I got Reincarnated but My Wife is Now My Mother! Chapter One
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'What was I doing just now? Oh, right, Abigail and I were lost in the worst storm of our generation. Weren't we almost to the lodge?' I sat up feeling the worst headache of my life. My eyes start watering from the blurriness. I felt weak like I'd been through a marathon ten times over. Every muscle is stiff and stings as I wiggle a bit. 'Where's Abigail? Where am I?' There was a crash. Something hit us or fell on our SUV. I remember a lot of blood. There was so much blood. Abigail's voice was so faint. I could barely hear her.

"Did I die? Did we die?" I whispered.

"Oh, son! You're awake!" A male voice said.

"What happened?" Abigail whispered.

"Get the nurse in here! My wife and son are waking up!" The man said.

'Was he talking about Abigail? She's my wife. Who is this guy?' My vision became clearer. A middle-aged man hovers over me. There is something strange about the way that his short, black, wavy hair is styled.

'Do people even wear their hair like that? It looks like something old-fashioned.' The man's eyes are a deep blue. Like a sparkling ocean. High cheekbones, a prominent nose, and stern lips. A thick and impressive beard. He looks like an aristocrat or noble of some kingdom. Although, now that I think about it, the clothes he wore were of medieval fashion. 'Is this man cosplaying or something? Are we in a hospital?' The man is tall, too, from what I could tell. Even with him sitting down, he was a towering man, not to mention in perfect condition. He looks fit as they come.

I turn to my left slightly. A woman lay in a bed next to mine. That bit of information confirmed my suspicion we were in a hospital. The woman looks strikingly similar to Abigail. Her long fiery red hair lay over her body. She was looking at me with those stunning emerald green eyes. Her skin is pale white with soft cheekbones, a small, upturned nose, and puffy lips. My wife also wore similar medieval fashion clothing. Her ample bosom peeked at me like mountains. Even in our late forties, Abigail was still the most elegant and gorgeous woman I knew. Yet, she looks no older than the day of her sixteenth or seventeenth birthday.

"Oh honey, I'm so glad you are awake. I'd thought I lost both of you today," the man said, holding her hand.

"Don't worry, Count Asa, Lady Aiko is recovering well. Your son Asa is also in good condition," another old man said.

"How long before my wife can move about again?" Count Asa questioned.

"Within the day, Milord. Both will be a speedy recovery. There's no lasting damage. On the contrary, the healing magic has restored their vitality," the man replied.

'What is this man talking about? Abigail is my wife, and I'm not his son.' Abigail raises to hug the man called Count Asa. I try to reach out to stop her, but the man embraces us instead. He looks me in the eyes.

"Son, this will never happen again. Blessed the Gods and Goddesses that neither of you died today," Count Asa said.

I want to say something, but my voice doesn't articulate any words. Instead, I witnessed my own wife talking to this man like he was her husband. They both treat me like I'm their son. Nothing makes one damn bit of sense. I was in a hospital, but this looks more like a fancy house or mansion, in hindsight. The nurses wore similar medieval-style attire. I see what seems to be maids in the background passing by the open door. Then, out of the corner of my eyes, I see a luxurious mirror. I, too, wore middle-aged-themed clothing. I was stunned by my appearance. In my confused state, I recognize the person in the mirror.

The length and wave of my black hair are short and wavy. I am about seven feet four inches tall, almost five inches more concise than the average person. Although I am slender and muscular, my physique is well-toned and muscular. With a medium-sized but slender nose and firm lips, I have striking blue eyes. High angular cheekbones and thick check-mark eyebrows adorn my forehead above my eyes. I projected strength and confidence through my warm, confident eyes. With an oblong face and a square jaw, I had an asymmetrical, oval, oblong face with a strong square jaw.

Then it hits me. I'm a spitting image of this man named Count Asa. There was no denying it now after seeing my own reflection. With the talk of magic and the out-of-place wardrobe, the only conclusion I could come to is not only me but both my wife and I have been reincarnated into another world. A fantasy world, at that... The only other valid explanation was that hallucinating. Those two scenarios are the best ones I'm willing to entertain, as any other would break my mind. It all adds up.

The clothes, the title Count, this lavish room. 'But why would Abigail not remember who I am or that I'm her husband? Is it possible that she was reincarnated before I was? And or she doesn't remember her previous life?' There was only one way to find out the information I wanted. I need to get out of this bed and look around. If I get the chance, I will try to talk to Abigail or Aiko, as she's called now.

"Um, I'm feeling much better now. Would I be able to leave now?" I asked, trying to play the part of a loyal son.

"Would that be permissible?" Count Asa asked the old man.

"Hmm, there's no reason why the young lad should stay in bed any longer. I suppose he could leave if he wishes," the man said.

