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The Abandoned Half-Blood Prince

Reborn! Reincarnated? Whatever! This new world is full of wonder and opportunity. Powers and… Wait. What did that person call me? That name sounds familiar. I read about a tragic side-character with that name— No. Surely not. How did that maid move so quickly? What’s inside that bottle? That doesn’t look like milk. Oh. Oh no.

AidenT · Fantasía
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9 Chs

Chapter 1. I Hate This World.

"Why have you kept me alive?"

Aelius tried to suppress the quaver in his voice. Tried and failed. But that didn't matter. He asked the question. The only question that mattered. The question that burned at the heart of his life, for all of 16 years.

He knew he was young. Especially compared to the man in front of him. The towering figure with ancient eyes. The man radiating nobility. The patriarch of the Aludra clan.

His father.

Aelius knelt on the ground. Pleading for an answer. Needing to know. He looked up to see any sign that he'd been acknowledged. Anything at all.

His warm amber eyes were met with cold yellow eyes. Eyes that held the chill of winter, placed on a face of stone. Only the minute constriction of the slitted pupils showed a sign that he was heard.

A sign of annoyance.

Aelius didn't understand. No one explained to him what he'd done wrong. This was how it has always been. Since the day he was born. Was that it? His birth? But his heritage was not something he could control.

So then why?

He was content with the way things were because he didn't know things could be better. He didn't know that the man before him could be any different.

The stoic figure with an unbending back. Unchanging. Untouchable. Ethereal. Eternal. The Patriarch that everyone admired and feared.

How wrong he was.

At the age of 10, everything changed. The boy entered the palace like a storm. A child no older than himself. Yet that was all. Their age marked the only similarity. The rest was the antithesis of…everything Aelius was. Body, mannerisms, and intelligence. Sebastian was superior.

It wasn't long before he saw his father smile for the first time. That moment left him paralyzed. The sight engraved itself into his mind. He dared to imagine that smile directed at himself, the cold glare transforming into one of care. Then he'd snap back to the reality he was trapped in.

The gilded cage where servants didn't bother wearing false masks and openly displayed their disdain like a badge of honor.

"I don't understand!"

Aelius' clenched fists found a target as they pounded on the hard floor. Boom. Small spiderwebbing fissures spread across the peerless marble. Fragments flew in all directions, a manifestation of his chaotic emotions.

His fists did that. In the corner of Aelius' anger-filled mind, he realized that this feat was something that should be celebrated, and yet the bony arms that shattered stone refused to move.

When the dust settled and silence reigned again, Aelius looked up from his outburst. Anticipating a reaction. Any reaction.

Emotionless eyes stared back.

"Do you want me to be like Sebastian? Will you speak to me then? If I become as bright as him will you look at me with warmth? Will you treat me like a son?"

Aelius' vision grew blurry. Crimson droplets fell on the cracked ground.

Before the silence grew again. A chilling voice spoke.

"You are mistaken."

Aelius' whole body shook. Tightness gripped his heart. Emotions rushed to his head. Fear. Hope.

This small connection gave him courage and he stepped forward. Maybe, just maybe—

Then the words registered.

"W-what?"

Not the most eloquent response to the moment he's been waiting for, but it was better than standing around with his mouth hanging open.

The patriarch opened his mouth, unhurriedly and with the elegance and grace that Aelius could never hope to reach, he spoke

"What you do does not matter. Your life does not matter. There will never come a day when you will be welcomed with open arms. Do you want meaning to your existence? You are a nuisance that sprouted from a whim."

The tone of the patriarch didn't change. He spoke as casually as if he was addressing the weather. And yet there was something there. Something that Aelius recognized from observing the people around him.

Red fury intertwined with black hatred.

Aelius stopped dead in his tracks. Any and all hope dashed. His world crumbled as he came to a realization. No. As he understood what was clear to everyone else.

There was never a point in the first place.

*****

"Urgh!"

The baby furiously thrust a feeble arm forward like a punch. The memory of the scene made him angry! His tiny arms wiggled in annoyance. That stupid novel! Who on earth would be so cruel to their child?!

He wanted to punch that patriarch in his arrogant face. maybe if he was kicked between the legs he'd drop the whole 'I'm so cool and indifferent.' attitude.

A story needed to be dramatic but that was really over the top. Gah! Who writes this stuff? He squirmed and rolled on the dirty carpet.

The book was a cliché. The story had all the elements of a stereotypical romance with a weird twist. A hero, an antagonist, a tragedy, and redemption.

He recalled the memory about the chapter because of the side character in the book. The same side character with a name that coincidentally matched the baby he had become… Reincarnated into?

