First chapter of L the magnificent

L

The Magnificent

A story of ill fortune.

Chapter 1

Cursed.

The first thing he noted was the insect.

It was just a small thing, unassuming, almost uninteresting to look at.

A dull red carapace, thin transparent wings underneath a shell that split in irritation while it buzzed angrily before flying off.

Little more than some peculiar specimen of beetle.

The problem wasn't the insect however, it was the fact that it had been there, on him.

He felt it then, felt! He felt....alive?

No...that wasn't quite the term for it.

Surely he felt something, but alive was hardly the way it could be described, more akin to the sensation between life and death.

Yet the more he strained to think about it and process his situation, the more distant his thoughts became, until they too fragmented into nothing, leaving emptiness.

Yet that one moment, that singular instance, had been just enough to get him to realize one thing in particular.

Something was horribly wrong.

His body shouldn't be stilled like this.

His breaths should be issuing forth from his chest.

Yet the more he tried, the less he could.

It was as though he was indeed deceased, dead in all but name, but no.

it was some manner of stasis, a stasis that froze the very thoughts and emotions within the body, a stasis that froze the body as well.

One thought did flicker across his mind then.

His name had been stolen.

Eventually, all capacity for rational thought deteriorated, and he was again little more than an unthinking, undying vegetable, his soul held in a state of absolute stagnation.

He didn't know where he was, or why he was, or if up was down.

He simply was.

Years passed in what felt like the blink of an eye, seasons passed over his body, the wintry chill, the warmth of spring, the dullness of fall and the monotonous heat of summer.

And through it all, one thing remained consistent.

He could not die, nor could he live.

Frozen, frozen in time perhaps, but ceased.

His body was not stone, but his soul was surely frozen, and though he was a flesh and blood being at this moment in time, that too was tentative.

Enough time in this state, and he would petrify, but it wouldn't be the same as death.

Death was reserved for the living and the dead, here? Now? He was neither.

Cursed perhaps, but not dead.

And the few thoughts that crossed his mind could only vainly try to piece together what happened as what felt like ages passed before his eyes in the mere batting of an eyelash.

Two men crossed before his vision, and though he couldn't even move his eyes, he saw them clearly enough.

“there he is.” one began, this one a distinguished looking fellow sporting a thick beard, a sword at his side as he looked the cursed one over.

“just as it was said, frozen, nameless.”

“it's rare when cases such as this present themselves.” the distinguished looking man continued. “his body will be worth a king's ransom in coin should we present him to a local mage.”

“Here now! What's this “we” about?” came the other man's snarling reply, and had the cursed one been able to even speak, he would have shouted in horror for the other man to look out.

Sadly, he could not, and so the dagger ascended into the man's ribcage with ease.

Such ease...

falling to his knees the distinguished man drew his sword and cut the other man in half, spitting out his own blood in shock.

If he could turn away from the gristly sight, he surely would have.

However, even as the man spat up too much of his own blood, a look of utter shock overcoming him, he happened to glance up at the cursed one and offered him a warm smile before falling to the dead leaves, his blood splashing them a gentle crimson.

And through it all, the cursed one could only ask “why” however, it took more of his mental fortitude than he cared to admit, and just after gathering that singular thought, he fell back into the dizzying half-sentient state once again.

Back into the strange curse that left him nameless and frozen.

And so the rotting of their corpses was mercifully behind him, for years passed before he could regain his capacity to even process the environment, and by the time he had, the bodies had become little more than bleached remains, bones, most of which had been carried off by various predators.

No beast would touch him however, for they didn't even register his presence.

He gave off no scent, and even if he had, his flesh would not nourish the creatures, this they knew instinctively.

Many seasons passed, and as they did so he remained cursed, perhaps for hundreds of years, perhaps only for a few dozen, he simply couldn't be certain.

A chill winter managed to maintain his otherwise finite attention span even as his capacity to focus blinked on and off, an entire day could pass in the breadth of a second and he'd barely notice the transition.

Regardless, he couldn't move, even as the creatures of the forest began moving closer to him, grouping around his still form without him really registering their presence, let alone the fact that animals typically didn't behave in the fashion that these now did.

Rabbits, deer, wolves, small badgers, all gathered around his form, his ragged torn clothes, weathered to almost nothing, barely representative of the magnificent splendor of a life long since lost to whatever revelations had driven him to this most curious of conditions.

Through it all, he felt only a profound comfort from their presence, for he still didn't quite register their presence, let alone the implications.

When fairies too, began joining the procession, as well as lithe elves, all gathering about him in deference, his mind slowly began to register that something was taking place here.

Something of great importance.

The crowds of animals and fey stayed in place throughout the next few weeks, the wolves and carnivores being fed by the elves and fairies, while the herbivores would leave to feed.

All watched him intently.

One night, when It felt as though the entire forest had gathered around him, something did come to greet him.

She stepped out of a glorious glowing golden portal, her form embroidered in golden satin, golden gems and jewels so marvelous and magnificent that they even cast their own magical glow as she strode past the denizens of the forest that had called her here.

Atop her head she wore a splendid golden tiara etched with countless fortunes of saintly men and women, fortunes and lucky numbers and symbols of both good fortune and ill fortune.

