As Ethan lay on his deathbed, his mind began to drift through the fragmented memories of a life filled with unfulfilled dreams and relentless struggles. He remembered the countless hours spent working multiple jobs, each paycheque barely enough to cover the mounting debts. The strain on his young body had been immense, leaving him gaunt and weakened, but his spirit had clung to hope.
Ethan had always dreamed of marriage, envisioning a future filled with love and happiness. However, the crushing responsibilities of life and his exhausting work schedule left him with little time to pursue personal relationships. Potential partners drifted away, unable to compete with the constant pressure of financial obligations. He had never found the time or the right person to share his life with, and so he died a virgin, his dreams of a family left unfulfilled.
As the years wore on, Ethan's body began to fail him. The weight of his sacrifices bore down heavily on him, until he was bedridden, paralyzed by exhaustion and despair. His once strong and agile frame, that had carried him through days of strenuous labor, had become thin and frail. The once vibrant spark in his eyes was now overshadowed by deep, dark circles, a testament to the endless nights of worry and the physical toll his ceaseless toil had taken. His hands, once steady and capable, were now shaky and feeble, marked with the scars of countless laborious tasks. His back, which had borne the brunt of heavy loads, now ached incessantly, each movement a painful reminder of the relentless grind he had endured.
The questions haunted him—why did his efforts go unrewarded? What had he done to deserve such a fate?
In those final moments, as darkness encroached, Ethan felt a mix of anguish and relief. He had done all he could, but life had been unforgiving. The emptiness of his room mirrored the void in his heart. Just as he was about to succumb to the darkness, he felt a peculiar sensation. Instead of dying, he found himself drifting apart from his body, as if his very essence was being pulled away.
Ethan's consciousness floated in a void, weightless and untethered. He felt a strange pull, drawing him towards an unknown destination. Before he could comprehend what was happening, he sensed the presence of another body—one that was alive but in a vegetative state. It was as if this body was an empty vessel, waiting to be filled.
Slowly, he began to merge with it.
While Ethan was not fully awake, he was aware of his surroundings and knew about Jack's past. He could hear the voices of the servants, their whispers filled with fear and resentment. He understood the complexities and darkness that had shaped Jack's life, even as he began to merge with the body.
He found himself in the body of Lord Jack Blackthorn. As he took in his surroundings, he realized he was in a grand yet oppressive mansion. The once-majestic structure now seemed old and broken, with crumbling walls and sagging ceilings. The air was thick with the scent of decay, and the hallways echoed with a sense of desolation. Jack had been a man of contradictions—once a privileged noble, now a fallen lord. His life had been marked by cruelty and treachery, traits that had earned him the fear and disdain of those around him.
Jack's father had once been the Lord of Blackthorn, ruling over a vast and lush land filled with valuable resources. However, the king, suspecting him of conspiring against the kingdom, had executed him, seized most of their land, and given it to a neighboring lord, Lord Cedric Hawke. Jack had been banished to the far north, where the land was barren and nothing grew.
Jack wasn't good with people even before he lost his father. His bad reputation with the ladies preceded him, casting a long shadow over his life. His interactions were often marred by arrogance and entitlement, traits that only worsened after his family's fall from grace. This reputation, combined with his later cruelty, meant that few had any sympathy for his plight.
As Ethan settled into his new identity, he began to access Jack's memories. He learned that Jack had been a complex individual, shaped by the harsh realities of his upbringing. The loss of his father and the subsequent fall from grace had embittered him, turning him into a harsh and oppressive ruler. The castle they now inhabited was an old structure located in a ghost town named Ravenwood. The town was desolate, with hardly any rations left for them to survive on. The land was barren, and it was a struggle to grow anything. Nearby, small towns existed, but they were not noteworthy and could scarcely provide any food for them.
To Ethan's dismay, he also learned that Jack had been oppressive and harsh to the servants who had remained loyal to the Blackthorn family despite their fall from grace. These servants had decided to stick with Jack despite the odds, and being loyal to the Blackthorn family, they were obliged to take care of him. They had suffered greatly under his cruel rule. One particularly disturbing memory revealed that Jack had once tried to force himself on a girl. In her desperate attempt to defend herself, she had hit him with a vase and ran away, never to be seen again. From that day, Jack had been in a vegetative state until Ethan's consciousness merged with Jack's.
***
Ethan began to feel more awake, and he had started moving his limbs. Finally, one morning, he managed to open his eyes. Blinking away the haze, he found himself in a dimly lit room, adorned with remnants of past grandeur, now overrun by decay and neglect.
A lady servant was the first to notice his awakening. Her eyes widened in shock before she quickly called out, "Mr. Thomas, Miss Emily! Young Master is awake!" Her voice echoed through the silent halls of the mansion.
Moments later, Thomas, the loyal butler, entered the room, followed closely by his daughter, Emily. Thomas was a stoic figure with graying hair, his weathered face etched with years of service and hardship. Emily, young and extremely beautiful, with sharp features exuding confidence, looked on with a mix of caution and relief. Her soft auburn hair framed her face, while her eyes, filled with both warmth and a hint of skepticism, hinted at an inner resilience.
Seeing Ethan—or rather, Jack—finally awaken, Thomas's stern expression softened ever so slightly. "Young Master, you are awake," he said, his voice a mix of relief and duty.
Ethan tried to speak but found his throat too dry, only managing a weak croak. Emily stepped forward, offering a glass of water, her confident demeanor a stark contrast to the trembling of her delicate hands. "Here, Young Master," she said softly. Ethan accepted it gratefully, feeling the cool liquid soothe his parched throat.
"How many days was I unconscious?" he finally managed to ask, his voice rasping and unfamiliar.
"You have been in a coma for some time, Young Master," Thomas replied. "Several months, in fact. We feared you might never awaken, although your recent movements gave us hope."
Ethan took another sip of water, gathering his thoughts. "Has there been any change in the state of the mansion or our rations since I've been unconscious?"
Thomas hesitated, glancing at Emily before responding. "Unfortunately, there has been little improvement, Young Master. The mansion continues to deteriorate, and our rations remain scarce. The nearby towns have had little to spare, and the land remains barren. The river's flow isn't reliable enough to support irrigation. We could force other towns to send food, but we did not wish to resort to such measures."
Emily added, "The servants have managed to make do, but it has not been easy. Everyone is stretched thin, trying to keep things together."
Ethan nodded, absorbing the gravity of their situation. He knew they had no other options and that, despite his previous behavior, they saw him as their only hope. His eyes widened in surprise at the stark reality. "Thank you for the update. Things must change."
Thomas and Emily exchanged a glance, clearly taken aback by Ethan's unexpected concern and awareness. In that moment, Ethan realized that to turn things around, he would need their trust and cooperation. He would have to show them that he was not the same cruel master they once knew.
"Things must change," Ethan repeated with newfound determination. "We will rebuild, and together, we will restore the honor of the Blackthorn name."
Emily's eyes met his, still cautious, as if trying to gauge the sincerity of his words.
Perhaps, amidst the decay and desolation, there lay a chance for redemption—for both Jack and himself.