Nervousness.
Anger.
These were the emotions Augustin felt when he came closer to the Lord's office. The maid, whose name was unknown to him as soon as they approached the door, opened this Pandora's box. In his mind, that very chest embodied all the malevolence he had endured during the past eighteen months. His father's office resembled a treacherous den, brimming with slithering snakes. Augustin yearned to avoid their venomous bite, yet he couldn't escape the feeling of being inexorably drawn into their midst.
As he stepped inside, his gaze was fixated on a massive, pale wooden desk buried under mountains of paperwork. Amidst the clutter, an open book with aged, yellowed pages seized his attention. Its ancient script exuded a mysterious aura, reminiscent of a crimson haze or the vibrant hues of a captivating sunset. Strangely, Augustin felt an immediate and profound bond with the book, an insatiable yearning that consumed his very essence. The relentless absence of this singular tome eclipsed even his fondest memories. Deep within himself, he knew that without its presence; he remained incomplete, as if it held the missing fragments of his being.
Approaching the book cautiously, Augustin's hand stretched out, but before he could grasp it, an unknown force propelled him against a cold marble wall. He gazed up to find a man with piercing brown eyes standing before him. It was none other than his father, Dwight Martin Osborne.
Emerging from the grip of the ancient tome, Augustin rose to his feet, confronting the individual responsible for fracturing three of his ribs. Before him loomed a figure reminiscent of a dwarf, but such an assumption would be gravely mistaken, given his towering stature surpassing two and a half meters. Brown eyes provided a stark contrast to his overtly monstrous physique, resembling that of an ogre. Dwight Martin Osborne, the imposing figure with a swarthy black mane, impeccably groomed beard, and a weathered countenance, stood before Augustin not as a father, but as his lord.
"Sit," Dwight commanded, his voice leaving no room for disobedience.
Obediently, Augustin sank into the plush leather sofa, awaiting his father's explanation for summoning him. The memory of his awakening to his bloodline still lingered vividly in his mind. Under Dwight's orders, he had been imprisoned for a year and a half, engaged in relentless battles against both beasts and humans. It was during that time that he had taken his first life... a life he deeply cherished, that of the maid who had cared for him like a second mother since childhood. Her screams haunted his nights, robbing him of sleep for weeks. Overwhelmed by guilt, depression, and self-destructive thoughts, Augustin pushed these memories deep within himself, trying to forget the person he once held dear.
It took Augustin a month to adapt and survive in those harsh conditions. Constantly besieged by hungry beasts and nightmarish abominations, he honed his bloodline abilities for self-preservation. His bloodline powers allowed him to heal wounds rapidly, induce REM sleep, purge toxins from his body, and even launch surprise attacks from within weaker human and beast bodies. Despite recognizing that his abilities had thrived in the unforgiving environment, his resentment towards his family persisted, unyielding, and possibly even intensified.
Augustin remained silent, conditioned by his father's rule to obediently follow orders without question. He had learned the hard way during his formative years ... to be an obedient son, to follow orders without question, and to suppress his curiosity unless explicitly prompted. His father's unyielding authority etched into him these principles.
Dwight stared at Augustin, his gaze penetrating, before finally speaking with a gruff tone. "Your brother Herold has vanished. He was last seen near the outskirts of the Widowing Forest. I charge you with the task of finding him, alive or dead... It doesn't matter. Avoid venturing too close to the forest's heart and rely on your skills only as a last resort. I have no use for a second fool who goes missing."
Augustin sat there, contemplating whether it was wise to inquire about his brother's unique ability. In the end, he realized that he needed to know; it would undoubtedly help him in his search for Herold.
''What was his bloodline ability... Father?" Augustin cautiously asked.
"Haven't you learned anything?"
As those words escaped his lips, Dwight abruptly rose from his desk, closing the distance between them. Inhaling deeply, he forcefully exhaled in Augustin's direction, as if expelling his frustration. Dwight loomed over his son, casting a menacing shadow, his eyes fixated on him like a predator that had stumbled upon feeble prey. Trembling, Augustin felt an overwhelming pressure bearing down on him. However, a brief stare-down revealed that his father had no immediate intention of acting against him. Realizing this, Augustin managed to regain his composure, stood up, and swiftly made his way toward the exit. His sole thought was to escape from the clutches of the beast known as Dwight as quickly as possible. But, as fate would have it, plans rarely unfold smoothly. Just before reaching the exit, Augustin heard Dwight utter his final words, "Barriers." Coming to an abrupt halt, Augustin nodded silently before finally leaving the office behind.
...
After Augustine's abrupt departure, Dwight took extra measures to ensure he was truly alone. He expanded his awareness, making sure there were no unwanted intrusions on his property. With a subtle nod of confirmation, he settled into a sumptuous brown chair that sat beside a desk adorned with an ancient book. Its worn pages held no visible inscriptions, as though it held a strong fear towards the being seated beside it. Once a formidable challenge for Augustin, the book now exhibited utmost obedience in Dwight's company. Pensively, he gazed at it for a moment before gently closing its covers, with practiced finesse employing his ability to return it to its rightful place on a bookshelf adjacent to the sofa. Dwight reclined in his chair, a sense of pride emanating from his smile. As he noticed this, his face effortlessly transitioned back to its previous stoic expression, showcasing his well-practiced mask.
"No affection until the ritual, Dwight," someone hissed, emerging from the shadows of the doorway.
"I know" Dwight murmured in agreement, "Instruct the servants to provide him with the forest area map before he departs."
...
