Third Person: Transmigrating into a Transmigrator's Story

The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the wind outside that crackled by the open window.

I didn't look at Aleena to know that she was still standing there perfectly straight like this was just another item to cross on her list.

Another noble brat who had fallen short.

'Time to Pack it up.'

I let out a slow breath, bent down, and began gathering what little I had that was worth taking.

'I don't need all of this do I?'

I just needed the essentials. Pushing a narrative that this event changed me will actually do me more good in the long run.

My redemption arc.

I picked up a cracked notebook with torn marks along the spine, one of the few things Ronan had actually written in. It was his journal. I hesitated, then tossed it into the bag anyway.

A gold dagger followed, then a silver signet ring that had rolled under my bed months ago.

Clothes, wrinkled, some still half-damp, others with dried ink stains, were shoved into the bag next. No point folding them. Let the commoners see me as I was. My hands worked fast, maybe too fast.

When I finally zipped the bag closed, I straightened and glanced toward Aleena.

She was still watching me.

I changed out of my robe into something more presentable. I did not mind the audience.

"Enjoy the view?" I asked, slinging the bag over my shoulder.

She didn't answer. Just turned on her heel and stepped aside, holding the door open like the executioner unveiling the gallows.

I walked out of the room, heading to the exit of Dormis Caelora, leaving behind the last shreds of whatever pride I'd still been clinging to.

The hallway outside was quiet, lined with golden sconces and marble trim, an aesthetic I wouldn't be seeing again in Dormis Kirell, that was for damn sure.

Aleena trailed behind at an ever polite distance.

And then I saw her.

Isla Fitzroy.

My sister, my twin.

She stood at the base of the steps, arms akimbo, framed perfectly by the morning light like some angel of judgment. Her silver hair straight, shining, and endless caught the breeze, glinting like blades.

We had the same cedar-brown skin, the same high cheekbones, the same eyes.

She was me but wrapped in elegance, poise, and control.

'Of course, she'd be here.'

I sighed, slowing as I approached. "Here to gloat?"

Her expression didn't shift. There was no smirk or pity. Just that quiet fire behind her gaze.

"This is just the consequence of your actions, Ronan," she said evenly.

I didn't answer. My fists clenched at my sides and the air turned sharp. Cold.

We were close when we were young, but the world drove us apart. Especially now that we had both awakened. She had more power and potential than me.

'As expected of a main character.'

She was a part of Dorian's, protagonist one, harem. So she was important to the story. Though I wonder how things will turn out now that I, Ronan, won't die as early as before. It'll directly challenge her own existence.

But that's a story for another day.

Isla didn't flinch. She tilted her chin upward to meet my eyes, she had to; I'd always been taller, and there it was. That spark. That fire, flickering to life behind her stare.

"Ahem!"

Aleena cleared her throat behind me, "Master Ronan. We should go."

I didn't turn to her.

Instead, I leaned in, letting my shoulder brush past Isla's. Just close enough to see the flame in her eyes dance. Close enough to feel her breath hitch, just slightly.

"Don't miss me too much, little sister," I whispered into her ear. "I'll be back in no time."

Then I exited Dormis Caelora.

'I'm glad I arrived before the entrance ceremony.'

The Selection Exams were a week ago and classes will begin next week after the Entrance ceremony.

The only reason Isla and I were already in school was because our barony was too far to go back and then come back.

Plus were already guaranteed enlistment, perks of being part of the elite class.

The only thing not guaranteed was our ranks which we had to earn on our own merit. I was still going to move out of Caelora either way since Ronan was lazy, and his low potential after awakening did not help things.

The two weeks in between for rank assignment and settling in, so most of my future classmates were not currently in school saving me the disgrace. Though other years were still in school, I didn't mind them.

'That means that I also have one week to ensure I get that relic.'

Realizing that time was not on my side, I quickly made my way to Kirell.

Kirell and Caelora were among the Seven, who pioneered humanity's fight against the demons when they got their curse abilities. It was obvious who was stronger from how their dorms were treated in the rankings.

It took me almost an hour to get there and I was glad I only packed the essentials and not everything I owned.

Dormis Kirell looked more like an old storage barracks than a residence. Weather-worn bricks, half-covered in moss, with crooked gutters that leaked even though it wasn't raining.

I pushed the door open.

Immediately, the air changed to musty, and stagnant, with the scent of too many bodies sharing too little space. Gone was the proper ventilation and the fresh citrus Caelora was scented with. My nose curled in disgust as I stepped inside.

I finally found my room, Room 12B. The brass number was half-scratched off, the door slightly crooked on its hinges. I opened the door slowly.

It was... small.

The bed was barely a frame, with a mattress that looked thinner than the parchment I used to write home with. The desk had one leg shorter than the others and wobbled as soon as I dropped my bag on it. No closet, just a metal hook on the wall.

I sat on the bed. It creaked like it was protesting my very existence.

I looked around again.

This was it. The bottom.

But I still had hope. My curse abilities, now two, that had to mean something right?

I closed my eyes, trying to access my runes.