Parameter XR: Echo of Another Life

Episode 2: https://www.patreon.com/posts/parameter-xr-of-139919982

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Part 1

Through the murmur of voices, intricately woven into the music of the evening ball, I could barely make out the sound of my own breathing. The grand hall of the Stiveyr Castle, my home since birth in this world, shimmered with golden reflections of magical lanterns. The patterns on the walls shifted, echoing the sparkle of gemstones in the attire of the gathered guests. Lavish gowns, formal doublets, smiles stretched as tight as the corsets.

But I remembered that I had once lived in another world.

Michael Stevenson — a schoolboy from New York. A test, the noise of the classroom, the squeaking of a marker on the board... Then a blinding flash, and I woke up as an infant. Here. In the body of the third prince of the Kingdom of Stiveyr. Fifteen years had passed since then, and I had grown used to this new life — the magic, the title, the duties — as much as one could, considering I still clearly remembered who I had been.

Tonight was the evening after the Ceremony of Essence Revelation — an event that determined the fate of all noble children in the kingdom. A magical crystal revealed talents: mana capacity, life force, spiritual connections — a whole list of parameters defining who you would become.

My results were high, as expected of a prince, but in truth, they were even too high. However, one parameter... one gift was beyond understanding. That strange parameter — "XR=9" — had appeared on the magical crystal the moment my essence was scanned. The Council of Mages exchanged puzzled glances, whispering among themselves, but found no explanation. My father, King Alen Stiveyr, remained silent, though I noticed the shift in his expression. The usually soft, warm gaze he reserved for me and my brothers turned thoughtful. But not cold. More like... perplexed?

Among the many gifts granted to me, that strange parameter, XR=9, seemed lost in the sea of other, far more impressive results. A vast mana pool, a rare third-tier spiritual connection, resistance to curses — the crystal practically radiated with the revealed abilities, and it was this brilliance that became the subject of conversation.

The Council of Mages was in awe. The ball's guests — enchanted.

And now, with the formalities over and the feast underway, I stood here, smiling — just enough to meet expectations. Slight bows, polite phrases, obligatory compliments.

Another duke. Another lady, sighing in admiration over "the magnificence of my mana." It all felt mechanical, almost mindless, yet every gesture, every word, was calculated to perfection.

Because I am Thaleus Stiveyr — a prince. The third, perhaps, but still of royal blood. Here, in the heart of Stiveyr Castle, I had to radiate the strength and authority of my lineage.

But inside... Inside, a tight, cold knot pressed beneath my ribs. My heart beat slightly faster than it should. My hands, hidden beneath my gloves, trembled ever so slightly.

Nervousness? Yes. But there was something else. That strange gift was not mine alone. Lady Elianora Worthwing. The eldest daughter of a duke, who was the same age as me, and whose crystal had shown the same result.

A coincidence? Or... Could she be someone from my real world? I had to speak with her. I had to find out. Even though fifteen long years had passed and my face was different, and she likely wouldn’t recognize me. Even I doubted it... And yet.

Among the dazzling gowns of noble ladies, her dress stood out with restrained elegance: deep black velvet with silver embroidery, intricate patterns of shimmering threads — radiant, yet not ostentatious. Her dark hair was styled into a perfect cascade adorned with a pearl diadem, and around her neck glistened a silver and light quartz necklace with a massive cross, the ancient symbol of House Worthwing.

Lady Elianora approached me slowly, accompanied by her father — a tall, silver-haired man with a stern face and the cold eyes of someone accustomed to power.

She stopped a step away, lowered her gaze, and curtsied — perfect, flawless, as royal etiquette demanded. Her movements were impeccable: smooth, graceful, filled with refined femininity, as if this entire evening had been made for moments like these.

— Your Highness, — her voice was melodic, yet measured. Respectful. Dutiful. Everything palace manners required.

I inclined my head in response, coolly polite, as my status dictated.

— Lady Elianora. Duke Worthwing. An honor to see you in our home this evening. Your house is renowned for its magical crystal mines. I trust good news from your lands continues to please the kingdom.

— Certainly, Your Highness, — the Duke responded, his voice deep and commanding.

Elianora only offered a slight nod, lowering her eyes again, as a modest lady of her station should.

Everything was as usual. Familiar words. Familiar phrases. Another formality... All of it felt absurd, and I could not risk my reputation. However—

Quietly, barely above a whisper, I leaned closer, speaking in a way even her father could not hear:

— Do you remember Mr. Caldwell's math test? — I said in perfect English, a language no one used here.

I almost regretted it instantly. Too blunt. Too obvious. But—

Elianora's eyes widened. Her fingers clenched the fabric of her dress. She inhaled too sharply, and her lower lip trembled just slightly.

Now I was sure. Or almost sure that this girl was my classmate. But who? None of the girls in my class had such manners, such grace, such... elegance.

Part 2

Elianora quickly lowered her gaze, restoring her mask of flawless composure, and stepped back as the rules required.

— Your Highness, — she said, her voice soft but slightly quieter than before. — Thank you for the honor of this conversation.

