'What happened?'
It was the first question that the man asked when he regained his consciousness though he kept his eyes closed. He could feel his back pressed on a soft and squishy surface. When he opened his eyes, he could see how the ceiling reflected the scene below, and such scene was himself lying bare on a bed of hay as he was surrounded by lanterns. Those physical objects seemed to be floating on what could be assumed as a thick boiling liquid emitting black fog, as he could smell the acid that seemed to be originating from it.
In the reflection, he had this thick and tousled raven hair, falling in loose, uneven waves of pure dark strands that curled and bent naturally with locks cascading from the crown. With a symmetrical face, his sleepy eyes were sun-kissed gold paired with thick black eyelashes, his nose finely sculpted was straight and narrow, and his lips carried a smooch of red spider lily. He had this defined jawline that was a work of art, flowing into a long, elegant neck, and with broad but fine shoulders, his body was slim and lithe, poised like a willow in bloom. His skin, even though fair, had hints of moonlit pallor. Such broken physical description could not hide the fact that he was an adult, one that was almost be greeting his thirties.
'Blodeuwedd.' He remembered his name. 'I am called Blodeuwedd Morningstar.'
But apart from that, he couldn't remember anything that could help him adapt to the place of isolation.
He looked at himself again through the mirror ceiling and he couldn't familiarize if that body was really his.
He was wearing a thick, buttonless long-sleeve tunic with a mock neck, adorned with something that resembled a cocoon meander, and had an ornamental flared cuff.
'Why can't I remember anything apart from my name?' he asked in his mind.
"Ah," he said, trying to speak, his voice was monotonous and cold. "Bla-du-wed."
Pronouncing his name was all that he could do at the moment. He felt like he was inhabiting a body that was never his, and that he could've possessed it and had become a vessel. But, of course, it was solely the fact that he had lost his memories.
Just how many seconds had passed ever since he saw everything in his vision clearly, and the next thing he did was to extend his arms forward while still resting, as he spread his arms in the air.
No matter how hard he stared at his soft and slender hands, no answers came to his mind.
He sighed.
Then he blinked his eyes.
'Just...'
He closed his hands, and opened them, and then suddenly closed them again, like a child only learning to control his five senses for the first time. Then he counted his fingers like he had not seen them before, and counted time that seemed to become a sloth. As though he couldn't understand.
'What the hell should I understand?'
Blodeuwedd took a seat with one hand resting on the hay.
Before he could even formulate another question, sparks appeared before they bore a little ball of fire. Its warmth, its light, and its glare were all attributes of a sun, only that this one was small and condesed into a cute form, a size of a fist. The book wiggled as it flipped once and a page was torn from it.
Blodeuwedd's lips twitched partially.
The old and rusty page, like time forgot it, then floated above the book and became the size of a normal page, and from it, there appeared letters that seemed to form a message.
Such message appeared at the center of the page, as it was smeared in black ink.
「 THE ORPHAN'S HANDBOOK 」
After that, the page became smaller and returned to the book. Such old material did what the other acted earlier and formed words that were much longer this time.
「FOREWORD」
「Definition of a Handbook」
「A [Handbook] is a system medium manifested in the form of a miniature book. When summoned, it projects its contents as words dispersed through a page, allowing information to be perceived. Though it resembles a written volume in structure, its true function aligns with that of a system window, serving as an interface to store and view various information.」
「You can flip the air to proceed.」
After reading the said definition, Blodeuwedd was much more puzzled, his forehead now creased.
'What the hell is this?' Because it was the truth, and what his feeling was somewhat valid. He just had woken from sleep, found himself inside a cultic room, and then suddenly, out of nowhere there appeared a book that was by far the most hideous material he could see there.
But he still flipped the air.
He learned many things in the「Foreword」such as the nature, method, attributes, and limitation and cost. Though there were several information that he might read again later, he still continued to scan.
This time, what had took form was different. It was like a notification, as it was printed not with black ink but was projected through light, as though words themselves were contained in a dark panel, and inside, they glowed brightly. It was situated at the center of the page.
「You have completed the first procedure.」
It moved on top of the page after, aligned in the middle.
「Your [Slumberer] existence has revealed itself.」
「Your [Slumberer] existence is fading.」
「You have acquired a new existence [Child].」
Then another set of notifications manifested in a different panel, almost reaching the bottom of the page.
「An [Entity] is observing you.」
「The [Entity] is revealing Himself.」
「You are in the protection of the [Widower].」
'Slumberer? Child? Widower?' His thick eyebrows furrowed as he asked those questions. 'I haven't fully understood what the 「Foreword」 had to do with all of this, and now I become a Child being watched by some creepy widower?'
「You have obtained a new knowledge [Law of Knocking].」
A series of information surged into his mind like a raging torrent, a searing pain abruptly tormenting him like it was about to make his head explode into pieces. Such revelation wasn't easy for him to digest, but piece by piece, he was completely grasping what the ingrained learning signified. He could only stimulate the horror they brough about.
Before his confusion heightened evenly, a new notification had found its way on the page.
「The [Tradition of Knocking] will commence.」