to travel to the village at the river for some kind of special religious mass quite a while back, before I was able to understand the language.


    ¡°Elaine, stand back a bit okay, and enjoy the show!¡± I would never call Deirdre a hulking woman. She is more toned than the average that I was used to back in the empire, clearly showing some degree of muscle development, but not to the degree that she does not fit into a gown or dress anymore. With that in mind, I''m currently staring at the current spectacle with some amount of disbelief. After taking a deep breath and flexing her arms for a bit, Deirdre proceeded to lift the wooden carriage into the air, even dislodging it from the mud, not stopping before she holds it all the way above her head. Aside from the absurdity of lifting that much weight with such a frame, how does this even work when keeping her center of balance in mind? Shouldn''t she topple over?


    ¡°Wow, unbelievable....¡± Some words betraying my mental state leak out of my mouth before I can contain myself. Mother clearly heard them as she carefully puts the carriage down with a broad smile on her face. After the carriage is safely on the ground I try to push the carriage myself to see if I have not been tricked, eliciting some laughter from mother.


    ¡°Hahaha, that''s not going to work Elaine. It will take you years of training at least before you reach this point.¡± She was probably right, even going all out the bloody thing simply would not budge.


    ¡°How about I teach you the basics on this starting tomorrow Elaine? Even if you end up being a magic caster later, they will surely be of use. It''s a good thing to start learning magic early¡±


    ¡°Yes please mom!¡± I''m getting excited about this! As a scientist I was previously obsessed with nuclear and molecular physics, enjoying exploring a largely unknown field that spoke of near infinite possibilities, and for the first time in this world that glimmer has once again alighted. I need to know more about this! Naturally, I''m not passing on this chance!


    ¡°There, there. It''s good to see you so excited about something Elaine. I will prepare some exercises for you to do tomorrow okay, but for now I need to get back to work. It''s fine if you dissappear to explore the mansion again, but be back for dinner okay?¡± As she says this she ruffles my hair. It''s embarrassing, but not entirely unpleasant.


    I wait for a few seconds after the door to the mansion is shut. After walking to the portcullis I look up to the tower and whistle to my fingers, and shortly afterwards a familiar visage peers down at me from the top window. Old man Gazlowe is the same sentry man that carried me downstairs after my first exploration in the keep, and around this time he''s usually posted as a watchman on the look out for visitors or threats. After I started drawing I got to know him better, as I enjoyed drawing the vistas from that highest point. He reminds me of my grandfather from my previous life, always doting on me when I was young.


    After looking at me he waves and gives me a thumbs up. That means it''s okay if I go play outside the keep for a bit, as long as I remain in view. I arranged this with him the previous day. My parents would not let me leave the confines of these walls without strict supervision, but this is a secret between Gazlowe and me.


    As I stand on the drawbridges that spans the clove that acts at our moat I can''t help looking down and immediately regret it. If I fall down there, its a drop for atleast 10 meters. Bottling up that thought I simply walk to the other edge of the moat. Glorious freedom~! Al this time I''ve been secluded in that mansion, only going out for several outings over these last couple of years. Even If I''ve already seen this all from atop the tower, it still feels different finally standing here. As I briefly frolic around and inspect the meadows at the edge of the roads, and the beautiful flowers that release an enticing fragrance. Once again I lament my colorblindness, as this place would no doubt be awash with beautiful colors.


    After frolicking around some more, I grit myself and face my actual goal for this little expedition. As I stair at the edge of the moat the enigma that has been plaguing my mind comes into view. At night or at day, every season and all this time since the first time I''ve noticed her she has been sitting there, the girl at the edge of the moat. Never have I seen her move from her spot.


    A while back I told Gazlowe about her after he told me a funny tale one of his pals told him once, but he thought I was merely trying to spook him. He could not see the girl at the edge of the moat. A fire lit up in my chest back then, that would not dissipate until this mystery had been solved. Though I do have some theories in my head, none of them can be proven without taking further action. So time for action it is.


    I know I am possibly putting myself into danger doing this as this situation is clearly unnatural, but now that I''ve come this far there is no going back. Alea iacta est.


