'Tragic' Return

-North of Kalwahatian Peak: The Batumbangkaw Main Manor-

Bagwis's eyes snapped open and the familiar sight of the Batumbangkaw Manor gate entrance loomed before him, unchanged from the day he had last seen it. Except this time around, he wasn't the old, broken man lying on his deathbed. Nope, this time he was young again— specifically in his teens. Healthy. Alive.

He stood at the gates of the manor looking like he had the world on his shoulders, the weight of his master's sacrifice still fresh in his mind. Damn you, shitty old man. He clenched his fists, forcing back the bitterness that threatened to spill out.

As he stood before the grand gates, he let out a slow, exaggerated sigh.

The price paid had been his master's existence. No one would remember the Lonewolf. He had erased himself entirely from the fabric of reality to send Bagwis back. And now, here he was—alive again, with a second chance, bearing the guilt of being the only one left in the world who knows a man named Sitan Apolkan The Lonewolf, once existed.

And what am I supposed to do with that? he thought bitterly. Live up to your impossible expectations?

 Bagwis barely had time to dwell on the gnawing guilt as he entered the manor that has filled him with nothing but pain and a sense of worthlessness. Looking around the Batumbangkaw Manor was exactly as Bagwis remembered— cold, imposing, and utterly full of itself much like the people inside it.

Home sweet home, he deprecatingly thought. Besides who doesn't love being thrown back to their childhood trauma with all the subtlety of a kick to the groin?

Arriving at his pitiful place that he once called a room he spotted Lily—his ever-loyal maid (note the sarcasm)—packing his things. The sight was laughable to the current him. Here he was, returned by the ultimate sacrifice, and the first thing he see's was his maid stuffing his clothes into a bag like he was thrown trash.

"Lily? Why are you packing?" Bagwis asked, his voice carrying a tone of feigned innocence. He already knew the answer, of course. He just simply wanted to hear it from her mouth, again. After all, people always loved playing their little roles in the family drama.

Lily froze in her movements. Her hands shook slightly as she stuffed the last of his belongings into a shabby looking bag. Ah, there it is, the guilt.

"The patriarch..." she began, her voice almost robotic, "has ordered all your belongings to be packed. You're to be... removed from the family clan."

"Removed? Me? No! I am in utter shock!" Bagwis dramatically yelled as he placed a hand over his heart, as if he were genuinely surprised. Deep inside, he was rolling his eyes so hard he was surprised they stayed in his skull. Yes, how utterly unexpected, I'm sure Father lost sleep over this decision. Not.

Lily swallowed her saliva and avoided his gaze. "The patriarch has... deemed you unworthy of the family name and had your name removed from the clan and family registry."

There it is, Bagwis thought, a bitter smirk threatening to spill from his lips. Unworthy. The official verdict, delivered with all the emotional nuance of a monotoned narration. He almost wanted to applaud but he caught himself..

His eyes narrowed slightly. "T-then what about you and Greg?" he asked looking at his maid with downright innocence while pretending to stutter just to twist the knife a little deeper. Surely you two are coming with me, right? Because loyalty and all that shit?

Lily's hesitation said everything he wanted to know. She didn't even have to speak for him to know her response. In his past life he actually made a scene once he heard the news and even tried to trespass his fathers office to demand an explanation, keyword being tried.

Remembering those times of shame Bagwis could only shake his head in disapproval at his own actions.

"We've... both sent in request to serve the second young master." Lily answered.

Bagwis blinked. Once. Twice. Then, with mock solemnity, he said, "Oh... well, isn't that lovely for you both! Of course I can't take you guys with me! Its great that I'm the only one to suffer!" He elatedly said with sheer happiness as if I he were truly wishing them well. "As my lovely maid and guard I want nothing but the best for you and Greg. After all we've been together all my life!"

The silence was thick enough to slice through with a knife. But Bagwis let it hang, enjoying the discomfort on his maid's face. God, she's pathetic. Not that I can blame her. After all, survival's a game you have to play with the hand you're dealt with. In front of survival, loyalty is easily scrapped and thrown.

Lily handed him his bag—his last bag, filled with things he already knew, some worn out clothes and a chump amount of silver coins, as if he hadn't already been stripped of every shred of dignity.

She couldn't even bring herself to say sorry. Cowardice has such a charming way of silencing the guilty, doesn't it?

The manor gates slammed shut behind him. Like a grand, dramatic finale. Ah, yes, because nothing says 'we hate you' quite like slamming a door in your face. Top-tier theatrics, really.

A crowd had gathered to witness his disgrace as they whispered in hushed tones. Some looked a him with pity, while others with smug satisfaction.

Bagwis squatted down in front of the gates, covering his face with his hands, his body trembling as though in anguish.

The poor young master, abandoned by his family. How tragic, he mocked internally, biting his lip to keep himself from bursting into laughter. 

Oh yes, weep for me, you lot. Revel in my tragic play!