Duke Canton
When I woke up, there was this undying buzz that rattled me to my core. It took me a moment to get through. I have had the strangest dream.
I almost died in it. There was this whole uproar about something. Some divine intervention telling me that I was wronged.
"Duke Canton!" Mens shouted, out side the door.
It takes me a minute to take it all in. I am not in my studio apartment.
Then, what is this place?
The door tears open, as I watch the man evade in.
"We have come to your rescue, Your Highness," a man announced.
He wore one of those iron clad armours. On its crest was embossed the head of a lion. Two rubies studded for its eyes. Chainmail hung loosely from his helmet, and it was impossible to tell what he looked like.
I do not remember seeing things like these in the city.
Did I perhaps end up doing something in my sleep? Like take part in a theatrical reniditon of Othello?
"Are you alright? Are you hurt?" He asked, and I waited for the person in question to answer.
Something told me that this might be a great time to leave. I searched for the way to the backstage. Some escape.
I don't care if I am stuck in a play after a weird dream. It's my new normal anyways. The weirdest shit keeps happening around me.
"Duke Canton, I am the newly appointed druid. While the guards are taking care of the Versailles' Estate, let me help you," an old man with a flowing beard walks closer to me.
Newly appointed?
He reaches for my dress. Only that this isn't a dress. I am wearing a silk tunic, that wraps around an undershirt. For bottoms, I have worn some very uncomfortable looking pants.
But my eyes grow wide when I spot the bulge between my legs.
This...is not me!
"Please do not touch me!" My voice comes out heavy, hoarse and deep. Instead of sounding polite, I come off as rude and intimidating. Almost, as if my body knows what it is doing, I jump off the bed to my feet.
What just happened?
The stinging of something sharp cuts through my body. I look at myself. These aren't the pajamas I was wearing when I was fleeing from Professor Hank.
This place didn't look like where I ended up last night. And then, there was the voice.
Was I still under the influence of the medication?
When I got off the bed, the stink of old blood hit me. It's coppery whisps, burning my nares.
Just what happened here?
"Duke Canton, are you alright?" A few men had circled me, watching out closely.
Are they talking about me?
"Duke Canton?" I stood there dumbfounded. Then, was it that I had the strangest dream. Or am I still in one?
The walls around me were embellished with gold. Fine patterns encompassed them. On the ceiling hung the largest chandelier that I had ever seen. And the very bed that I shot up from, was the most regal thing I had come across.
This wasn't my room. This was clearly something out of a Mediveal palace.
"Where am I?" I questioned, again sounding as scary as I could. This wasn't my voice. I missed when I could sound softer!
"Your Highness, we came as soon as we could. Sir Marshall is handling the troops outside.
We were worried that much harm has befallen you.
Especially when-" he hesitated.
"Especially when? Go on, don't stop on my account," I propped down on the bed.
"Sir José is dead. Versailles has escaped. Her forces have for some reason been cut to half. We fear this has been some sort of a set up," the man says.
I am not even sure why, or what, but some thing told me that I should be horrified about it.
I am stuck here, and someone's already dead. There's blood on the floor. And he is telling me things about wars and battles. And Versailles.
Wait... Why does that sound familiar?
My head had begun to hurt.
"Your Highness," they called out, when I felt my vision blurring out.
"I- I am sorry," I said, and they looked at each other in some sort of surprise.
"Your Highness, let me give you some medicine. You'll feel a lot better then," the druid tells me.
"Alright," It's not that I had an option.
On the inside I wanted to scream. But there was just one thing that kept me from doing that. Something close to my rib kept throbbing and hurting.
I could swear that for a moment I thought I was dead. But this seemed far from heaven. Then what is this? Some twisted take at afterlife?
"Lie down on your back, Your Highness. Let me look at your body so I can assess for the wounds," the druid said.
"Waaa- What do you mean?" And then, I did scream. All heat rushed to my cheeks.
There was no way an old man would look at my body. Not when I was barely wearing good clothes.
"What's your deal?" I asked, horrified.
"Your Highness, it's impossible to cure you without knowing the extent of your wounds," the old man tells me.
Pervert! That's what he was!
"Are you insane? Have you lost your freaking mind? There's no need to get me naked and touch me for that!" I barked, and the old man blanched.
"Do you not know who I am?" I cried out loud.
"Your Highness, my sincere apologies. I had forgotten. The dragons do tend to keep their body concealed," he shook his head, and then bowed down apologizing.
Dragon? What in the seven worlds? Now, not only I am just a guy. But I am also a dragon. Help!
"I can make you a reviving potion on your way back to Gestalt," the druid suggested, and I looked at the others.
"It's better if we make haste then," I said, not even sure why.
But why did all of this seems familiar.
The troops led me out of the chambers, as I kept walking through equally lavish courtyard. We approached a narrow entrance that led us away from what was, I assume the palace. I turned around to notice the grandeur of it all.
Holy shit. That's huge.
"Wait..."
The words tumbled out, as I spotted a horse. Only that it had wings. A casket laid close by. It was still open.
I gulped. As I neared, I could make out the wails of a crying girl. My pulse throbbed.
"Who is that?" I asked, and the girl looks up. Her bright blue eyes met mine.
Inside the casket, laid the cold body of a man.
"I am sorry, Your Highness. I didn't want to kill, Sir José," the girl cried, and I croaked instead of gasping.
"J- Joel?" I said, and she started wailing. A few guards cuffed her.
A battalion of men on foot and horses. A carriage. A palace. Someone called Versailles. Sir José. My head. The pain.
I was reincarnated as a character in the book I was trying to write!