Chapter Text
“Good morning, brother! Morning, morning, MORNING!”
Something heavy pressed on my chest. I struggled to gulp air into my lungs. What was going on? Was there an assassin in my room?
With one last gasp, I shouted with every fiber of my being. “Help!!”
“Calling for Mother? Really?” The weight eased off my chest, but only a fraction.
The comment itself was strange enough, but only after a moment did I process how strange the voice itself was. High-pitched, feminine, and very bubbly, it seemed too youthful to be an assassin. Then again, I supposed nothing dictated how an assassin’s voice was supposed to sound.
A door slammed open. “Zorian, what’s going on?” asked another feminine voice, this one deeper and mature.
“I was trying to wake Zorian up like you told me to and he yelled at me!” The younger voice sounded pouty. Finally, the crushing weight disappeared.
Based on the circumstances, this did not appear to be an assassination attempt, but that only left me with more questions. Where was I? Who were these people? Who was this strange Zorian character they were confusing me for? I sat up, searching my immediate vicinity for my glasses. After a moment, I found them on the nightstand and reached to put them on…
Wait a minute. These were not my beautiful glasses.
No, not my beautiful glasses at all. They were very nice glasses, all things considered, made of pristine silvery metal and roughly square-shaped lenses with curved corners, but they were very much not mine.
Before I had a chance to reflect on that further, my thoughts were interrupted. “Zorian, enough of your childish games. You don’t have all that long before your train leaves,” said the mature voice. I glanced in the direction of the sound, but the figure was blurry. Far too blurry. Had my prescription worsened overnight? From what I could make out, the figure was a woman dressed in uniform gray with large black boots.
Seeing no other glasses in sight, I tried on the pair. By some miracle, the prescription fit perfectly.
I glanced around the room. It was plain yet nicely furnished, with all fixtures made of sturdy oak. Aside from the bed, there was a neat desk containing only a pencil cup and lamp, and two large bookshelves crammed with leathery volumes. The only other interesting item of note was a large black suitcase sitting near what I assumed was the closet door.
With my improved vision, the figure in the doorway resolved into a pale middle-aged woman with deep crimson lipstick and dark brown hair arranged so precisely in a curling half-up style that I couldn’t tell if it was natural or a wig. A foreigner, then, though she spoke Sheivoan with a native accent. The uniform gray of her clothing was a sharply cut dress suit of the type a modern noblewoman might wear to a meeting. Did this house belong to some foreign ambassador? She was no ambassador that I recognized, though.
The weight that had crushed me as I awoke appeared to be the girl who perched on the corner of my bed. Around ten years old, she had the same coloring as the older woman but none of the rigidity of fashion. Her straight brown hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her nightgown, while appearing to be of fine linen, was quite plain.
Speaking of clothing… I bent my arm to inspect the fine cloth of my own pajama shirt, only to be greeted with an arm just as pale as the other two inhabitants of the room. The fingernails were also far stubbier than mine, though the hand was well-manicured.
I checked my other arm, searching for the mole on the back of my hand, but found none.
“What’s going on?” Panic welled within my stomach.
“What do you mean what’s going on? You leave for the academy today.” The woman near the door was quite cross.
Academy? Which academy? No, that wasn’t even the main concern here. What had happened to my body? Where was I? Who were these people? Why was I here?
“Kirielle, why don’t you go get ready? I have to discuss something with your brother,” she continued. The young girl bounded off the bed and raced out the door.
Brother? I was an only child. I took a deep breath. I couldn’t lose composure every time I was hit with a new revelation. For that matter, I didn’t know what this woman wanted to discuss with me, but I certainly wasn’t in a good frame of mind to hear it.
“Apologies, Mother,” I said, since I wasn’t sure how else to address her. “I am feeling a bit under the weather at the moment. Might we have this discussion a bit later?”
She frowned. “Under the weather? You look perfectly healthy to me.”
“Just give me a few minutes. Please?” I allowed my voice to crack slightly on the last word.
