He woke up suddenly on a narrow wooden bed, with light slipping through a small window, drawing winding lines across the cold floor. A strange feeling filled his chest, a feeling he had never known before, as if his entire world had turned upside down.
It wasn't just that his body felt strange—he possessed it completely. He had absorbed the spirit of the young man who originally inhabited this body, along with all his memories, habits, and details of his daily life. A wave of information and emotions flooded his mind all at once, making him feel as though he were living someone else's life, yet at the same time, he was still himself.
He moved his head slowly, touching his face and hand, trying to convince himself that this body now belonged to him entirely. Even so, the feeling of unfamiliarity followed him in every movement and every breath.
"Is this… me?" he murmured quietly, as if the words were his attempt to affirm his new identity.
Memories poured into his mind without stopping: faces he had never known, friends and companions perhaps, moments of decisions and responsibilities he had never taken, feelings toward his father and the island, and the way people treated him. Everything was real, and everything had become a part of him.
The maid knocked lightly on the door, making his heart jump for a moment, before she entered the room, her wide eyes carrying a mix of surprise and worry.
"Sir… are you all right?" she asked in a hesitant voice, as if trying to read the new emotions that seemed entirely foreign to her.
He gave her a faint smile as he tried to gather his thoughts.
"Yes… I think I'm fine… or so I believe."
She noticed his hesitation and said cautiously,
"You woke up suddenly… your father wants to know about you right away."
He sat on the bed and closed his eyes for a moment, sensing his body and its new memories, the dual consciousness tying him to his old self. Everything around him felt familiar, but not entirely his. Every movement and every feeling carried a sense of strangeness.
"Everything… everything is mine now… yet everything feels strange…" he whispered to himself as he tried to arrange his thoughts.
"I must learn… remember… and live his life as if it were my own…"
The maid paused at the door before leaving and said softly,
"Sir… I'll inform your father. Don't worry, I'll be here to help you adapt."
He nodded and looked around again. The room no longer felt foreign; he was beginning to feel it becoming a part of him. Yet he knew that this feeling was fragile, and that his new life was full of questions and obligations.
He sat longer, sensing the merging of his soul with that of the young man he had absorbed. He was no longer just a stranger in a new body; he had become that young man entirely, with remnants of his old self quietly observing everything. Every step, every movement, every thought reminded him he was living someone else's life—but at the same time, he was still himself, trying to adapt and integrate into every detail of his new life.
"I will live… I will learn… I will be me… and I will be him…" he whispered to himself, the feeling of unfamiliarity gradually shifting into a sense of control and ability to adapt, despite all the fog surrounding him.
He sat there for a long time, sensing the body and the memories, trying to weave his new life with what he still knew of himself, preparing for everything that was to come: the people, the responsibilities, and the events that would shape his future on this island.
After some time, the maid entered again after reassuring the father, her eyes filled with confusion and respect.
"Sir… your father knows you're fine, and he wants to see you in his office now."
The young man nodded calmly, taking a deep breath as he felt a mix of confidence and strangeness. He knew the place well: every corner of the office, every table, every bookshelf, every chair was familiar in his mind thanks to the memories of the body he had fully absorbed. Yet he understood internally that this knowledge wasn't truly his—it belonged to the one whose life he now carried.
He rose slowly, his steps measured, walking confidently ahead of the maid as if every movement were completely natural. A subtle tension lingered inside him: the secret of possessing the body and its memories was hidden deep within, known to no one. Every glance, every breath, every gesture was calculated with precision.
The hallway leading to his father's office was wide and covered with thick red carpet. Portraits of the family's ancestors hung on the walls—faces he recognized from the body's memories, as he had often walked through these halls. When he knocked gently, his father's voice answered, "Enter."
He opened the door and saw Lord Aldric Crossvale sitting behind his massive mahogany desk, papers scattered before him. He looked tired but composed.
The father smiled slightly upon seeing him.
"Arian… I was about to come check on you myself. The maid told me you're all right."
