Chapter 2 - Memory(1)

The world before me… it feels like a distant dream now. Not a humble or quiet dream, mind you, but one of excess—silver and gold, draped over every corner of my life. I was born into wealth, not just any wealth, but the kind that suffocates you in its sheer abundance. I was never Ren, just a boy. No, I was the heir, the crown jewel of a great lineage. From the moment I took my first breath, the world seemed to revolve around me.

I remember the estate—my home, or at least, that's what they called it. It felt more like a palace, larger than life, more majestic than anything a child could ever grasp. Servants buzzed around, tending to every whim, like bees drawn to the hive. They were always there, always watching, always waiting. My father's voice, low and commanding, would boom through the halls, issuing orders that echoed far beyond our walls. And my mother? Elegant, always poised, always adorned with the finest silks, like a queen in her castle. But love? Hah. That wasn't part of the deal, not in our family. Affection was scarce, buried under layers of formality and expectation.

But, oh, the wealth—I had that in spades. Piles of gold coins, endless treasures, whatever I asked for, it was given before I could even finish the sentence. Clothes of the finest silk, jewels that sparkled brighter than the stars—everything was mine, though none of it meant a thing to me. I was too young to understand what it meant to want something because nothing was ever denied. The gardens, vast and meticulously groomed, bloomed with exotic flowers in colors I could never name. Fountains gushed with crystal-clear water, more dazzling than the gems they were made to reflect. They were beautiful, sure, but to me, they were just there—part of the scenery, like the walls and floors I walked on. After all, what good is beauty if you never know what it's like to live without it?

The servants, though, they were the real mystery. There were so many, always flitting about, fulfilling orders, attending to my every need without so much as a word. They were like shadows, always present, yet unseen. I suppose I should have been grateful—most children would have been—but how can you appreciate something you've never had to work for? I didn't see them, not really. They were like the furniture, another piece of the great estate I was supposed to inherit one day.

And then there were the nobles. Oh, the nobles. They came in droves, didn't they? Lined up like obedient dogs, each more eager than the last to earn favor with my family. Laughable, really, how they bowed and scraped, their eyes gleaming with ambition behind those polished smiles. I could see it in their faces—the hunger, the desperation. To them, I wasn't a boy. I was a prize. And their daughters? Paraded in front of me like goods at a market, barely old enough to understand why they were there. Dressed in the finest silks, their cheeks painted red with nervous blushes as they curtsied and fluttered behind their fans. They would steal glances at me, hoping—praying—that I might glance back.

But I was seven—what did I know of such games? I barely knew who they were. To me, they were just names on a list, titles my tutors made me memorize. And yet, the weight of expectation was there, heavy on my shoulders, though I couldn't quite grasp what it was back then.

It didn't take long for the first marriage proposal to come. Seven years old, barely out of childhood, and already, I was promised to not one, but four noble daughters. Four major houses—the pillars of Valtherian society, each with their eyes fixed on the future, on securing their place through me. Hah. Four marriages, four alliances, all for a boy who could barely tie his own shoelaces.

I remember sitting in that grand hall, the one with the ceilings so high you could lose your voice if you tried shouting up to them. I was seated on a chair far too large for me, dressed in robes so heavy they might have crushed me under their weight. My feet dangled from the seat, barely touching the floor, yet there I was—the bridegroom. Four brides stood beside me, each more bewildered than the last, as we were paraded in front of the court like some grand spectacle. The daughters of power, they called them. But to me, they were just girls, just as lost in this farce as I was.

The first was Alys, daughter of House Rinehart. She was the eldest among them, or at least she looked like it—poised, composed, as if she had already resigned herself to her fate. Then there was Celia, from House Drayden, with her fiery red hair and eyes that burned with defiance. She was different from the rest—there was something in her gaze, a spark of rebellion that made me wonder if she hated this game as much as I did. Livia of House Galeforth was the quietest, always hiding behind her veil, as if trying to disappear. And finally, there was Serene from House Valera, the youngest of them all, with her wide, innocent eyes that betrayed just how little she understood.

We stood there, side by side, the future of the kingdom—or so they said. But none of us knew what that meant. We were pawns, each of us, moved around on a board we couldn't see. The ceremony was grand, as everything in my life had been. The hall was filled with people, all of them cheering and smiling as if we were the greatest love story ever told. A union of power, they said. A glorious future. But no one asked us, the boy and four girls standing at the center of it all, what we thought. Not that it would have mattered if they had. We were tools in a game far bigger than ourselves.

And me? I just sat there, staring at the gifts piled high at the end of the hall. Swords, jewels, deeds to lands I would never see. What was I supposed to do with any of it? I didn't need swords; I had no enemies. I didn't need jewels; my pockets were already full. The lands? They meant nothing to me, just names on a map.

