What a sorry state of affairs!
That's what anyone would think when looking at the interior of the house.
There was a spacious kitchen, which was accompanied by a very nice living room with armchairs.
Right at the entrance, there was a corridor with a master bedroom and three guest bedrooms, as well as a bathroom in each room.
There was also a staircase leading to the second floor, where there was a library.
The whole house seemed to have been planned for several people, but it was uninhabited.
Therefore, the atmosphere was usually bleak, lonely and silent.
I sighed and entered the room, and literally as if by magic, the lights in the house came on automatically.
The whole house was equipped with the latest technology, created after much research, and humans called it Magi-tec or magical technology.
The perfect combination of science and mysticism, widely used across the globe, was applied to refrigerators, stoves, electricity and, of course, the small war conflicts that sometimes flared up between the three continents.
Magi-tec was probably one of the greatest prides of modern humanity, and that wouldn't be surprising, because this technology changed the world we live in.
We had taken a huge step forward when it came to technology and human prosperity.
However, we were still stuck with a system of government strongly based on feudalism.
I headed for my room, putting aside thoughts of technological advances.
I turned the door handle and the lights came on quickly, illuminating the spacious but simple room.
It consisted of a large bed in the center, a small bookcase next to it, a closet for clothes and a window on the side.
Simple, ordinary and undecorated, but just the way I like it.
The only unusual thing in the room was an object leaning against the bookcase, which attracted all my attention like a lady of the night seduces an innocent young man.
I placed the small box in my hands on the shelf and grabbed the object.
My sword, to which I had devoted so much time.
A beautiful weapon, with an ivory handle wrapped in leather straps and silver fillets embedded in the hand guard.
Even the blade's scabbard shows exquisite beauty.
The sheath, made of damascene metal, had gold threads on the sides.
It was so beautiful that I could almost hear the blade begging me to take it out of the sheath, and that's exactly what I did.
I carefully and maneuveringly pulled out the blade, an act that was impregnated in my body.
And finally I revealed the beautiful silver blade, 120 centimeters long and 2.5 centimeters thick, pure murderous beauty.
A rapier, an elegant weapon for sophisticated duels, a gentleman's weapon.
However, this beauty was already coming to an end.
I noticed, with an unexpected sadness in my heart, that there were already rust marks on the base of the blade, as well as some scattered splinters.
This wasn't unexpected; I knew it would happen at some point, after all, this rapier had been in the family for over 30 years.
It was ironic that my few clear memories were of knowledge and training under the sun until nightfall.
It was a real shame that I had to throw away all those years of training, the days under the intense sun.
The way of the warrior was for those willing to sacrifice their bodies and accept death.
However, I don't want to die, not this time.
I want to explore the lands and secrets of this wonderful world.
To observe the sea of stars under the night.
And maybe create a family, find someone I love and who loves me back.
I would only be able to do all this if I survived everything the world had to throw at me.
And a no-talent like me wouldn't survive the turbulence afterwards by being a warrior.
So, with a squeeze in my heart, I put the sword back in its scabbard one last time and laid it beside the bed.
I felt like I was abandoning my favorite lover, but it was necessary.
However, I couldn't give up training.
I looked at my hands.
There were calluses and scars, hardly the hand of a young man.
I couldn't even remember half of those scars.
I sighed and lay down on the comfortable bed.
There was a lot to do: training, plans and so on.
But I needed to rest in the hope of clearing up the foggy memories; if it didn't work, I'd have to adapt with whatever was available.
I looked out of the window and it was still possible to see beams of sunlight coming into the room.
It was good, there was still time to rest and then find a bow to start practicing with.
A little rest wouldn't hurt anyone.
I closed my eyes and let the tiredness take over my mind, praying internally to at least have a decent dream.
"Ahhh!"
I was startled out of bed by a scream of sheer terror.
However, there was only one resident in the house.
My heart was pounding as if I had run a marathon.
Cold sweat poured down my body and my throat was as dry as if I had spent days in the desert.
