The Magus Echoes of the forgotten

Dammed Nobles

A week after the funeral, Yon's once silent bedroom became filled with guests who had come to offer their condolences to the family.

However, Yon couldn't help but feel a sense of strangeness and annoyance towards the nobles who looked at him with pity.

Their pity seemed insincere, lacking any genuine empathy in their eyes.

He didn't want to be subjected to such superficial pity. In fact, he didn't want to be pitied at all.

The only reason Yon could endure the constant exposure to this kind of hollow, insincere pity from them was twofold - his own infant body's limitations, and the consoling presence of Asselin.

Asselin's persistent support was the anchor that helped Yon cope with this unfamiliar and uncomfortable situation.

She had been there for him since that fateful day, providing him with care and attention, regardless of the time of day or night.

Her presence tried to fill in the void of his mother's absence, making him feel less alone.

Asselin's attentiveness sometimes startled him, it was as if she could peer directly into his mind. This uncanny ability of hers frightened him the most. But her consistent care and presence made him feel safe and familiar, as if she truly belonged in his life.

Eventually, when the pesky nobles had finally taken their leave, the room regained its peace and quiet. Only two individuals remained - the tiny figure of a delicate baby boy with a halo of downy silver hair and molten gold eyes, nestled cozily in the plush armchair, cradled in the arms of a beautiful woman with warm brown eyes and neatly tucked gray tresses.

Wrapped in a soft, pastel-blue blanket, Yon's wide eyes gazed up at Asselin, his devoted caretaker.

His tiny fingers occasionally twitched, as if longing to reach out and touch the gentle light streaming through the window.

Asselin held Yon with the utmost tenderness, her arms forming a protective cocoon around him. Her voice, a soothing melody, whispered gently.

"You look tired, little Ely. But don't worry, only one more and you'll be free to laze the day away..."

The mention of "one more" immediately caught his attention.

His mind, which had just begun to find some relief, was now awash with a flurry of questions.

'One more?! Am I the only child? Come on, give me a break! But...is there really no one else besides me, and even if there were, would they even accept me?'

His eyes dimmed, losing their previous glamour, as he looked down at his tiny fingers.

'I don't see it... it's gone...'

Asselin began to rock gently back and forth, creating a rhythmic motion that mirrored the beating of the baby's tiny heart.

The soft creaking of the chair formed a gentle lullaby, lulling him into a state of drowsiness.

Asselin never left him to his own devices - she was a reliable, ever-present figure in his life.

A week's worth of life.

Interrupting the peaceful moment two individuals, entered the room.

Asselin abruptly ceased the gentle rocking of the chair, inadvertently waking Yon from his drowsy state.

"Well, well, well, look who we have here," a little girl sneered, her voice dripping with contempt. "A new addition to our 'perfect' little family. I sure hope he doesn't go and ruin everything." She paused, a cruel smirk spreading across her face. "Oh wait, my bad - he already has, hasn't he?"

A boy, presumably older than the girl, joined in.

"Look at him, so small and helpless. And yet, he's already caused us so much trouble." He shook his head in disgust. "Tsk, tsk. Why does our family have to be plagued with these leeches, while other nobles are off gaining fame and riches?"

Asselin, visibly trying to keep her composure, addressed the two intruders.

"Lord Caleb, Lady Feben, this is your baby brother, Yon. He may be young, but he is a noble, just like the two of you, and he is a part of this family." She paused, her brow furrowing with concern. "I know tensions are high, but please, I implore you, show him some kindness. It's so important that you treat him as the family he is."

Lady Feben let out a scornful scoff, rolling her eyes dismissively.

"Noble? Family?" she spat. "Why on Medir would we bother with such things?" She sneered, eyeing Yon with open contempt. "He's just a pathetic little misery, that's all. At least, that's what mother says." A cruel grin twisted her features. "And now that I see him up close, I have to agree - he really is one."

Lord Caleb crossed his arms, a smug smirk playing on his lips.

"Why bother defending him, Asselin? The whole fief hates the little brat, you know that." His eyes narrowed in disgust. "In fact, there's even a rumor going around that on the day that pathetic excuse for a noble was born, the entire estate was flooded, and many lives were lost as a result!"

