Leon fell into a state of silence, his lips tightly pressed together and his body trembling. It appeared as though he was on the brink of tears.
Lord Hughes and Marcus strode towards the school building. Lord Hughes maintained a stony silence, not even bothering to spare Leon a glance.
Marcus trailed behind him, casting a sly glance over his shoulder and allowing a smirk to play upon his lips.
"Congratulations," he said, his tone dripping with amusement. "You played yourself."
With that, he turned his attention forward and continued walking beside Lord Hughes.
As Leon watched their figure move away, he attempted to catch up with them. It appeared that he had something he wanted to say, but as he took his first step forward, he stumbled and fell face-first to the ground.
Laughter echoed from all directions, and as I glanced around, I saw that every onlooker was laughing at him. Their stifled amusement could no longer be contained, and it burst forth uncontrollably.
It was a natural reaction, given that he had made a complete fool of himself. Not only had he dared to challenge the most skilled student in the school, but he had also attempted to harm Lord Hughes.
Given the situation at hand, what course of action should he take next? Will he confront Marcus once again and demand an apology for his derogatory remarks about his parents, or will he choose to accept defeat and head back home?
Leon rose to his feet with a sluggish pace and staggered towards the exit, his head drooping low in shame. It seemed he had chosen the latter option.
The gazes of the people around him felt like piercing daggers as he walked past them. He couldn't shake off the feeling that they were all judging him harshly. It seemed like he had lost everything in just that one moment. And as strange as it may sound, I could sense his emotions as if they were my own. The words they hurled at him felt like a personal attack directed towards me as well.
As Leon continued his walk, he tried to ignore the laughter and insults hurled his way. But they only seemed to grow louder and more cutting. It was as if everyone was out to get him, to make him feel as small and insignificant as possible. And in that moment, they had succeeded.
Leon couldn't hold back the tears any longer, and they flowed down his face uncontrollably. His crying was a pitiful sight that only served to entertain the onlookers, who viewed him as incompetent and a failure.
Watching Leon in such a state was painful, and before I knew it, tears had welled up in the corners of my eyes too, although I wasn't entirely sure why.
The girl beside me began to chuckle, as if finding the whole spectacle rather amusing. I had no idea what she found so amusing about all of this, though.
"Alas, what a sorrowful spectacle," she lamented, "Surely this must be the very reason why you have retreated into seclusion."
Huh? Was she saying that to me? Confused, I turned my head to face her.
"There's no one else here, right?" the girl asked, looking directly into my eyes. "Who else would I be talking to?"
I was momentarily confused. Hadn't we just been standing in the courtyard with a crowd of people? But as I turned to look, I realized that I wasn't in the courtyard anymore. Instead, I was back in the white space where everything was blindingly bright and I couldn't see anything else.
The girl who had been sitting in her chair, sipping tea the entire time, suddenly stood up and locked eyes with me. Her piercing obsidian-black gaze felt like it was delving deep into my soul.
"Having witnessed all that has transpired, I implore you, pray tell...do you know who you are?"
As I heard those words, my eyes widened in surprise. Who was I, really? Upon arriving at this place, I had no sense of identity whatsoever. I had no recollection of what I looked like or any clue about who I was.
Observing my reaction, the young girl's smile grew wider, revealing her pearly teeth. "So, it appears that you are not cognizant of your own identity. Intriguing," she remarked, her tone laced with a hint of amusement. "However, may I inquire as to whose past you have witnessed?"
I have a response, but I chose not to speak and answer her.
"It appears that you are still struggling to reconcile the separation of your soul and body. I daresay that tethering your essence to your physical form may have resulted in a modicum of amnesia."
She mumbled quietly. I wasn't sure if she was directing her words towards me or simply lost in thought. Rather than risk misunderstanding, I remained silent.
"Perhaps by perusing through some of your previous experiences, it may serve as a catalyst to jog your memory and bring forth a realization of your true identity. Pray, let us resume our viewing of your past, shall we?"
All of a sudden, I heard a loud snap and my surroundings started to blur and shift. The sensation was extremely disorienting, and for a moment, I felt like I was spinning out of control. After what seemed like an eternity, I finally came to a stop, only to realize that I was now standing in an entirely different room.