After his departure, Augustin swiftly made his way to his former room, determined to ignore the excruciating pain as best as he could. With broken ribs on the right side of his chest, he had to immobilize his right arm until he reached the room.
Along the way, he paid no heed to the servants who greeted him. He wanted to reach his destination swiftly while avoiding any further harm to his internal organs or the risk of pneumothorax.
His room, situated one floor above his father's office, required navigating through a complex labyrinth of interconnected chambers and corridors. The intricate layout posed a formidable challenge even for the most skilled burglars, demanding both a thorough understanding of the residence's architecture and ample time to traverse it. As a result, the household servants were meticulously trained from a tender age. Their remarkable memory and innate adaptability made them ideal candidates for serving the Osborne family.
However, this emphasis on early training did not indicate a lack of experienced elder servants. On the contrary, those raised within the Osborne estate exhibited a profound attachment to their surroundings and displayed an unparalleled willingness to make sacrifices for the family. Consequently, they earned a higher level of trust and were entrusted with responsibilities that surpassed those of mere knights. These dedicated servants underwent rigorous training in swordplay and the art of assassination, equipping them to effectively safeguard the family's interests and carry out their masters' orders with utmost efficiency.
Upon reaching his room, Augustin wasted no time and immediately located a potion that he remembered keeping in the drawer adjacent to the balcony window a year and a half ago. Thankfully, his room had remained unchanged during his imprisonment. He retrieved the potion and, using his teeth to open it, placed it on the nightstand next to his bed. Sitting on his Baldacchino bed, he concentrated deeply for a moment before taking three quick breaths. Utilizing his abilities, he sought to reposition his broken ribs, followed by consuming a potion that rapidly fused his fractured bones together. Satisfied with the outcome, he reclined on the bed for a brief respite.
Despite his desire to relax, Augustin found himself unable to shake off the weight of freedom. His mind sought occupation, yet he instinctively evaded delving into those thoughts. After lying like that for a good ten minutes, he finally roused himself, gathering the three remaining potions and the sword he had received on one of his birthdays. With his belongings packed, he set out.
...
The forest lay approximately half a day away by horseback from the estate. As he exited, Augustin made his way directly to the nearby stables. Upon arrival, he promptly summoned a servant to attend to his needs.
"Prepare the finest steed," Augustin commanded, his gaze shifting towards the captivating panorama before him.
The mansion appeared as though nature itself had enveloped it, with foliage seamlessly intertwining within and around its structure. The architect's profound admiration for the surrounding trees led to their prominent inclusion as ornaments within the garden. Encircling the central focus of the garden, a picturesque lake, an expansive pathway of stone and gravel extended towards the servants' quarters. While beholding a plethora of blossoms, Augustin developed a particular fondness for a unique flower that initially presented itself as a bud with ebony-hued leaves, only to metamorphose into resplendent white pampas grass over time. This plant possessed dual properties, depending on its form: as a bud, it emitted a soothing dew, while as pampas grass, it possessed a potent sleep-inducing effect. Despite its breathtaking allure, the presence of this plant attracted various creatures who established their dens in its vicinity, rendering it challenging to approach yet even more coveted among the upper class, who sought to exhibit their prowess. This enigmatic flower was named Fernocius, paying homage to its original discoverer.
"Young master, your horse," the servant declared, grasping the reins of the horse.
In front of Augustin stood a magnificent reddish-brown bay horse, adorned with a sleek black leather saddle, a matching martingale, breaching, and an elegantly crafted elvish-style leather bridle. This equine companion was a purebred Heksonian horse, most likely imported from a faraway land across the continent. These horses were renowned for their exceptional durability and intelligence, although they were known to struggle in colder climates.
With a nod, Augustin mounted his horse and set off towards the Widowing Forest to find any trace of his missing brother.
As he rode, his mind wandered back to his recent conversation with his father. The task he had been assigned with seemed peculiar, causing Augustin to ponder its underlying reasons.
"Why was I chosen for this mission instead of a servant or a knight? With his eyes fixed on the map given to him by one of his father's trusted servants before he left the mansion, Augustin contemplated.
Having chosen a route through the nearest villages, evading the path that could potentially expose him to a beast attack, his mind incessantly replayed that crucial conversation, specifically dwelling upon the last words uttered by Dwight.
Annoyance welled up within Augustin as he pondered over Dwight's words and the deeper meaning behind them. 'Barriers,' he ruminated, can take various forms, either tangible or intangible, or sometimes a mix of both. These barriers come with their own rules, limitations, and conditions. Tangible barriers might require a specific symbol to be activated, while intangible ones could be as simple as speaking a certain phrase, effectively blocking certain aspects for everyone involved.'
It occurred to him that there might be countless options, and perhaps the only restriction is his brother's mental capacity. In fact, none of these options may even be correct in the first place Augustin just made them up.
Augustin felt frustrated by the task of finding someone, especially considering the numerous unknowns. The thought of potentially never being able to locate the person added to his annoyance.
After two arduous hours of travel, Augustine finally arrived at the first village. Weary and in need of respite, he halted his journey, not only to gather vital information about Herold's whereabouts but also to offer some much-needed rest to his horse. The village, nestled on the fringes of a picturesque pond, was a humble abode for farmers and their families.
Regrettably, fortune did not favor Augustine in his task, for the villagers had neither seen nor heard a whisper of Herold's presence.
"If even my own father remains unaware of Herold's current whereabouts, it seems this pursuit is to be far from straightforward," muttered Augustin to himself, while walking towards his horse.