A frail-looking young man sat on his bed glaring at the plate of a miserable soup that sat on his lap.
His magpie-black hair contrasted sharply against his pale skin, almost translucent, as if he had spent a lifetime inside ice.
"So disgusting!" he muttered under his breath, bitterness bubbling just beneath the surface.
The dull broth sloshed gently, revealing some greens and dull grains that swam in the murky liquid Infront of him..
"Atleast they could have placed some chicken thighs at the sides, or added a piece of roasted meat..!"
Helplessly, he took a deep breath.
"what choice do I have? Anyways, this will suffice for my pale, cold skin."
Giving a bowl of soup a tense look, Marcus sighed, his thoughts a maelstrom of discontent, cold and hunger.
It's been few hours since Marcus woke up on a different timeline in a foreign body of the Crown prince of that era.
But his body, so cold and pale. It was as though the owner was frozen or soaked underwater for days.
With a resolute glare, he stirred the soup, watching the grotesque ingredients swirl in a ceaseless dance.
Closing his eyes, he drew in a deep breath one more time before steeling himself.
"Definitely, I can't use the spoon," he decided, he knew with a spoon, he definitely wouldn't be able to take more than two full spoons into his grumbling tummy.
Not with the sucking looks of the soup and his trimbling hands.
With a grip, he lifted the bowl to his lips. The warmth radiated through him as he drank the soup directly, the odd flavors mingling as they slid down his throat.
By the time he set the bowl down, it stood empty.
"Urgh! "he exclaimed, frustration boiling in his chest as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"At least, am warm."
Slowly, he lay down.
"Argh!" he groaned, rolling onto his sides in the soft bed, but rest eluded him.
The silken sheets felt like they were binding him tighter, constraining him, and each attempt to find comfort resulted in a futile dance of half-turns.
"Oof! This sucks!" he cursed, desperation edging his voice as he threw the heavy blanket aside.
Not because the bed wasn't comforting, but die to his aching body.
Frustrated, he slowly lifted his trembling body, the waves of pain coursing through him like an icy wind.
"What are you doing?" a young guard exclaimed, as he ran towards him.
"Take," he grunted, steadying himself against the edge of the bed, "take me out."
As they trolled out toward the garden, Marcus, goshs! How should I even call him? Well, whatever....Crown prince Yuze Wu Pong's gaze fell upon a young man,
There, in a small clearing, knelt a frail young man. He looked as if he had been left to the whims of time itself, his pale skin sinking into the scrunching earth and the parched grass beneath him.
"Who is he?" Crown Prince Wu, or rather Marcus asked, tilting his head in concern as he gestured toward the kneeling figure.
"Him? Gah…" Lee Murong hesitated, his usual playful demeanor replaced by seriousness.
"That is Zhang Zhao." He replied casually.
As Marcus stepped forward, Lee felt the tremor of uncertainty ripple through him.
"What's wrong with him?" he thought as he observed Marcus, or rather the crown prince. "Can't he remember even Zhang?! He looks more like a different person all together. Strange!"
Suddenly a piercing sound of urgent hoofbeats shattered the stillness.
A single rider galloped towards the main entrance, the rapid rhythm of the horse's feet echoing like the backdrop to an impending storm.
As the steed came to a sudden halt, a cloud of dust erupted, swirling around the armored figure who descended with practiced elegance.
Each movement spoke of urgency; each jangle of his lacquered iron plates a call to attention
The warrior was a sight to behold, his iron helmet resembling the fierce visage of a dragon, adorned with a crest of black horsehair that writhed like a living mane.
Below, a rich head dress of crimson silk framed his fierce features, adding an air of nobility to his otherwise fearsome countenance.
The general approached, his hand resting firmly upon the hilt of his sword. Time seemed to stretch as he knelt before the prince, lowering his head in respect. .
"My Prince!" he said, urgency lacing his voice. And his hand still resting protectively on the hilt of the ornate sword at his waist.
"The kingdom is under attack....., the Tibetan army marches upon us, and they are not far behind..."
"What?" Crown Prince Wu's voice trembled, a mixture of disbelief and dread coursing through him.
"I beg to take my leave."
With that the general stood up and marched towards the main palace where the king resides.
"Wha...what was that? What have I gotten myself into? I was busy solving mysterious cases, but, look at me now, am the mystery." He cursed.
...
Crown prince Wu Pong, or rather Marcus, was a well known and respected detective in the modern world, and also a coward who depends on his wisdom mostly.
But sadly, as he went to sleep that night, only to wake up in another world, an ancient world.
"From a detective to a phycopath prince? What the hell is going on?" He muttered.
For a coward like Marcus, that would be the last thing he would wish for, 'war' not even when he was in his world where atleast, we'd say, they have guns and advanced technology, not to talk of spears and arrows.....
"Att—att—attack? Lee Murong, we have to hid, do you know any safe house, any hid out around?"
Lee Murong drew a deep breath, he could hardly believe his ears, a crown prince, talking about hiding when the Kingdom is under attack?
That wasn't the mischievous arrogant proud and egoistic crown prince he once knew.
The crown prince he knew would use the situation for his own benefit, and not hide.
"Hey! Am talking to you, do you even have a safe house, take me there. " Crown prince Wu paused, placing his hands on his waist. "Why are the Tibetans waging war on us?"
"Why wouldn't they?" Lee replied. "Not after what you did to their princess. And you—you even had the guts to refuse marrying her?!"
The whole situation was driving him insane, foreign place, new body, insane accusations and responsibilities, gosh! It was just too much for a lazy coward like him.
"Impossible!"
"Hahahah…"
A devilish, creepy laughter echoed from behind, a sound so disconcerting that it sent a shiver down the spines of all who heard it.
The figures stood frozen, turning slowly to face the unnatural source of that sound.
What their eyes gazed upon was beyond comprehension, it was something that their lips won't describe.