The room was awash with bright, natural light streaming in through the expansive windows, lending it a warm and inviting ambiance. The silk curtains, embroidered with intricate golden designs, swayed gently in the breeze, adding to the room's tranquil atmosphere.
The walls were paneled with richly polished wood, giving a sense of warmth and elegance to the room. The ceiling was high, embellished with elaborate carvings and adorned with crystal chandeliers that sparkled in the light.
At the heart of the room stood a magnificent desk, crafted from rich and robust wood, commanding attention with its imposing presence. It gleamed with gold-plated accents, its surface meticulously arranged with neat stacks of parchment, quill pens, and a polished silver inkwell. Positioned squarely in the center of the room, it faced the entrance, welcoming all who entered.
Behind the desk, sat a high-backed chair that looked like it was crafted for a monarch. A tall bookshelf towered behind it, stretching up to the ceiling and showcasing a vast collection of leather-bound tomes, scholarly volumes, and antique artifacts.
The desk was a chaotic mess of papers, documents, and books, indicating that its owner was a tireless and dedicated individual who spent countless hours in this space. It was evident that the person who inhabited this room was wholly committed to their work and approached it with an unwavering zeal.
A cozy seating area was arranged to the left of the desk, enveloped by the warm glow of a crackling fireplace. Plush armchairs beckoned invitingly, surrounding a low table adorned with maps and charts, making it the perfect spot for quiet contemplation or lively discussions.
My eyes were then drawn to the portraits of past leaders that adorned the walls. Each one represented a significant moment in the history of the Republic of Acuna.
The attention to detail was impressive, from the carefully crafted furniture to the perfectly placed pieces that created a sense of balance and harmony within the space.
I couldn't help but feel awed by the grandeur of it all— the weight of the history that seemed to permeate the air, and the knowledge that was undoubtedly housed within these walls.
Even the air felt different in this room, as if it were imbued with a sense of importance and significance. The room was truly a sight to behold. As I took it all in, I felt a sense of awe and reverence. This room was a fitting representation of a leader who embodied refined taste, style, and sophistication—someone who wielded great power and influence.
As I looked around the room, I couldn't help but feel a sense of awe. However, my attention was immediately drawn to a striking figure standing at the back, behind the wooden desk. Clad in a perfectly fitted military uniform, the man commanded attention with his powerful aura and commanding posture, even with his back turned to the door as he gazed out the window. In an instant, I recognized him as none other than Leonidas Asura III, the Head of House Asura and the current leader of the Republic of Acuna.
Just then, a hollow knock echoed at the door.
"I-I'm here…" the voice of a visitor sounded from the other side of the door.
"Enter."
Without turning around, Lord Leonidas gave permission for the person on the other side to enter.
"P-pardon me!" squeaked a nervous voice.
The door handle rattled, and soon the door itself swung open. In walked the boy whom I had watched leaving the courtyard with his head hung low just moments ago.
The boy—Leon—shuffled into the room, his head still hanging low, and he stumbled over his own feet. Almost falling, he managed to catch himself and stood up again, but his posture remained slumped.
"Close the door behind you," Lord Leonidas commanded, his voice sharp and authoritative, piercing through the tense silence enveloping the room.
Leon hastened to comply, shutting the door with an unsteady hand before taking a few tentative steps forward. I observed as he came to a halt a couple of feet away from Lord Leonidas, his eyes lowered and his body rigid with apprehension.
I was left puzzled. Why was I being shown this? Despite my repeated questioning, I knew that answers were unlikely to come.
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Hey there! As I was pounding away at the keys to bring you this epic chapter, I was being swarmed by pesky mosquitoes who just couldn't get enough of me. But hey, I'm not too worried, because I'm hoping they leave me some blood to keep me going - I'm not ready to shuffle off this mortal coil just yet! And just to clarify, in this world, feet are measured using the same unit of measurement called "feet"!
If you're digging the story so far, I'd be thrilled if you added it to your library. Your support means the world to me, and it'll help me keep cranking out more exciting tales that'll keep you on the edge of your seat. Thanks a million!