She sighed. “Very well. Come down to breakfast when you are feeling better, but don’t be long. The train won’t wait for you.” She spun on her heel and left the room.
I spent several minutes merely breathing in and out, trying to soothe my rising panic. My first thought was that it was her, the terrorist woman, behind all this, but of course that made no sense. Even if she were still alive, how could she put my soul into another body? How could anyone do that? Unless this wasn’t another body at all, but a highly advanced virtual reality system. Our spies had found evidence of Fabotwon’s military developing VR techniques, though they hadn’t seemed nearly at the level of technological skill to make one think they were in another body entirely. Furthermore, what gain would the Fabotwonians have by putting the heir of Sheivoa in a simulation, especially such a bizarre one? There were also rumors of Fabotwonian super soldiers who could manipulate terion energy as matter. Perhaps one of those soldiers was somehow affecting my mind? But that still led to a question of motive.
Another, rather obvious solution presented itself after that. This whole situation was some form of hallucination. Under what conditions I needed to be in to experience such realistic feeling conditions, I couldn’t say, but nothing else seemed remotely close.
Well, if this was a hallucination (or any of the other, stranger possibilities), I would need proof. I clamored out of bed, stumbling around the room in search of a mirror. No luck.
I eased open the door and tiptoed into the hallway. The walls were richly papered in crimson with gilded accents, interspersed with several wooden doors in the same rich oak as the bedroom furniture. All of the doors were open save one, and they all led to bedrooms. I reached for the bathroom door.
As my hand touched the handle, the door burst open. I stumbled backwards, bumping my head against the wall. Ouch!
Kirielle raced out of the room, giggling. I sighed, rubbing the back of my head. Oddly enough, my hair didn’t feel all that different. Or maybe I was too preoccupied by the start of what was sure to be a nasty bruise blooming on the back of my scalp.
Now for the moment of truth. I slipped into the bathroom and checked the mirror.
I certainly looked like I could be the relative of the other two occupants of the house. Dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, pale skin. One thing I hadn’t anticipated, however, was how young I looked. My face was smooth and rounded with traces of fat, not yet sunken with age. I estimated this body to be around secondary school age. Seventeen, perhaps? Oddly, even though I seemed to move around just fine, this body was taller than what I was used to. What right did a seventeen year old have to be taller than me? Eve would no doubt make fun of me if she saw this.
Speaking of Eve… We were supposed to be meeting this morning to interrogate Michelle Dimano, the sister of an Amber Compass member. I hoped Eve didn’t think I had abandoned her. It felt strange, not having her here. As irritating as she could be sometimes, she was a dependable presence to have in Zachi, and likely would have some helpful insights on the situation at hand. At the very least, I wouldn’t be alone.
No, I shouldn’t be wishing this traumatizing situation on her just because it would benefit me. I hoped wherever she was, she was safe and doing well.
My musings were cut short by a declaration from the woman claiming to be my mother. “Zorian! Someone from the academy is here to see you!”
Right. This mysterious academy. Perhaps they would have some answers for me.
“I will be there soon!” I shouted in reply. I combed through my hair (if you could even call it mine, which I wasn’t fully sure of) with my fingers and then moved back to the bedroom to get dressed. Interestingly enough, all the articles of clothing looked like vintage South Friandan items, linen vests and sport coats and the like. The buttoned shirts and dress pants looked fairly standard, however, so I selected one of each and got dressed, adding a pair of leather loafers to complete the outfit. Finally, I descended the stairs into a polished parlor.
Two women stood in front of the velvety seats: the woman with supposed familial ties to me, and a slightly younger woman in a khaki suit and glasses, her sandy hair cut at chin length. The second woman offered a cheerful smile.
“Hello, Zorian. My name is Ilsa Zileti, and I am from Cyoria’s Royal Academy of Magical Arts. I’m here to discuss the results of your certification.”
