THE INHERITANCE

The heavy oak door of the Arhentia mansion closed behind you with a definitive thud, sealing you inside the oppressive silence of the grand foyer. The air was cold, smelling of old dust, polishing wax, and something faintly medicinal. Marble floors reflected the dim light from a crystal chandelier high above, revealing a space too large for one person.

A lone figure detached itself from the shadows near the staircase, moving with a hesitant, almost clumsy grace. A young woman, drowning in a simple maid's uniform that seemed a size too large. She flinched at the sound of the door closing, then dipped into a deep, unsteady bow, a strand of soft blonde hair falling across her freckled nose. In the vast emptiness of the hall, she seemed not just small, but utterly lost.

The girl straightened up, her movements jerky with nervous energy. Wide, anxious eyes the color of a summer sky darted across your face, too frightened to hold your gaze for more than a second. Her voice, when it came, was a high, trembling whisper that seemed to get lost in the tomb-like silence before reaching you.

"W-welcome, M-master. I am... Asica. Your s-servant." She paused, her lower lip trembling slightly as she desperately tried to remember what came next in the script she'd surely been drilled on. Her hands clutched at the rough fabric of her skirt, knuckles white. "The... the house... it is... ready?"

INTERLUDE: REALIZATION

<< 48 HOURS AGO >> Consciousness returns to you slowly and painfully. Your head is pounding, and there's an unpleasant taste of copper and ash in your mouth. You open your eyes and realize you're lying on a bed in an unfamiliar, spacious bedroom. The furniture is expensive but tasteless. The air smells of someone else's perfume and cold coffee. You try to sit up, but your body feels foreign, refusing to obey.

A quiet, mocking chuckle sounds nearby. In an armchair by a powerful computer desk sits an unremarkable man. His features seem blurred, and the moment you look away, his image instantly fades from your memory.

"Congratulations on waking up. And on your rebirth in the world of your dreams, of course," his voice is husky, like the rustle of ashes.

You struggle to prop yourself up on an elbow, your head spinning. "How about I break your legs right now?" you croak. "I don't understand anything. This isn't funny. Who are you?"

The entity in the chair sighs, and the last traces of good humor evaporate from its face. "Let me explain simply. You are in the body of your double from a world parallel to yours. Why? Because the previous owner of this body, the local imbecile, somehow got his hands on a very ancient and powerful artifact of obedience. And, surprisingly, his only wish was to switch to a world where he could find himself some thicker, sharper adventures."

He opens his palm. A strange, blackened stone lies on it. As you watch, it crumbles into fine ash and is carried away by an invisible draft.

"That's all the magic. Wishes, my friend, must be formulated precisely, according to the terms of rituals established since the creation of time. He failed to do that."

You look at him skeptically, squeezing your temples with your fingers. You desperately want to point a finger at your own head.

"Okay. If this is true... then where is he now? In my body? And what exactly did he wish for? Just to move?"

The entity smirks. "Not quite. Your double will get his adrenaline rush in full. You, by the way, were fated to die exactly a week from now in a sudden encounter with a couple of kind fellows in a back alley. So the rules of the worlds are maintained — insignificant rearrangements like this one are allowed."

You slowly, with dawning understanding, shake your head. "A multitude of droplets... makes a whole sea."

The entity giggles gleefully. "Exactly. That's how foundations are changed. But you, my friend, shouldn't bother with unnecessary questions. Life, you know, is more important."

He gets up and approaches a bookshelf, running a finger over the spines. "You should concern yourself with something else — what kind of world you've ended up in. Sanity, laws, and morality here are... different. Study the basics if you don't want to make a mistake. After all, you have to live until the end of your allotted time."

He pulls a thick volume in a leather binding from the shelf — "Natural and Positive Law.""After this, you'll understand what information to look for and where. And I advise you to read the notification letter from the notary on the table. There's... a lot of interesting stuff there."

He turns to leave but offers you a small, simple ring made of dark metal as a parting gift. "However, if a situation arises from which you absolutely cannot escape... call me. Only once. Swallow this — and I will come." With that, his figure dissolves into the air as if it were never there.

<< 26 HOURS AGO >> A day of disbelieving pinches and frantic exploration. The world on TV seemed almost normal, until news segments about "Servant-Debtor market values" and "labor compliance" began to paint a darker picture.

With great difficulty, you learn that your double's parents are dead, and he himself was on vacation — which is good news. Surprisingly, your double had an education and job similar to yours.

The unopened letter from the notary sat like a lead weight on the table. You don't have access to your double's PC — you don't know the password, and you can't find it in any notebooks.

You open the envelope. Your new name is Arhentia. Your uncle, one Kalterik Arhentia, passed away three days ago. According to the will, all his property, including some "debt property," passes to you. You are ordered to appear at the office within a week. And in two days the allotted time ends.

<< 3 HOURS AGO >> The notary's office. The dispassionate official. The stack of documents. The keys. The folder. The page titled "Chattel Assets" with a single name: Asica. With a stony face, you sign papers, not understanding half the terms. Your signature on the line, a numb, paralyzing cultural shock setting in as you understood what, not who, you had just inherited. You reread the lines over and over, not believing your eyes.

"Purchased... What do you mean, purchased?!" You signed silently, understanding half the terms, feeling the ground vanish beneath your feet.

<< 30 MINUTES AGO >> The taxi drove away, leaving you alone outside the imposing mansion. Your hands trembled as you turned the key. The inside was silent, cold, and vast.

CURRENT MOMENT

Asica stood before you, a portrait of pure, undiluted anxiety. Your silence, your palpable shock and confusion — so utterly atypical for a Master of Altara — did not terrify her any less than outright anger would have. Her breath hitched in a tiny, audible gasp. She was waiting for the other shoe to drop. For a command she wouldn't understand. For punishment.

From somewhere deep within the house, on the second floor perhaps, came a faint, muffled scrape, like a door closing on its own or a piece of furniture settling. The sound made her jump slightly, her wide eyes flicking toward the staircase before snapping back to you, fearing she'd been caught being distracted.

"M-master? I am... at your service. I await your instructions."