    I approach the girl that shows no sign of noting my presence, allowing me to have a better look. Unfortunately she has her face turned, but I can now clearly see the long black hair covering her back. It is not as sleek as I thought before, but instead is somewhat scruffy. It totally covers her neck, and reaches to about the middle of her back. The arms that come out of her somewhat cheap looking tunic are definitely a shade paler than I''ve seen from anyone in the mansion. If I had to guess her age, I would say she is probably somewhere in the middle of her teens.


    After I''ve shortened the distance until I am nearly within touching range I steel myself and call out to her.


    ¡°Hey, why are you sitting at the edge of the moat? Is there something interesting there?¡± I try to come off as innocently as possible.


    In an abrupt jolt of motion the girl turns towards me, making me topple over due to a short moment of fright. As I try to regain my bearings I notice the girl has moved over towards me and is standing at my side, peering down at me. Dark bags are visible under her clearly surprised looking eyes, and looking at her face and lips her visage is even more pallid than I expected. But the most surprising thing is visible when my vision lowers to the nape of her neck, where it seems like something like a rope has made a deep imprint.


    ¡°Uh, sorry you startled me for a second¡± I try to play it off, but some cold sweat has been forming on the top of my brow. Shit, I''ve got to keep myself together.


    ¡°You, can you see me?¡± Her voice sounds somewhat drawn out, like it is difficult for her to breathe.


    ¡°Well... yes?¡±


    In my shocked and confused state I had held my hand out to her instinctively for some help getting up, and after noticing it and seeing the girl stare at it I realize my mistake. It is to late to pull it back now and make it look natural, so I look at the girl while suppressing that urge.


    With clear hesitation in her movements the girl bends down and grabs my hand, and I feel a cold soft sensation where our hands touch. The girl lets out a gasp that makes it sound like she might start chocking an second now, but she quickly regains herself and pulls me up.


    She is quite tall actually, I barely even reach her waist, forcing me to look up to see her face. The girl is still looking at the hand she touched me with in what looks like disbelief. I guess it''s best to keep playing along as I have done until now. She has shown me no hostility or any bad intentions so far, so lets not give her a reason to.


    ¡°I was wondering why you were always sitting here. My name is Elaine by the way, what''s yours?¡± I try smiling a bit to keep my fear in check.

 Chapter 4: Seance

    Practices of the occult were something I had witnessed before in the past. With the rise of the Party in the empire, romanticism toppled realism from its throne and sunk into all aspects of culture. Objectivity was discarded as inherently impossible, all is subjective. It was a way of thought that I deeply rejected, yet had to pay at least lip service to in public. Somewhere deep down, there must be a pure and objective truth, measurable with the right equipment. As a scientist, this was what I believed, my thoughts were anachronistic for my time, a relic from a bygone era.


    If reality was really subjective, it must be malleable by mind or force of will or other powers of some kind right? The rise of romanticism was naturally followed by a growing interest and rise of the occult. Even in the higher echelons of the party, the occult held sway. Some occult figures even held access to VIP''s of the party, and there were rumors of a hidden society that had ties with the upper echelon.  In my eyes they were all charlatans, making use of a fleeting fancy to claw up the social ladder, and I distanced myself from it as far as possible. My disdain for the occult was no secret, but it did not spare me from seeing it practiced occasionally, And I was forced by a superior to attend a seance session before. It was bogus probably, but the strange ritual which I witnessed in the officials mansion that day still chills me. The depths of human depravity are truly endless.


    These same chills were running along my back right now, as I was trying to strike a conversation with a possibly dangerous specter, that apparently can touch and interact with me just fine. Luckily I was not the only one that was having difficulty with the situation. The ghost was still staring with a shocked expression at the hand that helped me up my feet after that initial jump scare swept me of my feet.


    ¡°It has been so long... so this was what it felt like, to touch something.¡± A tear rolled down pallid cheeks, before quickly being wiped away by the back of her hand. ¡°To think that I still had it in me, to feel these emotions.¡± I felt her attention turn to me again. ¡°Oh sorry, my name is, Sarah, I think. It''s just been so long since I¡¯ve been able to talk to anyone, or touch anything. It overwhelmed me a bit.¡± Her voice remains raspy like before, like she has been trying her hardest to keep a cough down, but her smile puts me a bit more at ease. She doesn''t appear hostile, and friendly conversation is possible.