I laugh now when I think back on it. The grandness, the pageantry, the sheer absurdity of it all. A boy, barely old enough to understand the world around him, married to four girls he barely knew, and yet the world celebrated as if it were some grand achievement. They cheered for us, not for who we were, but for what we represented—a future, a legacy.

But me? I was just... there. An actor on a stage, playing a role I hadn't asked for, in a story I didn't understand.

After getting married, all four of them stayed with me for a year, trying their hardest to be my best friends. Day and night, they were advised to get close to me, but their families never directly told them what to do—probably out of embarrassment that a princess might overhear and misunderstand their intentions. Except, of course, for one exception: the daughter of the House of Rinehart. She was the most cunning of the four, always calculating and trying to keep me in check. On the other hand, the daughter of Valdera truly cared for me, and she was the most jolly of them all.

But after my Origin Awakening—a moment everyone eagerly awaited—nothing happened. I didn't awaken a powerful bloodline. I didn't even gain a special physique, which would have been the bare minimum for someone of my standing. That's when the world started to shift. My training intensified, and I was forced into countless rituals day and night, each one designed to spark my latent powers or at least give me some kind of physique. The disappointment in my family grew sharper with each failure. I became the boy who didn't live up to his promise.

Slowly, my wives began to grow distant. Their expressions of affection became strained, and the warmth they once showed me was replaced by cold disinterest. None more so than my father, uncle, and aunt, who had grown disgusted with my failures. Everyone except my mother.

Alys, the daughter of the House of Rinehart, still played her part, acting sweet and concerned like the others, but with her cunningness, she never let her true feelings show. And little me, I didn't even realize it at the time. But as things would unfold, I'd come to understand that the disappointment in their eyes was only the beginning of my descent into hell.

Serene Valera, on the other hand, was the most genuine of the group. She cared for me in a way that felt real, even if now, looking back, it was probably the easiest way for her to navigate her role. She didn't have the cunning of Alys, nor the quiet obedience of Celia or Livia. Serene was a burst of warmth and laughter in a world where everyone else wore masks. She smiled without being told to, laughed without being forced. I suppose, in those days, I leaned on her the most—she was my refuge in a world that was slowly, ever so subtly, turning against me.

But then came the blood awakening. That pivotal moment every noble child must face, when the power of their bloodline either emerges or it doesn't. The defining moment of our heritage, our place in the world. For me, it was supposed to be a given, a formality. After all, I was Ren Kurogane, heir to one of the most prominent bloodlines. How could I possibly fail?

And yet, I did.

No power coursed through my veins, no ancient bloodline awakened. No special physique. Just... nothing. I can still recall the silence in the room when it became clear that I had failed. At first, there was shock. Disbelief. How could this happen? The heir to House Kurogane, the family's shining star, was now nothing more than a disappointment.

That's when things began to change. Slowly, like the first cracks in a dam, my world began to shift. My training became harsher, more intense. Gone were the simple exercises of childhood, replaced with grueling, punishing routines. Every day, I was forced to perform rituals, one after another, desperately trying to awaken something that wasn't there. My body grew weak, my spirit even weaker. But still, they pushed. My father, my uncle, the elders—they all threw everything they had at me, determined to force a bloodline that would not come.

And then came the disappointment. At first, it was quiet, subtle. I noticed the way people spoke to me, softer, gentler as if they were tiptoeing around a broken thing. Then, as the weeks passed, the frustration began to seep through. I was no longer the golden child, the prodigy everyone hoped for. My father, once proud and strong, began to regard me with cold detachment. My uncle avoided me whenever he could. And the maids, once eager to serve, now whispered behind my back, their once-proud service tainted by quiet scorn.

As for my wives... the change was gradual. At first, they were supportive, kind even. Serene still tried to make me smile, Livia still obediently followed her role, and Celia kept up appearances. But as the reality of my failure became clearer, they, too, began to drift away. Their smiles became forced, their conversations brief. They no longer sought my company. And while Serene and the others simply pulled away, Alys was the one who managed to keep up the charade the longest.

She played her role so well. Even now, looking back, I still can't believe how little I noticed. Alys was always there, smiling, laughing, acting as if nothing had changed. She was far too clever to let her disgust show. She was always ahead, always thinking several steps beyond everyone else. And I, blissfully unaware, continued to think that she, out of all of them, was the one who remained by my side. How wrong I was.

But I didn't know. I didn't realize any of it back then. I was still just a boy, holding on to the hope that things would return to normal, that somehow, I would awaken the power everyone had been waiting for. That the world I had known, the world I had been raised in, would remain intact.

It didn't. My world collapsed, piece by piece, and I was too blind to see it until it was too late.

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