Chapter Text
Arcos’ initial reaction, which lasted probably a second, was that he thought Javier had told a cruel joke. However, reality set in quickly, knowing full well that the knight was never one for jokes (unless it was either about or with his son), and there was nothing funny about the situation at all.
The feelings he experienced at that moment were…indescribable, but there was horror. Guilt. It clawed at his chest, washed over him like a storm. And there was fear, so much fear. He never admitted it to anyone, but in the past, he not only feared for his son, but he feared him. He feared…the man he had failed to raise right.
That fateful night when everything had changed, he could only look at that moment with wonder in hindsight. There was a small seed of doubt already then, that someone had somehow replaced his son with some kind of god, though a god would not shovel so earnestly to help a baron ridden in debt. A god would not spend weeks just to try to figure out the best way to save their people.
He was a man. A different man. And he meant every word when he called him his son when the debt was paid. He loved him. He was ashamed to say that he loved him now instead of his son then.
And now Javier said he was gone?
It was Marbella’s gentle but trembling grasp on his sleeve that pulled him back to the room, back to where his knight stood. Despite his expression still stony, Arcos knew that Javier was just as conflicted as he was, if not moreso. After all, it was he who bonded with this new Lloyd the closest. It even sounded like his voice cracked a little when he delivered the news.
And for his wife, well, he could not fathom the emotions she must be going through, if they were worse than his, more distraught, or was he projecting such thoughts onto her? Would she not be relieved that her son had finally returned from who knows where?
No, who was he kidding?
His son had been a terrible man.
“Since when did this happen?”
“This morning, sir. When he woke up, he started shouting obscenities at me, demanding why I was in his room. Before I could offer an explanation, I was kicked out.”
“I see.” Arcos could do nothing but lower his head, grimacing and furrowing his brows. He looked much older then, weary, as if he had suddenly aged a few years in a moment. At least he did not have to worry about the debt, but what would they do without their talented son?
“My lord, if I may…”
“Of course, what is it?”
“I do not think he remembers anything since that evening.”
“Somehow that is not surprising to me.”
For a moment, it dawned on the baron that all of them had accepted the new Lloyd as another person, but part of the family nonetheless. How strange to think of the old Lloyd as a stranger, even if he had known him for so many years. How tragic that it took someone else entirely, parading his son’s appearance, for him to realize how little he knew of him, really.
“I recommend that he stay in the mansion for the time being.” Javier continued, “I am worried for the townspeople, since the young master would not know what he had done over the past months.”
“Yes…I agree. Where is he now?”
“I would guess having difficulty with the servants, but he might be headed–”
The doors to the room suddenly burst open, making both the baron and baroness flinch. On the other hand, Javier looked like he knew that he was coming, but his stance was tense, with one hand gripping the hilt of his sword tightly.
“Is this some kind of fucking joke?”
There stood a man who wore an expression that he hadn’t seen in at least a year. His son, Lloyd Frontera, in the flesh; his glare sharp and spiteful, his scorn clearly etched on his face. It stunned the baron so strongly that he lost all words.
“Father, I demand an explanation! This-this bastard–” he gestured wildly at Javier, not caring he would hit him, but the knight took a few steps to the side anyway, “–was in my room when I woke up. Did I not say that he was to never enter my room?”
“L-Lloyd, I–”
“And the servants! Is everyone in on some kind of prank to piss me off? They were asking me about this…this building and were being such a fucking nuisance.” he roughly rubbed the right side of his temple, messing his hair in the process. “I have no idea what’s going on, like everyone's just gone insane, so I'm not leaving here until-"
To everyone’s surprise, Marbella had suddenly approached her son and enveloped her arms around him, giving him a tight hug. She buried her face in his shoulder, and it caught Lloyd so off guard that he had stopped shouting. “Mother..?”
“Lloyd…you’ve returned.” she let out a small sniffle. The young heir had little choice but to lower his hands, placing one on her back.
“I…haven’t left? I don’t…I don’t understand.”
Arcos was rigid, once again feeling terribly guilty, for he wondered if his wife was crying in relief or mourning for the son they had lost. Javier had been silent all the while, but it took all of his willpower not to leave the room, struggling to accept that the lord he had learned to care for had vanished into thin air.
✲
It was explained to Lloyd that he had been in a coma for a year, likely due to overdrinking. It was an unbelievable story, even for the hooligan master, but he couldn’t deny that it had been a year since the last day he remembered to be awake, and he had no memory of waking up anywhere between that. Frankly, the last thing he recalled was trying to find his way home one evening after having a good romp around the pub (in other words, destroying things and just generally feeling good about letting loose. It wasn’t like the owner could stop him).
So how could this have happened? How did he not die from being in a coma for a year, and why was everyone treating him so differently? Even if he was not close with anyone, he knew the expression his father wore whenever he saw him. How could he forget the look of utter contempt on his face?
