Prologue

Irene Kim



What's the closest thing to magic? Some people say it's in Science, Music, Arts... It depends who you ask. But if you ask me? I'd say without any moment's hesitation that it's definitely words.

I'm not a religious person but I always tend to recall going to a mandatory mass on a Sunday (as my parents are Catholic) and hearing the homily mention that in the Creation, first there was The Word and from there manifested any physical thing we've become accustomed to. Isn't that just powerful? Why do you think parents anxiously await their children's first word? Or why people who are well-read are seemingly wiser than most?

It's because words are made to express, evoke, commemorate, inform, signify, direct and traverse. How can we walk in someone else's shoes? Read a novel(you'll emphasize with the protagonist). Pick someone's mind? Converse. Gain knowledge? Take an encyclopedia or maybe read an article from a quick google search. Be in a different world altogether? Hah, read a fantasy or sci-fi novel! Isn't it like transmigration, teleportation, reincarnation, time-travel, and/or clairvoyance? And that's just things I can pull out atop of my head! Words are definitely heaven-defying entities.

Since young, I've always had a somewhat affinity with words. I'm a very observant, sentimental, yet also a logical person. I immerse myself and not at all (if that makes sense?).. Like an active yet also a bit passive on-looker to humanity's ways to be able to absorb its essence in every bit of my meticulously chosen words which are meant to evoke an authentic experience. If you're still in the dark, I am definitely a writer. A creative one to be exact.

Right now, I'm swimming in dough (money hehe) because I just got paid from one of my published novels this year. I'm planning to go on a hiatus for a while since my mind's brain cells need some rest.

Speaking of such, you might be thinking that I, Irene Kim—a full-blooded, twenty three year old Korean lady, an accomplished writer— who's currently here in New York might be having good night's rests for these past few weeks of no work load, huh?

Hahahahahahahhaha....... You can not be more WRONG.

Despite my seemingly honorable status as your resident best-selling author, I am actually a reading trash. As much as I love to write, I also love reading! (Maybe I love reading even more....or not... It's a hard choice since they are two sides of the same coin...) And not just your regular-slash-casual reader—oh no. I'm that maniac who reads an entire series without bathing or going out for a week until it's done. (Percy Jackson series by Rick Riordan, I'm lookin' at ya) Bookmarks? What's that? Haven't heard of it in my life.

Right now it's already 2 AM. I am in my apartment, my hand hung at an opened bag of Cheetos as I stared blankly at the ceiling. This is always how it feels after reading a good book.

Mi corazon es hueco. 속이 빈 마음. Pusong nawalan. Un coeur creux. A hollowed heart.

You see, I like doing these tricks in my mind so that I'm always sharp as a linguist. Mind gaming myself to hone that brain of mine, as to not fall short in the thought department. (They say if you learn a different language, your memory improves. Is that true y'all?)

As a writer, words and a large range of vocabulary are our ammunition. Languages are our guns/vessel. The more we understand, all the more our wisdom we can fill in our future works.

Speaking of which, after three straight days, I already finished reading a book. It's called "Divine Doctor: The daughter of the first wife" by Mao Shi Liu. I got the raw (written in Mandarin Chinese characters) through a trusted app I bought it in. Recently, I've been on a phase of reading about reincarnation, revenge, and romance novels.. Mostly about imperial families and the ancient world that mixes in some modern and fantasy spices here and there. To be more specific, I've been reading about historical, fantasy novels nowadays. (Last time it was classical novels, then horror/gore.. and the vicious cycle goes on..)

As I am feeling empty as a shell, I finally popped the last cheeto in my mouth. I checked the clock and it's already 3:27 AM. I got up. I need a quick fix.. You might be thinking, "That's so late!" Well, let me tell you, most of my works are written in midnight while I struggle to rid my fingers of cheese from dirtying my hard-working keyboard.

This inhumane work hours, only us contractual creatives understand. Life as a best-selling author isn't as glamorous as most people think. The only good thing about this is that I found a place that paces well with my sporadic (debatably toxic) lifestyle, NEW F*CKING YORK! The city that never sleeps for the sleep-deprived writer/reader.

**

Later on, entonces, (hahahha redundant linguist is back) I found myself in this roddy "dark alley" book store. It's riggidy, yes, but it's not without its charm.

Sure, dilapidated old books might be off-putting for most but I got most of my precious classical collections here. This place is a treasure trove of hidden gems! Signed books from the 19th century (or even older) writers and icons that can only be the last of their kind. Where else in the world can I get those?

Also, having it as a private matter makes it all the more irresistible to me. Like Mitch Albom once wrote in his infamous novel 'The First Phone call from Heaven', he said "Heaven is often held close for fear of losing it, like a butterfly cupped in a child's hands."

That's exactly how I feel. I was fist bumping to myself mid-air as I was standing in-between bookshelves, when I seem to glance upon a glimmering flash of luminescence.

