A Blade, Blood, and Mystery

Melch's frail body, already ravaged by the disease Valkora had been pushed far beyond its limits. The boy had spent the entire night conducting the forbidden magic from the Codex of False Healing, a tome he had discovered in the dusty corners of the ancestor's room. The spell required a mix of stolen ingredients from the family vault, and in his desperation, Melch had injured himself repeatedly while sneaking them out—his hands trembling as he worked tirelessly. One deep cut on his palm still oozed blood, a necessary component for the ritual that had brought John into his body.

The toll of these actions weighed heavily on Melch. His weakened state, combined with the strain of sleepless nights and the exhausting rituals left him utterly depleted. John, now trapped in Melch's body could feel the pain and fatigue coursing through him. His movements were sluggish, his limbs unresponsive. The memories of Melch's life had flooded his consciousness, leaving John overwhelmed by a sense of melancholy and desperation.

After the ritual's completion, John had collapsed in the ancestor's room, unable to muster the strength to leave. His head throbbed from the rush of memories, and his frail, borrowed body forced him into an uneasy sleep.

The next morning, Patricia, a maid with long, curly hair and a youthful innocence that revealed her years of service, arrived at Melch's room carrying his daily medicines. She knocked softly on the door, her voice gentle but insistent.

"Young master, it's time for your medicine" she called. When no response came, her brow furrowed. She tried the door handle, only to find it locked.

Patricia's concern grew. Melch rarely locked his door and even when he did, he would always respond to her calls. She lingered by the door, uncertain of what to do?

A faint tune began to echo through the hallway, cheerful and unbothered. Leif appeared around the corner, humming a lively melody as he balanced a bouquet of freshly picked flowers in one hand. He moved with an easy, light-footed gait, his energy contagious.

"Morning, Patricia!" Leif greeted brightly. "A bouquet for the littlest Vasti. Naeth's going to love these—they're still fresh from the dew!" His grin faltered slightly when he noticed Patricia's worried expression.

"Hey, What's with the long face?" he asked, his youthful energy giving way to concern. "Is Melch all right?"

Patricia hesitated before answering. "I've knocked, but there's no response. The door is locked, and he's not taking his medicine. This isn't like him."

Leif's mind raced. Despite Melch's eccentricities, he always took his medicine. Something felt off. "Let me take care of this" he said, his voice steady despite the knot of worry forming in his chest.

First, Leif went to Naeth's room to place the flowers in her vase. The youngest Vasti, who was two years old had a penchant for simple joys—flowers, butterflies and the occasional playful visit to the stables. With a glance out Naeth's window, Leif noticed that Melch's room's windows were slightly open. An idea struck him and he hurried outside.

Melch, ever the curious and resourceful one, had a habit of sneaking out of his room using the large tree near his window. Leif had learned the trick from him and now intended to use it to gain entry. With practiced ease, he climbed the tree and slipped into Melch's room through the open window.

But the room was empty.

Leif's heart sank. He quickly unlocked the door from the inside, letting Patricia in. "He's not here" he said grimly. "We need to tell Galen and Lady Liliana."

The news of Melch's disappearance threw the Vasti household into chaos. Galen, the aged and stern butler whose wisdom had guided the family through many crises, wasted no time organizing a search. His brisk commands echoed through the halls as servants scurried to obey.

"Check the grounds thoroughly" he ordered. "Every room, every corner. Leave no place unexamined." His sharp eyes landed on Leif, who was fidgeting nervously. "You—what were you and the young master doing yesterday? Speak truthfully, boy."

Leif hesitated under Galen's piercing gaze but knew better than to lie. "We went to the ancestor's hall and ancestor's room" he admitted, scratching the back of his head. "Melch… well, he was bleeding again like usual and we were… uh, just looking around and playing. I brought him back, made sure he rested. We didn't do anything weird, I promise!"

Liliana, the matriarch of the household, who had been listening silently raised an eyebrow but didn't interrupt. Her composure was unshaken, her mind already piecing together the puzzle. This wasn't the first time Melch's curiosity had led him into trouble. She knew the boy's illness made him restless, his mind eager to uncover all the corners and secrets within their estate.

"The ancestor's room" Liliana said, her voice calm but resolute. "If he's anywhere, it will be there."

Without hesitation, she led the way, her movements purposeful. She knew the secret passageways of the estate better than anyone and quickly navigated to the ancestor's hall. As she approached, her sharp eyes caught sight of a figure lying on the cold stone floor.

It was Melch.

Liliana knelt beside him, her gaze immediately taking in the scene. A knife lay discarded nearby, its blade stained with dried blood. Her hand moved to check the boy's pulse, her mind assessing every detail. There were no fresh wounds on his body, but his face was pale, his breathing shallow.

"Melch," she murmured, her voice softening. Her fingers brushed against his forehead. "What have you done, my child?"

Behind her, Galen's voice cut through the quiet. "Is he alive, my lady?"

"He's alive" Liliana confirmed, though her tone carried a weight of concern. She turned to Patricia, who stood trembling at the doorway. "Fetch warm water and clean cloths. Quickly."

Patricia nodded, her curls bouncing as she hurried away.

Leif hovered nearby, guilt written across his face. "I should've stopped him. I should've told someone sooner."

Liliana glanced at him, her expression unreadable. "You're a loyal friend, Leif. But loyalty sometimes blinds us to what must be done. Stay with me now. We'll get him through this."

As Patricia returned with the supplies, Liliana began cleaning the dried blood from Melch's hand. Her movements were steady, her focus unwavering. Despite the blood, there were no visible wounds on Melch's hand or body, a detail that only deepened the mystery. Galen standing tall and imposing observed silently, his presence a pillar of strength.

"We don't know what happened here" Galen said at last, his voice grave. "But it's clear this situation requires discretion."

"For now, he needs rest" Liliana replied, her tone firm yet calm. "Leif, carry him with me to his room."

Leif obeyed, gently lifting his friend's frail body. As they left the ancestor's hall, Liliana cast one last glance at the discarded knife and the faint traces of disturbance that lingered in the air. The weight of what might have happened pressed heavily on her mind, but no answers presented themselves. For now, the boy's survival was all that mattered.

Galen lingered in the room for a moment longer, his sharp eyes scanning every detail. The knife, its blade crusted with dried blood, lay ominously on the floor. Yet there were no clear signs of what had transpired—no marks of ritual or disturbance beyond the bloodied blade. Whatever Melch had done here, it remained shrouded in secrecy.

Turning to Patricia, who stood nervously by the doorway, Galen's tone shifted to one of firm authority. "Patricia, you are not to speak of this to anyone. Not the other staff, not the family. Do you understand?"

Patricia nodded quickly, clutching her hands tightly. "Yes, Sir Galen. I understand."

"Good," Galen replied briskly. "Now go prepare fresh linens for the young master's bed. He will need comfort and quiet when he awakens."

As Patricia hurried away to carry out her orders, Galen took one last measured look at the room before following Liliana and Leif. The events in the ancestor's hall remained a puzzle, but Galen knew better than to jump to conclusions. Answers would come in time and until then, silence and caution would serve the household best.