Breakfast

With each step, the polished marble floors reverberated beneath Alaric's feet, while the elaborate tapestries on the walls seemed to murmur stories of bygone eras. The manor's minimalist yet luxurious design exuded a sense of balance, reflecting the refined taste of the Astreaus family. As Alaric navigated through the corridors, he couldn't shake the sensation that each stride uncovered another layer of the mystery surrounding his existence.

The portraits lining the hallway felt like glimpses into the past. Faces from the duchy's history gazed down at Alaric, their eyes seemingly tracking his every step. Some of these figures were recognizable, their stories deeply embedded in the lore he had learned from the book. The vivid descriptions he remembered depicted these ancestors as legendary figures, leaving Alaric to ponder whether reality matched the tales.

His mind, however, was drawn back to the central mystery – the fate of the original Alaric. The book provided no clues about transmigration or its consequences. Was the previous Alaric still living his life somewhere, oblivious to the switch? Or was he now inhabiting a different body, living a life not meant for him?

The concept of Cosmic Deities hovered like a shroud of uncertainty. Were there beings of immense power shaping the fates of mortals in this world? It was a question that persisted, seeking answers that always felt just beyond grasp.

In the midst of this contemplation, a sudden collision with a maid brought Alaric back to the present. Startled, the maid braced herself for a reprimand. Yet, to her surprise, Alaric apologized with unexpected humility. His demeanour, not characteristic of the previous Alaric, left the maid flustered. Now keenly aware of the eyes on him, Alaric continued on his way, realizing the distinctions between himself and the character he appeared to have taken over.

Apologizing, the maid recovered and opened the door for him. The entrance to the dining area marked the culmination of his journey through the manor's corridors. The tantalizing aroma of a well-prepared breakfast teased his senses, heightening the anticipation of what lay beyond the door. Beyond the threshold, the dining hall unfolded—a room that echoed with both the grandeur and warmth befitting a noble household.

As he entered, Alaric was met with the gaze of his father, Duke Astreaus, seated at the head of the long dining table. The lord of the eastern duchy, Margrave of Astreavia, the Titan of Dawn, resembled Alaric but with the mature handsomeness that came with age. Despite the years, the duke retained a formidable presence, his strength evident even in his appearance.

Duke Astreaus, a man feared by enemies as "The Eastern Terror of Astreavia," had a reputation that transcended the walls of the mansion. His piercing gaze held a wisdom that only years of experience could impart. The room itself seemed to acknowledge his presence, basking in the aura of a man who had weathered countless storms.

The Duke's attire, though noble and regal, bore subtle marks of a warrior. His hands, powerful and calloused, spoke of life not just as a ruler but as a formidable combatant. The silver streaks in his hair hinted at the passage of time, but in his grey eyes retained a spark that could only be described as indomitable.

Alaric approached the table, feeling a mix of awe and trepidation. The clash between the Alaric of the book and the Alaric now, facing the formidable lord, emphasized the reality of his new existence. 

As Alaric took his place at the dining table, his father's penetrating gaze followed his every move. The maid, now identified as Alaric's personal attendant, stood attentively behind his chair. A quick consultation of his memories revealed her name as Elara.

A hint of jest crossed Duke Astreaus' eyes as he addressed his son, "Having trouble waking up, my boy?" The question held a playful undertone, a rare moment of lightness in the typically solemn atmosphere of the mansion.

Alaric responded with a small, wry smile, "It seems I've been blessed with a good night's sleep, Father. I assure you, I'll be more prompt in the future."

The Duke chuckled, a hearty sound that resonated within the dining hall. "No harm done, my son. We all have those moments. Speaking of waking up, have you considered the timing of your awakening? It's scheduled for this afternoon, just after lunch."

The mention of his awakening brought a surge of mixed emotions within Alaric. The memories of Alaric Astreaus, his predecessor, painted a picture of the significance of this event. Awakening marked the emergence of magical abilities, a pivotal moment in the life of any individual in this magical world.

"I remember," Alaric replied, his gaze momentarily distant as he delved into the memories of the book. "It's quite a ceremony, isn't it?"