She curtsied again, perfectly, preparing to leave. Her father gave a approving nod, already moving to offer his hand to escort her away, but I—

— Lady Elianora, — the words escaped before I could stop them. — If I may...

Elianora’s father raised an eyebrow slightly but remained silent. Several pairs of eyes nearby discreetly turned toward us — continuing a conversation with a lady who had already been presented was... unusual.

My father, King Alen, watching me from a distance, met my gaze. But to my surprise, he only gave a slight nod. Tonight was a celebration, and even a prince was permitted to bend the rules — a little.

— I would like to take a short walk, — I added calmly, speaking both to the duke and my father before turning directly to Elianora. — Lady, would you care to join me?

I tried to sound gentle, but it probably came off almost like a command. After all, I was a prince. Yet it did not break etiquette.

— Of course, Your Highness, — Elianora curtsied once more, her lashes trembling slightly, yet her poise remained impeccable.

She placed her hand lightly on mine, just as custom dictated. Her fingers were cool, and with each step, I could feel the tension between us rising.

I led her toward one of the side galleries, hidden behind the columns. The music of the ball drifted faintly, softened by the thick stone walls. The magical crystals in the lanterns glowed with a dim, bluish light, casting soft shadows on the marble floor. The space was private enough, yet if anyone approached, their footsteps would echo in time for us to react.

Elianora walked beside me, her steps soft yet precise, as if rehearsed a hundred times over. But now, seeing her up close, I noticed how her shoulders were just a touch tenser than suited a lady so flawless.

I stopped and released her hand.

It felt so strange. And yet so impossible. Could it really be...

At that moment, Elianora turned toward me, and the cold dignity in her eyes was gone. Her gaze narrowed, lips trembling slightly.

— What... what did you just say? — Her voice was quiet but strained, slipping into lower, raspier notes that didn't match her previous elegance.

But that wasn't what shocked me the most.

She had spoken in English.

I barely held my breath, heart pounding faster.

— You... you understand me? — I whispered slowly, also in English, watching her face closely.

Elianora froze. Her eyes widened, then narrowed with suspicion.

— Who are you? — her voice dropped lower, tighter, as if the words were difficult to force out. Gone was the perfect aristocratic intonation.

I swallowed hard.

— I... I'm Michael Stevenson, — I exhaled, clenching my jaw, then added bitterly, — New York. Mr. Caldwell’s class. Algebra test.

Silence.

Elianora stood still. Her lips parted, gaze flicking over my face as though trying to match my words with the figure before her — a prince, dressed in a doublet embroidered with silver, royal crests shining on my chest, chin held high.

And then—

— W-what?!

A loud, almost hoarse laugh burst from her, so sudden and sharp that I blinked, stepping back in confusion.

She buried her face in her hands and... laughed. Loudly, openly, so unexpectedly that her voice echoed through the gallery, nearly drowning out the music from the ballroom.

Elianora — though now I was certain that wasn't her real name — kept laughing, head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut as if I had just told the funniest joke of her life. Her fingers clutched at the fabric of her corset, her shoulders shaking as she doubled over, clutching her stomach.

— M-Michael? You? — she choked out between fresh bursts of laughter. — A prince?! The fucking third prince? I mean, come on... — she wheezed again, struggling to catch her breath, even wiping the corner of her eye with a shaky hand. — YOU?!

Slowly, very slowly, I furrowed my brows.

— Hey, actually—

She raised a hand, cutting me off, still fighting her uncontrollable laughter.

— S-sorry... sorry, just... — She straightened, inhaling sharply. — You were... God, you couldn’t even hit the basket in gym class, and now... a prince? The doublet, the manners, the bows? This is... what is this, a comedy?

I felt my ears burning.

But that laugh, that way of speaking — there was no mistaking it.

— David? — I whispered, blinking. — It... it’s you, isn’t it?

Her laughter gradually faded, but a smirk remained on her lips, though now there was something sharper behind it. Something almost painful.

She stepped closer, eyes boring into mine with such intensity it sent a shiver down my spine.

— Yeah, Michael. It’s me, — her voice — no, his voice — was rougher now, the aristocratic polish completely gone. — Damn, this is... weird.

I didn’t know what to say. The entire evening, the ceremony, the pomp of the royal court — it all seemed to fade in the face of what I had just discovered.

Standing before me was my best friend from the old world... in the body of a noble lady, with that same sharpness in their gaze that I knew too damn well.

— How... how is this possible? — I whispered, heart racing. — Why—

— You think I know? — David’s — or rather, Elianora’s — voice cracked with frustration. — I woke up as a freaking baby in some noble mansion, and as if that wasn’t enough—

She threw up her hands, voice rising.

— Do you have any idea how messed up it was to realize I’d become a girl?! Lady Elianora Worthwing, eldest daughter of one of the most powerful dukes! — She gave an exaggerated, sarcastic curtsy, rolling her eyes. — And then came the cursed etiquette lessons, the dancing, the corsets, the damn magical crystals!

Part 3

— Damn, David... I mean... Elianora? — I froze, feeling the words catch in my throat, my heartbeat pounding somewhere in my ears.