    ¡°Oh, I don''t mind really.¡± I reply with a smile in kind.  An honest one this time, happy about this good outcome. ¡°It is good to meet you Sarah.¡± I hold my small, childlike  hand out in greeting, and I feel cold skin envelop my fingers as she reciprocates the greeting. She holds them for quite a while after one would normally break hand contact, but I suppose indulging her in this is not really a problem.


    ¡°Elaine right? That was your name. You have no idea how happy it makes me, to finally be able to touch, to feel again. Since my death, I have been unable to do such things after all.¡± I feel her eyes size me up, trying to measure my reaction to her words, did she suspect I didn¡¯t know the breadth of the situation due to my childlike appearance?


    ¡°I can imagine, it surprised me as well you know. I figured out what your where a while back, or at least I imagined I did, but one would normally think of ghosts as being immaterial right?¡± My casual words seems to take back Sarah quite a bit, and she finally lets go of my hand. ¡°You mean you knew? That I was already dead?¡± She has a surprised look on her face. It was not that big of a mystery right? And with the marks of the rope around her neck that I''ve seen up close now, my hypothesis was practically confirmed.


    ¡°Yeah, it is pretty obvious right? I live in the castle and I''ve always seen you sitting here at the edge of the moat, untouched by seasons and time. Never moving once. I asked some of the guards about you, but they all thought I was making up stories to scare them as a kids prank.¡± My voice was a bit indignant at the end, it still struck my nerves a bit,  having no one believing my words. I used to be a respected person of in my community.


    ¡°You mean you knew and you still came to talk to me? But why!¡± Sarah flared up at me, hoarsely squeezing out those words. A flabbergasted look on her face.  ¡°Well, why you ask? I guess you could say it was due to me being curious. ¡°


    ¡°Just for that? ¡± Sarah was sending me a questioning gaze, apparently not wholly satisfied with my answer.


    ¡°I wanted to know if it was really true, what I thought you were. I want to know why you always sit at the edge of the moat. I want to know why I''m the only one that can see you, and now I want to know how I''m capable of touching you. There are a lot of things I want to know, and I hoped interacting with you would help me know more.¡± Sarah was shooting me a gaze that might have been filled with amazement, incomprehension or apprehension upon hearing my words. I had no reason to lie to her, as there had been no malice in my actions as far as I could tell.


    ¡°Well you are a bold child, I''ll give you that Elaine. Willingly approaching a ghost for something so pointless¡± She sighed a bit. ¡°You know I could have been very dangerous you know?¡± She suddenly starts lecturing me. I look like a little girl right now, but my mental age was far removed from my current form. Getting lectured to by a teenage looking girl irks me a bit. Even if it is by the ghost of one.


    ¡°It was a calculated risk.¡± I sputter back.


    ¡°A gamble you mean.¡± She shot back, and I couldn''t think of a comeback quickly, and my face must have shown my conundrum, as a wheezing sound suddenly erupted from Sarah, followed by some coughs. After looking at her face I soon realized she was laughing at me.


    ¡°Ah excuse me, that sounded more horrible than I imagined.¡± With her beaming smile directed at me like this, It almost makes me forget that I''m talking to a dead person, it melts away the indignation that had built up like snow in the summer sun. ¡°Even if it had been for worse reasons, I''m glad to just be able talk once more like this.¡± As soon as she finished this sentence I noticed a different sound, coming from the castle ramparts. That must have been Gazlowe''s signal to urge me to return to the keep, before other people would notice. Sarah must have sensed my distraction, though looking at me with a questioning look.


    ¡°It''s Gazlowe, one of the guards of the house. He only agreed to let me come here for a short amount of time, so that nobody would notice. My parents don''t want me leaving the safety of the walls after all. That was the signal that my time here''s up.¡± I solemnly declare to Sarah, I watch as her face turns from one of questioning to one of despair.


    ¡°You mean you''re leaving? But we just started talking right?¡± Faster than my eyes could follow her hands already grasped my shoulders. If she wanted to hold me here, I realized I would not be able to do anything about it with this body. But her words showed me a way that might soothe her enough to let me re enter the castle.