Duke Astreaus nodded, acknowledging the weight of the occasion. "Indeed. Representatives from the Country's Magic Association will be joining us. They'll oversee your awakening, and the data they collect will be sent to the association for their records."

The notion of the magic association's involvement added a layer of formality to the process. Awakening was not merely a personal event; it had broader implications for the magic community. Alaric noted the irony that, despite his apparent amnesia, he possessed a clear understanding of the magical protocols of this world.

"There's no specific criterion for awakening, everyone can awaken, however ," the Duke continued, providing a brief explanation. "It's a unique experience for each individual. Some talents may be more pronounced than others, but everyone has the potential to awaken."

The conversation delved into the intricacies of magic and the awakening process, but amidst the exchange, Alaric couldn't shake the nagging feeling that there was something more to his sudden presence in this world. As his father spoke of the upcoming ceremony, Alaric wondered if the answers to his questions lay within the magical tapestry that connected the realms of fiction and reality.

The ambience in the dining hall shifted as the rest of the Astreaus family members joined the table. The first to arrive was the duchess. Duchess Eleanor Astreaus, a woman of regal poise with her deep blue eyes and flowing brown hair took her place beside Duke Astreaus. Her features exuded a timeless beauty that spoke of her role not just as a noblewoman but as the matriarch of Eastern Duchy. Her entrance commanded attention, and her gaze held a subtle air of authority that bespoke her role in the noble hierarchy.

Alaric exchanged polite but somewhat reserved greetings with his stepmother. There was a formality that hung in the air. 

Elena Astreaus, the eldest daughter, shared her mother's features with a touch of her father's sharpness. She was the next to arrive. Her presence exuded a sense of sophistication and poise, her movements measured and deliberate. Her eyes, like her mother's, held a deep shade of blue, and her chestnut hair was neatly arranged in a manner that reflected the refined taste expected of noble daughters.

Adelaide Astreaus, the youngest daughter, possessed an ethereal beauty that seemed to echo the landscapes adorning the Duke's abode. Her brown locks framed a face touched by a natural radiance, and her blue eyes sparkled with a genuine curiosity untarnished by the complexities of noble life. Her innocence brought a refreshing contrast to the subtle tensions that often lingered in the Astreaus household.

Edmund Astreaus, the eldest son, carried an air of youthful exuberance. His features bore a resemblance to both his father and younger brother but not nearly as much as they did with his mother, a blend of noble refinement and potential strength. While still in the early years of following his awakening, Edmund's gaze held the promise of a legacy yet to unfold. Alaric knew his brother was strong, he had been graded an S-tier by the Magic Society.

Alaric observed the family interactions keenly, noticing the subtle dynamics at play. His siblings, while cordial, carried themselves with a certain reserve. It was a dance of manners, each movement calculated and measured, a reflection of the expectations placed upon noble heirs.

The youngest sister, however, seemed exempt from such restraint. Her eyes sparkled with a genuine curiosity as she looked at Alaric. Her innocence offered a refreshing contrast to the underlying tension that lingered in the room. Alaric found himself responding with a warmer greeting, a small but genuine smile directed at his youngest sibling.

The family discussions resumed, with Duke Astreaus providing a brief overview of the day's plans. There were matters to attend to within the duchy, and the upcoming awakening ceremony added an extra layer of significance to the day's events.

As the meal progressed, Alaric engaged in the exchanges, listening to the subtle nuances of conversation that hinted at the family's dynamics.

The conversation ebbed and flowed, carrying with it the weight of tradition and obligation. Alaric, still navigating the unfamiliar terrain of his new existence, absorbed the nuances of noble etiquette. The tapestry of familial ties and noble politics unfolded before him, and with each passing moment, he found himself entwined in a world that seemed both familiar and foreign.

The meal progressed, setting the stage for the events that would unfold in the hours to come. The awakening ceremony loomed on the horizon, a pivotal moment that would not only shape Alaric's destiny but also unravel the mysteries that bound him to the legacy of House Astreaus.