A boy longing for revenge with blood painted hands. He is a cold blooded psychopath dressed in the glamorous clothes of a prince. In a planned attack during his 7th birthday, Prince Nicolas Gregory lost three important things, his friend Alisa, his innocence, and his memory of his merciless massacre of the culprits with a mysterious ability to conjure a sword. Attempting to fight his emptiness, he tries to live normally as a prince and fulfill his duties regardless of what his heart's cry. But there are things that one tainted with blood could not escape. With reminders popping out one after another and the continuous threat to his life, what will he do if his lost memory resurfaces. Will he once again wield the blades of revenge? Will he open his heart for the future? Or will he fall into deeper despair and follow the path of blood?
If there's someplace better in Gregoria than Algernon, it would be their library. Glamorously housing thousands of books accumulated ever since the establishment of the Castle. Stretching from the ground up to the glass ceiling providing a natural flow of light, everything is filled with books, even the stairs that reach different levels.
Folklore, legends, novels, he gathered everything that caught his attention as long as he feels that its somewhat close to what he was looking for, although he himself is unsure what the thing he wants to know. In addition to this, the sheer volume of the books he had gathered is not for the faint of heart, but that's not his problem, he's more than okay to swim with the books for the whole day, getting distracted by the plots and unnecessary information is what hinders his progress.
Creating only a mess and finding no answers, Nicolas only noticed that he's too far gone when the sky above started to turn grey, dampening the entry of light. "Most of this are about killing gods, saving the world, absolute cliches. It's a shame that I can't find anything about restoring lost memories but this is still a great find," he picked out one of the books, "You however will be moving to my personal collection, reincarnation, interesting."
He gave up, putting his arms to the table, leaned, and rested his head over them, his eyes drifting to the part of the library he only visited once and never again. "Romantic books, just remembering the thing we read from them before makes my spine shiver. They're still here but you…," he sighed, lifting his head back up, "Never mind."
Rolling up his sleeve and freeing his collar, continuing his endeavor. Running his finger through the shelves, he can't help but laugh. Most of the shelves are dusty, sparkling if you'd day, but this particular part of the library seems to have been neglected, collecting dust for maybe a decade. All the books except for one.
He opened it to a random page and read it. He could only question himself what he was doing as his face was painted red, "I see, the maids must have been reading this one," after a little more skimming through the book, he quickly closed the door and slammed it back to its rightful place, as if it will burn him if he hadn't let it go. "Steamy… I mean, a waste of time."
Turning his attention to the other shelves, one in particular caught his attention for an entirely different reason. Half-filled but covered in a century worth of dust. To sooth his curiosity, he opened one of them, this time dyed by confusion. Aside from its distinct black cover, it had nothing but a pentagram caged by a circle in red ink on the first page. "Are these cursed?" he tried another, then another two, until he had seen everything. No luck finding out what they are.
"Come to think of it, the other shelves has one or two of them, probably misplaced," he walked around, taking note of each on, and after a whim, he decided to gather them all, cleaning the shelf at the same time.
Up and down the stairs he go, climbed up the ladders to reach the ones at the top, reading them one by one to make sure nothing from the presumed black pages hides something interesting. The sky already pitch black by now and the moss lamps are the only thing illuminating the place. Thunder and lightning made their existence known as rain started to pour, dripping vigorously to the glass skylight, it made the library cold but it only delighted Nicolas's heart as he placed the last book he could find on the shelf, leaving one single space to be filled.
"One more and something magical might happen," he paused his arms crossed in front of him before laughing, "As if there's something like that, I'm already too old for that kind of thing. The last one must have been the book father is carrying earlier, there is nothing I can do with that," he sighed, turning around, giving up his conquest. "Might as well enjoy the rain outside—"
Starting to carry the other books he read to their shelves, he was halted by a creaking sound. It was gentle at first, a soft whisper that's gradually raising its volume each passing minute into a scream. Nicolas dropped the books back to the table as he frantically searched for the source, up and down the stairs, to the ladder, and the glass skylight. There's nothing out of the ordinary until he went back in front of the table.
As the lightning illuminated the room, it finally dawned to him the old and decaying wood of the black book's shelf. The creaking is directly yelling in his ears as he hastily tried to remove the books, but with an ear ripping thunder cried, a loud thud told him he's too late, and the shelf sunk in, losing the first bottom shelf, dislodging half of the books he placed to the floor.
"Is it that old?" he tried to laugh it off, his arms frozen in the air, trying to reach for the books he failed to catch.
With his spirit in rock bottom, the books started to glow a familiar light, painting his face and the surroundings with the shade of blue. Before he could even comprehend what is happening, they floated into the air, arranging themselves in front of him before flipping their pages open.
"It's time," a phrase appeared on every page before the shelf that he thought is broken, opened into a dark passage he had never seen before. "Now, bearer of my blood"
Still frozen in disbelief, the awe started to thaw his joints. The worries he had been harboring just a moment ago evaporated in this exciting turn of events. With a tickle in his bones, finally, the thing he had only read on the thin sheets of paper had come to life. Sparkle filled his eyes, a warm splendor in his heart that he thought he'd never feel again, he can't even make out the words for what he is feeling but he knows it was genuine.
The prince did not question the situation and followed the path. His first step echoed through the walls before the bookshelf on his back reverted to a normal display on the library walls. It left him in the dark, but he's too far in cloud nine to feel distressed, instead, he inched through the passage, feeling the walls as he navigated the place.
There are some occasions of something squeaking and lurking lose to his feet but he paid it no attention, as various ideas flowed into his brain on what awaits for him. Will it be a monster or a mysterious sword, the thought kept him occupied until he stumbled on an elevated floor. Placing his hands on top of it to try and recognize, he felt its rough surface stretching to another elevation, "Stairs?"
It did not take long for his eyes to catch a small glimmer from above as he ascended, occasionally coughing as dust and cobwebs tried to stop his advance. Arriving in front of a dead end, he immediately scanned the wall, knowing that there is no way that is the only thing the place could offer. With the help of the light seeping from the corners, he located a dusty knob. He grinned as he turned it and pushed it open.