Edited by: bafflinghaze
West Wing, Odum Manor
Barefooted, Neo wandered down the hall with a blanket over himself and a night pearl to light his path.
His hair was damp from a late-night bath. He hadn’t bothered to tame the strands so they fell loosely and brushed his shoulders.
He wore a set of black silk sleeping robes, courtesy of Rainier who had left it on his bed before excusing himself for the evening. There was something urgent he needed to do, hence he left earlier than usual.
Neo made little effort to wear the robes properly. His neck and collarbone were exposed due to how loose he had tied the sashes.
If anyone were to stumble upon him in this state of Don’t-Give-A-Fuck Casual, they would likely faint at the lack of modesty.
The hallway was dark and devoid of servants. Night shifts and patrols happened between the walls and hidden passages; hence the reason Neo even had the audacity to look the way he did right now.
The night pearl flickered a couple of times and proceeded to shine even brighter. Neo mentally made a note to write that down in his report.
This was no ordinary night pearl. Supposedly, it was a new and improved version of the current ones on the market.
The Beast Breeding Department of the Magic Tower had bred a new variant of Night Oysters that could produce night pearls with a stronger glow. Unfortunately, the pearls tended to flicker and flash every couple of minutes, a flaw that Neo was starting to notice as a beta tester.
Quill was the one who designed the maintenance seal to keep the pearls glowing for a year. There was either a problem with the seal or something wrong with the new oysters.
(He decided not to think about the future beef he was about to create for the Beast Breeding and Charm Department after writing his report.)
Speaking of the Magic Tower, the anti-Slave Emblem was on the verge of another breakthrough. He was 97% percent sure the next prototype would be a success, but he needed to wait.
For the last few days, he was experiencing another relapse, and the last thing he wanted to do when having a relapse was to start an experiment.
This lesson was learned the hard way when he first started working as a researcher. His sponsors had sent him to a laboratory so shitty, its researchers were running on fumes.
Of course, none of his sponsors knew about it until much, much later.
All the researchers were locked inside the labs all day, trying to crack open their heads so they could think. But it was so hard to think up solutions and answers when no one had seen the sky in days.
Mental health was plummeting like crazy in that sort of environment, and Neo was in there for weeks. He couldn’t find the time to get in contact with his therapist, and this eventually led to a regression in his mental health.
It was a bad time.
The company was pressuring the researchers to give the green light on an experiment, and he fucked up by giving in to their demands despite his values and caused a disastrous loss of resources.
His decision-making skills were poor, and his mind couldn’t operate the way it was supposed to from the stress.
The safety of some of the voluntary participants in the drug trial was compromised.
His sponsors pulled him out of there and sued the company for the mistreatment of their researchers. This was followed by several other lawsuits by the participants of the drug trial.
The company neglected the health and safety protocols of its workers, which was highly illegal in the medical research industry. The company later went bankrupt, and some people were arrested.
Neo was put on probation for a year since he was one of the head researchers leading the experiment. His sponsors didn’t allow him access to a lab until they felt he was ready to work again.
So yes, Neo felt like his mind was plummeting into a death spiral.
Should he be pulling all-nighters for three days straight? Maybe not, but he had good reasons why.
It was either he faced his nightmares, or he didn’t sleep. At least he could be productive if he didn’t sleep.
The recurring nightmares were freaking him out after his visit to the Archives, and he couldn’t ring up his therapist to talk about it.
He had dreamt of the Modern World.
In his dream, he saw everyone.
They were all looking at him strangely like they had discovered one of his deepest secrets.
And then Neo saw him.
He was dressed in mismatched colors, and his hair was down to his waist, unkept, tangled, and scattered to the wind… and he was crying.
Tears streamed down his face, their face, and Neo was met with vermillion eyes filled to the brim with despair.
Then he was back on that cliff, bleeding out. The cold rain splashed against his face, the waves beneath the cliff collided against the rock, the storm raged, and the smell of fire and smoke filled his nose.
Aurelion watched with his eyes glowing against the backdrop of a dark sky struck by lightning. He carried a sword covered in blood, and a twisted smile started to form on his lips–
It was either watch that play out in his mind over and over again in his sleep or pull a couple of all-nighters until he passed out from sheer exhaustion so his brain could reboot.
