A memory in gray
It's too soon for the poison to take effect. The young master didn't show any signs of being in pain until at least half an hour after drinking the tea in my previous life.
Ba bump
Ba bump
Ba bump
Numbness gobbled the entirety of my left hand, making it limply fall to my side. The surroundings turned hazy and the sounds became distant. It all happened in an instant.
Ba bump
"Huff."
Ba bump
"Huff."
Grabbing and pulling my toughly bottomed shirt with a trembling right hand, I struggled to take in a breath while keeping my mind clear.
'Did I drink too much tea?'
The thing that I called poison was actually an effect caused by mixing the pill used for the young master's mana, and the medical tea I serve him. The tea can increase the effect of the pill, so the young master drinks it with his medicine all the time. Now that the doctor had increased the dosage of the pills, the increased effect created after drinking the tea would create an intense reaction in the man's mana veins, making them explode and lead to his death. But that never happened this fast! It would take 30 minutes to an hour before taking effect. Also, I didn't even have mana! Why would it react in a body with no magic powers in it?
"Huff."
My wobbling body hit someone, the strength in my knees vanished, and I plopped down to the floor like a poppet cut off from its strings.
"Hey! Are... Alright... Hey!"
The distant yet close sound of someone calling out to me couldn't be clearly heard. My drenched back was being supported by a hand and my tense shoulders were being held by someone.
"Ian! Ian!"
An old voice was calling me from behind.
"Ugh!"
A sharp needle was piercing my chest. I felt as if every center of my body was being tattered to pieces. I curled forward as a hot substance rose up in my throat.
"Blargh!"
A mouthful of red liquid was splashed on the ground. I crouched even more and continued to throw up.
'Is it because I don't have mana?'
I used to drink the tea every day and nothing happened to me even if it was not brewed enough due to me not having a single drop of mana in my body, but the pills were different. They were made to calm the turbulent flow of mana. Even if I don't have mana, the veins where mana uses to flow still exist in me. What would happen if someone who doesn't have mana takes a medicine meant to calm the mana flow and then drinks a medical tea after that?
"Ian! He... call... doctor..."
The old Ranger's voice was so distant I couldn't hear it properly. All I could hear were my loud heartbeats and my ragged breathing.
"Cough cough."
More and more blood wet the floor as I kept on coughing and vomiting. It didn't take long for my consciousness to start to sway and my body to become numb. I could feel myself fall on one side, my cheek hitting the cold ground and my vision going dark, hot blood was oozing out of my mouth, wetting my chin and drenching my shirt. My head was splitting and my insides were on fire.
'Damn. I'll really die at this rate!'
Not that I really care but... I still feel a little bit disappointed. The beginning of this round was quite interesting. Too bad, I won't get to know how this young master actually lost his memories and I won't get to eat his steaks anymore.
"Huff..."
I could hear my breathing. Actually, all I could hear was that, the sound of weakly panting and barely taking in breaths.
But that too faded soon and I was thrown into endless darkness.
. . . . .
PLOP
A book fell out of a young man's hand and dropped to the ground. The man's frowning brows twitched, his face paled, his sweat dropped, and his body curled up. His hand reached up to his chest, clenching the silk shirt he was wearing, pulling it down, and tearing the bottoms as he took a pained breath in.
His old butler, standing to his side, noticing his sudden odd action, called out his name in a low mumble.
"Young master Alaric?"
There were no answers from the young master but his muffled breathing.
Drip
Drip
Drip
Then came the faint sounds of something dripping to the ground. The man moved up his other free hand to his face, whipped off his mouth with the back of the hand, then stared at the stained skin and the red sleeve of his white shirt.
"Young master?"
The young man didn't respond. The butler grabbed his trembling body and shouted towards the guard at the door. The other servant in the room ran out to call the doctor. The peaceful atmosphere turned into chaos. The young master had collapsed, the doctor was late, and the servants were in a panic.
The ground was wet. It was red.
The windows were open. The curtains were swaying around. The weather was chilly. The wind was blowing. The sky was dark. It was night.
The young man's body was laying on his butler's lap, cold and unmoving, silent and still. Dead.
He had passed away in the span of a few minutes.
Or maybe more... Maybe less.
I didn't know.
I didn't want to know.
The scene I was seeing was not real. It was not the present. It was not anything that concerned me anymore.
The incident happening before my eyes in black and white colors was not a traumatic memory, nor a trivial one. It was just one of the many memories inside my head. It was just there. And I knew full well what would happen next in this memory.
So, I stood there in silence. Playing the rule of an invisible onlooker, I didn't even take a step forward. I stood there and watched as the young man died helplessly, as the old butler moaned in the loss of the master he had raised like his own child, as the soldiers stomped the room in search of the cause of death, even as I was dragged away by guards to the prison, I said and did nothing.
I didn't know how long it took. How long was I in that dream? How long did it take for this gray scenery to gradually turn darker and darker and for me to be thrown into the endless darkness? I didn't want to know. Why was that important anyway?
It was a dream.
Having a dream was strange. It meant my body was somewhere, laying down, asleep or unconscious. It meant I was alive.
It meant I didn't die from the poison I took.