But earlier, it wasn’t hate that he wore; it was something else. It was so foreign to Lloyd that he couldn’t place it. He was not exactly an imaginative person, but his mind ran wild with all the theories he could think of. Was he in another world where everyone was the same but different? Was everyone messing with him? (seemed too coordinated for that, and why the hell would that translate to that bastard watching over him? That guy hated Lloyd, he was for certain, because Lloyd wanted for it to be that way).
Or was it him that had changed? For that whole year he was asleep?
His eyes widened at the possible realization before he stood up from his bed. One thing he did notice was that his body felt different somehow, but he couldn’t quite place it. His heart was pounding at what he would discover, but he walked to the mirror in his room and let his hands (since when did they feel so rough?) run across his arms.
There was more muscle there, to be sure. That was muscle, right? He opened his palm before closing it, testing how it felt. There was a kind of...something that hadn’t been there before, or was he being delusional? His fingers then ran through his chest, and for a moment it stopped over his heart.
A heart that thumped so loudly that he clenched his shirt.
It did not feel like his.
Beads of sweat trickled down his cheek. There was something very, very wrong, but he had no clue how to even wrap his head around the whole thing. He could ask his parents, he supposed, but they did not seem like they wanted to explain further than the story they gave him. Should he ask the bastard? He was watching him when he woke up, so maybe he would know something. But to ask now…Lloyd bit his lip; his skin getting goosebumps. He couldn’t place why the thought agitated him.
What the fuck happened in a span of a year?
(ding!) [Well, well, how did you manage to come back?]
Lloyd yelled and flung obscenities when he heard the sound of a bell ringing beside him out of the blue. He had quickly stepped back, but it made him lose his footing and fall on the floor. Hissing, he massaged his lower back before trying to get a better look at where the sound came from.
It was a floating blue box with words on it, words that he could understand, but he had never seen written that way before.
Now Lloyd was sure he was losing it, but he was too agitated that he couldn’t help but respond.
“What the fuck are you? And what are you on about?”
(ding!) [You do not need to concern yourself with ‘what’ I am.]
(ding!) [But you are not supposed to be here, Lloyd Frontera.]
“What does that even mean? This is my room . How the hell do I not belong here?” and why was he even entertaining what this stupid box was saying? It honestly looked out of this world, like ancient magic or something else entirely.
Wait, hold on, what it said the first time–
“And what do you mean ‘come back’? I…I was…really gone?” did he just disappear for a year? No, that made absolutely no sense. Why would his parents say then he had been asleep this whole time? His hand unconsciously gripped his shirt, right above his foreign heart.
“That year I was asleep, tell me what happened!” he raised his voice in an attempt to sound authoritative, but this was not a servant; Lloyd could not hide that he was trembling.
The floating box hovered with an empty space until two letters filled its screen.
(ding!) [HAHAHAHAHAHAHA]
He heard nothing, but at the same time the laughter echoed in his brain. Fear flooded his senses, for whatever this thing was, it knew what happened to him. It might not even be a stretch that it was the reason why he disappeared in the first place. It knew and was not sorry at all.
Gritting his teeth, he let anger course through him. With adrenaline pulsing through his veins, he stood up and tried to deliver a blow to the blue box.
Unfortunately for Lloyd, it passed through seamlessly, making him fall face flat on the floor. The light ringing of a bell surrounded him, and when he looked up, there were more boxes that displayed nothing but laughter, mocking him.
The young man balled his fists so tightly that his fingernails dug into his skin. “Answer me!”
One by one, the boxes disappeared from view before only one was left. It took its time before a message showed on it; one that made Lloyd’s eyes widen.
(ding!) [You have seven days to recover what you have lost. If you don’t, you’ll die.]
A moment of silence hung in the room. “That doesn’t answer my question at all.”
(ding!) [But it’s true that you’ll die.]
“Stop fucking with me!”
(ding!) [I wouldn’t dream of fucking you.]
“Rrrgh…” logic told him that he really shouldn’t just trust the words of a floating box, but it was the only clue on figuring out what happened that presented itself. “You piece of shit, at least tell me what the fuck I lost.”
The room fell into silence, and once again Lloyd found himself sweating bullets. No way that stupid box decided to leave him hanging. No way, no way –
Out of the blue, what could only be succinctly described as a green magic circle appeared where the box was. Lloyd couldn’t help but reach out to it in curious wonder, but before he could do so, the magic circle expanded and started to make…grinding noises? Loud, obnoxious noises while some kind of gears turned. After what seemed like an eternity, it finally spat something out, falling on the floor with a resounding thud.
“A…compass?” he picked it up and already noticed that it was peculiarly blank, save for a thick needle that was clearly pointing somewhere. Lloyd narrowed his eyes, thinking the box couldn’t be serious. “I’m supposed to use this to figure out what I lost?”
