Chapter 2: A Strange Ritual
I now know some streets of my/his hometown Winslow. It's comforting to know I won't lose my way tomorrow.
With the help of his memories I managed to instantly learn Sulorian.
Wait.. I responded to Henry in Sulorian, without even realising it. It must be this body's instincts. Which means that I'll most likely remain in character, acting almost exactly as original Lucian did.
As these thoughts swirled in Lucian's mind, he glanced at the book before him, its pages filled with writing. In the top left corner, a date was neatly inscribed.
26th July, 1445, Thursday.
"Today, I spent my time with Henry and my dear Elizabeth. I invited them for lunch at a restaurant frequented by nobles and tycoons. For a middle-class person like me, securing a table at that luxurious establishment wasn't easy."
"We dined, shared stories of our past, and exchanged a few jokes. It felt much like our previous dinners, but for me, this one was particularly special."
"Elizabeth is truly wonderful; she's always there for me when I need her. If I had the choice, I'd want to be with her."
"Henry... My dear brother, though he's always been a bit rough, has acted as a pillar and a father figure. He's always been kind, loving, and supportive."
"I can hardly wait for our next dinner together."
Lucian turned the page, delving further into what seemed to be a journal belonging to the original Lucian.
Oh, you poor soul. It's clear he cherished his relationship with his brother and held affection for Elizabeth, whoever she may be.
"I promise to do my best to help you. You will dine with them again," Lucian whispered, a tear trailing down his cheek.
27th July, 1445, Friday.
"Ingredients: Salt, one white candle, moonwater."
"Time: 28th, during a full moon."
"Procedure: Find a place where moonlight can touch you. Circle a small area with salt and light a white candle at the top, in front of you. Stay in the center of the circle. Sprinkle some moonwater on your face and chant whilst looking at the Moon."
"Gure na lente juter lunas. Serenfe rit'al veres. Bon merezd resve mires."
What is this ritual. Is this why he 'died' and I took his place? No, full moon isn't tonight. As far as I can recall from when I woke up here, it's tomorrow!
So, there's magic in this world. I wonder what else lies beyond. Especially the meaning of the ritual.
What does it do? I don't intend to find out or meddle with it.
I'm growing tired from thinking, I wish I had a cigarette to calm my mind. I'll hide this journal for now and continue my research in the morning.
Lucian rose from his seat, gently closing the leather journal. He ran his fingers over its textured surface, considering the best hiding spot. After a brief survey of the room, he settled on a corner beneath his bed, tucking it away in a spot that would take effort to retrieve.
Though he could have chosen a hiding place elsewhere in the house, he hesitated, wary of encountering his brother Henry. The uncertainty of how to interact with him, or why he would be wandering the house with a book late at night, held him back.
With a decisive motion, Lucian extinguished the small gas lamp, enveloping the room in near complete darkness. Only a faint glow lingered near the window. He then settled onto the bed, slipping into the realm of dreams.
In the dream, Lucian reclined on the familiar bed in his real world apartment, cigarette in hand, the TV show playing as it always did.
Abruptly, the show's image distorted, glitching into an erratic dance. Lucian's realization hit, he was lucid dreaming. The glitches resolved into distinct lines, forming a small, radiant moon against a backdrop of shadow.
A gentle feminine voice whispered, 'You'll be in grave danger if you don't finish the ritual tomorrow night.'
Lucian's mind raced with bewilderment.
Could this be a sinister intent of the deity to whom that ritual points to?
The TV's vision shifted, revealing him asleep, under the watchful gaze of a lurking, dark figure. The figure observed in eerie silence, before striking with a lethal blade, sealing Lucian's fate in his slumber.
Was this a warning of what might befall me should the ritual go unperformed? Or was it a direct threat from 'Her'? He inclined toward the former.
The scene shifted once more, now depicting Lucian's home, specifically the basement. Amidst shelves of preserved goods and assorted belongings, a small, trapdoor was hidden beneath the carpet.
The door swung open of its own accord, unveiling a ladder that descended into the hidden chamber.
With a final flicker, the image vanished, and his dream continued flowing in its regular course.
