Soft patterns danced upon the stone floor within Melch's chamber from galleried windows through which moonlight streamed. A faint hum of beoksfly something akin to cicadas outside the estate was a silent reminder of the stillness of the night. He lay dressed in layers of silk and velvet on the grand four-poster bed. Staring at the ceiling his thoughts spiralled. It had been a long day and though his body craved rest, his mind refused to relent.

He was no longer John, not entirely. Nor was he Melch. Memories of two lives intertwined within him, blurring the lines between past and present. He needed to think... no strategize. His future, precarious and uncertain, depended on it.

John had been a team leader in a high-pressure corporate world before this life of his. He was good at his work, but being good often had its price. He had been betrayed far more often than he would like to recall, by fellow employees who would smile in his face while making plans to ruin him, supervisors who promised promotion and then undermined him, and even subordinates who turned on him when it was convenient. Such experiences shaped him, sharpening his viewpoint about trust and loyalty.

This world may be different, but humans or in his case, nobles nature remained the same. He could not afford to rely on people without understanding their motivations. Trust was a currency he wasn't willing to spend freely.

Melch's body was fragile, and Valkora was a curse in itself. John felt the tightness in his chest, the dull ache in his limbs, and the lingering sense of fragility that made every movement deliberate. His breath though steady now, often felt like it could falter at the slightest exertion. It was terrifying. But far more terrifying was the realization that he had no time to waste.

He had pieced together bits of Melch's life and goals. His most immediate objective was Theoder Academy. He felt the institution was far more than an accomplishment, it marked a lifeline of rescue for him, a beacon of hope in a sea of despair. Melch had known this and planned for it, albeit with limited options.

The academy offered different path: mage, warrior, historian, healer. John ran through the possibilities one by one, his mind processing each one. A mage? No. Melch's recollections revealed what John had known all along to be true, this body couldn't feel mana. Melch had always guessed it, especially after hearing of his sister Maia having magical capability at the age four. John balled his fists under the covers. If mana was tied to the soul, as Melch's knowledge suggested, then maybe, just maybe John could tap into it but the thought was a gamble at best.

The warrior path was even less likely. Melch's body was far too frail for actual combat. The boy could barely climb a staircase that in itself was an achievement, let alone swing a sword or undergo the grueling exercises of a warrior. John completely ruled it out.

That left history and medicine. Melch had chosen history, and for good reason. His understanding of Ancient Forsic and Modern Forsic, the two key languages of the kingdom gave him a significant edge. He could delve into forgotten texts, uncover ancient relics and perhaps even find a way to cure himself.

But the notion of relics made John pause. In his previous life, he’d learned that valuable resources be it a promotion, a project or in this case a relic were never simply given. They were fought over, coveted and often stolen. In particular, Healing relics were rare and priceless. Owning one would paint a target on his back drawing the attention of nobles, criminals and even sometimes kingdoms.

No, securing a relic would not be sufficient. He needed to make sure that no one could ever take it away from him. For that he needed secrecy, strategy and most importantly caution. He could not rely on blind faith not now that the stakes were this high.

His thoughts drifted to Melch's siblings. They might prove to be useful allies, but John couldn't rule out the threats. Maia, the second eldest was a prodigy at the Legerth Academy of Magic. She was a star student, her letters to the family full of stories of her accomplishments and the grandeur of the academy. She had access to resources beyond John's imagination. But there was a problem, Legerth's focus was destruction magic, artifacts of war and power. Healing relics were far from their priority and John doubted she would risk her own standing to help her sickly brother.

Devon was the older of the two, so it seemed like he was more down to earth. He was being schooled under the tutelage of their maternal grandfather, Thomas Nicolescu. Thomas is a knight commander of the Order of the Verdant Shield, a pretty big deal in the Church of Beginnings. Melch's medicines were already coming through Thomas's contributions. And if any one man were likely to fall into possession of the rare medicine or relics, it was him.

But relying on Devon or Thomas wasn’t without complications. The Church was a powerful institution, its influence woven into every aspect of the kingdom. Any aid from them would come with strings attached. John shuddered at the thought of becoming indebted to an organization as vast and controlling as the Church of Beginnings. In his old life, he’d seen how dependency on a single entity could be exploited. He wouldn’t let himself become a pawn again.

John took a deep breath and exhaled his breath misted in the cool night air. If he was going after a relic, he needed to be discreet, have allies and have a plan but allies needed to be vetted carefully. Melch's memories suggested loyalty from Leif, but John knew better than to take that at face value. Even Leif with his cheerful demeanor might betray him if the right opportunity presented itself.

John's scientific background from his past life helped him critically analyze the situation. If mana was somehow linked to the soul, as Melch's scattered knowledge hinted at then there was a chance, no matter how small that John might be able to tap into it. If he could awaken even the faintest spark of magic within himself, it would change everything.

But that too entailed risks. It was not merely something to be used, it was a symbol of authority and a power of any sort draws attention.

John sighed his gaze drifting to the window. The twin moons hung low in the sky, their pale light illuminating the rolling fields beyond the estate. Somewhere out there answers awaited him. He just had to survive long enough to find them.

Melch’s memories offered glimpses of hope. Theoder Academy with its libraries and scholars could hold the key but to get there, John had to navigate the challenges ahead. Securing a recommendation was crucial and he would need to carefully play his role as the youngest son of the Vasti household. Any hint of strangeness in his behavior could raise suspicions.

"I must survive" he whispered to himself, not even raising a voice that might barely crack into the hushed silence of the room. "But survival is never going to be enough for me. I want control."

The night deepened, the estate bathed in the silvery glow of moonlight. As sleep finally claimed him, one thought remained etched in his mind:

He would not be a victim of circumstances. Not this time.