Royal Academy? Magical Arts? What on Honau? Assuming I was even on Honau, that was. The stomach of the body I was currently inhabiting writhed.
I must have made a concerned expression, since she continued. “Don’t worry, you aren’t in trouble.” There was a knowing twinkle in her eye, except she couldn’t possibly know how wrong her assessment of my reaction was. "The Academy has a habit of sending a representative to third year students to discuss various matters of interest. I confess I should have visited you sooner, but I have been a tad busy this year. You have my apologies."
“That is… er…” I glanced at my “mother,” who was barely concealing a look of disdain towards me. It was far too similar to Father’s expression whenever I had an audience with him. I took a deep breath and straightened my spine. “That is quite alright, Miss Zileti. I deeply appreciate your arrival here, and I look forward to our discussion.”
Miss Zileti beamed. “Thank you for the warm introduction, Mister Kazinski.” Thankfully, her response seemed to placate the woman who I assumed must be Mrs. Kazinski. “Is there somewhere we can meet privately to discuss school matters?”
Was there such a place in this house? Thankfully, I was spared from my mounting panic by Mrs. Kazinski. “My daughter and I were just leaving for the market. You are more than welcome to use the sitting room.”
A couple minutes later, the two Kazinskis had left the house, and I was seated in the parlor with Miss Zileti. I had no idea what she was looking to discuss, and even less idea how to answer any questions about this strange “magical arts” academy. If this were a hallucination, it was a rather bizarre one. Maybe this really was some sort of Fabotwonian simulation and they were probing my mind for information of some kind, but if so, this whole setup seemed completely unnecessary and rather convoluted. So what was going on?
“So, Zorian. You already know you passed the certification.”
Having no idea what she was talking about, I offered a simple nod.
She handed me a scroll. I slid my finger underneath the paper to break its crimson wax seal. However, it seemed to be secured rather tightly. I added a bit more force, but it still didn’t yield. Either this body was incredibly weak, I was unadjusted to these new limbs, or both
My cheeks warmed slightly. “I apologize, Miss Zileti. I seem to be having a bit of difficulty with the seal.”
She frowned slightly. “Are you sure you’re going about this the right way?”
“I know how to open a wax seal, thank you very much.” I bit my tongue. That had come out far harsher than intended. I couldn’t stand to antagonize anyone this early. “That came out quite poorly. I apologize.”
“That’s alright. Think of what might aid you in manipulating a seal like this one.”
Manipulating, hmm. That implied it didn’t work like a normal seal. The problem was, I was at a loss for what to do. I was never very good at tasks requiring a high level of dexterity.
Unless… This woman claimed to be from an academy of magical arts. Didn’t it stand to reason, then, that if that were somehow true, that the seal would require magic to break? Except that implied magic existed here. That was an idea I wasn’t anywhere near being able to process.
Apparently Miss Zileti thought I was taking too long. Her lips twitched with disappointment. “The answer shouldn’t be hard. You passed your certification, did you not?”
“So this is a magical seal, then.”
She didn’t nod, exactly, but the creases near her mouth retreated slightly.
I stared intensely at the seal. In most fantasy novels, it seemed that characters would somehow “channel” their abilities by focusing their mind or spirit. If only I knew what to look for. Or what to sense, rather.
“Is something wrong?” Miss Zileti folded her arms.
“Apologies. I seem to be feeling a bit under the weather today.”
“Under the weather? This takes hardly any mana. Your being sick shouldn’t affect anything.”
I tried one last time, squeezing my eyes shut, tensing every muscle in my body, visualizing the seal breaking open. Nothing happened. Did I have to combine the magic with the gesture? I slid my finger underneath the seal, then squeezed my eyes shut again. It seemed magic was rather hard to use. Unless, of course, this was all some elaborate scam or prank.
“Did something happen to you, Mister Kazinski?”
I nearly laughed aloud. Something happened, alright. If only I knew what it was. Should I tell this woman what was going on? My gamble with revealing my true identity to Eve had paid off, but this situation seemed far more delicate. And even if I did tell the truth, I had no idea whether this woman would believe me, even if magic did exist here.