    ¡°I''m just going back to the castle you know? You can just follow me in right? No ones going to stop you, aside from me no one is even able to see you.¡± My words shock Sarah for a good few moments, but soon a mixture of joy and sadness twists her visage.


    ¡°You would really let me follow you?¡± A feel a faint hint of disbelief in her words.


    I''m fine with it really! I mean, there are still a lot of things I want to ask you right? Besides, I think I like talking with you. Even if you could use something to ease your throat.¡± I grin at her, and I immediately get an elated smile back, followed by a full body hug. Even though it feels soft, none of the human warmth the gesture usually provides accompanies it.


    ¡°Thank you, Elaine.¡± ¡°No problem.¡± I manage to squeeze out, she really puts more force into hugging than is necessary. After a few seconds she lets me go.


    ¡°Well, let''s go then. Oh one thing I forgot to say, I can''t really talk or interact with you if the servants or my parents are nearby, as I don''t want to make them think I''m hallucinating or behaving strangely or anything.¡±


    Sarah looks at me thoughtfully for a bit. ¡°Well your probably right, I''ll try to hold myself back then. But the way you talk about the servants and your parents, are they not servants too?¡±


    ¡°Oh, have I not mentioned I''m the lord''s daughter?¡±


    Sarah suddenly gives me a shocked look. ¡°No you have not Elaine! Is that not a pretty important thing you should make clear when introducing yourself to someone?¡±


    ¡°Well, I''ve never had to act my position or something yet, so I guessed it somehow slipped my mind.¡± That was a lie. I simply do not like people judging me for anything I have not earned myself.


    ¡°I called you bold before but perhaps careless might be a better description.¡±


    ¡°Hey, everyone makes mistakes sometime! Besides I don''t really think it''s that important.¡±


    ¡°It actually is., Elaine.¡±


    ¡°Well are you going to continue to argue or do you want to follow me inside!¡±


    ¡°Oh excuse me, lead the way my lady!¡± She was clearly messing with me, but I didn''t really mind.  I guess I really do like talking to her.


    As I passed the gate I was hailed by Gazlowe. He asked me if I was feeling alright, and it occurred to me that the interaction between me and Sarah might have appeared strange from his perspective. I told him not to worry, that being outside those walls for the first time had simply moved me and had me fantasizing about lots of new things. He showed me a gaze filled with pity, he said he would allow me to go outside whenever he could, while patting my head. I thanked him for the offer, and for giving me this chance today, before heading to the mansion. I decided to draw him a portrait as thanks later. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°How cheeky of you, tricking an old man like that!¡± Sarah grinned to me. She had been walking by my side this entire time.  ¡°Well, old man Gazlowe simply has too big a heart for his own good.¡±


    There was a notion in occult stories that certain supernatural beings could not enter a home uninvited, but I do not know if this is the case for specters as well. We had reached the door of the right wing of the manse, the fastest route to my personal quarters. As I look back I notice Sarah is somewhat hesitant about following me inside.


    ¡°Well, this is where I live pretty much. Make yourself at home.¡±


    As I walk with Sarah in tow, I realize again I¡¯ve willing invited a ghost to haunt my house. When we first entered the plaza Sarah was silent for a while, staring around in awe.  It is likely she never set foot in a nobles house before. Slowly we moved towards my own living quarters. Along the way I encountered one of the maids, and I asked her if she could deliver some refreshments to me in my room if possible. It was not the first time I had requested such a thing for one of my longer sketching sessions, so I only got a curt nod as a response.


    ¡°Wow, your really a nobles daughter huh, already ordering people around like that.¡±  After the maid was out of earshot, Sarah quickly spoke to me.


    ¡°Such things are expected of me, mother is giving me etiquette lessons as well. The class difference between both servant and master is normally strictly maintained like this. The only people I can really talk to here are my parents and Gazlowe who doesn''t really care about such things.¡±


    ¡°So you have no friends your own age, at all?¡± She doesn''t have to be so blunt about it. I can see the pitying gaze she''s showering me with, but such a thing is unneeded. I''ve lived quite a solitary life for a far longer time than can be guessed by my current appearance, and in my previous life I''ve dealt with having underlings before. It is something that I can bear.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Was all the answer that I gave her, and she remained silent until we reached my own room. My studio to be precise, where I do my sketches if the weather is to bad to do so outside. As we entered the room, Sarah let out a rasp that might have been of amazement, but I do not know for sure. Some easels with sketchworks  various states of completion are scattered about the room, and the large window that gives a great view of the castles courtyard and even a glimpse over the walls to the vast horizon illuminates the great amount of completed works that cover nearly the entirety of the walls of the room. Three cushy chairs sit in the back end of the room, their backs to the window. One is obviously sized for the vertically challenged, and is due to circumstances now my go to seat. Sometimes my parents would come by to watch me sketch, or admire the works, but since that incident their visits have almost stopped.