She remained standing across from me, frowning. Her eyes, still shimmering from the traces of recent laughter, suddenly shifted.

— Yeah, damn it... Elianora, — she exhaled, but her voice was quieter now, more strained, something glistening there, catching the soft glow of the magical crystals along the gallery walls. She inhaled sharply, blinking too fast. — You... you really are Michael? Is this... is this real?

I nodded, unable to force out a word. What could you say in a moment like this?

She pressed a hand to her lips, her gaze darting across my face as if searching for proof in every feature of this new body. A tear slipped from her lashes, and suddenly, she clenched her fists, lowering her head.

— God... — her voice trembled. — I... I thought I’d never see anyone again. Thought I was alone. That everyone... everyone just... disappeared...

Elianora let out a shaky breath but bit her lip, struggling to stay composed. I could see how her shoulders trembled, her hands clenched so tightly her knuckles whitened.

— Michael... — she whispered, voice breaking before she straightened, slowly wiping the dampness from her cheeks. — I... I’m so fucking glad to see you. Really.

I wanted to say something, anything, but at that moment, soft yet confident footsteps echoed nearby.

— Ah, there you are, brother, — a familiar, lilting voice rang out.

I turned and saw Alissia — my younger sister. That carefully cultivated aristocratic haughtiness was etched into every inch of her expression, trained since childhood. A pale blue gown, golden curls in an intricate twist, and that look...

Oh yes. That look she gave Elianora was unmistakable.

— Oh, you must be Lady Worthwing? — Alissia spoke with a graceful smile, but there was a poisonous edge to it. — I don't believe we've been formally introduced yet.

For a heartbeat, I thought everything was about to fall apart, that this would turn unbearably awkward, but...

Elianora, who had just been laughing and letting her tears show, transformed in a matter of seconds so swiftly and seamlessly that calling me shocked would be an understatement. She now stood tall, her posture once again flawless, shoulders perfectly squared, chin slightly raised, and on her lips bloomed a cold, impeccable smile. Polite. Restrained. Yet with such a touch of aristocratic pride that, for a moment, I doubted — had my friend David really been standing before me just seconds ago?

— Your Highness, — her voice was melodic again, soft and measured, completely different from the raw emotion seconds earlier. A smooth, practiced motion followed as she dipped into a perfect curtsy before Alissia. — It is a great honor to be presented to you. I am Lady Elianora Worthwing, eldest daughter of Duke Worthwing. Please forgive me that such an important introduction was delayed until now.

I saw Alissia's eyebrow lift slightly — a subtle gesture, but I knew my sister well enough. She was disappointed. She had wanted to catch Elianora in an awkward slip, to find a crack in her composure.

— Ah... of course, — Alissia replied, though her smile was tight, almost forced. — I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know that our dear Thaleus rarely grants such attention to the ladies.

Her tone remained soft, but the implication...

Elianora responded with another graceful curtsy, deeper this time.

— It is an honor, Your Highness. Your brother, as befits a prince of royal blood, has shown rare kindness. I was merely returning courtesy with courtesy.

Damn. How does she do that?

I caught myself staring at Elianora with a new sense of admiration. Every word, every movement was polished to perfection. Just minutes ago, she had been laughing herself breathless, snorting at jokes — and now? Now she was the picture of noble grace.

David. Damn it, David. How long did you train to pull this off?

Alissia noticed it too. Her expression tightened, though her dazzling smile remained fixed in place.

— Of course. However, the evening ball continues, and there are still many esteemed guests awaiting an audience with my brother, — her hand rested lightly on my arm, and I felt her fingers press just a bit too firmly into the fabric of my doublet.

Elianora lowered her head slightly, this time with a more deliberate swiftness.

— Naturally, Your Highness. Thank you for your time.

She stepped back with perfect grace, once again the epitome of noble refinement. But for just a heartbeat, her gaze met mine. And in that gaze... there was something. Something only I could understand.

Something like: We need to talk... but not here.

Then she turned and walked away, leaving behind only the faint scent of delicate perfume and the lingering sense of something unsaid.

I stood there, watching her retreat, unable to fully process what I’d just witnessed.

How?

How had he — no, she — no, damn it, David — managed to master this so completely? Every word, every move... This wasn’t the same awkward classmate who cracked jokes about algebra tests.

I kept staring until she disappeared beyond the columns, then slowly turned back toward Alissia.

— What was that, Alissia? — I exhaled, meeting her gaze.

She tilted her head slightly, expression calm, almost serene.

— Just looking out for you, dear brother. You seemed... a bit too taken with that lady.

— You could’ve been a little kinder, — I replied, struggling to keep my voice even.

— Oh, I was perfectly kind, — she lifted her chin, though her tone softened. — I'm simply concerned for your reputation. Don’t forget who you are. Lady Worthwing is the heiress of one of the strongest ducal houses. And rumors... they spread quickly.

I clenched my jaw.

Rumors. Of course.

But right now, rumors were the least of my concerns.

Because I still saw her face. Not Lady Elianora.

David.

And I needed to find out what the hell had happened to both of us.