On the bright side, Neo yawned, he was starting to feel the signs of sleep deprivation.
Yet here he was, walking around like an idiot without anything better to do.
He ran his hand through his hair. The strands had grown longer since he cut them, and they kept getting in his face.
He wanted to grow them out again now that he had adapted to this world.
After all, the real reason he wanted his hair short in the first place was because it kept reminding him of the crazy boy who lived and died miserably on that cliff…
—
Nazareth hadn’t asked for a second chance.
He was resentful when he bled to death, but he accepted his fate. Death was a natural part of living, and he, a worthless ant in the eyes of the gods, could not change the prewritten destiny.
He never intended to reincarnate into that Modern World with the memories of his first life.
To wake up in the body of an infant—abandoned, alone, unwanted—in an orphanage, was hell.
He was aggrieved and unwilling of his new fate. Betrayed by death, abandoned by the spirits who gifted ignorance, and the gods who guided the souls into oblivion, he was alone, feeble, and devoid of power.
Nazareth let his unhappiness grow. His grievances made the journey across the bridge of one lifetime to another, and there was no remorse for his actions.
He did not regret a single thing he did!
The world wasn’t kind to him, so what reason did he have to give those undeserving fools a chance?!
Damn the gods and everyone who denied him! Damn the life that gave him nothing!
If he could go back and do it all again, he would! He would relive every single moment repeating everything he did, and he would thrive in the chaos he was destined to create!
… This pretty much summed up the first two years of his reincarnation.
(It was the first time the orphanage workers had seen such an emo and angsty baby. The child didn’t cry often unless he needed his basic needs met. He would often sit there and stare at the wall, glaring with that weirdly adorable scrunch on his face, as if he was done with life already. Many people were concerned that the child would end up with premature wrinkles.)
But one day, a man and a woman stepped into the orphanage.
They took him home.
In that Modern World, Nazareth was shown love once again. The child who was once lost to the Western Slums and their brutality emerged from the iron shell he had created and accepted the warmth and care of the elderly couple.
They created a safe space for him to open his heart, and he did.
Nazareth lived there for decades and received a second childhood full of everything he had always wanted. The simplicity of love and genuine care, of comfort in his darkest times; they soothed the scars of his soul.
Those soft and tender parts he once felt too vulnerable to display so openly, the parts which made him the poor boy in rags who lived happily in a brothel house with his mummy, appeared in response to the patience he was given.
He went to a lot of therapy during his childhood and teen years. Even into adulthood, he saw his therapist consistently, but nothing could be compared to the number of visits he made to his therapist when he was younger.
It was painful working through his traumas and nightmares.
He spoke of his past life as if they were dreams. It was difficult explaining the emotions he harbored in that lifetime, but he had a good therapist.
Nazareth lived a life without caring for the damage he caused to those around him, and the worst part was, he chose to enact the evils he committed, consequences be damned.
He was the catalyst of the end.
“Look, I understand your traumas are valid, but that didn’t mean you had to be a terrorist,” his therapist said, “Neo, all this stuff about your nightmares is a manifestation of your desires. You want to blame your flaws on the circumstances of your childhood, but you can’t do that. That’s not how this works.”
How was he supposed to accept that?
It took him a long time to stop blaming everything.
“You have a victim mentality,” his therapist said, not unkindly.
He found new ways to live.
He studied hard in school, cared for his adoptive parents, and found his calling in medical research.
He had interests.
He pierced his ears, got some tattoos, went to tea-drinking festivals with his Ma, watched his Pa knit the next set of Christmas sweaters, and dragged some of his friends from high school to go mushroom hunting in the mountains for a month because according to his Ma, his Pa wanted puffball mushrooms for his birthday, etc., etc., etc.
Redemption.
He wanted to save lives.
For every person he had hurt, for every person he had indirectly caused the death of, or paid the price, or suffered, Neo wanted to atone for what he did.
He studied and fought for the lives of the people in that world. He patented as many of his discoveries and medicines as he could and sold them with price regulations.
These regulations controlled the prices in the market so the medicines could be affordable to everyone in his country. He patented each of his discoveries and prevented corporations from profiting off his own formulation of insulin and heart disease medicine.
