By the time I regained my senses back, neither the mysterious voices nor the white expanse were there. Only the wondrous sight of myself falling down the ground, and that's when my eyes begun to darken out of its vision. 

I had an epiphany; that is, regression is too exhausting, so the first thing that I did after returning back to ten years ago…is to sleep. 

In another world, I would already be awake, maybe starting some mischief that could shake the whole world. Just wait, Unified Realm! I shall save you from your unlucky fate, but let me rest for a while. I'll do the saving after this. 

It was inevitable. Even the great Grand Duke of Farris, the Fourth Realm, couldn't escape the tedium of having itself killed during an apocalypse, got scammed by suspicious entities who keeps giving him headaches, and then have him transported back to the past. My fate has always been cruel, but I decided to simply sleep on that cruelty.

Nevertheless, it was a quite short slumber. As I felt my eyelids begun to flutter, movements of aether forces resonates within my own, setting my soul in a soothing yet paralyzing torture. In this sleep, dreams went and flew my mind. 

I was twenty-one, I supposed, when I stop dreaming in my sleep. It can be done, albeit with some difficulty. Through a peculiar and precise aether manipulation within ones body, it is possible to control what appears in a person's resting mind. Erasing both good dreams and nightmares…is useful, practical even. Especially for someone like me who has to lead armies to war. I don't need to see unnecessary visions while I'm resting, as seeing the slow destruction of the Unified Realm is enough for my stomach. 

Maybe it's because I returned just right now, making my control over my Inner Circulation a bit faulty than my usual, that I begun dreaming of things again. 

I was alone inside a caged chamber filled with wooden dolls. Dull, shallow beads of eyes are set in place, all fixed on me. I have no one else to call, so I talk to the dolls. I have nothing else in this cage, so I called them mine. The moment countless wooden heads turned into one direction opposite of mine, I immediately snapped the link between my mind and my aether rose. 

Foolish, I said to myself who simply let my head be overwhelmed by my emotions, and to the moron playing tricks using Illusion Arcane. 

And this is why I hate dreaming, damn it. 

Those old foxes are always playing their game, though it's just reasonable of them to do these things. Ten years ago, not many people are afraid of Farris' Grand Duke's name yet. Ten years ago, the Erelian Regency still see Marvius Yrian Verelise as a mere puppet, a young brat they can groom with their tricks. Besides, I am only reaching adulthood this year, just before my eighteenth, a time my potential has only been ripening. 

The eighteen years old Marvius might not even notice he's being targeted by a 2nd-grade perceptual technique, not yet, but the 8th-circle Witcher that I am now, easily manipulate the circuits of foreign aether streaming through my consciousness, traced it back to where it came from, and severe the bonds connecting the other party to mine. All while hiding my trace from the foe's sight. 

At least, it should. In the case the other witcher is aware of my reversal, then that would say a lot to the people at the Regency. But it's highly unlikely…

Ah classic, it's only been a moment or so of my arrival, yet I already received such a warm welcome. 

With that epiphany, I decided to open my eyes at last.

The bedchamber of the Grand Duke resides at the Eastern Pillar of Aria's Ark, where the sun cam shine the most just as it's rising.  
It was on the early morning of Rulus, year of Liena, and the sun begun casting the Lands of the Dragon Tree with a calm yet brewing glow of summer.

I bore no predilection to dramatics, so I ended up not basking underneath the sunrise, simply hiding from the light. In another universe, Marvius would probably raise his arm towards the sun, and let some light pass through the gaps between his fingers, maybe having some deep epiphanies about his death and rebirth, but that's him. The Marvius of this universe decisively leave the comfort of his bed, and decided to take the first step towards the future. 

"Daena." I called to the air, and not even a moment pass when the Head Maiden returned with a still and restrained response. 

"Your Highness, you're awake. Shall I prepare your medicines?" The woman's voice came through the walls outside my bedchamber. Past habits gave no time to reflect on the things I said, and I immediately replied.

"Medicines?"  Ah yes, this is that time. Nothing significant, just some wandering poisons here and there. I considered it unwise to suddenly brew suspicion on the first day of my coming, so I added. "Yes, and a glass of water." 

Regression is an exhausting battle, and a parching one as well. Though I guess it's also related to the fact that I was sick from being poisoned, or that I'm suffering from the drawbacks of some random Illusion Arcane. It could be other things, but that shouldn't matter anymore. 

"One more thing," I said, striding towards the gilded vanity opposite of my bed. I scowled, watching the silver-blonded boy grimaced at what he sees. 

That should be me, I amazingly deduced. 

"How many days are left until my anointment in the Tower?" I wondered if the maids watching my every movements and words right now are sharp enough to notice my unease. Daena is, at least, but she's also wise enough to keep that observation to herself. 

"There leaves five days before your eighteenth birthday, Your Highness." 

Five days, so it's not exactly ten years. The mysterious voices told me that this is the only point where the Tree of All Worlds might be saved, but how? Those who knows the cruelty of fate is familiar of the eventful year that is Liena. I, the newly coronated Tower Lord of Fourth Realm, have experienced the same adventure, tedium as they may. 