Still, I could try to get some help. “Yes, something happened.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “And what would that be, exactly?”
“I do not know.”
“You don’t know? How could you not know?” Her irritation was growing by the second. She sat there, staring me down for several moments. I folded my hands in front of me and dug my fingernails into my palms as I endured her piercing stare.
Then she leapt out of her seat.
“Your mana! It’s… gone!”
As I tried to think of a reply, she continued. “No, that’s not exactly right. I can still sense the mana circuits within your body. But your soul, your mana battery…” Her eyes widened.
With a wave of her hand, an aqua-colored cloud of energy enveloped me. My body froze up. Miss Zileti disappeared from the room.
I started to panic. She must have realized who I was, after all. Was she with Fabotwon? Kaandar? Sliudis? Some other kingdom? My heart rattled in my chest. Could she be from a revolutionary faction within Sheivoa? She wasn’t from Amber Compass, was she? Maybe she realized I was investigating them and decided to take action. She was going to kill me. She was going to finish the job the other woman couldn’t start and then my brains would be scattered across the carpet and Mother and Father would never know what happened to me and my life would be cut short after a measly twenty years and I would never do anything for the people in my kingdo-
Miss Zileti rematerialized, holding a glowing golden orb in one hand and a bottle of purple liquid in the other. She strode up to my immobilized form and pressed the orb against my frozen hand. Her eyes widened. A moment later, she smoothed her face into a composed, grim expression. Placing the orb aside, she held the glass bottle forward.
“Let’s keep this simple, shall we? Here I have a bottle of truth potion. You can voluntarily drink it and answer my questions, or I can make you drink it using less savory methods. Which would you prefer?”
My throat grew dry. I tried to swallow, but the saliva got stuck on the way down.
“Come on. I don’t have all day.” She crossed her arms and tapped her foot.
“Why are you doing this?” I choked out.
“Your charade is up.” Miss Zileti glared at me. “I know you’re not Zorian Kazinski.”
“That is correct.”
“What I don’t understand is what you have to gain by impersonating him. One way or another, I’ll be figuring that out.”
A small part of the knot in my stomach loosened. A very, very small part. At least at this moment in time, it didn’t seem like she knew who I was. Unless she was lying, of course.
“Might I make a request?”
She raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”
“Would you also be able to consume some of the truth potion?”
Her face contorted in contemplation. I could sense her trying to calculate my motives.
“I apologize if that is a strange request,” I continued. “The fact of the matter is, I am in a situation so absurd that I have no idea who I can trust.” Plus, this would help me determine if the strange concoction contained any poisons. Unless, of course, Miss Zileti had prepared an antidote in advance and I was purely out of luck. I tried not to think about that.
“Very well.” She waved a hand, and my right forearm was released from whatever had kept it frozen. She unscrewed the bottle and placed it in my hand.
“Would you be willing to drink it first?” I asked.
Her only response was a flat stare.
Oh dear. Oh no. I hoped this wouldn’t be the end of me. Celestial King, please protect me. I raised the bottle to my lips and downed half the contents.
Miss Zileti took the bottle from me, and before I even had time to panic about a betrayal, she finished the rest of the bottle. “There we go. Now neither of us can lie to each other.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.” I tried bowing my head in appreciation, but my body was still frozen. Even my right arm had been fixed in place again.
She took a seat on the armchair across from me and crossed one leg over the other, folding her hands. A hawkish intensity lit her gaze. She must have been used to interrogations such as these. “Who are you?”
I was worried that the words would come spilling from my lips immediately, but thankfully, the potion still let me have control over my speech. “My name is Wystan Kien Ngheim.”
“And how did you come to be in the body of Zorian Kazinski?”
“I have no idea.”
Her frown deepened at that. “No idea at all? Did anything happen to you before you awoke in his body?”