With a certain astonishment, I realized that tears were running down my cheeks.
I put my hands to my eyes to wipe them away and sat up in bed, taking deep breaths to calm my body down.
What nightmare was that?
It had been many years since I had woken up screaming and crying like a child.
I tried to remember the nightmare, but nothing came to mind, just a feeling that it was something horrifying.
After a while, my body gradually calmed down.
I took one last deep breath and got out of bed.
I looked at the window and noticed something quite surprising: there was no more light coming in.
Nightfall had arrived.
I had fallen asleep longer than expected. Could it be that I was so tired?
There was no more time for training, and I didn't feel like falling asleep again either, not after a nightmare like that.
I groped my body lightly and could see the consequence of the sweat.
A shower would be much appreciated.
I grabbed some pants and a shirt from the closet and quickly headed for the bathroom, which already had the door open - a habit I would have to fix, because it would be embarrassing if I were in the bathroom and Amy walked into my house and I knew her well enough to know that she would be scandalized.
I entered a fairly simple bathroom.
Just like the rest of the house, the bathroom contained only the bare necessities: a sink with a tap, a mirror, a toilet and a bathtub.
Carefully, I took off my gym uniform, button by button.
However, I stopped as soon as I took off my shirt.
I looked at my bare chest, without a single strand of hair, and for a brief moment I felt strange about my own body.
At some unknown moment, the fog in my memories had dissipated, and they were all with me again.
However, I felt no satisfaction from this, because everything seemed distant, as if I were a mere spectator of my own story.
I didn't feel like Dante kain bell.
My memories as Dante Alighieri seemed more vivid, more full of color and emotion.
Everything seemed so anomalous and, at the same time, so familiar.
My own body reflected this contradiction.
I remember being bulkier and more muscular, but at the same time I was sure that there was nothing wrong with my body.
It was a leaner body, but full of explosive and refined power, forged with a lot of dedication and training, a body built to be that of a fencer, and a body I was used to seeing.
However, it's not just the body that's incongruous.
I approached the mirror and looked closely at the young man reflected in the surface.
His hair was light brown, tied in a short ponytail with bangs near his dark brown eyes, which contained a dot near his right eye.
His gaze had a depth that a 15-year-old boy shouldn't have.
The young man also has a defined and somewhat thin face, with slightly prominent cheekbones, but is clearly going through a transition between youth and adulthood. Seeing the few hairs visible on his face, I realized that adulthood would come more quickly to his young face.
I could proudly say that I was a very handsome boy, different from the Dante of before.
I had to accept that soon.
I was no longer the same person.
There was no longer the face or body from before; all that remained were sensations and memories.
For better or worse, Dante Alighieri was dead, and I was the bizarre mixture that remained.
I had to put Dante Alighieri's name aside and move on to this new opportunity.
But it wouldn't be easy to get used to, as there were 25 years of memory from a previous life, ten more than I had in this world.
However, getting used to it wouldn't take long, as I had always adapted to changes throughout my two lives.
Satisfied with my decisions, I clapped my hands.
Not to celebrate, but to activate the command to turn on the bath.
With no magical ability, I had to adapt some magical technology features, such as this command to turn on the hot tub.
While the hot water was being poured into the tub, I turned my attention to a no less important matter: a hot bath that I had already delayed due to my tiredness.
I left the bathroom and went to the bookshelf, where I grabbed the small object given to me by the teacher.
I sat down on the bed and looked at the small golden box, but I noticed a small detail that I hadn't noticed before: a small drawer on the side.
And that drawer handle was too attractive not to pull out, carefully so as not to damage the object. I pulled it until it came completely out of the box.
Inside the drawer, there was an envelope carefully packed and sealed with a blue wax seal, containing a symbol of a two-beaked bird. This creature was not depicted for no reason.
With some effort, I remembered that this bird was used as a symbol of apologies and new beginnings, and that if it was on a blue seal, it meant a letter from a friend or something.
Carefully, I tried to pull the seal, and it came off relatively easily.