Neo didn’t believe life-saving medicine should be expensive.
It was decades of work. Decades of a life where he thought he could live to make up for his mistakes.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
But it was now over.
He hadn’t dwelled on this fact since coming back. The emotions had been too raw. He would be lying if he said it wasn’t painful to leave everything behind.
A good family, good job, good colleagues. He spent two decades more in that world actually living.
Not simply surviving.
“…”
He was likely never going to see them again.
—
Neo stood in front of a window overlooking the Western Garden. Under the moon’s light, the last peonies have lost all their petals. In contrast, the pink hydrangeas were starting to take their place.
“That’s a sign of the inevitable,” a quiet and raspy voice whispered.
Neo met vermillion eyes on the reflection of the window glass.
Pale skin, raven black hair. The Odum’s nose from his father, his eyes from his mother. That mole on his chin… the eerie darkness he knew festering underneath it all.
It could also mean a sign of change, Neo thought in response.
Nazareth frowned in displeasure.
“You are messing it all up.”
Maybe.
“You shouldn’t be here. We shouldn’t be here.”
Perhaps.
“It will be ruined by your hands if you continue—”
Why are you scared?
“…”
The boy in the mirror looked at him deeply and then vanished, leaving Neo to simply stare at himself.
He didn’t bother taking his heart demons too seriously.
This was a boy who died slowly on the edge of a cliff, left to bleed out from a sword wound.
This was the boy who forced his own younger brother to kill him.
The murderer, the traitor, the scummy-troublemaking bastard.
A terrorist who let children get caught in the crossfire of his games.
Nazareth was not the idiot who forgot to sleep and ultimately died of exhaustion.
Not the one with a loving family, a decent job, and therapy.
That boy was a beast.
He had his reasons for what he did, they all had reasons, but those reasons never justified the end.
Alas, that was who he was.
Neo hadn’t been that boy for a very long time, but it didn’t mean Nazareth and Neo were not one and the same.
He couldn’t deny they were him, whoever he was.
He had lived both lives, and experienced every single tragedy and happiness life had to offer.
They came with many regrets, but also with many valuable lessons.
Neo learned how to live, despite what others thought.
No one could possibly know how much he enjoyed living.
He continued to walk.
The hallway was dark. If not for the windows on the side allowing the moonlight to enter, or the night pearl, it would have sunk into complete darkness.
The manor was large and old. Stories of ghosts—
There was a crying noise coming from the corner.
It was a strange sound as if someone was choking on their tears.
Neo paused.
“Hyuk… Hic… Hic… Ngh… Ump…”
“…”
He looked around.
What were the chances a ghost would come out on this particular night?
The manor wasn’t actually haunted by ghosts… right?
(Thought Neo, the person who regularly visited the Magic Tower. The same Magic Tower which held the largest Paranormal and Supernatural Department in the Empire.)
In total denial, Neo turned and paused.
Well. Shit.
From what the night pearl was able to make out, that was definitely a child sitting there.
He noticed their back was against the wall and their face was buried against their knee.
The—ghost?—child was sobbing quietly.
Neo took a step back.
“…”
Fuck.
—
Aurelion was not used to crying.
Tears were useless and did nothing.
Yet, Nazareth had always been the cause for his tears.
They were wasted on him, Aurelion knew.
Nazareth wouldn’t have cared if he broke down into a fit of tears before his eyes.
Even Serian once told him his brother wasn’t worth the emotions.
Deep in his heart, Aurelion knew he was still the same naive boy searching for praise from an older brother who rather saw him dead.
Was he wrong to close himself off from his brother? But after many attempts to gain some sort of recognition, Aurelion had to give up. His heart couldn’t take it anymore after being met with so much disappointment.
So he listened to Serian and promised himself that Nazareth wouldn’t be worth the pain.
… But the spring holiday happened.
… Then the bad kidnapping attempt happened.
… And then the coffee breaks, and the Glasshouse with Guinivere, and then… Rainier didn’t want to be a spy anymore…
All the negative emotions in Aurelion’s heart finally detonated at that moment.
His tears were like a flood and could no longer be restrained. The dam of emotions broke through their walls in a mixture of confusion, denial, and sorrow.