"Beh!"

The baby scoffed or at least tried to. 'Coincidentally' yeah right. Whatever genre that popped up like weeds in the last few years, he was now in it. Except he wasn't the protagonist, antagonist, or the one with the redemption story. Nope, he was the tragedy.

'I promise you Aelius, I'll get one hit in if I meet that stuck-up piece of—'

The baby stopped himself, he was getting riled up and any little emotion immediately induced tears. Baby-logic.

How did he end up in that stupid book!?

The only reason he picked up the book in the first place and even managed to finish it was to impress a girl. A girl that he saw sitting at the library was completely engrossed in it.

He caught a glimpse of the title, 'The abandoned half-blood prince.' Which sounded interesting. Maybe a revenge story, full of action with an overpowered hero! Or so he hoped.

He was a fool.

He constructed a full fantasy in his head. Step one, read the book. Step two, strike up a conversation with the girl about the book. They'd get to know each other. After a few months he would ask her out, she'd say yes, they'd spend months dating, move in together, wedding, kids, dying old together…

Well as shower fantasies go, this was a standard B grade.

Unfortunately, or as expected… He finished the book and the girl never showed up again.

Such was life.

Maybe he dodged a bullet if she liked that kind of story. What a psycho. There were so many rage-inducing moments! Even while lying in bed there were moments when his heart sped up in anger at that father figure.

At least he got through with reading it.

Now he could move on… WRONG.

His wriggling finally achieved some results. His tiny body flipped over, smooching his face into the carpet.

Aelius' head was a little too heavy at this stage of development to turn to the side. which meant he was stuck. That's a problem.

Was it getting a little hard to breathe?

Uh oh.

Muffled whimpers escaped his mouth.

"Hmm?"

A voice caught on to the commotion.

"Hmm~ Is something the matter? Oh my~ Do you need a hand, young prince"?

The voice sounded amused and utterly unhurried.

'No, I'm fine. I'm just slowly suffocating. Please, carry on with your drinking.'

…Is what he wanted to say. Instead, what came out was less witty.

"Mhmmnnn!"

"Yes. Yes."

Suddenly, Aelius felt his body being lifted by the collar. The floor quickly receded, and his blurry vision met the red eyes of the servant.

Aelius threw a fist. The tiny fist connected with the sadistic woman's cheek. There was a small pause. He blinked and tried to smile innocently.

She grinned viciously.

"Such a naughty boy."

'Uh oh.'

With a flick of her wrist, Aelius saw the world spin and then he was flying towards the ceiling.

"Waaaaahhhh!!"

What the hell was she doing?! Crazy! Psycho! His luck with women was truly the worse!

He reached the apex and then quickly began to descend.

The floor quickly approached; he couldn't even twist to land on his legs. Broken legs were better than a cracked melon.

"WAA—"

His momentum was halted just inches from the ground.

"Oh quiet. You were so fearless a moment ago."

Aelius looked up at the servant with blurry eyes. She's crazy. He needed to make a list of people to punch in this world and this maid was quickly approaching the top.

Before he could voice his displeasure the world distorted, and he found himself in the crib.

The servant peered at him with a smirk. Daring him to do something else. Almost hoping for it. She was bored and he was her only source of entertainment.

Growl

The tiny sound startled Aelius. When he realized it was his stomach, the wave of embarrassment and hunger overwhelmed his baby-sized emotional capacity.

Don't cry. Don't cry. Do. Not—

"Wah!"

Damn it.

"Oh my. It has been a while since you were fed. Give me a moment, I'll go find something to eat."

She clapped her hands together forcing Aelius to blink. The maid flashed away with a gust of wind.

Fast. Really fast. It wasn't that his baby eyes couldn't follow. No this was something else.

The sound of footsteps returned followed by another smaller noise.

"Squee! Squee!"

An animal. Something small. It sounded like—

Crack.

"Coming darling~ food will be ready in a moment."

Aelius felt sick. This wasn't the first time he was fed.

The maid appeared with a baby bottle. With pink liquid inside.

"A special diluted meal for our precious Half-blood prince."

The bottle of… definitely not blood… Nope, absolutely not. It was cherry or some weird, transmigrated baby food. It was not blood. No. No!

The maid shoved the bottle in his mouth.

Aelius wanted to throw up, but the liquid tasted like nectar. His whole body felt energized.

Right. The book was about a supernatural clan. A clan full of vampires with powerful abilities. Maybe this wasn't too bad.

He glanced to the side and saw the headless dead mouse.

'I hate this world.'