There was no response. “Hey! Box, answer me!”
But whatever had been mocking him not a few minutes ago had left the man to his own devices. Lloyd let out a frustrated yell and was about to throw the compass onto the ground, but he stopped himself at the last moment, watching the needle set itself to the northeast. He thought about crushing the little thing, but it was surprisingly sturdy, and it was the only lead he had.
In the silence, it dawned on him that he didn’t even get to ask the most pressing question he had: why him?
✲
In the confusion that the baroness had been able to create, she placated Lloyd and managed to get him to think that he needed rest. It must’ve been terribly disorienting after all of these months. He should retire in his room first while they prepare his meal; surely one after being asleep for so long could uplift his mood. The young master was off put by this, but it seemed that he was not against the alone time, shifting uncomfortably in their gazes.
Javier had left the room with Lloyd, and his heightened senses could hear the baroness continuing to weep behind closed doors. My son, my son …
The knight clenched his teeth. The appearance of the new Lloyd was a mystery, so he had no idea where to begin searching for him, if he was even still alive. The reemerging of the original Lloyd was also another mystery, as he did check before to see if two souls were sharing a body, but he could not detect such a thing. Still, these were clearly different people, and somehow their Lloyd was stolen from them, allowing the original Lloyd to take over the body once again.
It was hard to keep his composure. Here he was, thinking that he had gotten over his hatred for this man, but that was only possible because he accepted that Master Lloyd and hooligan Lloyd were not the same person. His Lloyd was not the same person who broke his precious sword, who would never call him by name and would only care for himself.
Lloyd was practical but kind. A leader and the rightful heir to the estate. Javier was ready to lay his life down for him if it came to that. And he…he promised he would stay, didn’t he?
“Oi.”
Javier was so lost in his own thoughts that the voice froze him in his tracks. Lloyd’s head was turned sideways, only looking at him from the periphery of his vision. “You’re too close. I don’t want to see your face.”
The words hurt him more than he anticipated. They were nothing new, and in the past he did keep a wide berth from his master, but that wasn’t how it was for the past year. Ah, suddenly it became clear that he had taken those moments for granted.
Lloyd would shut himself in his room, but Javier did not move far from the doorway. He leaned on the wall and crossed his arms like he normally did, but his eyes were sunken and lost. It didn’t take long for his body to slide down onto the floor, and for a moment he was reminded of that lonely winter wrapped in nothing but cloth.
“Master Lloyd…” how naive he was to feel that the Frontera estate was his home. It was, yes, but it did not feel like it without him. He already knew of this when he had to watch over him in Cremo, but the knight was harshly reminded of these thoughts now, when his master was nowhere in sight.
Javier would wallow in his sorrow until he heard a familiar squeak. To his surprise, Lloyd’s four summons were standing in front of him, looking just as worried as he was. The knight blinked, what did this mean? That these summons were tied to the body of Lloyd, hence they were still here? Did they serve his original master now? Or, dare he hope, did that mean…
…that his Lloyd was still alive somewhere?
It was unfortunate that only the summoner could understand what they were saying, but the fact that they were not with the original Lloyd might mean that their loyalty was not with him. If anything, they seemed to be searching for the same thing he was looking for. But when he asked them if they had any idea of what happened, they just shook their heads sadly.
Suddenly, Javier heard a yell from Lloyd’s room and he immediately sprang onto his feet. Holding the hilt of his sword, he was about to burst through the door, but his senses stopped him–he couldn’t sense anyone in there other than Lloyd. And yet despite this, the hooligan kept talking as if conversing with someone, and the topic of conversation was strange. It reminded him a little of when his Lloyd would sometimes make faces for no reason at all or would suddenly change moods from one moment to the next. Was the same thing plaguing this Lloyd? Whatever it was, it seemed to have given him something, to find something.
Find what?
And would the human trash even be hard-pressed to look for it? But it lit a small spark of hope in him. Maybe there was still a chance, and as much as he hated thinking about it, it looked like he would need the help of hooligan Lloyd to find his real master.
✲
“...what a long, long dream.”
Suho could already feel the events of said dream falling away from his mind. Everything was blurred until there was nothing left. There was only the poor excuse of a bed he laid on and his phone lying on top of his chest. When he picked it up and opened the screen, it was 7 in the morning. The last tab he had opened was an earlier chapter of The Knight of Blood and Iron .
Had he been dreaming about the novel? Hah, that would be funny, pretending to be Javier while he cut away his enemies. The smile from that thought quickly dissipated, however, as he suddenly felt his chest throb painfully. Heartburn? No, this was concentrated on the center of his chest; an emotional pain that translated into something physically felt.
But why?
Ah, there was no time to think of why. He had work today, even if it was a weekend. Grumbling, he pushed himself out of bed and rubbed his eyes.
It was just another day in his shoddy existence.