“Nothing related to this. I was assisting my roommate with errands and went to sleep. When I awoke, I was in this body.”
“What sort of errands?”
“Helping him for his concert at the Equinox Festival. Purchasing audio supplies and the like.”
She reached inside her jacket pocket and produced a notebook and pen. Somehow, it comforted me to see her jotting down my responses. I would be doing the same thing in her position.
“Tell me more about this Equinox Festival.”
“I do not know all that much about it myself. It is a big event for commoners in Zachi. I hear there is much music and dancing, and it is a popular time for local merchants to sell their wares.”
“Commoners, hmm? Then you are of noble blood, Mr. Kien Ngheim?”
Drat! Drat, drat, drat! I was trying so hard not to reveal that!
“Yes.” Technically, House Kien Ngheim was a noble house. It just so happened to be the royal family as well. Which, come to think of it, was odd that she didn’t recognize. Where were we, exactly?
“Where is this Zachi you speak of?”
“It is the capital of Sheivoa.”
“Which is where?”
Now that was strange. Most people, no matter which country I visited, had at least heard of Sheivoa. While not a super large country geographically, it had a fairly large population, and was considered a leader in technological development and manufacturing. All the Kazinskis and Miss Zileti looked to be Southern Friandan, which could mean they were less familiar with distant geography, though it certainly still seemed odd.
“In the north of Teunicia. It borders Kaandar, Rachia, and the like.”
Miss Zileti also realized something was strange. “I have never heard of any of these places you have mentioned.”
She was telling the truth. How was she telling the truth? “Do you have a world map somewhere?,” I asked. “I find it hard to believe that you have never heard of one of the three continents.”
I didn’t realize her frown could get deeper, and yet deeper it got, so that all the muscles surrounding her mouth and eyes puckered like a sour fruit.
“I had heard rumors of other dimensions with other worlds existing, but I always dismissed them as a fantasy,” she said aloud, as if talking to herself. Turning to me, as if noticing the spell cast upon me for the first time, she startled. “Mr. Kien Ngheim, if I release the holding spell, will you promise that you will not try to leave this room or cause any harm to me or anyone else?”
“I promise.”
She flicked her wrist, and the aqua substance dissipated. I collapsed forward, shuddering with relief. Embarrassingly, a few tears pooled in my eyes.
“I’m sorry for doing that, Wystan. If I can call you that.”
I straightened, even though my limbs still shook slightly. “You may. And I understand the logic of what you did. I was merely caught off guard. Magic… All of this… I was already dealing with a lot before coming here, but this is a lot to take in.”
“There is no magic in your world?” She blinked in surprise.
“No. There are a few individuals who can manipulate the energy around them and wield it as power, but it all follows very rigid natural laws. And our technology is quite advanced as well.” Thinking about it, I didn’t actually know what the technology level was like here. I didn’t see any modern electronic devices, but there was electricity powering the lamps. Perhaps the level of the early 1300s, about eighty years ago?
“Then I am utterly perplexed as to how you ended up in Zorian’s body.”
“I can say the same for myself.”
“I need to contact some of my colleagues in magical research. This is the first case of a cross-dimensional soul transplant, as far as I am aware. Provided you are willing, I am sure there would be no shortage of interest in studying your condition, and I am sure you would be sufficiently compensated for participating in studies. Seeing as how you are not a mage, I will come up with an excuse for why you cannot attend the academy, but it would still be useful for you to come live in Cyoria, since there are several prominent magical research institutes there. A friend of mine has an apartment that I can set you up with.”
This was a lot to take in. Her offer certainly sounded appealing, but I wasn’t fully sure if I could trust either her or her colleagues. “Might I ask a question?”
“You may ask as many questions as you need.”
First, I had to make sure that the potion was still working. “My real name is-” The words ‘Zorian Kazinski’ were caught in my throat, and no matter how I struggled, I couldn’t voice them aloud.
Miss Zileti watched with mild amusement. “Truth potions last at least an hour, Wystan.”