Through it all, her eyes were perhaps the most beautiful part of her, filled with love and compassion, even as she knelt before the man, placing a ring covered hand over his forehead as she considered him.

Gems and lucky scrolls hung from her form at every possible interval, and she glowed with her own radiance while she studied him.

“so this is the one?” she mused to herself, pulling out a set of dice from her glowing golden robes, her raven black hair spilling over her shoulders as she moved closer to him, gazing deep into his eyes.

“he's almost gone too..” she lamented.

Taking his chin in her hand, she put the dice in front of his vision.

“let's see if your fortune holds up.” she said with a grin.

Rolling the dice, she frowned as she held them up for him to see, for they'd fallen to the ground shortly after she rolled them.

“looks grim.” she explained, showing him the snake eyes.

The creatures of the forest began crying out at that and she patted her hand on the air, bidding them to silence.

“it's not over yet, I came here today to change your fortunes! Let's see what happens when I roll the dice through you?”

taking the dice, she placed them in his hand, cupping his fingers around them, for he couldn't do it himself.

Releasing his hand, she watched as they rolled the same result and frowned when they fell to the dirt and leaves, glancing back up at him, confused.

“well this isn't good at all.” she muttered.

“what if.....you had a name?” she asked, and though he couldn't respond, something within him desperately desired that.

“from this day forth, I shall call you....lucky, lucky the magnificent. But only if you can roll double sixes.” she explained. “it's quite the gamble, obtaining a name for a bit of luck?”

she rolled the dice once more, but this time they rolled double twos and she frowned once more.

“today simply isn't your lucky day is it? Fear not! We'll get to the bottom of this madness!”

she took out a scroll, a scroll that glowed with every symbol of good fortune imaginable, as though it was a scroll made of pure fortune.

“I rarely utilize this.” she explained.

“But you need a name to lift this curse, and since your old one is lost to you, then we must instead give you a new name...and this, the thirteenth of friday, haldusa, shall be your name day, and the only day that you'll ever experience ill fortune.”

she chanted quietly, building up the golden glow of the scroll until the glow fully covered his entire form.

With a snap of her fingers, the glow dissipated, and though he remained unchanged, he breathed, slowly inhaling the cold night air as his eyes darted around in confusion, his curse somewhat lifted, though her work was hardly finished.

“the day of your rebirth has officially passed not a mere second ago.” she explained.

“Now roll the dice, and make my bet assured.” she commanded, handing him the dice, which he took with shaking fingers, unsure of himself, let alone the bizarre turn of events that led to his renewed sentience.

Rolling the dice, he dropped them without meaning to, and as he did so, they struck the ground with a dry huff.

double sixes showed in the thin night air, drawing a smile from her as she waved her hand, gracing his form with magic that renewed the strength of his flesh and cleansed his musketeer clothing of any wear and tear it might have suffered during his curse.

“Welcome to the world of the living, lucky the magnificent!” she exclaimed with a smile, embracing him.

“who?” he managed to gasp.

“your new name, that is until you find the old one that was stolen.” she explained, rising and bringing him to his feet while she adjusted the hat, a wide brimmed thing of red velvet, set with a golden feather.

His hands were sheathed in white gloves, and his red coat shone brilliantly with small gems she'd magically placed on his body.

His boots were black leather boots with small golden plates lining the front, truly he looked the part of an eccentric musketeer and wanderer.

She guided him out of the forest, explaining the situation to him as she went, first introducing herself as none other than lady luck, the goddess of fortune, both good and ill.

It was she who noted his plight and had taken pity on him, but she could only visit him on this day specifically, hence why the animals had taken such measures to even be there.

She'd promised to bless them upon her arrival, and so she had.

Once she'd taken him to the edge of the forest, she pointed to a splendid glowing castle off on the horizon, a castle that took up much of the horizon and was a vibrant wonder to behold, for it was almost akin to an illusion comprised entirely of light.

“why can't I remember this place?” lucky asked as he stood next to the goddess.

“Those memories were tied to your old name, if you want them, get that name back.” she explained.

“Is that all? Just find someone who recognizes me and-” she took his hat off, rubbing his golden hair affectionately before replacing it, completely derailing his train of thought in the process.

“It's not as simple as being told your name lucky, your soul's identity was stolen, it's rare when one has the power to do this. Rarer still when one actually manages it. Those who have their name stolen become frozen in time, incapable of living, of existing. Your willpower alone kept your soul from freezing, in fact, that's what caught my attention to begin with.”
“so....what do I do to find my name?” he asked in exasperation.

“Find the one who stole it.”

she gestured to the castle off in the distance.

“even should you meet people you once knew, they will never remember you, to have your name stolen is to have your very existence taken from the minds of others. I count no less than twelve friends you once held in that town beyond, friends who never met the man you once were once your name was taken. Though it has been sixty years...”

“sixty years?” he asked in shock, wheeling around only to find the goddess of fortune had simply...vanished.

Though on the ground before him was a golden coin with the number seven etched into its face.

“I suppose we'll meet again.” he sighed, and started off into the night for the glowing castle, completely unsure of where his journey would take him.