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Son Of The Grand Duke

When Alaric first awoke after a long slumber, longer than he could remember, he was no longer in his own body but in the body of a fifteen-year-old. What was worse was that he couldn't remember anything about his old life, but the mysteries didn't end there. What he could remember was a book he once read, his name, Alaric, and that he shared it with the body he had awoken in. How did he know that? Well... it belonged to a character in that book of course, Alaric Astraeus son of Duke Astraeus. *New cover Page* Updates will be any time between [1800]hrs to [2100]hrs (UTC).

Croppedtrolley · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
49 Chs

Purpose(3)

The scenery around them shifted abruptly, and Alaric found himself suspended once again. This time, however, he was surrounded by galaxies and stars, a cosmic tapestry that transcended the bounds of his known universe. The sheer grandeur of celestial bodies mesmerized him as he floated amidst the cosmic dance.

A voice, ethereal and resonant, emerged from the vastness. It was the universe's consciousness, a featureless figure standing to his immediate right with hands clasped behind its back in an authoritative pose. The cosmic being began, "Worlds exist under order, child. There are beings beyond order, entities of chaos whose purpose, in stark contrast to ours, is to plunge all of existence into their chaotic embrace."

As the words reverberated, the cosmos around them underwent a profound transformation. The constellations and galaxies that once adorned the expanse began to fade, succumbing to an encroaching darkness that transcended the mere absence of light. Alaric felt an unsettling fear, witnessing the undoing of reality at its very core, an irreversible unravelling that left an indelible mark on his consciousness. At that moment realization came over him, and his gaze shifted toward the universe's consciousness. 

Turning his gaze toward the universe's consciousness, Alaric sought understanding. The featureless figure wore a cryptic smile, and with its conjured mouth, it explained, "Yes, your principality was originally a conduit for the abyss, a force that could have eventually led to the demise of this universe. Paradoxically, your resistance to corruption has altered the course of fate. Things are more intricate than I am making them seem, but in the grand scheme of things, the tide has turned in this universe's favour. There is much more to know; however, you are much too weak and too young. There are answers in your world, and I trust you will be able to find them. I look forward to our next conversation if we ever meet, Alaric."

An air of uncertainty hung between them. Alaric, now confronted with the realization of his unintended cosmic significance, grappled with unanswered questions. Panic painted his features; he had unanswered questions, struggling to decide which one to get off his chest first, in a desperate attempt to glean some understanding, he questioned the universe's consciousness

"What of the gods? Do those exist?"

The consciousness replied with a blend of affirmation and ambiguity, "What waste of a question...Yes and no, till our next encounter, Harbinger."

The cosmic backdrop plunged into darkness once more, signalling the initiation of processes beyond Alaric's comprehension.

In the realm of what we would consider a mundane world, Alaric's previous life unfolded. Born to Jonathan and Isabella Hartman, he grew up in a quiet suburban town named Crestwood. Jonathan worked as an architect, often sketching designs at the kitchen table, while Isabella devoted her time to teaching literature at the local high school. The Hartman household was filled with warmth, love, and the scent of freshly baked cookies, creating a picture-perfect family atmosphere.

From a young age, Alaric, or Rick as he was fondly called, displayed a fascination with military stories. His small hands clutched action figures, and his imagination soared with tales of valour and heroism. Jonathan, having served in the military during his youth, encouraged Rick's interest, sharing anecdotes from his own experiences. The father-son bond strengthened as they spent weekends watching war documentaries and playing strategic board games.

Rick's childhood was marked by an eagerness to explore. He had a small circle of friends, and together they embarked on countless adventures in the nearby woods, fueled by tales of hidden treasures and imaginary foes. As he grew older, Rick's fascination with the military deepened. He immersed himself in books on military strategy, history, and warfare, finding solace in the structured world of tactics and discipline.

High school became a pivotal chapter for Rick. He joined the Junior Reserve Officers' Training Corps (JROTC), where his passion for military life found a structured outlet. With his unwavering determination and disciplined approach, he quickly rose through the ranks. His leadership skills were acknowledged, earning him the respect of both peers and superiors. Rick's parents, though initially concerned about their son's fervour for the military, supported his endeavours wholeheartedly.

Upon graduation, Rick faced a crucial decision. He enlisted in the military, eager to make a difference and contribute to a cause larger than himself. The Hartmans bid farewell to their son with a mix of pride and worry. Rick's journey led him to distant lands, where he underwent rigorous training, transforming from an eager recruit to a seasoned soldier.

His platoon became his second family, forged in the crucible of shared hardships and triumphs. They navigated the complexities of military life, building bonds that transcended the boundaries of blood. Rick's leadership shone through, and he became a figurehead of inspiration for his comrades.

