The present and the past

"Destiny, fate, luck, chance, happy endings, and being a hero - these were the things I believed in as a child. Reading books, hearing stories, and learning legends, they all had one common factor: the hero. The guy who gets cool powers, money, fame, and even the princess. I too had an ambition to be a hero. I could have been the greatest there was, but the only person I admired - no, revered - decided one day to get up from his grave and rip my heart out.

I did not belong in this world, nor did I ever want to come here. Now that I look back, I realize everything I did was just a huge lie I told myself. But it doesn't matter anymore. The gray clouds are finally moving away. Even the tiny rays of light piercing the clouds look beautiful moments before you die... I wish to meet my brother again someday, somewhere, somehow. I wish to tell him my story - how I died at the hands of the so-called greatest hero. My name is Perseus, and this should have been my story." 

-

In the sprawling kingdom of Orchomenus, there existed a city unlike any other - a city so new, it was still finding its place in the world. It had only been founded a mere eighty or ninety years ago, yet it had already become a bustling trading hub, attracting merchants from far and wide. This city was Valence, located on the edge of the kingdom, in the region known as 'Northrone'.

As the rain poured down on the cobbled streets, a youth with a hood drawn over his head made his way towards a weather-beaten bar. The establishment looked like it had been frozen in time, a relic of a bygone era. Yet, it was still frequented by those seeking a moment of respite from the world outside.

The youth hesitated for a moment before entering, taking a quick glance around to ensure he wasn't being followed. He moved towards a corner table where an old man sat, dressed in a white robe and nursing a drink. The youth cleared his throat, hoping to get the man's attention. "It's quite troublesome looking for you, Mr. Merlinus, or should I address you as Mr. Merlin?" the youth said, his voice barely above a whisper. The old man took a long look at the youth, sizing him up before returning to his drink. After a moment of silence, he finally spoke. "That name is history now, kid. You should go home. I don't think they serve milk here," the old man said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Undeterred, the youth persisted, "You can call me Percy, Percy Valence." The mention of his name caught the attention of the old man, Merlin, who looked up from his drink and studied Percy closely, taking in his appearance. He couldn't help but think that Percy was just another fool seeking to profit from the Valence name. "Kid, go home. This isn't your playground," he grumbled, eager to resume his drinking session.

The city of Valence had been founded by the Valence family's mentor, but misfortune befell them after his passing. The family had crumbled over time, consumed by greed, jealousy, lust, and hatred among brothers. Percy was the sole heir left, with nothing but his family name to his name. Everything else had been sold, ripped off, or looted long ago. Despite being born into privilege, Percy worked as a watchmaker in the city to make ends meet. He took pride in his work, and the Valence Watch company had become famous for delivering quality and luxury to the city's wealthy. "Mr. Merlin, there's nothing I can do about it. You're the only one alive who can tell me about him," Percy said, pleading with the old mage. Merlin raised an eyebrow. "If you know my name, then you must be aware that I'm a mage," he said.

Percy nodded. "Then you should also know that mages have a lot of concessions when it comes to the law," Merlin warned, his anger rising. "Don't make me 'electrocute' you or 'burn' you alive here! I'm trying to enjoy a drink, you know?"

Percy sat down across from the old man, studying him as he sipped his drink. The man had an impressive tolerance for alcohol, something that amused Percy. "He could have won a gold medal for drinking if we were back on Earth," Percy thought to himself.

Percy had been in this strange world for over a year now, and the memories of his old life had faded away. All he remembered was waking up with a sharp pain in his chest that morning, and the next thing he knew, he was in a world he didn't recognize. At first, he was completely lost, with no idea where he was or how he got there. As time passed, he started to piece together his memories of this world, but they were different from the life he had known before. It was as if someone had taken his old life and twisted it into a cruel joke, leaving him stranded in a new reality that he could barely comprehend.

He had been searching for Merlin, hoping that the mage could help him find a way back to his world. He had heard from his new father about a letter left behind by the mentor of the Valence family, the greatest man in this world, according to Percy's new family. Percy found the man's achievements "interesting," to say the least.

But more appealing to him were the letters that had been handed down through Percy's family for generations. The letter had been passed down through generations of Percy's family, a mystery that remained unsolved despite countless attempts to decrypt its contents. No expert could decipher the language in which it was written, and yet the last few lines were clear to all who read them: "pass the letter to the descendant that can read the letter." For centuries, the letter had been passed down alongside the family's wealth and resources, until all that remained were the letters and the family name itself.

