I woke up with a start, gasping for air as if I had just escaped from a terrible nightmare. My chest heaved as I struggled to calm my racing heart. Wiping the cold sweat from my forehead, I muttered to myself, "So that was my past life."
Taking a deep breath, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and walked to the window. The golden rays of the rising sun illuminated the bustling scene outside. Soldiers were training, maids were busy with their tasks, and carriages rolled along the cobblestone paths. I sighed, resting my hand on the window frame. The memories of my previous life made one thing abundantly clear: this world was stuck in the medieval period.
Technology here was stagnant, with progress hindered by the people's obsession with mana and elemental magic. Strength and power dictated everything, leaving no room for innovation. This world was home to four main races: humans, dragons, elves, and dwarves. They had been locked in endless wars until one day, a portal opened, unleashing demons upon the land. That event had forced the races to unite, or so the stories went. I would have to study the history of this world to uncover the truth.
My thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door, followed by a familiar voice. "Young Master, are you awake?"
"Yes," I replied.
The door creaked open, and in stepped Maya, one of the maids. She had striking black eyes and hair tied back in a ponytail. Her cherry-red lips added to her youthful appearance, making it hard to believe she was 40 years old; she looked no older than 29. Despite her mature features, her demeanor was warm and caring.
"Good morning, Young Master Harry," she greeted with a gentle smile. "It's time for your bath. Madam and Sir will be in the hall for breakfast soon."
I nodded in acknowledgment as she moved to prepare the bathtub. That's when it hit me—in this household, Maya bathed me every day. The thought made me cringe now that I had regained the memories of my past life as a teenager from a modern world. The idea of someone else bathing me felt incredibly awkward and embarrassing.
"Maya," I began hesitantly, "just pour the water in the bathtub. I'll wash myself today."
She froze, turning to look at me with wide, teary eyes. "Did I do something wrong, Young Master?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"No, no, Maya," I hurriedly assured her. "I just want to try doing it myself for a change."
"But, Young Master," she protested, "you're too young to bathe yourself."
Too young to bathe myself? What kind of logic is that? I thought to myself. However, I could tell from her expression that she wasn't going to budge on this.
"Alright, Maya," I relented with a sigh. "Let's… bathe." As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized how wrong they sounded. Heat rushed to my face, but Maya didn't seem to notice. She nodded eagerly and dashed into the bathroom to prepare.
I followed her with a mix of resignation and embarrassment, mentally preparing myself for the awkwardness ahead. Life in this medieval world was going to take some serious getting used to, especially with memories of my modern sensibilities clashing with the norms of this place.
After washing myself and dressing in my formal attire, I took a moment to admire the outfit. It resembled the suits worn by British royalty in my previous life, complete with intricate designs and a regal aura. White gloves adorned my hands, adding a touch of elegance to the ensemble. Satisfied with my appearance, I made my way to the grand dining hall.
The hall was illuminated by the soft morning sunlight streaming through the large windows. My father, mother, and sister were already seated at the dining table, which was laden with an impressive spread of food. The aroma of freshly baked bread and roasted meat filled the air, making my stomach growl in anticipation.
My father, Lor Gold, was a figure of strength and authority. His sharp eyes and firm demeanor reflected his past as a war hero. He had once served as a commander in the royal army, leading battles against the demon forces. It was during his time in the army that he met my mother, Frigga, and fell deeply in love with her. Their bond had been strong enough for him to leave his military career behind.
The kingdom, however, was not ready to let go of someone as valuable as my father. To keep him tied to the kingdom's defense, the king rewarded him with the title of viscount. My father, ever the strategist, saw an opportunity and claimed this land as his viscounty. Unbeknownst to the king and the dukes at the time, my father had discovered a vast blackstone mineral mine here during his younger days as an adventurer. Blackstone, a resource of immense value, was coveted for its use in forging weapons and crafting magical artifacts.
Originally a commoner, my father had chosen the surname "Gold" to symbolize wealth and prosperity. When he first adopted the name, many nobles found it amusing, even mocking him for it. But their laughter turned to curses when the blackstone mine was revealed, instantly elevating our family's status and wealth. The irony was not lost on anyone, least of all my father, who bore their resentment with a knowing smile.
Taking my seat at the table, I greeted my family. "Good morning, Father, Mother, Sister."
"Good morning, Harry," my mother said warmly, her eyes filled with pride. My sister offered me a playful smile, and my father gave a curt nod, his expression as stern as ever.
As I bit into the roasted chicken, I couldn't help but think, "In the name of any god or lord, what is this bland excuse for food?" The taste was so plain that it made me long for the rich flavors of KFC chicken, burgers, and momos from my previous life. They didn't even have proper spices in this world! My heart sank as I sulked over my meal.
Noticing my expression, my mother, Frigga, asked, "Harry, what's wrong? Don't you like the food?"
I looked at her and thought bitterly, It tastes like something one would eat in a hospital. But instead of voicing that, I replied, "No, Mom. I was just… thinking about awakening."
My father, Lor Gold, wiped his mouth with a napkin and said, "Don't worry, Harry. You have the blood of both your mother and me. Your mother is an elf, so you're destined to excel. You'll either become a knight or a mage, maybe even a forger."
Before I could respond, my younger sister, Lily, chimed in, "I'd rather become a mage like Mother or a knight like Father, but not a forger."
My father's expression hardened slightly, but his tone remained calm as he replied, "Lily, it's not bad to be a forger. Forgers create the swords and artifacts that knights and mages depend on. Remember, our family is one of the empire's biggest suppliers of blackstone."
Lily pouted but nodded. "Yes, Dad. I'll remember that. But I still want to be a mage or a knight."
My mother, ever gentle, smiled and said, "Oh, my dear, I'd love to teach you magic if that's what you choose."
Before the conversation could continue, my father interrupted with a firm tone, "This afternoon, your mother will guide both of you through your awakening. Prepare yourselves."
Lily and I exchanged glances before nodding. "Yes, Father," we said in unison.
I glanced back at my bland meal, sighing inwardly. If only this world had spices, life would be just a little more bearable.