First, I suppose we must survive these five days of inevitability. 

---

"The young master has break free of the enchantment." A man in deep purple cloak, coldly reported to the other sitting in its office. "But before I can be aware of the aether's origin, the link returned like nothing happened."

"And so," a tall, glaring woman frowned on hearing the man's words. "If it's already been fixed, why bother come here, telling us of nonsense like withdrawing the Talisman."

"Lady Berina," a warning left the mouth of the person sitting before the two. The man is grey, skinny, and eyes shadowed by years of untold apathy. Lord Malin drew his ancient sight towards the cloaked man, and said. 

"The duke is a boy, plenty of potential, but a boy still. 3rd-circled and a talent on a special Affinity known only through legends, quite impressive. But if those reason is enough to provoke the cowardice of a 5th-circled Illusionist like you, then I shall be quite disappointed with the recent arrangements, Sir Julia Vermont."

The witcher silently grit his teeth, but still lowered his head to apologize to the Second Seat of the Erelian Regency. 

"I admit that suspicion is not enough to withdraw casting an arcane like the Talisman, but what if the young duke is hiding something about his true power? The risk is too perilous."

"You're saying that we might have been underestimating that brat, but it appears we merely overestimated you." Lady Berina snapped at the excuses of the witcher, then turned to the old man that is her father. "My lord, let me and Andere handle this affair. I shall not disappoint you like this foolish craven."

"You don't understand, my lady." The witcher heaved his arm to the air, and suddenly a globe of images appeared above his hand. There, the young duke is standing before a mirror as his maids prepared his attire. "If I am a 3rd-circled witcher, and I noticed that my dreams are being controlled by another witcher, perhaps someone stronger than me, then the first thing that I would do is to hide my movements."

"Are you here to lecture us of all your nonsense---?"

"Lady Berina." The old man gave his daughter another frosty stare. "I shall not repeat myself. Sir Vermont, please continue."

The witcher nodded, and in his aether globe, the duke is now breaking his fast. "Yet the young master did nothing, and his aether rose simply reacted to the foreign arcane. It's like he didn't even bother resisting."

"Or it's a bluff the young duke wants us to risk our chance on." Lord Malin lifted his hand towards his chin, thinking. "Perhaps he doesn't possess the capability to manipulate his power like you expect him to do."

"That's how it looks like," Julia admitted. "Even if the young master is proficient enough to hide his tracks, I should be able to spot his maneuvers easily enough. But that's only if he's a 3rd-circled Witcher, just like what your reports told me."

"Do you think we're foolish enough to not consider that matter?" Lady Berina then explained. "This few weeks, I have been trying to manipulate the beverages the duke drinks in his evening supper. Poisons are risky, of course, but potions are not. One of them is something you should be familiar of, sir."

"A Mermaid's Tear." The witcher considered. "Highly accurate, and is both tasteless and brew no odor. It should be connected with another artifact---."

Before he can say more, Lady Berina threw something like a small round mirror at his hands. Julia Vermont released his clairvoyance arcane first, before observing the artifact. 

"Eyes of Indigo. The darker the ink shown in its glass, the greater his aether power and circle is. As you can see, the ink is dark enough, somewhere between 3rd and 4th, but only up to there. We have our reason to be confident on casting the Talisman, unless you're saying that the duke can achieve his 8th aether reawakening overnight. You are not that foolish aren't you, Sir Vermont?" 

Sir Julia Vermont swallowed a gulp, before admitting his defeat. 

"Yes, my lady. The plan shall progress as you will by this evening."

After the witcher had been dismissed, the old man continue reading some documents for today's meeting, while his daughter scoffed behind the witcher's back. 

"This is why I hate hedge witchers. They're all greedy for money, yet can't even be competent enough to do this simple thing."

"They're also independent, out of the Great Witcher Guild's grasp." Lord Malin calmly retorted while reading. "That way, they can't be traced back to us, even when caught. That's enough chatter about this fool, I'm more concerned about the other councilors."

To that, Lady Berina reported what her spies have told her. "The Seventh, Fifth, and Fourth seemed to agree that moving at the exact date of the duke's travel to the Imperial City should be the most efficient way. That pig of the Third Seat hired someone fools to move tommorow, though it's said that half of them is working for the Fourth now. I have no information about the Sixth yet, except for him meeting with some underground traders. As for the First, only the goddesses of Fates knows whatever Lady Alician does with her life."

The daughter smiled victoriously. "Of course, no one else have moved as further as us in this game. We shall win this, father. I can see it."

"It's but a matter of time," Lord Malin lifted his ancient eyes towards the lady. "Soon, the young duke must fall into a nightmare he shall never leave." 

Unnecessary A/N: a new poll guys! It's okay if you don't read the story, just go vote in the poll. Voting is fun okay. 

Anyway I'm writing this as an attempt on slice of life but what the hell

...ok, so I changed the arc title even tho I really like the former one :<