WIP 1

“Entri run!”

The voice came from my mother just as she was cut down. To be completely honest, I wasn’t as affectionate with her as I should have been. In other words, I was a horrible son. It’s not my fault though, since I retained memories from my past life. This mother did not feel like my mother. Yet it was as she threw me clear out of the room that I finally felt love for her.

I quickly turned to run. There was no hesitation in my steps. I know how this kind of attack ends. In both history and fiction, entire houses are wiped out. The ones that survive only do so thanks to outside assistance, so when I saw my childhood friend Brutar, I felt relief flood over me. Sadly, that feeling quickly turned to spine chilling terror.

“Brutar…why?” Once he saw I was alone, he unsheathed his sword and pointed it towards me. It was the same sword I gave him for his birthday just last week.

“Why? What do you mean why? You know exactly why, usurper!” he screamed, flinging spittle into the air.

I did not know what he meant. “Usurp? Who? You? I would never hurt you or your family.”

“Liar!” I felt a blade of air hit my face as he swung his blade. “Incentivising the nobles, undermining my family’s authority, and rallying the populace? How is that without an intent of usurpation!?”

Pain and heat erupted from my shoulder as the tip of the blade sunk in without resistance. It took a moment for me to register the situation, but it was enough time for Brutar to pull out his sword before I screamed from the pain. I quickly move to cover the wound. I’m not sure if I can stop the bleeding, but I know I can at least slow the flow.

“Brutar! Cease this at once!” The familiar voice of Brutar’s father was heard behind me. Normally, I’d feel relief at hearing his voice. He was like an uncle to me. But today was a nightmare. He was the one that killed my father, and his bizarre eyes was the sight accompanying the death of my mother. He was the one who killed my parents. “We still have uses for him.”

 

Entri suddenly jolts upright as his nightmare reached its climax only to suddenly knock foreheads with a loud smack. Entri quickly reels back to soothe his pain in wasted effort. Covering and rubbing the pained area wasn’t going to make the pain go away, but it at least felt nice, and it was a natural response. The person who clashed skulls with him was doing the same thing too.

“You ingrate! How dare you attack without properly challenging me to a duel!”

The voice came from a red haired girl named Alice. Unlike Entri, Alice was unable to fall onto the floor on account of ruining her overly frilly, and most likely expensive dress. Instead, she crumpled into a weak squat while rubbing her forehead vigorously, hoping to replace pain with heat. Her acidic speech evidently, was unaffected by the head trauma.

“Why were you hovering over me while I was sleeping?” Entri asked. His pain had somewhat dulled as he was, not intentionally, the attacker. Taken by surprise, Alice’s pain was much deeper and residual.

“You ungrateful…I was sent by Master Talia to awaken you from your obnoxiously loud slumber. You should be overjoyed that I offer even a minutia of a moment to your unsightly existence!”

“And hovering over me was a necessary part of waking me?” Entri stood and put on his cloak. Entri had been using the long cloak as a barrier to avoid the tickling grass. He had been taking a midday nap to rest before his turn at night watch.

Alice blew air out of her nose in dismissal before turning and heading back to the main road. Entri was lying on a slope facing the river, so her leave was required her to lift the hems of her skirt and trudge up the hill in stomps. Entri laughed out of his nose at the sight because she had always tried to remain noble despite the inability to do so.

It wasn’t until a light gust blew by that Entri realized he was soaked in a cold sweat. The nightmare had become far more traumatic than he had initially thought. He had the knowledge of a young adult from his past life, and although he drew knowledge from the past on a daily basis, he’s still not used to being in the body of a child, which also means that even though his actions may not be of a child’s, the reactions were. In the past, he had applied various strategies to rid himself of the trauma and move on with his life, but it always came back, usually in his sleep. With nothing more he could do, he trudged up the hill after Alice.

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