    ¡°Did you make all these Elaine?¡± Sarah asked with a surprised voice. As this is one of my only sources of pride in this world, I cheerfully give her my response.


    ¡°Yes, these are all works I have made, over the years.¡±


    I took a seat as I watched Sarah look at the works one by one. Seeing someone so fascinated by them makes me feel a little happiness that rarely comes to me these days. She doesn''t even notice the maid arriving with some fruits and a canteen of water, and neither does she notice her leave.


    I stare at the plate with food.  What this orange fruit is called I do not know yet. It has the texture of a tomato, but a sweetness not unlike that of raspberry, albeit with a different unknown kind of taste. I really like them, and it appears the servants know it. I do not want to interrupt Sarah that is still strongly focused on the sketches, so I decide to just wolf down the rest of the fruits while I wait.


    When Sarah is finally done looking at the works, the gloom of dusk has already set in. I lit a small lantern on one of the tables. It is filled with a mysterious liquid that emits light for a few hours when shaken, which can be used multiple times without losing its luminescent power. Another mystery of this world.


    ¡°Sorry Elaine, for making you wait for so long. My grasp of time hasn''t been that good since my death.¡± After noticing that I was nearly dozing of in my chair with an empty plate of fruits on a desk next time me she hurriedly apologized, stopping me from further slipping away into dreamland.


    ¡°Ah don''t worry. You''ve actually pleased me greatly, the way you looked at my works. I appreciate it¡± Sarah smiled somewhat at those clumsy words.


    ¡°Art is something only nobles get to see, I''ve never seen anyone as talented at sketching as you are. The way you capture everything with only a pencil, even to very fine details is really impressive. You must be the most gifted kid I''ve ever seen, on top of being able to see me and all.¡± As she spoke those words I''m reminded again about the differences between nobles and commoners in this land. This might be the first time she''s seen pencil and paper artwork at all.


    ¡°Thank you Sarah. Say, if you really like my art that much, would you mind if I made you a portrait?¡± I''ve never drawn a ghost before, breaking new grounds fills me with excitement.


    ¡°You would? Yes please, by all means!¡±  Sarah looked at me with eyes full of eagerness. I immediately went and grabbed one of the easels, moving away the half finished work on it and replacing it with a blank canvass. I moved one of the larger chairs to the center of the room, and motioned for Sarah to sit on it as I began to work. After asking her to sit as still as possible, so that I could capture her shape, she smirked as me as she stopped all movement, becoming perfectly motionless. That must be one of the perks of being a ghost. It doesn''t look like it costs her any effort to maintain either.


    I was completely swallowed by the flow of my work, so when I finally looked up from my finished portrait I noted with some surprise that it was already deep into the night. I was very satisfied by my finished product this time around. Even if the rather stationary pose Sarah took made the drawing less dynamic, the contrast between Sarah''s brilliant smile and her ghostly complexion spiced it up enough to draw attention, and I felt like I had captured her essence very neatly down to the very smallest of details. It was certainly satisfactory for my first ghost drawing.


    ¡°Is it finished? Can I move again?¡± Not long after I started contemplating my work, Sarah noticed I had finished the portrait.


    ¡°As finished as can be, with my current skills that is.¡± I replied, urging Sarah to come to my side. ¡°Do you want to take a look?¡± That did not bear repeating twice, as Sarah leaped over to my side before I could even blink, and I jolted a bit when I suddenly felt her hand on my shoulder. Was that instantaneous movement? I swear she was still sitting on the chair and in the blink of an eye she was looking over my shoulder.