When Percy finally opened the letter, he felt a chill run down his spine. "I know centuries have passed since my passing," the letter began. "It is fortunate that another person just like me has finally arrived after such a long time. Unfortunately, the wealth and fortune I have amassed over the years could not make it to you, so I apologize that I might not be able to make your journey in the near future a smooth sail. The journey for the answer you are now seeking. Yes, there is a way to go back. Not an easy one, and the answer lies within my story. Maybe someone from my time is alive?"

Determined to unravel the mystery and find a way back to his own time, Percy spent countless sleepless nights poring over books in the public library. And then, a breakthrough: a lead to a little boy his ancestor had taken in during his travels across the world. The boy's name was Merlinus.

"Clang!" Merlin smacked the glass he was holding, bringing Percy back from his deep thoughts.

"You have until I finish this drink. But let me advise you first, I will never work for anyone from your family just because your ancestor and I were acquaintances. You are not him," said Merlin.

"If you knew him, you might recognize this," Percy said as he placed a copy of the letters on the table.

"Hmph, and here I thought you were here for something you really needed," said Merlin, cutting off Percy before he could continue. "No, I cannot read what's written in the letter. Every few years, someone comes around waving that thing in front of my face. Leave!"

Percy raised a brow, "At least listen to people before you start blowing off steam, sir. I know what's written there, and that is the reason I am here."

"SLAM!" went the glass, piercing the table. "Come with me," Merlin said as he threw some money on the table and waved at the bartender, rushing to the exit.

Merlin guided Percy along the entire perimeter of the bar, finally reaching the rear exit. He placed his palm on the door and glanced at Percy. "Have you ever experienced real magic?" he asked. A golden glow briefly covered the edges of the door before fading away, and suddenly the door opened to reveal a breathtaking view. Instead of a plain entrance, they now stood at the edge of a cliff with waves crashing against the shore below and a refreshing breeze passing by, tickling Percy's nose. He was speechless, in awe of the incredible transformation.

Merlin then turned and led Percy down a narrow path that wound its way down the cliff face. The path was steep and rocky, but Merlin seemed to move with ease as he navigated the treacherous terrain. Finally, they reached a hut in the middle of nowhere.

Merlin casually pushed the door to the hut, inviting Percy inside. A set of chairs flew in from a corner and arranged themselves for the guest's. Taking a seat, Merlin hinted towards Percy to do the same.

"Speak," said Merlin, folding his hands and looking straight into Percy's eyes.

Arranging his thoughts, Percy began explaining, "A few months ago, I finally got to see the letters left behind by the ancestor of our family or the person who taught you magic. It was by chance or by luck, but I can read them. For the time being, I cannot disclose how or why I can read them, but the message is simple."

Merlin raised his hand, stopping Percy mid-sentence. "I know what the letters say. Read this one for me," summoning a piece of paper out of thin air, he passed it to Percy.

"Now that you have reached Merlin, I hope you find few of the answers you seek from him," Percy read out loud.

"Very well," Merlin responded with a nod, and the piece of paper in Percy's hands disappeared as if it never existed.

"I do not have the answers to the questions you seek. All I have is this," said Merlin, summoning a thick stack of pages bundled together and wrapped in a leather cover, hovering directly in front of Percy. "This is a diary written by my teacher in his few remaining days. It contains each and every one of his days since the very first day of his life, but only you can read it. You can hold on to it for as long as you like, but the diary cannot leave this house. If it does, a spell will be triggered, reducing all that's written inside to ashes," Merlin warned.

With a thankful expression, Percy nodded and accepted the diary.

As Percy opened the diary, he noticed a faded note on the first page. It was a message from the writer of the diary, a personal touch that caught his attention. The note read:

"Dear Seeker of Truth,

I thought it would be more engaging to share my story like a tale, rather than a mere collection of daily logs from my life. Each page unfolds a chapter of my existence, and each word carries the weight of my experiences. I hope you find solace and wisdom within these pages, for you, the one reading, are the one chosen to decipher the legacy I've left behind.

May my story guide you on your path, just as it once guided me on mine.

Yours sincerely, Cyrillus."