Three days passed. Everything went on as usual: classes, lunch, Alexia's affection. I wasn't thinking about anything anymore, just enjoying the moment while Alexia scratched my hair.

  Suddenly, a massive black-haired man barged into the cafeteria. He looked about forty, but you could feel the mix of human and elf in his blood—imposing and exhausted.

  I was lying there peacefully, blissed out from her hands running through my hair. He marched up, sat down right across from us, and, without a single word, forcefully slapped Alexia's hand away from my head.

  I snapped out of it instantly. "Hey, man, what's your problem?"

  He laughed, looking like he'd just found an old friend he'd been searching for forever. "Greg! It's me, Planus!" He looked at me with sheer relief.

  "Um... don't know anyone by that name," I said. "What do you want?"

  "They confiscated your book," he spoke rapidly, "but they let me see you. I'm late. I'm sorry, Greg."

  "Late for what? And who the hell is Planus? I don't know you."

  He leaned in, dropping his voice. "Greg, you're not an idiot, right? You already realize this isn't your first time living?"

  I thought about it. "Mmm... no, pretty sure it's my first."

  He shook his head. "Alright. I'm your great-nephew. You are my great-great-grandfather."

  "What? What great-great-grandfather? Man, are you right in the head?" I asked, feeling absolutely bewildered.

  "Face the truth, Greg."

  Suddenly, he reached out and scratched my head in a very specific way—exactly as if he had done it a thousand times before. Instantly, all the warmth, all the bliss came rushing back. I closed my eyes. This affection was a thousand times more potent than Alexia's.

  He pulled his hand back and shot Alexia a highly suspicious glare, but right then, the Guards burst into the cafeteria.

  "That's enough! Planus! Your time is up!"

  They surrounded him. The man (Planus) resisted. As they hauled him away, he shouted back at me: "I'll see you again! And I'll have the book with me!"

  I sat there, watching them drag him off. "What's the big deal," I muttered, rubbing my head. "If he has the book?"

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Alexia and Lianel pounced on me with questions the second the Guards took Planus away.

  "Greg! Who was that?!" "He said you're his great-great-grandfather! Is that true?" "Do you have kids?! You said you were only fifteen!" "What book?!"

  There were a lot of questions, and absolutely zero answers. I sat there rubbing the spot Planus had scratched, feeling my brain start to boil.

  "I don't know," I kept repeating. "First time I've ever seen the guy. Great-great-grandfather? I'm fifteen, man!"

  "But that's Planus!" Alphus suddenly chimed in, having listened to the whole exchange with pure awe. "I heard he's some kind of great hero. Rumor has it he shattered a mountain with a single strike."

  "See!" Lianel exclaimed. "That means you really are hiding something!"

  Right then, Anna sat down at our table. She sat directly across from me, her gaze tense and dead serious.

  "What did you want from my grandfather?" she asked quietly.

  I looked at her, then thought about Planus. "What? Planus is your grandpa?" I asked, flabbergasted.

  "Yes," she nodded. "He is Magister Planus."

  "I don't know," I said honestly. "He just mumbled something about a book being taken from him."

  Anna frowned. She realized I was telling the truth. Too many secrets. She stood up without another word and left.

  I looked at the princesses, then at Alphus. "Normal day. I just found out I'm somebody's great-great-grandfather, and my sparring-buddy is the granddaughter of some Magister." I picked up my spoon. "Alright, that's enough. Time to eat."

  The next day, when I tried to get up, my head was ringing with a horrific buzz. It hurt so much I could barely stand.

  "Greg! What is wrong with you?!" yelled Alphus, who was already dressed.

  "I don't know," I rasped, clutching my temples. "My head is splitting."

  "Look in the mirror!" he said in sheer horror.

  I walked over to the mirror and involuntarily recoiled. A nightmare. Most of my hair was pitch black. But a quarter of my mane was now streaked with red. Like paint bleeding through water. And my eyes... The absolute blackness was slowly retreating. Both eyes were now filling with red. Blood and fire.

  "Greg, are you possessed?!" Alphus whispered, backing away.

  "No, I don't know," I said quickly. "Just tell them I got sick. Really sick. I definitely shouldn't be seen right now."

  I realized something was changing.

  By evening, the red veins had completely consumed the blackness in my eyes, and my head felt like it was on fire. Alexia and Lianel rushed in. They looked at me in horror.

  "Greg! What is wrong with your hair?! And your eyes?!" Lianel exclaimed.

  "Are you possessed?" Alexia asked anxiously.

  "I don't know," I groaned. "My head is buzzing."

  Suddenly the door opened, and Anna walked in. Seeing me, she stood absolutely stunned. A flicker of recognition flashed in her eyes, instantly replaced by deep alarm.

  "Hey," I said, trying to sound calm. "I'm just sick. It'll fix itself later, don't worry."

  Anna turned and left without a single word.

  Alexia reached out to scratch my head to calm me down, but the moment her hand got close, my hair caught fire. Not a massive blaze, but a distinct, physical flame. And my scalp was burning. Oddly enough, it felt kind of pleasant, yet at the same time, something deep inside me violently rejected being touched. An instinctual repulsion.

  But Alexia didn't give up. She conjured a thin magical barrier around her hand and, ignoring the heat, slowly pushed her hand right into the fire. Her fingers touched my scalp.

  The fire began to die down. My internal aggression, completely opposed to the touch, retreated.

  "Fascinating," Alexia said, continuing to carefully scratch my hair.

  Lianel, seeing this, just shook her head but didn't intervene.