Arthur de la Morvayn, formerly known as Leo Myrtle, stood in the grand hall of the castle, feeling overwhelmed by the sheer scale of his new surroundings. The high ceilings, intricate tapestries, and lavish furnishings all seemed to whisper one thing: "You don't belong here."
Randyll Wythers, his protector and swordsman master, stood by his side, a reassuring presence in the midst of chaos.
"My lord, you must be tired from your journey," Randyll said, his voice low and soothing. "Why don't you take some time to rest and refresh yourself? I will show you to your chambers."
Arthur nodded gratefully, following Randyll through the winding corridors of the castle. They passed by suits of armor, ornate mirrors, and elaborate candelabras, each one a reminder of the wealth and power that came with being a member of the royal family.
As they walked, Arthur couldn't help but feel a sense of disconnection. He was a prince, but he didn't feel like one. He was a stranger in a strange land, with no memory of his past life as Arthur de la Morvayn.
Randyll seemed to sense his unease, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"Do not worry, my lord," he said. "You will adjust to your new life in time. Just remember, you are a prince of the realm, and you have a duty to uphold the honor of your family."
Arthur nodded, taking a deep breath. He would do his best to play the part of the prince, even if it didn't feel natural.
They arrived at Arthur's chambers, a lavish suite of rooms filled with every luxury imaginable. Arthur's eyes widened as he took in the sight of the four-poster bed, the ornate desk, and the rows of bookshelves filled with leather-bound tomes.
Randyll smiled, nodding in approval.
"This is your home now, my lord," he said. "Make yourself comfortable."
Arthur nodded, feeling a sense of gratitude towards Randyll. He was the only person who seemed to understand him, the only person who didn't treat him like a stranger.
As Randyll turned to leave, Arthur called out to him.
"Randyll, wait."
Randyll turned back, a questioning look on his face.
"Yes, my lord?"
Arthur hesitated, unsure of how to ask the question that had been plaguing him.
"What happened to me?" he asked finally. "How did I become a prince?"
Randyll's expression turned serious, his eyes clouding over.
"That is a story for another time, my lord," he said. "For now, just rest and enjoy your new life. You have a lot to learn, and not much time to waste."
Arthur nodded, feeling a sense of frustration. He wanted answers, but it seemed like no one was willing to give them to him.
As Randyll left, Arthur couldn't help but feel like he was trapped in a dream, a dream that he couldn't wake up from.
He walked over to the window, staring out at the castle gardens below. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the entire scene.
Arthur felt a sense of peace wash over him, a sense of belonging that he hadn't felt since his arrival in the castle.
Maybe, just maybe, he could make a life for himself here.
But as he turned away from the window, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.
And he remembered, he was not just Arthur de la Morvayn, he was also Leo Myrtle, a high school student from a different world.
The question was, which one was he really?
To be continued...