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "Our vassals lost their homes, their people - not to mention the sudden, mysterious deaths of so many of our residents. All because of that worthless whelp."

Asselin's brow furrowed as she took in their cruel unfiltered words. Determined to reason with them, she spoke up:

"Lord Caleb, Lady Feben, I understand your reservations, but please remember - this child is His Grace's and Lady Namaah's son. He is your brother, whether you wish it or not."

She fixed them with a stern gaze. "And rumors, you must understand, are not to be taken at face value. There may be more to the story than you know."

Asselin's voice softened, a hint of pleading entering it. "I'm simply asking that you give him a chance. He is your flesh and blood, after all."

Lord Caleb raised his arms feigning innocence.

"I was merely pointing out what the rumors say, Asselin, But it seems you're taking the little wretch's side in all this."

He scoffed, shaking his head.

"The boy is powerless, and he's destined to stay that way for the rest of his miserable life. After all, as you pointed out, his bloodline isn't exactly pure, is it?"

"You keep calling him family, but those words are wasted on a lowlife's son. If you really want him to be included that badly, then show him what it means to be part of our family."

A playful grin spread across his face. "Make sure he knows his place, Asselin. That way no one will end up hurt."

Yon had been through more than any young child should ever have to endure. His mind, in a desperate attempt to protect the last shred of his sanity, had made him numb to the cruelties of the world. But now, in this new life, things had been less chaotic, less bitter.

Yet, hearing those words - "Lowlife's son" - ring out like a twisted mantra in his mind, his calm facade began to crack. A storm was brewing beneath the surface.

Yon's brow furrowed, his face darkening with a mix of confusion and pure fury. He had steeled himself, expecting criticism and hatred from his "siblings." But this - this went beyond anything he could have prepared for.

Mentally, he was still a teenager, possessing what he believed to be a mature composure and way of thinking. But in that moment, all he wanted was to retaliate, to lash out and strangle these rude, little bastards who dared to insult his mother.

Scenes from his past life, filled with bloodshed and violence, resurfaced with a vengeance. The bloodlust surged through him, a frenzy of rage and the desire for retribution.

Yet, as a mere infant, powerless and vulnerable, Yon could do nothing but seethe silently, his small body trembling with the effort to contain the storm raging within.

As Yon fixed his bloodlusted gaze on his siblings, he couldn't help but notice them shiver slightly under his intense stare.

Lord Caleb, the eldest at six years old, had a piercing gaze that mirrored their father's features. The boy carried himself with an unmistakable arrogance - a true embodiment of the typical noble.

A venomous snake, spewing venom with every word that passed his lips.

Then there was Lady Feben, a four-year-old with short, brown hair framing her face. She radiated a certain endearing innocence, her sapphire-blue eyes same as her father.

Despite the age gap between the siblings, they shared an undeniable familial bond, evident in their physical resemblance and their equally haughty demeanors. A pair of snakes, through and through.

They reeked of selfishness and undeserved arrogance, embodying everything that Yon had come to despise in his previous life. It was a bitter irony that these were the siblings he had been saddled with in this new world.

It had barely been a week since Yon's arrival into this new world, and already he found himself facing enemies - within his own family, no less.

'Damned nobles!' he cursed vehemently, the distaste for this privileged social class he had harbored even before his rebirth only intensifying.

From the very start, he had held a deep-seated dislike for such individuals, and the actions of his so-called siblings only served to reinforce his negative perception of them.

'To think I wasted any worry on them,' he lamented, shaking his head in frustration. 'I was such a fool to hope for acceptance from these scum. They don't deserve it.'

Yon's molten eyes hardened as they settled upon Lord Caleb and Lady Feben. Suddenly, the entire room seemed to shift, flipping in perspective.

He looked at them with an impassive face, his eyes seeming to pierce straight into their brain like a hot needle, making them wince in pain.

'I can't breathe!'

'I-I'm scared!'

There was no spoken exchange, but the siblings' complexions turned ashen and fearful under the pressure of his piercing gaze.

Their eyes simultaneously rolled back as the siblings crumpled to the ground, faces first.

However, Yon was unable to witness their collapse, as he too fell unconscious. But he beheld something far greater and grander.

'I see it now!'