My head whipped into that direction. Was it just my imagination? I instantaneously walked that way and found an interestingly browned book. Despite it's look, the blurb on the back is really engaging. I excitedly took it out to the old man managing the bookstore. A new world to immerse in! Well, right after I get some sleep.. (I finally feel drowsy)

**

After a good cup of my personally brewed tea, I casually browsed the book I got. Based on its thickness, I estimate around two to four days.. Depending on how good it really is. Good thing I have different flavors of cup noodles and water that'll last me a month.

Right after opening it, everything else was in a haze. I was fully immersed in the world of the narrative and I absolutely can't believe just how beautifully written this is! Also the author's name's SaGaNa (yes the capitalization is like that..) which is obviously a pseudonym... although I do know the word "sagana" on it's own means bountiful in Filipino. (Perks of being a wide-read maniac, I'm tellin' ya)

Anyway I'm glad to know it's right up my current phase. Historical fantasy! The plot talks about Bryce Gregory Veritas Lievsky's political battle and romance story towards a transmigrated lady called Ava Mittletorie (used to be a talented war hero in her past life). It's a good read! Especially the part where in the protagonist and antagonist had a secret friendship as children while both of them are oblivious to their identities. It's heart-wenching when they reached the part where they discovered both of them are rivals. And to be honest what takes the cake for me is the main antagonist, Magnus Baudin Veritas Courtenay, the one and only purple-eyed, crimson haired duke of the kingdom of Windsor.

An excerpt that gave me wordgasms:

"Magnus stood there with an unwavering stance. The darkness slowly crept in, starting from his emptied hand.. little by little spreading unto his psyche. There's something eerily comforting with the consuming black that was enveloping his entire being. For others, darkness is a cold, unforgiving void.. But or someone who have never had a glimpse of light, a familiar sensation is but a friend."

Irene Kim

The more I delve into the narrative's universe, the more tragic the antagonist life's become. I'm utterly frustrated to how much I admire the one who've written this complex masterpiece. (Lol, just look at my way of speech... Because the story's set on old england's caste feudal system, I adapted to their language like the maniac that I am..)

The way she fleshed out the characters to be multi-faceted and yet charismatic/likable in every sense of the word is beyond me. The world building, wise use of symbolism to aid on the atmosphere, and the open-ended bittersweet ending were such a delight! Also, I learned new english and foreign vocabulary words piling upto some profound adages to boot. Not a single moment of my time was wasted!

Currently, I have been staring blankly at the ceiling of my bedroom,  my arms spread widely whilst having a finished book in hand..At a lost for words (which rarely happens by the way)..

Magnus.. Ugh! I can't stop thinking about him.

Crimson red hair, purple gem-like orbs for eyes.. To end up like that.. I can't put my finger on it but after thinking of everything he's been through, I suddenly felt moist building up on the sides of my eyes.

Imagine growing up in an inhospitable household, being caged in a dark room all your life, abused and tortued by his father and.. Even sexually harassed by a maid.. Having your first friend be revealed as your rival after all... The betrayal that turned him into a Paragon Villain.

I say Paragon because in my opinion, although this troupe is often used for protagonists, as an antagonist he seems to be a paramount version. Like Batman's Dark Night Joker.. (Or maybe even better?)

In the end, it was hinted that he died due to Ava (Female lead, the heroine) and Bryce's grand scheme.

Although I know it's necessary for a story to have an antagonist, I have this ominous feeling that the writer intended a life worse than death for Magnus. I'll give it to him (or her), he writes well but just how are the odds? They say "every dog has its day" but damn, not a single moment was the antagonist in a good position! And when he was released from dungeon (as he killed his sadistic father who tortured him all his life), he already lost his sanity so even if his plans are dubiously ferocious and meticulously crafted (for it all mostly succeeded if it weren't for Ava), can it be considered a win when he's already twisted harder than any pretzel?

Okay, you might be thinking that almost all I ever think about is the antagonist(villain).. I mean, you're not wrong. I do love his tragic character but don't think I don't admire the inner-workings of the protagonists' minds (both the male and female leads). They're interesting characters, too. The man's brave, tactical, and powerful whilst the female lead is a refreshing valiant heroine (I think she's more fit to be the Emperor if it weren't for her soft-spot for the male lead.)... If I was any normal reader, I'd be head-over-heels for the main characters as well.. But as you already know, I'm not (READING MANIAC, CHECK CHAPTER 1), and there's something captivating about Magnus that I can't just shake off..

I feel like his story is incomplete and I wanted to know his back story (since he's not the focal point of the book, his scenes were limited.). His parents' actions are very suspicious, too. That's your kid! Seeing how well-written this book is, I'd like to believe that the author wouldn't make a one-dimensional pure-evil kind of character.

I sincerely feel like this book is serial.. Or at least I hope it is.. Although the conclusion was made for the main characters, Magnus' full story is yet to come to light. Missing out on expounding on such a well-written character would definitely be so much of a loss!