Aurelion pressed his face against his knees and heaved another sob.
—
The day Nazareth was brought to the Odum Manor
Aurelion remembered how he and Guinivere were dressed to impress.
After all, they were going to get a new sibling. An older sibling.
Aurelion had wanted to make sure their new older brother would like them.
He had been six, Guinivere five. Their brother was seven, a very mature and dignified age.
No doubt he was going to be the best older brother in the world. Aurelion just knew it, and he hadn’t even met him.
The manor’s gates unfolded, and he and Guinivere could hardly contain their excitement.
It was in the way they imitated their mother. They had stared intensely at the arriving carriage, eager to meet their older brother.
They waited by the steps of the entrance. Servants lined both sides, backs straight and faces blank. It felt like they were welcoming a guest of honor.
Father stepped inside, guiding a boy through the door.
The boy wore pants rolled up several times so they didn’t touch the ground, and had on a coat larger than himself, the opening fastened haphazardly together in the middle with what looked to be a piece of the curtain from the carriage.
His hair reached past his shoulders and reminded Aurelion of a mess of black raven feathers.
And his eyes…
His older brother had the most mesmerizing eyes. They were a deep red hue, wide and all-knowing. They met Aurelion’s gaze with indifference.
Mother commented how his eyes were similar to another family’s, though Aurelion ignored that part because Nazareth was going to be a part of their family now, not some other noble’s family.
Father led his new brother to his wing of the manor. The West Wing was unoccupied and usually given to guests.
No one else had used it in a very long time.
The peonies were planted in the Western Garden a few days later.
—
Having a big brother in the manor took time getting used to.
Nazareth was similar to Mother in the way he rarely spoke.
His presence was at first likened to a ghost.
In the rare times Aurelion saw him, his big brother was almost like a doll.
He was always staring, eyes wide and large and unblinking.
Admittedly, Nazareth was a little lifeless, but Aurelion had hoped he would adapt to the manor life with a little more time.
Mealtimes with an additional person were a little awkward.
There was this… strangeness about Nazareth that made meals quieter.
And he was still staring.
At Aurelion.
(Many years later, when Aurelion visited the Western Slums for an investigation, he saw a group of street rats staring at a corpse on the ground. The way they stared at the body was similar to the way his older brother had once stared at him when they were little…)
That should have been the first sign of what life would be like in the coming years.
But Aurelion was a naive boy who thought with time, he could win over his brother’s love.
Until the first attempt to poison him started.
In the beginning, no one suspected it was Nazareth.
The ‘poison’ wasn’t a poison at all. Someone had added a large amount of nutmeg to Aurelion’s meal and it caused him to become severely ill. He was bedridden for a week.
Mother interrogated the entire staff.
She managed to weed out ten servants who were disloyal and spying for other families and tossed them into the Royal Prison for further… questioning…
But the perpetrator was never found.
No one came forward with anything, so the entire staff had to be replaced.
The case was eventually dropped and all meals became tightly monitored.
It was around a month later when Aurelion saw the book his new brother would carry around with him.
The book was bound haphazardly and made from parchment and paper scraps.
Sometimes, when he caught his new brother reading it, he noticed there were pictures of common medicinal plants on its pages.
Six months later, Nazareth invited him for tea.
His brother smiled at him gently while the servants prepared the table.
“What’s that?” he had asked, staring at a pot of red liquid with some bright red berries floating on top.
His brother answered, “Hawthorn tea. Would you like some?”
“Yes!”
Aurelion excitedly accepted a cup, happy his brother was willing to share.
The servants tried to help him pour the tea, but he rejected them quickly. He wanted his brother to do it for him.
Nazareth poured the tea and stirred in what looked to be a powdery substance.
“What’s that?” Aurelion asked again because he was curious about everything when it came to his older brother.
“Hawthorn sugar. It’s made from the seeds,” his brother patiently said, sliding the cup over to him.
Aurelion drank every last drop.
Except…
“… Eh?”
His mouth went dry.
Bump. Bump. Bump. Bumpbumpbumpbump–
Aurelion’s head spun, dizziness overcoming him.
The chaos that followed sounded muffled and far away. The servants panicked and picked him up. He was carried back to his bedroom and a healer was called.
