A dull ache pulsed through my skull, a throbbing pain that felt like a hammer striking against my mind. My body felt… strange. Weak. Small.
I forced my eyes open. The ceiling above me was unfamiliar—an elegant, high-vaulted design with intricate gold detailing. Sunlight streamed in through a large window, casting a warm glow over the plush bed I was lying on. The silk sheets beneath my fingers felt expensive, yet the scent of dust lingered in the air, as if no one had touched them in a long time.
Where… am I?
I tried to sit up, but my limbs felt sluggish, unresponsive. My breathing came in shallow gasps, my heart pounding wildly against my ribs. Something was wrong—terribly wrong. This was not my body. My hands, my legs… they were too small. My voice, when I attempted to speak, was weak and childlike.
Panic gripped me.
Was this a dream? A cruel illusion? Or had something far worse happened?
Before I could process it further, the door creaked open, and a young woman stepped inside. She wore a simple black dress with a white apron, her dark hair neatly braided. Her eyes widened in shock when she saw me awake, and for a moment, she seemed too stunned to move.
Then, as if reality struck her all at once, she gasped, tears welling up in her eyes.
"Y-Young Master Lucius!" she stammered, rushing to my side. Her hands trembled as she reached out, hesitating before gently touching my arm. "You're awake… You're actually awake! The gods have blessed us!"
Lucius? The name sent a strange chill down my spine.
I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. My throat was dry, and the weight of confusion pressed down on me.
The maid, still teary-eyed, quickly stood up. "I need to inform the Madam and the young ladies! They have waited for this day for so long!" She paused, her hands clasped together. "Please, Young Master, do not strain yourself. You have been unconscious for three years. I will return shortly!"
Three years?
I could barely process what she had said before she rushed out of the room, leaving me alone in my swirling confusion.
I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breath. The memories of Lucien Velkaris, the Archmage, were still vivid in my mind. I remembered my execution. The betrayal. The sword falling. The darkness.
And yet… I was here. Alive. In a body that was not my own.
Who was Lucius ?
And why had I become him?
Lucius sat in silence, his mind still spinning as he tried to process the situation. He had just woken up in a six-year-old's body, with no memories of this life except for what the maid had called him.
The sound of hurried footsteps echoed outside his room. Moments later, the door burst open.
A woman, dressed in a flowing deep-blue gown, rushed inside. Her golden-blonde hair, streaked faintly with silver, was loosely tied back, and her deep violet eyes glistened with unshed tears. Behind her, two young women and a boy followed, their faces a mix of shock, relief, and overwhelming emotion.
"Lucius!" The woman's voice trembled as she knelt beside the bed, gently cradling his small hands. "My son… my sweet child… You're awake…"
Lucius flinched slightly at her touch—not because it was unpleasant, but because it felt too real. This was his mother? The warmth in her hands, the quiver in her voice—it felt nothing like the coldness of nobility he had once known in his past life.
"Do you… remember me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lucius hesitated. What was he supposed to say?
He knew nothing about this woman, but claiming ignorance would be suspicious. His mind raced for an answer, but before he could speak, one of the young women stepped forward.
"Mother, don't overwhelm him," she said softly. She was around sixteen, her long platinum hair cascading over her shoulders. Her violet eyes—the same as their mother's—held warmth and concern. "Lucius just woke up after three years. He might be confused."
"I-Is he really awake?" The younger girl, who looked about thirteen, approached hesitantly. Unlike her older sister, she had wavy golden hair like their mother and soft, round features. Her blue eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "We waited so long…"
The boy, standing slightly behind them, remained quiet. He was about twelve, his silver-gray hair slightly messy, and his posture stiff as if unsure how to act. He clenched his fists, biting his lip as his gaze locked onto Lucius.
Lucius exhaled slowly. "I… I don't remember much," he finally said, his voice coming out small and uncertain—just as a child waking from a long coma should sound. "Everything feels strange…"
His mother let out a shaky breath and pulled him into a gentle embrace. "It's alright, my dear. You've been asleep for so long… We thought we lost you."
The older sister wiped at her eyes, trying to keep her composure. "You collapsed when you were three, Lucius. The healers tried everything, but you wouldn't wake up."
The younger sister sniffled. "And… and Father didn't even—" She stopped herself, glancing at their mother nervously.
Lucius caught that.
Father?
His mother closed her eyes for a moment before standing up. "...Your father is busy." Her voice was calm, but Lucius sensed the bitterness hidden beneath it.
Adrian, the third brother, scoffed. "Busy? He didn't even bother visiting his own son, Mother." His voice was sharp, carrying clear resentment.
The older sister sighed. "You know how he is, Adrian."
Lucius stayed quiet, simply observing them. This father of theirs… He hadn't come to see his son wake up after three years?
The younger sister, still teary-eyed, turned toward Lucius. "Big Brother, did you know? Even though Father and our two eldest brothers never came to see you… Mother never left your side." She clutched his hand tightly. "She was always here, talking to you, hoping you'd wake up."
The mother smiled weakly, brushing Lucius' hair back. "Because I could never abandon you."
Lucius looked up at her. "This woman truly cared about him". It was… strange. Even in his past life, he had never known such warmth.
Adrian sat on the edge of the bed, his arms crossed. "I don't know why I expected anything different. Father only cares about Cassius and Julius." His tone was full of frustration. "Since they're his 'perfect heirs.'"
Lucius narrowed his eyes slightly. So, the two eldest brothers Cassius and Julius were favored, while he and Adrian were overlooked?
The older sister sighed. "Father has always been like this… He values strength, and Lucius was always…" She hesitated, looking guilty.
Lucius understood immediately. The former Lucius was weak. Sickly. A disappointment in the eyes of their father.
He glanced at Adrian. His third brother—who was also disregarded by their father—seemed to have a lot of pent-up anger about it.
Lucius finally spoke. "...What about my eldest brothers? Did they visit?"
Silence.
Adrian scoffed. "You already know the answer."
The mother placed a hand on Lucius' shoulder. "Don't concern yourself with them right now. Just focus on resting."
Lucius didn't respond.
Inside, a small smirk threatened to form.
So… the father and the eldest brothers didn't care for this body's original owner. They saw him as worthless.
But he wasn't the same Lucius they had abandoned.
He would show them.
For now, though, he would play the part of the weak, confused child.
Because that's what they expected.
And expectations… were meant to be broken.