The young man approached with calm, practiced steps—like someone familiar with the place, although he was supposed to be seeing it for the first time. He sat in the chair across from his father, trying to hide his inner tension.
His father looked at him with stern eyes mixed with worry, unaware that the one before him was not his son—but a spirit that had taken over his son's body.
"You've been exhausting yourself lately. The servants found you unconscious in your office last night."
He sighed and continued in a fatherly tone,
"I know you're stressed about the marriage… but don't push yourself so hard."
Arian pretended to look slightly flustered, then said,
"Don't worry, Father… maybe it was just exhaustion."
His father shook his head, still unconvinced. Then he pushed the papers aside and said,
"The important thing is that you're well now. We have a lot to discuss. One month left… and you will officially marry your fiancée…"
The father continued, trying to ease the tension, while the young man listened quietly, already knowing everything through the memories he had absorbed. Internally, he began wondering how he would deal with the upcoming event without revealing the secret of the soul.
They talked for a long time. Then his father asked him to rest and meet again at dinner. After saying goodbye, the young man returned to his room.
He sat for a long while, sensing every movement in his new body—every heartbeat, every tremble in his hand as he gripped the blanket. The old memories of the previous young man flowed like a never-ending river: images of the markets, the names of the slaves, details of meetings, even how to speak to his father. He tried linking this information to his old self, but everything felt strange and double-layered.
He watched the light spilling from the small window, drawing its lines on the cold floor, reflecting on his face when he touched it. Every movement was a test: a test of control over the body, over the hidden secret that no one yet knew.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, imagining all the scenes he would face throughout the day—how he would interact with the servants, the slaves, and his father, all without revealing his true identity. This moment was a focus test, a control exercise, and a preparation for the heavy responsibilities ahead, especially the upcoming marriage that would change his life entirely. Time passed without him noticing.
When dinner time approached, he headed toward the dining room. Every step was calculated, every glance measured. He knew the corridors and doors well from the new body's memories, yet each step still felt strangely foreign, as if he were living another person's life entirely.
He entered the dining room, where the table was lit by candles spread along its length, their light reflecting off wooden and decorated porcelain dishes. The table was surrounded by chairs, with servants and slaves setting plates and serving food, all watching his movements with caution and respect.
He sat in his usual seat across from his father, who sat at the head of the table. The servants stood nearby to refill their plates. One slave stood by the door, watching those who entered and exited, while a young maid stood ready to pour water and serve bread.
His father began speaking, his voice calm but firm:
"Don't exhaust yourself in the coming days. Take some time to rest and prepare for the wedding."
The young man nodded, observing everything—the movements of hands on the plates, the sound of tea in the cups, the reflection of the candlelight on the faces around him. Everything was familiar yet foreign at the same time.
He remembered something before dinner: a strange feeling he had, something he needed to confirm.
While food was being served, he said suddenly,
"Tomorrow I'd like to visit the slave market… I want to see the place myself."
His father smiled slightly.
"Very well… but be careful. The island is large, and there are many people you still don't know."
After a moment, his father added seriously,
"And as you know, your official wedding is next month… you must be prepared for your fiancée, Lyra, the High Priestess."
A flicker passed through the young man's mind—the secret of possessing the body and its memories mixed with the responsibilities of marriage and social adaptation.
As they ate, he noticed the servants and slaves around him:
Servants carrying plates and drinks, smiling cautiously, ensuring they caused no disturbance.
Slaves standing by the walls, waiting for any commands.
A young maid offering water with a soft smile to ease his tension.
Between bites, he spoke with his father about daily matters: markets, work, meetings, and the responsibilities awaiting him on the island. Every conversation was an attempt to understand the new body and interact naturally without exposing the deadly secret inside him.
After dinner, he went back to his room and sat on his bed for a moment, absorbing everything: the sounds, the motions, the light, the people around him. Everything had become part of his new life now. Every memory, every emotion, every hidden secret tested him silently. He knew adapting to this new life and integrating fully with the new body would become more difficult over time, especially with the upcoming meeting with his fiancée, Lyra, the priestess of the island.
After a long moment of thought, he finally fell asleep.