He was old and wise looking. His long gray hair to his waist but well kept. Although his face has wrinkles, I could tell in his youth, he was handsome, having well-proportioned cheekbones, a stout nose, and slim lips. He was short but slender and fit for health for an elderly man. His clothes were in a middle-aged-themed room—a blue robe with a white shirt underneath. He held a walking cane in one hand and, in the other, a strange-looking staff. I got the feeling he is intelligent.

"Thank you, Alfred; I'm in your debt as always," the Count said.

"I won't hear anything of this sort, Asa Stephan Martindale. I am proud to be in service to an esteemed noble house like yours, Milord. I only wish I had been there when those ruffians attacked your wife and son," Alfred said.

"You are a good friend and valued advisor. I wish I could stay longer, but this matter of these ruffians must be dealt with. Son, if you would, please accompany me to the dungeon. I want you to decide for yourself what happens to those that attack a noble family," he said.

'Damn, I didn't expect to have to go with him anywhere.' I see no other option but to follow him. Getting out of bed made me sway a little, but I recovered fast—no point in making anyone worry about me until I knew exactly what was happening here. The Count led the way, with me following close behind. Our height was almost the same as mine, just a tad bit taller. Now that I thought more about it, he looks more like my great-grandfather. Looking around the room, I realized this was indeed a middle-aged-era castle or estate.

The floor and walls are stone. Torches lined the walls. I couldn't tell from the room we were in with all the sunlight, but I saw torches inside there too. Blue rugs line the hallway, and blue, white, and gold banners decorate the walls. Men donning bone white plate armor with a blue chest covering were everywhere. The symbol of a silver horse is on all the banners and men at arms.

'All these people can't be cosplaying. There's no doubt I've died and reincarnated into this world. ' The two of us went down a long flight of stairs. It becomes darker the deeper we descend. Finally, after a few flights, we were there. Two big and heavy double doors blocked the entrance, along with a set of four men in armor. They looked serious and dangerous. Another set of four was back in the shadows. It seems like they are praying or something. I watched as the men opened the door for the Count. They show the most upstanding respect and loyalty for the man; this made me question who this Count was.

Inside, cells line both sides of the long corridors. Each of them are in giant cells that could hold twenty or so. We passed both of them. Then, turn down a hall with some single cells. We stopped at one as I heard screaming from further down the hall. The sound sent shivers down my spine. I couldn't imagine what was happening to that poor soul.

A warrior opens the door to the door cell. Others do the same for several other cells. In total, seven are open. My heart dropped when I realized who these ruffians were. Four young men and three women exit the cells. They couldn't be older than me. 'My God, they're just kids!' They wore what amounted to rags. Flashes of struggle come rushing through my mind. The whole scene plays in front of me like a movie on fast-forward. Everything that happened, I understand. These are the people that attacked us. 'Were these my memories?'

"That one is the leader, and those two are her siblings," a warrior revealed.

"Execute the others at once. My son will decide the fate of those three," Count Asa said coldly.

There was no hesitation in the men under his authority. They acted swiftly, escorting the four malnutritioned men down the hallway. Further toward the screaming. A sinking feeling nags at my stomach. The three women never once look at me. It was hard to tell what they looked like in this dark lighting. Two of them were clearly teenagers.

"Son, this woman is the mastermind behind the attack on you and your mother. Therefore, I leave her and her ilk's fate in your hands. Whatever you choose will be lawful and righteous. The choice is yours, Asa Sung Martindale," Count Asa explained.

A sense of dread fills my stomach. 'How can I decide their fate? Yet, I have to. This man called Count Asa would execute them without a second thought. The man that is supposed to be my father.' The lives of three people are in my hands. There is only one thing I can do.

"Make them my slaves," I whispered.

I knew I didn't have long to assess the situation, but this was a long shot, and I had to try. At least I could look after them. Then I could find out why they attacked us. The memories I have shown them were trying to get out valuables. Not harm or kill us. It was a random encounter with no meaning other than the wrong place for them and us. I could see the reasons behind their attack. The true motives of what they were after. Four people have already died from that mistake. My father looks over me for a moment. I could tell he was considering what I asked. The weight of it is totally apparent to me.

This world isn't like what I know, and it's not some fantasy. There are real consequences here, long-lasting repercussions for any choices made. Nevertheless, I had to accept that this is the real world I now live in. The Count seems satisfied with the measure of my resolve. He nods to the armored prison guards. They immediately take the three women away. For a moment, I glimpse the mastermind looking at me. There was a sense of absolute confusion, but more than that was a look of sheer and utter horror in her eyes. A cross between desperation and hopelessness crept into her eyes as the guards to her and the other to females away. 'My God, what kind of world is this?'

"Hmm, enough with this serious business. You've decided, and that is enough for me. Now, if you're up to it later, you have your training to continue. I know you must understand how important defending yourself is," my father said.

"Yes, I do," I whispered.

'If it's this bad for them. What could happen to me out there in the world?' I have to prepare for whatever this world throws at me. For Abigail's sake, I must find a way to protect us.