Saved By The Mad Duke
Chapter 167: Black Dust

Chapter 167: Black Dust

Ahspid wrapped his right hand around his wavy white hair behind his neck and tied it into a loose low ponytail with a thin black silk ribbon—a gift received from Aideen, one of her own treasures.

He slid his fingers over the final result of his attempt to tidy up his hair and released a long sigh. Something as trivial as wrapping a ribbon around his locks now seemed like a chore. He used to hate doing it in the past when this appearance was cherished by him, but once he met Lina, the duty to tie his hair was transferred to her, saving him both time and an annoying waste of effort.

When she disappeared, he could not stop thinking about cutting his hair short and never letting it down again, but now he was glad he did not. Now, he still had something of hers with him—a precious memory, an unforgettable experience nobody could take away from him.

As his hair was taken care of, the man stood before the tall mirror hanging next to the bedroom door and took a good look at his own reflection.

Although he was completely naked, Ahspid did not feel vulnerable or exposed. The body in which he was now trapped seemed like a foreign shell, something unfamiliar, alien even, and he couldn’t help but think that even though he was born with it and wore it for almost twenty-seven years in the past, just like a kitten flustered by its own reflection, he will have to get used to it again.

’How bizarre... This body is nothing but a canvas of painful memories that I have been struggling to wipe away up until now. Human nature is absolutely astonishing—just one glimpse at something so significant, and I am pulled back to hell once again. I hate this body... This body is the coffin I have to drag around wherever I choose to go.’

With another long exhale escaping his lips, the man slowly walked up to the large wooden chest and opened its lid. This chest was the only thing he brought with him when Duke Valentine asked him to move to the castle, and this chest was the only thing he had.

As he looked down at everything inside, his lips curled into a lightly bitter smile.

Several books on magic and alchemy wrapped in intricately designed leather covers—expensive gifts Ahspid received from his parents once he was appointed as the Royal Magus. He knew the contents of these books by heart and was still never tired of reading them over and over again; he was embarrassed to admit that what he really kept going back to was the beautifully written notes left by Lina and then by Princess Aideen.

Under the books were his personal journals where he noted interesting thoughts and ideas that usually popped up in his head on random occasions. The journals were always with him, hanging in the air above his head, made invisible with his magic; thus, whenever he needed to write something down, a mere snap of his fingers was enough to have one in his hands.

Three sets of black magic uniforms were placed next to the books, folded neatly, a slight floral aroma still emanating from their fabric. He never cared for scents, after all; as a mage specializing in disguise, it was in his interest to be unnoticed. In this castle, however, his entire being seemed to have acquired that subtle refreshing scent of winter flowers mixed with the smell of the falling snow.

He wondered if that scent would still follow him after he left this place.

A small glass box was placed in the empty corner of the chest right next to his uniforms. It was filled with all kinds of cheap trinkets and accessories—strangely shaped metal rings, long earrings made of glass and beads, thin round metal bracelets that locked tightly around his wide wrists... Each and every one of those things was a little magic artifact of his own creation that helped him to remain unrecognized through all these years. Now, they were nothing but empty knick-knacks, devoid of any power or meaning.

Ahspid allowed himself a little more time to slowly glide his gray eyes over every single thing in the chest as if he were forcing himself to memorize every little detail of his last possessions. When he finally felt like he could no longer stare at them, the man grabbed the chest’s contents with his hands, ensuring that he could fit everything inside his wide arms, then walked up to the burning fireplace, and threw everything into the hot, dancing orange flames.

As he watched the rising tongues of fire greedily devour his possessions, the man couldn’t help but think,

’Still... I feel nothing. I thought my magic was the only thing that could still feed my body and force it to move forward, but now that I am nothing but an empty shell of the person I used to be, I cannot tell what was the hope that I have been chasing all these years.

Now that I’m watching the remnants of my past life turn to ashes... I can’t even be granted a measly sense of catharsis. I feel nothing. Nothing at all. Where was this feeling twenty-six years ago when I so desperately needed it?’

Once the fire seemed to have subsided, his belongings were now nothing but black dust at the bottom of the fireplace.

Taking a deep breath to refill his lungs, Ahspid turned around and walked back to his bed where he found another set of a black uniform laid out on top of it—the black uniform he used to wear back when he still lived in the Capital. The one that belonged to his original appearance.

Piece by piece, he began to drape himself in clothes, carefully adjusting every bronze button and every silver pin as if he were preparing himself for an important social event.

At last, when the last button of his outer jacket was pushed through the hole, the man turned away from the mirror, expressing no desire to see his reflection one last time.