However, destiny had a cruel twist in store. During a critical campaign, Rick's platoon faced betrayal from within. A trusted ally proved to be a turncoat, leading to a devastating ambush. Chaos ensued, and the once-unbreakable unit fractured under the weight of betrayal. Rick, at the age of 22, faced the harsh reality of war as he valiantly fought against insurmountable odds.

The memories of that fateful day lingered in Alaric's consciousness. The anguish, the betrayal, and the sacrifice of comrades became an indelible part of him. As he relived these memories, the emotions surged through his being, blending with the essence of his current existence.

In his past life, Alaric embraced a sense of duty, camaraderie, and sacrifice. The echoes of that life now resonated within him, intertwining with the cosmic forces that bound his soul across the multiverse. The revelations of Alaric's dual existence reverberated through the cosmic tapestry and the world around him rippled. His memories, a mosaic of mundane and fantastical, painted a portrait of a young man navigating the complexities of love, loss, and duty in both worlds. The universe's consciousness, a silent observer, had unveiled the layers of Alaric's soul, bridging the gap between the ordinary and the extraordinary. He could see why the abyss suppressed them or suppressed the corrupted's memories for that matter. Such beautiful memories were bound to derail its servants.

As the cosmic energies continued to weave their intricate dance, Alaric found himself at the nexus of two distinct realities. The past, with its joys and sorrows, melded seamlessly with the present, where the weight of cosmic responsibilities bore down upon him. The universe's consciousness, a guide and arbiter, watched as the threads of Alaric's existence intertwined, creating a narrative that transcended the boundaries of mortal understanding.

Alaric stood at the crossroads of destiny. His past, rooted in the simplicity of a suburban town, and his present, entwined with the cosmic forces of the multiverse, converged in a singular moment. The echoes of Crestwood, where the scent of freshly baked cookies lingered in the air, harmonized with the celestial wonders that spanned galaxies.

The revelation of his past life as Alaric Richard Hartman, a young man with a fervour for military life, added new layers to Alaric's understanding of himself. The juxtaposition of a mundane upbringing with the extraordinary trials of a cosmic existence created a story of complexity that mirrored the vastness of the universe itself.

Jonathan and Isabella Hartman, though part of a bygone life, became indelible figures in Alaric's journey. Their love, guidance, and the simple joys of family life resonated across dimensions. The featureless face of the universe's consciousness watched the interplay of mortal experiences and cosmic destinies silently.

As the process continued, Alaric felt a profound sense of purpose. The memories of both lives, each contributing unique hues to the canvas of his soul, guided him towards an understanding of the cosmic intricacies that governed existence. The universe's consciousness, a mentor of sorts in the realms beyond, had offered insights into the cosmic balance, the abyss, and the forces that shaped reality.

With newfound clarity, Alaric embraced the convergence of his past and present. The memories of Rick's camaraderie, the betrayal on the battlefield, and the sacrifices made for a cause greater than oneself coalesced with the cosmic revelations of a principality, a multiverse, and the looming threat of the abyss.

Alaric, now armed with the wisdom of two lifetimes Abielt not very long lifetimes, they were long enough. As the cosmic energies reached a crescendo, Alaric's consciousness prepared to return to the body he once inhabited. The journey, spanning realms and realities, had unveiled the interconnectedness of all things. The universe's consciousness, a silent companion in this odyssey, imparted the final piece of the puzzle-the remaining part of the soul that had not merged.

"The journey continues, Harbinger," echoed the voice, resonating through the cosmic expanse. Alaric, a convergence of mortal and cosmic, embraced the unknown with a resolve forged in the crucible of dual existence. The cosmic dance persisted, and Alaric descended.

However unbeknownst to him the Universe's consciousness directed its attention elsewhere, beyond the galaxies that surrounded them it felt a breach, a breach in reality to be precise, however, there was nothing it could do about it. That was the price of using its authority and directly intervening against the abyss. A short momentary breach in which the abyss would have an entry point into this universe. Such was the law of Causality.

Yet the featureless figure retained its smile. 

"You are unfortunate this time old foe, had you succeeded in corrupting that boy completely then the battle would have been lost, Alas this is my triumph. Do what you will but... I have won, because he most certainly will not lose a second time."

Second one Ladies and gentlemen. Thank you [karthyaveeryarjuna] for the power stones appreciate the support, as a thank you here's another.

Also shout-out to [Knight_Noctis], [Poisonsectelder04_] and [DaoistZpE06Z] for the feedback and the comments guys. They help me understand what I need to improve better in my delivery of a story you lot will most certainly enjoy.

As always take care.

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