But what haunted Aurelion most was the last glimpse of his brother, sitting there with a teacup brought to his lips, as if he was a mere observer of the situation.
The blank indifference in his brother’s eyes lit for the first time with a flash of ruthlessness, sparking a dread in Aurelion’s stomach.
Why? Why did he do that? What did he do? What did he do to warrant such hatred?!
Aurelion had reached out, begging.
But his vision darkened as the breath tore away from him, and for one terrifying moment, he thought he was going to die.
Waking up in bed to his mother’s face had him sobbing even harder.
Because… that was his own brother who tried to kill him.
It was revealed that Father questioned Nazareth about the situation.
His brother didn’t lie. He confessed to knowingly overdosing on him with nutmeg and poisoning him with hawthorn seeds.
As punishment, Nazareth was confined to his room for a week.
Aurelion, for the first time since his new big brother came to live with them, wished Father and Mother had expelled Nazareth from the manor.
Following the poisoning incident, Nazareth began to show his true colors.
He was angry, he was vile… he was a crazy bastard.
As for Mother and Father, when he told them everything, they froze.
And he could see it in their eyes.
That look of acknowledgment.
They knew.
They knew everything…
So why?
When he demanded an answer, his father merely shook his head. He and Mother shared a look.
“Nazareth has to stay…”
And so he did.
Nazareth’s existence tainted every part of the manor’s stone walls.
He terrorized the servants, dragged the Odum reputation into the dirt, sent assassins after him, and intimidated the rest of high society.
But it all changed when Aurelion joined the Academy. He started to actively fight back.
It was Serian who reminded him he was still the Odum Heir—that he was still an Odum child.
And Nazareth, this… this demon wasn’t going to terrorize him for the rest of his life.
Aurelion made alliances, created ties in the Royal Faction, built his network of spies and loyal subordinates, and fought his brother until they finally came to a standstill.
He and his brother clashed head to head, and it was both exhilarating and miserable.
Nazareth openly sent assassins after him, toyed with the safety of his friends, and threatened him on several occasions.
Aurelion often forced himself to meet his brother’s frightening gaze whenever they met on the metaphorical battlegrounds. Gods, his brother had always been larger than life. He was but a quail compared to Nazareth’s all-knowing and encompassing force.
But Memphis and Serian, and all his companions remained beside him in the ensuing struggle. Aurelion found strength in his friends.
He, at least, had something to protect.
Then Nazareth cut his hair and all hell broke loose.
—
Nazareth had changed, but what frightened Aurelion the most was the ease with which his brother became… his brother.
The ease with which the entire student body, the entire family and staff, and even Rainier, accepted this version of his brother.
The ease with which Aurelion started to grow attached.
It felt as if he was trapped inside a nightmare for the last ten years and finally broken free.
It was pathetic because it just went to show how much Aurelion wanted that big brother.
He was still the child who had a heart full of expectations when the gates opened and that seven-year-old boy stepped into the manor.
All he wanted of Nazareth was to talk to him, to be acknowledged. He wanted his big brother to care.
And Nazareth did.
Sometimes, Aurelion would forget the same hands which patted his head or squeezed his shoulders had also poured poison into his drinks and were stained with blood.
His emotions were like an unpleasant cocktail in his mind.
He suddenly heard footsteps approaching.
Abruptly, Aurelion froze.
“…”
He peeked out from his arms and saw a shadow behind an eerie ball of light standing under the moonlight.
Aurelion felt his blood turn into ice as a chill set in.
The light flickered and flashed.
No way…
Please don’t be a ghost, please don’t be a ghost, please don’t be a ghost…
He lifted his head—
Clink!
Photo!
“…”
“Ahhhhh!”
A ghastly scream came from the shadowy creature as it stumbled back. The light went flying toward Aurelion and hit the wall behind him, missing his head by a few inches.
The ghostlight—no, actually, wasn’t that a night pearl?—fell to the ground and flickered several times before blinding him with its glow.
Aurelion blinked several times and saw the creature’s true appearance—
“Ahhhhhh!”
Now he was screaming!
The creature had red, menacing eyes, and its face was covered with damp hair as if it was a drowned spirit. There was even a blanket hanging off of its body haphazardly, likely the reason why the ghost drowned in the first place.