“Forgive me. Again, this is all new to me.”
“Ah, I suppose you are right.” Oddly, her face took on a faint red shade.
Somehow, that response made me more comfortable. This was a powerful mage in front of me, but she was still a person. “Then let me ask, are you concerned for my safety and well being?”
Her expression was almost as shocked as when I said magic didn’t exist in my world, though she quickly tried to hide her surprise. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“The people who killed me a few weeks ago certainly were not.”
“People who tried to–” She seemed on the verge of passing out. “What happened?”
“Political concerns,” I replied, which was technically true. “The situation has been resolved for the moment, but I confess it has left a deep mark on me.”
Her face took on a deep measure of pity. “I will not let anyone hurt you, Mr. Kien Ngheim. I swear to it myself. Though you may not be the soul of Zorian Kazinski, you are in his body now, and that is enough for me to consider you one of my students. And as a teacher, it is my duty to lay down my life for my students.”
I sniffled. Apparently the tears that I thought had subsided weren’t completely gone. “Thank you so much. That means more than I can possibly say.”
“Of course.”
Shortly thereafter, Zorian’s mother and sister returned home from the market. Miss Zileti decided that it might be better to keep quiet about the situation until it was resolved, which I felt a bit odd about, but I wasn’t too upset that I wouldn’t have to endure thorny questioning. She explained to Mrs. Kazinski that she would be able to teleport me directly to Cyoria rather than take the train.
“In that case, I need to bring up the topic from earlier,” Mrs. Kazinski said, folding her hands atop her forearms. “Your father and I are going on holiday to Koth to visit Daimen. Since Kirielle is only nine, I don’t feel comfortable bringing her along with us.”
Her message was clear. As if I didn’t have enough to worry about. I didn’t yet feel comfortable arguing with this woman, but maybe there was a way I didn’t have to. “Miss Zileti, what do you think of this situation?”
Thankfully, she seemed to catch on. “Based on our conversation before you arrived, Mrs. Kazinski, I think it would be better if your daughter did not come along to Cyoria. We are going to be engaging in quite a bit of sensitive work.” She nodded at me.
“Sensitive work? You’re not doing anything dangerous or illegal, are you?” Mrs. Kazinski’s voice took on a note of concern, which provoked a strange pang in my heart. Mother would be just as concerned if she were here, if not more so. I wanted to reassure this woman in Mother’s stead. Of course, I myself didn’t know what this research would entail, exactly. Maybe I needed reassurance too.
Thankfully, Miss Zileti was there to provide it. “I believe the risks should be minimal. It is more a matter concerning intellectual property, which I’m sure in your job you are quite familiar with.”
Now this was interesting. I wondered what sort of job Mrs. Kazinski had, though I obviously couldn’t ask her directly. Whatever it was, though, Miss Zileti’s words seemed to work on her. “I see. Perhaps Zorian could broker a deal with our company if there are any insights worth developing into something more substantial.”
Ah. A businesswoman. They were often slippery to deal with, though easy to motivate through profits. I was relieved that the situation at hand seemed to be resolved. After a brief bout of packing and a round of goodbyes, Miss Zileti teleported the two of us to Cyoria.
***
I spent the rest of the morning doing logistical work. Miss Zileti introduced me to her colleague, Dr. Viktoria Radecka, a specialist in rare magical conditions affecting the soul. She and Miss Zileti both had chin-length sandy brown hair, which I found amusing, though the cut of Dr. Radecka’s hair was a bit different. She seemed slightly younger than Miss Zileti and had a friendly grin on her rounded face. The two of us sat in the corner of a large office with several desks. Researchers whirled around the main space in a flurry, carrying sheaves of papers and questioning their colleagues, but the desk we sat at remained undisturbed.
