A Way of Redemption

Chapter 4

"What do you mean, son? You clearly know me, right?! I am Seraphina, your mother. And this is grandfather Lucianus." Mother said in shock, shaking me back and forth while shouting.

"Stop that—the boy is clearly experiencing a side effect," Lucianus intervened, quickly pulling Seraphina away from me.

"But Father, this is clearly a serious sign that something is wrong with my son!" Seraphina shouted, grasping Lucianus's coat as she cried.

"Don't worry, my child. This may be just a temporary effect of his health," Lucianus said, guiding his daughter to a chair that the maid had pulled beside my bed.

"How can you be sure, Dad!" Seraphina asked, still worried and skeptical. As the situation dragged on, she became increasingly agitated.

"I can guarantee you this, child. I have already checked the aura in his body, and it's perfectly stable now," Lucianus assured her as he turned back to examine me with his piercing gaze. But this lasted only briefly as his expression softened, turning warm and sad within seconds.

"Now, I think we should let the child rest, as it's already nearing nightfall," Lucianus said, clearly mystified by today's events. For them, everything that happened was a whole can of worms. I agreed—I needed good sleep to process my thoughts and accept my current predicament.

"Forgive my rudeness, madam, but I also think this is best. As you can see, the young master has gone in and out of consciousness multiple times today," the maid said, bowing to Seraphina as if asking forgiveness for intruding on family business.

With this second voice of reason, Seraphina finally yielded and nodded. "It seems this may be our only option right now," she said sorrowfully, rising to kiss my forehead. "Son, I will come back tomorrow. I hope you have a great sleep. Rose, please take care of Frances," she instructed the maid before leaving.

I sat there stunned by her gesture, not even noticing Lucianus and Seraphina's departure. I held my right hand to the spot she had kissed, feeling a warmth inside that made me miss my original mother even more. I remembered how my mother used to do this before I went to school or played outside with other children. A tear escaped my eye at the memory, and I only noticed when a hand appeared before me holding a handkerchief.

"Master, please use this to clear your tears," Rose said, waiting patiently for me to take the cloth.

"Thank you, Rose," I said, taking it to wipe my eyes and face, which felt oddly sticky from earlier.

"It's my duty, master. Now please let me take that back and drink this water," Rose said, skillfully exchanging the handkerchief for a cup of water. Looking at my reflection, I was amazed to see myself—blond hair and ruby-colored eyes made for quite a handsome appearance. However, something bothered me: a slight skin discoloration on the right side of my forehead, similar to a scar I'd had on my original body, the kind that forms when an injury heals with fresh skin.

Curious, I touched the spot. "Master, that injury happened when you were a child. It was said that you were involved in an unfortunate incident as a baby," the maid explained, reminding me of her presence.

"I see," I replied, unable to think of anything else to say.

"Don't worry, master. I will help you retain any knowledge you want with the best of my abilities," she offered comfortingly. This reassured me, as the previous Frances had told me nothing except to treat this family as my own. Though he hadn't said it directly, in honor of his gift of a second chance, this seemed a small price to pay. I wanted to be vulnerable with them, letting this be one step toward redemption.

"Thank you, Rose. I really appreciate this," I said as fatigue overtook me, forcing me to lie down again. It felt ridiculous—my third time losing consciousness today—but somehow, I knew everything would be alright this time.

"It's my job, master. Now leave the rest to me and rest," Rose said. These were the last words I heard before drifting off.

Rose watched Frances sleep, her face showing unexpected indifference. "How can a person change this much?" she wondered skeptically, observing the sleeping Frances. Her demeanor shifted from servitude to coldness, as if something about the past Frances made even this close servant question herself. But she quickly resigned herself to her duty—regardless of whether this was the same Frances, her role was to serve her master to the best of her ability. After one final look, she closed the curtains and left the room.

The second maid arrived, breathless. "I called the doctor—they can only get here by tomorrow," she reported, leaning against the wall.

"That's fine, as the Master has just fallen asleep," Rose smiled, gesturing for quiet. "I know, but we are just servants. Even if our master was different in the past, all we can do is serve them with all our ability," she said, walking away as the sun set on the horizon.

As the maids departed, a shadow unexpectedly appeared through Frances's window. It rose to reveal a man in a black full-body coat and matching white military uniform. He was handsome, appearing in his thirties despite nearing forty, with silver-white hair that reflected the sunlight from the partially open curtains. Most striking were his ruby-colored eyes—identical to Frances's.

The man stood silently, observing Frances with a cold, gilded gaze before approaching to place his hands on the sleeping youth's forehead. Like Lucianus had done, but differently, he closed his eyes to sense Frances's aura. "Hmm, how strange," he muttered, his face contorting in confusion. He had detected something odd in Frances's aura that even the veteran Lucianus had missed—truly remarkable for someone to surpass a man whose mere bloodlust could pressure the air.

Black fog-like light oozed from his hand, enveloping Frances like a protective barrier. As the man lifted his hand, the fog drew out a viscous green liquid from Frances's skin. The repulsive substance burned the black fog on contact, but the man persisted, condensing the fog around the green liquid until it completely obliterated it. Throughout this display of power, the man remained composed, watching Frances sleep more peacefully now.

"Take care," he whispered, before vanishing into the black fog, leaving only those words with the unconscious Frances.