But then, as he took a breath and made full eye contact with the monster—
“AHHHHHHHH!”
Both Aurelion and the drowned ghost were now screaming at the top of their lungs, startled and confused and frightened—
Wait, frighten?
Come to think of it, those eyes looked somewhat familiar…
“Aurelion?!”
Oh.
The blanket slipped off his brother’s shoulders.
Oh.
The night pearl on the ground glowed even brighter.
Oh shit.
With red-rimmed eyes, Aurelion gazed up at Nazareth like the miserable ice cube he was.
“Brother…”
—
Neo felt like his heart had jumped out of his lungs. Dear lord, Aurelion’s resting face reminded him of Vespera for a moment!
He almost assumed his younger brother was the ghost of a child ax murderer!
He patted his heart lightly—he thought he was going to die of a cardiac arrest—and recomposed himself.
Grabbing his blanket from the ground, he held it in his arms and shuffled awkwardly to Aurelion.
“What are you doing here?”
The other didn’t reply.
Neo frowned.
It couldn’t be.
This was starting to look like a heartbreak. Who did he have to kill—ahem—write a letter to?
With little knowledge of what to do, he sat down beside Aurelion and placed his blanket around them wordlessly.
Aurelion’s eyes snapped to him in surprise, but Neo stoically looked ahead.
“Don’t sulk in the hall. I thought you were a ghost.”
He leaned closer to his ice cube brother until their shoulders were touching.
Neither of them looked at the other, seemingly content to stare at the wall in front of them in silence.
It was fine.
For now.
Cuddling with Aurelion in the middle of the hallway was not on the agenda, but it wasn’t like there was anything he needed to do.
Now they looked like two dumbass kids sitting out here for no reason. You absolute dunderheads, privilege is wasted on you.
Why did that feel like something Professor Rickman would say?
But then, Neo heard Aurelion mutter something under his breath.
“Hm?”
Aurelion frowned.
Neo turned to look at him, and what he saw was what he least expected.
He hadn’t noticed, but Aurelion’s eyes were swollen red, and there were obvious tear stains on his face.
Neo had never seen his little brother look so vulnerable.
His gaze was profound, weary, and hurt, all rolled into one. He looked so tired.
All of a sudden, Neo knew what this was about.
How could he not when the evidence was right in front of him?
“You…” Neo paused.
Aurelion looked away as if he was ashamed.
Neo pulled the blanket around them tighter.
He had been so little. That kid used to follow him around secretly when he first came to the manor. He was a stupid little limpet, eating whatever Neo gave him without checking.
Even after realizing he was behind the hawthorn and nutmeg poisoning, the kid still got himself poisoned several times to the point he became immune to most of the common poisons on the market.
Aurelion had loved his brother too early. Nazareth only knew how to hate the world.
Neo simply wanted penance.
What a mess they made, unsurprising as it was.
Aurelion then asked the most important question.
“Why did you do it?”
Neo closed his eyes.
—
Step 38. Living two lifetimes and then coming back can be hard. You will be sleep-deprived and may want to walk it off. Along the way, there might be an ice cube crying in the corner. It’s best to be honest—but how honest can you really be?
The author has something to say:
Thank you, IchigoWhiskey and raevie for the lovely fanarts. Please go check them out on the fanart page.
Will Neo and Aurelion fix their relationship? Or will the boys suffer even more? Will an ice cube be melting again? Or will it turn into a glacier? How loud were Neo and Aurelion screaming? Did it wake up the entire household? If so, how pissed do you think Vespera will be? Find out in the next chapter!
raevie
IchigoWhiskey
Thank you for the chapter author!
Hopefully they will talk now.
Fanarts look amazing, qnd I always love the little steps at the end
Thank you for the chapter ❤
Loved the chapter.
There is a song that just feels like Neo
Your Stupid Face by Kaden MacKay
Thank you for the chapter!
Thank you for writing this story its soooo goood!
❤❤❤❤❤❤😂 the fact that they were screaming at each other…
💔 but they’re sad lil boys
This story is so cuteee, also this was so sad 🙁
The way they both screamed 😂😂
I hope it’s finally time to have them a good talk aaaaaa