“So you have no memory of anything happening to you? You just woke up here? Wild.” Dr. Radecka scribbled in her notebook. That seemed like a rather unprofessional comment from my perspective. Someone out there had decided to give her a doctorate, though, so I hoped she had some level of intelligence. I peered at the fragment of the pages visible from where I was sitting to see if her notes were more formal, but her handwriting was so abysmal I quickly gave up.
“I sincerely wish I had more information for you.” Though my knowledge of magic was practically nonexistent, even I realized how odd this situation was.
“No problemo. Let me call up my friend in the Dimensional Studies department and see what he knows. We’ll have to come up with some tests, see if we can compare this to any known conditions.”
“And if you cannot?” My voice came out far weaker than intended.
“I’m hoping that won’t happen. It’s definitely too early to know for sure how things are gonna go.” She glanced up from her notebook. “We’re gonna help you as best as we can, though. I promise.”
Once that meeting was done, Miss Zileti introduced me to another acquaintance: a landlady by the name of Imaya Kuroshka. She appeared to be in her forties, but had the energy of someone half her age. Her hair had an equivalent amount of energy, pulling loose from the bun tied at the base of her neck and waving like tentacles as she spoke.
“Ilsa explained the situation, Mr. Kien Ngheim. I’m sorry something so distressing happened to you. If you need anything, anything at all, please let me know.”
I bowed deeply. “I appreciate your help, Miss Kuroshka.”
“My, so formal for your age. Your parents certainly did a good job raising you.”
An image filled my head of her meeting my parents and discovering that they were the monarch and consort of a prosperous kingdom. I ducked away to hide my smile.
I followed her up to my room, dragging my black leather suitcase behind me. The space was small but clean, with a similar arrangement of bed, desk, and bookshelf as the room in which I awoke. The walls were a pale heather gray, and a large window near the bed opened into a quiet, tree-lined residential street.
“Take some time to get comfortable. I’ll be serving dinner tonight at approximately eighteen hundred if you would meet me in the kitchen.”
“Of course. Thank you dearly for your kindness, Miss Kuroshka.”
Her eyes twinkled. “Certainly.”
I decided to take her advice and try to get adjusted to my new residence. When packing the suitcase, I had attempted to fold Zorian’s clothes in a way resembling the clothing in my dresser back home, but upon opening, I found a tangled mess of laundry. I tried folding them again, but the articles looked only marginally neater than they had before. I ended up dumping them into various drawers in the dresser I discovered in the closet.
That arduous task being done, I set about doing something much more enjoyable: organizing the books from Zorian’s collection. I found a variety of tomes, from adventure novels to historical texts to magical theory. I had taken some of every subject and squeezed them in with the clothing. Now, I arranged them on the bookshelf based on subject, then alphabetically by last name.
Which book to read first? One of the history texts would probably be the most useful. I scanned through the descriptions on the back cover before selecting History of Ersetu, which seemed to be the most general text surrounding this world.
Exhausted from a long day of emotional twists and turns, I lay down on the bed and cracked open the book.
[Wystan Kien Ngheim? Is this Prince Wystan Kien Ngheim?]
I toppled off the bed. My heart pounded, overwhelming my ears. I scrambled into a seated position against the bed frame, clutching my chest. What was that ? The unfamiliar voice had almost sounded like it was speaking directly in my head. Terrifyingly, somehow the voice knew I was a prince, even though I had told no one in this world that fact. Someone was out to get me. Someone knew my secret and was using it against me. I was in deep trouble.
[Can you hear me, Your Highness? If so, focus your thoughts into a reply.]
What was going on here? Who was this, and why were they speaking to me? I clutched the bedskirt, willing the voice to leave.
[Your Highness? Prince Wystan? If you’re there, please concentrate on a message in reply. I’m sorry if I disturbed you, but this is important. My name is Zorian Kazinski, and I seem to be inhabiting your body.]
That statement finally burst the bubble of panic. [ You. What did you do to me?] I repeated the phrases in my head, hoping they would come through.
A moment later, a reply sounded in my head. [I was not the one responsible for this. But I think I know who was, and I need your help to stop him.]