My guide finally opens the door.
He walks inside the building, and I follow behind him cautiously.
"You're an odd kid you know."
The assh– I mean my guide shoots those words at me, his voice is calm but sharp.
"Depends on your definition of odd, because if you ask me, I'll say I'm not odd in the slightest. I'm just a bit... Special."
I reply to him cautiously, but a bit of attitude leaks out from my tone of speaking.
"..."
"Special you say... Right." He says in a sarcastic tone.
A mocking smirk plays on his lips, it's the first time I've seen him smile since I met him.
"But still, I find it odd that a kid who spent his whole life in a bleak, small room isn't shocked in the slightest about seeing a house as... Well– extravagant as this."
He's right.
Immediately we walked into the building– no. The house, I could sense the difference, even the air smelled different around here, the living room which we passed was adorned with ornaments of gold, a crystal-like chandelier hung up in the ceiling, you get the idea, it was a very 'upper-class' looking living room.
As we walked towards the wooden staircase that led to the hallway we are passing through now, I could see two young maids cleaning the living room.
I let out a long sigh.
Another hallway. Well, at least this one is better than the one at my building.
The hallway here isn't dark and gloomy, it's a clear, brightly lit passage with portraits hung on the wall. I look at the portraits as we walk, noticing only one thing. The people in the portrait:
They all have red hair.
I shrug.
Suddenly, the asshole halts his movement in front of me and I stop too, looking at him with a stern expression.
He turns to his left to face a large wooden door designed with golden patterns.
He gestures his hands towards the door, implying that I should go in.
"My guiding ends here. This is where you'll be having lunch with your family."
He says with a firm and cold voice that sounds indifferent, almost devoid of emotion.
Family? No.
I let out a deep exhale. I clench my fists as I steel my nerves.
I walk towards the door and I turn back to give my guide one last look.
His piercing gaze fixated directly on my eyes, with a little step backward, he pats my shoulder.
"Survive kid. Don't die."
His words carried a tiny hint of pity.
I swallow hard.
"What is your name?"
"Me? Alright. Since I deem you worthy to know, and if by any chance, you somehow survive that ritual, you'll become someone even more Worthy, so I'll tell you. My name is Sin Morderego, etch that name into your heart, do not forget it Young Master Charles."
He called me young master...
I nod my head softly.
With a fading smile on his face, he walks away.
I open the door and I walk in, ready to face whatever might come my w–
What the hell is this?!
The temperature in the room is hot, too different from the temperature outside.. it feels like I walked into a furnace or jumped into a hot frying pan.
All of a sudden, my legs are wobbly, and the strength in my legs fled.
I can barely stop myself from falling.
M–my legs...
My vision is spinning, it feels like I stepped into hell itself, and I barely keep myself together.
Sweat drips all over my body because of the heat, and my shirt is mildly soaked.
I finally collect myself, refusing to fall.
My fingers curl into a fist, my nails digging into my palm.
I bite my lower lips to maintain my consciousness, and I manage to walk away from the door, my vision is still spinning and everything around me looks like a blur.
"Impressive."
I can hear a male voice, the voice sounds like that of a child– one older than me of course.
"Oh, my stars! What are you doing to the kid, Alexander!"
I hear a sharp, feminine voice. Judging from her tone, it seems she's defending me, and someone is inflicting this phenomenon on me on purpose.
I hold my chest tightly, each breath I take laced with effort.
I can't do it anymore, I'll soon pass out, this body is that of a kid.
"You're late."
A sharp, cold voice that oozes with authority and command rings out in the air.
Suddenly, I can see clearly, the intense heat I felt slowly dissipating but still present.
I rest my hands on my knees, arching my back to take deep breaths.
Huff Huff
I raise my head to see the evil motherfu– the people that inflicted such terror on me.
On a long, wooden dining table, I can see food being cut with cutlery and eaten with a fork by three people.
There're two boys, one not too older than m– this body. The other is a teenager and opposite them on the other side of the table, I can see a woman smiling at me, she gives off a chilling feeling and next to her...
I straighten my back.
My eyes met with the gaze of the monstrosity that sat next to her.
I feel a chill crawl up my spine.
"What are you standing there for? Come and eat."
His voice, like an arrow, pierces my heart, his commanding voice compelling me to do his bidding without question.
I walk towards a chair at the edge of the table, on the same line as the two boys and I plop my butt there.
"You should be proud of yourself, I pissed my pants when I first encountered that."
A mischievous voice, belonging to the little boy talks to me.
My wariness is still alert, I shoot a cold glare at him, I don't trust anybody.
The boy's eyes widen, then return to normal, and a mocking grin divides his face.
That kind of wicked smile shouldn't belong to a kid.
He sees me as trash, like everybody else, he probably thinks I'll die today.
Then suddenly, the older kid, the one that looks like a teenager, I think my son was around his age? He slides a bowl of soup on the table towards me.
I catch the bowl and look at it, the younger kid snickers as he looks at my contorted expression.
I turn my gaze from the soup to stare at the direction of the Patriarch, my supposed father, the source of the chilling gaze that's been pressuring me.
I can see his chin resting on his interlocked fingers. He's the only one that's not eating.
He's scary.
His red hair looks like it's been dyed with blood, and his eyes are so red like blood that the first moment I locked eyes with him, I saw myself swimming in a pool of thick blood before I blinked my eyes, snapping back to reality.
But his eyes... They lack light, a spark, and emotions, his eyes are almost dead and there are dark circles under them. He looks to be in his late forties, older than me who's mentally thirty-nine. The air around him cascades with an otherworldly pressure and the regal way he carries himself gives off a feeling of wisdom and experience.
I turn my gaze away from his face, fixating my eyes on the black, thick hand gloves he's wearing that I didn't seem to notice before.
"As soon as you're done eating. We're going to perform the ritual."
He looks at me with his cold red eyes that seem to weigh my worth, judging my very being.
It's time. Finally...
I turn to look at the face of the little boy, he's grinning wickedly, from ear to ear, shooting the gaze of his crimson-red eyes at me.
I smile back at him.
It's not going to end how you think it will.
I look at the teenage boy, eating, minding his business and not looking at anybody.
And the woman, supposedly the Matriarch, keeps staring at me with a fuzzy smile on her face like I'm some kind of cute litt– oh.
I finished forcing myself to eat the bowl of soup and I stood up from my seat.
With a confident look on my face, I tell the Patriarch:
"I'm ready."
My heart stirs with determination. After this stupid ritual, I'll finally be able to learn magic.