Ronal's consciousness drifted, caught between the realms of life and death. He felt an inexplicable sensation as his very being seemed to be unraveling, his existence dissolving into an otherworldly void. Time lost its meaning, and he was suspended in a liminal state, no longer confined by the physical constraints of the valley.
As Ronal's perception wavered between reality and unreality, memories and fragments of his journey flashed before him. He saw moments of despair and moments of triumph, the choices he had made, and the lessons he had learned. It was as if his entire life had been condensed into a tapestry of experiences.
Amidst this kaleidoscope of memories, a voice resonated—a whisper that seemed to emanate from the very essence of his being. It was a voice that held both familiarity and enigma, a voice that seemed to belong to a force beyond mortal comprehension.
"Ronal," the voice murmured, its resonance sending ripples through the fabric of his consciousness. "Your journey is far from over."
Ronal's consciousness wavered between the realms of memory and reality, and with a deep breath, he willed himself to fully awaken. He felt a surge of energy ripple through his being, like a ripple spreading across the surface of a pond. Slowly, he opened his eyes, blinking away the remnants of his dreamlike state.
The world around him came into focus, and his heart skipped a beat as he took in the lush expanse of the dense forest. The canopy of leaves overhead cast intricate patterns of light and shadow on the ground, creating a mesmerizing dance that seemed to welcome him to this new reality.
As he attempted to sit up, he was struck by a strange sensation—a subtle shift in his body. He looked down, his eyes widening in disbelief as he beheld a pair of small hands, the delicate fingers adorned with a childlike innocence. His breath caught in his throat as he realized the impossible: he had been reborn into the body of a young child.
Ronal's mind raced, trying to comprehend the enormity of this transformation. He flexed his fingers, his gaze sweeping over his own form—his child-sized arms, his legs clad in simple garments, and the forest floor beneath him, which suddenly seemed vast and mysterious.
As he absorbed the shock of his new reality, the echoes of the voice lingered in his ears. It was the same voice that had guided him through the liminal state between life and death—the voice that held a message of purpose and continuation. It seemed that this was the next chapter of his journey, an unexpected twist that defied comprehension.
Ronal's lips parted, his voice barely more than a whisper as he spoke aloud to himself, testing the sound of his own words in this youthful voice. "What... what has happened?"
The forest responded with a symphony of sounds—the rustling of leaves, the distant calls of birds, and the soft murmur of a nearby stream. It was as if the world itself was trying to provide him with answers.
With cautious steps, Ronal navigated through the forest, his child-sized limbs adapting to the environment with an instinctual grace. Though he had the physical form of a child, his mind retained the wisdom and experiences of his previous life. Memories of his past self intertwined with the innocence and wonder of his newfound youth, creating a unique blend of perspectives that allowed him to perceive the world around him in a way he never had before.
As he ventured deeper into the forest, he began to notice subtle differences in the flora and fauna. Strange, fantastical creatures roamed between the trees, and vibrant, otherworldly flowers bloomed along the path. It became evident that this was no ordinary forest; it was a place where the boundaries between reality and imagination blurred, where the fabric of the world seemed to be woven with threads of magic.
After roaming for a few hours, Ronal found his way out of the forest, where the towering trees gradually gave way to a tranquil expanse of rolling hills and meadows. In the distance, nestled against the backdrop of the horizon, he saw the comforting sight of a small village. Smoke spiraled from chimneys, and the faint hum of life reached his ears, drawing him closer with an irresistible allure.
As Ronal approached the village, he couldn't help but marvel at the diverse inhabitants who bustled about their daily activities, what truly captured his attention were the beings unlike any he had encountered before.
Horned individuals with elegant antlers adorned their heads, their eyes gleaming with a mixture of caution and curiosity. Tailed figures moved gracefully, their tails swaying with each step as they conversed with others. Winged beings soared above, casting fleeting shadows on the ground, their feathers shimmering in the sunlight.
As Ronal entered the village, the atmosphere grew hushed, and a palpable sense of awe spread through the air. The villagers exchanged hushed whispers in fear and sidelong glances, their demeanor a mixture of fear and respect. It was clear to Ronal that his presence had stirred something profound within them, something beyond mere curiosity.
Then suddenly one old man who looked like village chief bend on his knees and greeted Ronal with fear "M-My L-Lord why did you came to visit the habitat of the lower demon's, if we have committed some mistake please forgive us", hearing this all the passerby all bend their knees and greeted him in fear.
Ronal stood there, his young eyes widening at the unexpected reverence bestowed upon him. He had no memory of being any kind of lord, and yet the villagers' words suggested a connection he couldn't fathom and also they said that they were lesser demons.
Suddenly same voice transmitted in his mind that he heard while dying "Only higher demon can take form of humans without any defect, so the villagers think that you are a higher demon, also they did not think about you as a mere five years old child because higher demons can change their forms and no higher demon will let their child roam outside freely before they reach 14 years old".
Ronal was surprised by the sudden voice in his head but he did not show it outside, Ronal did not clear the misunderstanding of the villagers and just nodded his head, he looked at the old man and asked " I want a place to live, is it possible to arrange it for me?".
Hearing this old man together with some fear suddenly said " Y-Yes My Lord I will take you there".
Ronal followed the old man through the village, his thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. The village's belief in his higher demon status was a double-edged sword—it granted him their reverence, but it also meant he had to navigate a delicate balance between their expectations and his own desires.
They arrived at a quaint cottage nestled at the edge of the village, surrounded by a small garden bursting with vibrant flowers. The old man hesitated at the door, his eyes downcast. "This humble dwelling is at your service, My Lord. It may not befit your station, but it is offered with the utmost respect."
Ronal placed a reassuring hand on the old man's shoulder, his eyes warm with gratitude. "Thank you. This is more than I could have asked for. I am honored to accept your hospitality."
The old man's eyes widened, surprise mingling with relief. "It is our duty to serve, My Lord. If there is anything you require, do not hesitate to ask. The village is at your disposal."