While having these thoughts, my eyelids started to feel heavier. I took a look at a clock by my beadstand and realized that it's been forty-eight hours that I've been awake. Hmm, I'm human after all despite my reading madness.. Pulling me back in reality, my droopy eyes and tired body finally gave up on me as I drifted into slumber.

**

I awoke at a feeling of warmth. That's odd, I never draw open the curtains in my room (I'm not a morning person.. As you may already have guessed). Despite this, I took my coarse blanket and placed it over my head. Nope, not yet! I want to sleep some more. Also, I don't work the run-of-the-mill 8-6 types of jobs anyway... Owing to the fact I have enough money to last me for a decade (don't misunderstand, I'm not that rich but I don't really live luxuriously.. I was told by my parents that I live like a slightly-better-off beggar. Who cares? I don't need more expensive stuff anyway..  Plus my biggest accomplishment thus far had always been saving up enough money to give my parents the best retirement after publishing my legendary fifth book. They deserve it.. But me? Hah, I don't mind. I'm a frugal girl and I enjoy thrift-shopping & makeshift living anyway.)

Remembering just how I managed to evade a boring ass way of living (no hate for those who truly enjoy their 8-hour jobs and waking up early in the morning. Different things work for different people, I have respect for all of ya hustlers! Keep at it), I unintentionally smiled to myself. Everyone has a different version of success and... Well, this is mine. Doing what I love.. Giving my parents a life of luxury... Working at my own pace.. Come to think of it, I'm livin' the dream!

Just as I was about to sleep again, I heard an obnoxious loud banging of the door, pulling me out of my reverie. I frowned and covered my ears. What the hell is going on? I don't remember inviting anyone in the sanctity of my home!

That's when it dawned to me... Yeah, I didn't have visitors. I opened my eyes hastily as I flung the coarse browned blanket off to the wooden rickety floor. As surprised as I already am, I was more perplexed by my surroundings. Where the hell am I?

"Erin get your ass up here this very instance! Such an impudent child leeching off our hardwork.. I should've just crushed you after that harlot Esther gave birth to you." Villainously said by a middle-aged woman's voice.

A chill ran down my spine. What the actual f*ck is going on? I slapped myself (pretty hardly might I add) whilst the door next to me flung open revealing a fat old woman who's face seemed like it was attacked by wood-peckers due to acne assaults. Her unkept hair ressembled that of a dry, yellow-ish broom. Her facial features were harsh and overbearingly put together. Her countenance as a whole makes me want to vommit blood right there and then.. What a horrid looking woman!

"Oh so you beat me to the punch!" She laughed menacingly seeing how half of my face is already swelling due to my self-harming slap. "Glad to know your impertinent self deserves punishment but sorry to say that it's still not enough!" She then grabbed me by the hair as she dragged me off my room.

The excruciating pain in my body started to reverberate through my consciousness. My slap, the strands of my hair being pulled, parts of my body aching... I feel like it's not the first time I was abused and hit like this. Since when? I anxiously tried to pull away from her firm grasp but this body of mine is too weak!

I don't remember being a dainty blushing maiden type! I looked at my hands that seemed to have shrunk... And is noticeably porcelain white and pinkish? Ha? When did this happen?

Just as I was full of unanswered questions, I was forcibly sat down on a chair in a somewhat well-maintained middle-class living room. This shocked me considering the condition of the room I woke up in. In comparison, my old room felt like a beggar's while this living space looks more like from a rich, bourgeois family.

I lifted my lowered head only to see a pair of emerald green eyes peering at me. He looks like an old noble man in his sunset years who's eyes initially had worry in them but as I stared back at him, was then replaced by a glint of interest. He was wearing a highclass-looking outfit adorned by multiple precious stones such as shimering swarovski diamonds and opals that made his white over-alls look elegant and pristine. His hair was whitened by age but looks as if it was well cared for as it was brushed handsomely that complimented his fine features. Perhaps when he was younger, he was a ladies' man. He looks good.

"Cecil, this young lady right here is the daughter of Esther, the blonde maid you spoke of?" Asked the old noble man seating across me to the woman who brought me here.

"Yes, Marquess Farron. Our Baron Lisney estate have been graciously taking care of this free-loader for years. We're cultivating her, excluding her from hard-labor, so that she can be wed off as a mistress to Duke Courtenay's son. Why did you want to visit her?" She straightforwardly replied. Espera! Wait a moment.. Courtenay? A mistress?

I incredulously looked at the two discussing my life like I wasn't even here. I heard that the noble old man wanted to adopt me and give money as a compensation. The old woman was trying to squeeze more money off of him where he surprisingly doesn't seem to mind. As I was listening to their conversation, I learned that I am only fourteen years old about to debut to adulthood in this old english society. I've come to accept, in my silent listening, that I transmigrated into another world as a different person. As Erin.

I desperately tried to hide my excitement in my silent eavesdropping. Whatever the hell is going on, this shit is like a living dream to me!

A new world, new body... I can't wait to explore it!