    ¡°Is that really how I look right now?¡± As I faced Sarah again, I noticed her smile had dissipated.  ¡°I tried to draw you as lifelike as possible, well lifelike might not be the best word here, but you get what I mean. Yes this is how you look in my eyes.¡± After I said that she was silent for a long time. I didn''t bother to interrupt her, as she was clearly deep in thought, vacantly looking at the drawing.


    ¡°I, I remember a bit more now. Those marks, on my neck, I remember struggling, trying to fight back. But in the end he... yes a man, a man did this to me....¡±


    Sarah started pacing around the room, occasionally vocalizing her thoughts as they raced over her newly regained memories. I don''t really know how to react to this development.


    ¡°It was night, I was outside... but it was still within the mansion grounds. I remember, flowers? Yes flowers came within view, as my face was pushed against the ground.¡± As she came to that thought she suddenly froze. And grasped her head.


    ¡°I can''t remember. I CAN''T REMEMBER! What was that bastards face! I can''t recall it no matter how hard I try!¡±


    She was looking more and more unhinged, and was starting to nearly pull out her hair. Can ghosts lose their hair? Does it grow back? No, now is not the time for this!


    ¡°Sarah please! Calm down a little!¡± I try reaching out for her somewhat fearfully, Sarah was looking increasingly disturbed


    ¡°HANDS OFF!¡± Before I can even react, a force pushes me so hard I feel like I''m flying for a brief moment, Before my back crashes painfully against something very solid with a hard thunk. Briefly a flash of black crosses my eyes as I nearly lose consciousness, and I cry out from the sudden burst of pain.


    ¡°Oh no, Oh no, ELAINE! I''m sorry! I didn''t mean to....!¡± Sarah hurriedly rushes to my side as she notices what she has done, and I realize she has fortunately regained her senses. As she reaches for my shoulder, I cry out in pain again.


    ¡°It, It''s, ... alright¡± I barely manage to grunt out between the bouts of pain. Tears are forming in Sarah''s eyes as well as my own she keeps apologizing and trying to soothe me, but none of that helps right now. I made a lot of noise just now, that means the servants will arrive soon and then there will be questions, which I can''t answer. I need to think of a way out, but the pain is not helping.


    ¡°Sarah, please.. carry me downstairs!¡± I manage to bring out.


    ¡°No, you need to lay down and.. and I need to get some salve and..¡±


    ¡°Carry me downstairs! Please!¡± I interrupt Sarah''s mumbling, time is running out and the pain is nearly making me lose consciousness. Finally, Sarah tries to lift me up as gently as possible. Even for my age, I''m not to tall or heavy, so I easily fit in her arms. Every step she makes feels like a needle being hammered into my marrow. ¡°Can''t you... float?¡± I manage to croak out.


    ¡°Float?¡± Sarah stops for a moment, surprised by my request. ¡°Wait, let me try.¡± After a few seconds, her feet start to leave the ground, there was after all never a reason to touch it in the first place.  Ghosts phase through all matter, normally.


    ¡°It''s working!¡± Briefly Sarah lets out a triumphant yell, before quickly remembering our current predicament.


    Floating downwards feels a lot loss painful than walking downstairs, but it''s like putting out a fire with a mug of water. After what feels like an incredible amount of time, we are finally at the bottom.


    ¡°Yes, put me down here.. on my back.¡± She gently lowers me down.


    ¡°Why do this Elaine? If you had just stayed in the room, you wouldn''t have to suffer like this!¡± She starts questioning me now. Isn''t it a little too late to do that now? You already followed along.


    ¡°But then... I''d have to say you did this to me right?¡± I needed my parents to think I simply fell down the stairs.


    ¡°But I did! It was all my fault! I was just distraught, I lashed out without thinking! Why would you still protect someone like me?¡±


    ¡°You said it yourself right? You didn¡¯t mean to.   I''m still... breathing, I''ll make it. Some fractures at most¡± I move my hand from my chest and clasp my hand around her fingers. Her tears are falling to the ground, without staining the carpet, but as a teardrop falls down on my hand, I feel an ice cold fluid on my skin.


    ¡°My lady? What is the problem?¡±  The servant girl that brought me the fruit finally hears the commotion and walks over. As soon as she sees me lying on the ground she hurries towards the main house. Sarah stayed at my side even as the servants carried me over to the guards barracks.