With a gentle tug, I opened the envelope.
Inside there were only two objects, no letter or any kind of greeting, just two objects.
Carefully, I took the objects out of the envelope and analyzed them for a few seconds.
Even after a brief analysis, I was sure that one of the objects was quite expensive.
It was a shiny platinum card with the initials L.A. on it.
An access card to the academy's special training camps.
These things were absurdly expensive, even more so depending on the color.
Bronze, for example, granted one month's access and cost 100 tampa, the lowest value coin made of brass, but that represented the annual income of a peasant family.
Silver, equivalent to five months' access, costing 10 Lúcios, a high-value silver coin whose unit was equivalent to 100 caps.
Gold: one year's access to the academy's training camp, costing 1 Gregory, the highest coin made of gold, with the face of the first emperor engraved on both sides.
It took 100 pike to equal a single unit of this coin, which was rarely spent as it represented the monthly income of a low-ranking nobleman.
Finally, there was the platinum card, which gave lifetime access even after graduation from the academy.
It cost an absurd 100 Gregories, a large sum for any nobleman.
This card was rarely seen in anyone's possession, but one of them was in my hands.
Amy had said that Cristina gave expensive gifts, but this one was far more luxurious than expected.
However, I was intrigued.
What was the other gift?
The lifetime access card was a real fortune, so the other gift might be worth the same, or even more.
Even if the price was lower, I couldn't complain, because what I had received was of immense value and usefulness.
The chances of dying prematurely would be considerably reduced with the academy's cutting-edge training methods.
So, very carefully, I placed the card on the shelf and focused my attention on the other object.
It was something so simple that it seemed impossible to be valuable: a black card with gold edges, but empty.
There were only gold edges, no pictures or writing on the front or back.
Just a black card.
Maybe it was a prank?
Maybe Cristina wanted to teach me about humility?
Or about expecting the unexpected?
Or maybe none of the above.
Although I'd only met her a short time ago, it didn't seem to be her style to teach through moral lessons. Cristina was more direct in that regard.
There was another possibility too.
But this one was more terrifying and priceless.
People would kill family members to have it.
And it would be inconceivable to have it in my hands.
In this world, there was something so priceless that no intellect would pass up the chance to have it. Those valuables were weapons.
In a world of magic and blades, anything that increased your power was priceless, especially when it came to weapons, especially when they were the best the world had to offer.
These sought-after weapons were called "royal weapons".
In the final years of Emperor Gregory's life, he was possessed by a mysterious madness. Some said the reason was power, the pressure of being an emperor or perhaps the long years he lived.
But I knew that wasn't true, because he hadn't even gone mad.
When the world named him, he gained an extremely rare ability: clairvoyance.
Gregory had seen the future and, fearing what might happen to the world, he did the unthinkable: an act that could be called madness.
He split his own soul into 40 fragments and deposited them in 40 excellent weapons, such as blades, staffs, bows and anything that could be used to kill.
Thus were born the royal weapons, fragments of the soul of the strongest man in history.
However, these weapons were not easily revealed: they took different forms and did not accept just anyone. The lower the weapon's number, the more dangerous it became when revealed.
But had Cristina given me something so priceless? There was only one way to find out.
I put a finger in my mouth and bit down hard until I tasted the metallic taste of blood on my tongue.
Real weapons were very sensitive to blood: it would only take five drops of blood on a real weapon for it to partially reveal its shape and show its name and number.
So, with my heart racing with anxiety, I raised my bloody finger to the top of the card. The chance of it being a real weapon was low, but there was a chance, and that was enough. In the worst case, I would have a letter stained with blood.
With my heart racing, I watched as the blood dripped down the card and onto the floor. With each drop, my heart raced to the point where I didn't know it was humanly possible.
And on the fifth drop, something happened.
Instead of hitting the card and dripping to the ground, the drop hit the black card and was absorbed. Like ripples, golden writing appeared on the card, bringing much-needed information.
Hanged Fool, XXXVIII.