...
Sunlight streamed through the window, gently caressing Lucian's face, waking him from slumber.
Could my fate be sealed if I don't perform the ritual? The thought of facing death isn't so bad, but a second chance at life, to embrace the warmth of family, to find friends and perhaps a partner... that's a gift.
In the past, I struggled to make connections. I was cast as the black sheep, left in solitude. Now, there's hope for change.
He rose, hands gliding over the fabric of his finely tailored suit, retrieving a golden pocket watch, its intricate details catching the light, alongside a few valka notes.
In the Valorian kingdom, currency holds its own hierarchy. One val note equals 100$, followed by valling notes at 10$, valka notes at 1$, and coins, sunti at 0.5$, sunt at 0.1$. Lucian instinctively recognized their worth.
With a decisive click, he opened the pocket watch, his gaze fixed upon its face. The clock pointed to 08:18.
Perfect. Time to research.
His stomach gurgled loudly, a reminder of hunger that had been ignored for far too long. Lucian put a hold on the pursuit of knowledge and mustered the courage to leave his room.
Stepping into the corridor, he noticed a door on the right, leading to Henry's room, and ahead, a wooden staircase ascending to the first floor.
Descending the stairs, he found a bathroom on the left and just beside it a door to the basement. To the right, an expansive, interconnected living room and kitchen. The living area boasted a capacious leather sofa, and a large table for dining.
The kitchen featured a gas stove and a somewhat rudimentary icebox, reliant on ice for food preservation.
In the midst of it all, Henry was cooking, the aroma enveloping the room.
"It smells good. What's on the menu?" Lucian inquired, his stomach issuing a louder plea.
"Steak and boiled potatoes. It'll be ready shortly. Take a seat," Henry offered.
Lucian settled onto the sofa, eagerly awaiting the forthcoming feast.
After a brief interval, the meal was served. Henry joined Lucian at the table, presenting the dish.
Lucian's mouth watered, eager as he took the first bite.
The flavors burst in his mouth, surpassing even the finest taste of food in five-star restaurant. Henry's culinary skill was evident, honed over the years he'd dedicated to cooking for his brother.
"This is wonderful," Lucian praised, patting his contented stomach.
"You rarely praise my cooking," Henry remarked, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.
"From now on, expect nothing but praise."
"Any plans for the day?"
"I'll be heading to work in half an hour, after I tend to the dishes. Then after work I'll be going to Victoria's, I'll be back tomorrow morning." he replied.
"Don't worry about the dishes. I'll take care of them. You go ahead and get ready for work." Lucian told Henry with a nod and a reassuring smile.
Lucian remained in the kitchen, dutifully washing the dishes, while Henry prepared to depart for work.
With Henry's departure, Lucian found himself alone in the house. Now, he could return to his room and resume his exploration of the diary and other documents.
...
Lucian knelt on the floor, his fingers gently grazing the journal. Placing it carefully on the study desk, he opened the pages, eager to delve into its secrets.
25th July, 1445, Wednesday.
Just as he glanced at the date, a soft voice whispered near his ear, sending shivers down his spine.
"Basement, now. Rip the page dated 27th July, 1445."
Startled, Lucian swiftly tore the page from the journal, stashing it in his suit pocket before closing the book and carefully returning it to its original spot.
It's that voice again, who is 'She'? Strangely, I trust her. It's as if I've known her forever. Why did I need to rip the page off?
Making his way to the basement, Lucian found a gas lamp and turned it on, its light dispelling the shadows that clung to the small storage space. Cobwebs hung in the corners, and lifeless insects littered the stone floor.
With resolve, he approached the secret chamber hidden beneath the trapdoor.
Lucian lifted the once-red carpet, now tinged with layers of dust, revealing an iron handle.
He pulled the iron handle and slowly opened the trapdoor.
Creak
As the trapdoor swung open, he descended the ladder into the concealed chamber and turned another gas lamp on. The limited light revealed intriguing surroundings.
Wow.. This is..
//Read Author's Thoughts, Ty//
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
monawrita
monawrita Hello, dear Readers,
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