while the whole world was busy with the preparations for Christmas and welcoming a new year in the month of December, Blake lying on the hospital bed with a ventilator in his mouth hanging by the thread of life.
With the rhythmic sounds of "Beep, beep, beep," echoing inside the sterile hospital room.
indicating the plummeting heart rate of Blake's, as the beeps slowed to a worrisome rhythm.
The doctors came in banging the door commanding the nurse with him through the tension.
"Nurse, prepare the defibrillator immediately! His heart rate has ceased!"
In response, the nurse swiftly adjusted the equipment. Her hands trembled as she worked, handing the two shockers to the doctor's hand.
"Set the defibrillator to 100 volts. On my count, 1, 2, 3," the doctor said, with urgency in his voice.
the next second doctor rubbed the both shockers together and pressed them onto Blake's bare chest.
while the electric shock coursed through his body, Blake's consciousness started to slowly slip away from his body, consumed by an unbearable agony.
Amidst the last threads of his consciousness, he found himself reflecting, "Am I destined to die after enduring so much?, I even worked so hard in my life I haven't even experienced love in this lifetime."
His thoughts whispered silently within the confines of his slipping mind.
"Is this the end? If there is a next life, I want a family too, I want to be strong and capable of overcoming any obstacle." the musing in his last hour was shaped by the novels he had devoured during his hospitalization, a bittersweet solace and hope of reincarnation during his terminal diagnosis.
The seconds ticked on, with each dropping heartbeat a fragile reminder of him dying.
Then, with the second sharp sound of electric shock reverberating from the defibrillator against his skin. The doctor gave his solemn confirmation echoed in the room, "He can't be saved, he's gone."
Lying in the slumber of death, Blake's eyes suddenly snapped open. He found himself immersed in an enveloping darkness, a void that rendered him immobile and void of light, like floating inside the water with hands and feet tied without any feeling of touch.
In the sudden shock of the moment, he said in his mind "Wh..what happened? Where the heck am I?" while averting his eyes, which is the only thing he can move at the moment, in all directions to see some way out.
In that abyss with his anxiety and fear of his unknown surroundings, suddenly a glimmer of light materialized in the distance, beckoning like a distant beacon.
Instinctively like a squid, mustering his strength to move his nonexisting self towards it.
With each exertion towards it, the light expanded, casting its glow on the path he forged. Closer and closer he drew until he reached the luminous cast.
There, two ethereal-like hands extended pulling him in the light, like reaching across the threshold between life and the afterlife, giving him his first sense of touch after months of stranding in utter darkness.
A sense of guidance emanated from them, and as Blake surrendered to their touch, voices of various tones and smells filled his senses.
"Your Highness, rejoice! The god 'Eru Ilúvatar' has graced our realm with a prince. The Queen came out of childbirth in good health," the midwives announced to the King, her voice resonating with happiness as she wrapped the newborn in long white cloth.
Impatient yet eager King hearing it came inside the room in a jiffy and, without wasting time commanded, "Hurry! Let me hold my son, that I may gaze upon his face."
King Rodrick De Von Valdyr, an imposing figure in his prime, radiated an air of regal authority with his tall frame, long golden hair his radiant amber eyes like fire opals, and commanding voice, with warm light skin.
Rodrick holding the child.
"A fine child, destined to elevate our realm to greater heights," murmured to himself, with his smiling expression saying his joy.
A gentle and sweet voice with a hint of exhaustion in it chimed in from behind.
"Darling, allow me to gaze upon our son as well." It was the voice of the Queen, 'Beatrice De Von Valdyr', still bearing the pallor of childbirth. Her strength had not wavered to her child's face.
She bore a gentle paleness from the exertion of childbirth, yet her beauty remained resolute—a noble daughter with amber hair, dark eyes, and fair skin with a hint of coolness.
"Honey, he bears your likeness, but have you chosen a name for our son?" Beatrice inquired; her eyes fixed on the precious bundle in her arms.
Confusion flooded Nathan's mind who was previously Blake as he found himself in an unfamiliar setting.
Questions churned within, a whirlwind of uncertainty. "Where am I? Am I seeing my life? No, the surroundings are too unfamiliar for these to be my memories. but didn't I die? And after that, something feels foggy" His thoughts were like running in a labyrinth going nowhere while still going somewhere.
In the confusion he tried to move his arms and tried to speak, with the surprise of his helplessness, he calmly said in his mind "I can't move nor words coming out of my mouth."
then after a few seconds of thinking with his small brain a single thought came into it, "It seems I truly died and been reborn. But where have I ended up?" in the conforming of his surroundings he absorbed the dialogue and way of talking exchanging between Rodrick and Beatrice, uncommon in the modern day.
A realization crystallized: this wasn't Earth, but an "Another world."
A cascade of considerations streamed through Nathan's mind, each question a tribute to his growing understanding and more questions.
"Did I meet the classic die and get a ticket to the fantasy realm with magic and swordplay or is it something else? Or did I stumble upon an ordinary world?" Contemplation unfurled like a map, and his surroundings began to unveil their secrets.
Amazement twinkled in his eyes, drawn by the midwives who seemed to bend reality with their words.
"Wait, did she just conjure flames beneath the water basin with a mere utterance? Is this... magic?" The conviction took root—this was indeed a realm intertwined with enchantment and blades.
Gazing at Rodrick and Beatrice, He whispered in his thoughts, "The woman and the man, they must be my parents. The maids calling them King and Queen suggests that I am born into royalty—a life draped in opulence. But what captivates me more is the prospect of wielding magic."
A smile curved on his lips, fueled by dreams of adventures yet to unfold. As his gaze flitted from one figure to another, racing his imagination for his future.
With newfound resolve, Nathan committed himself to unraveling the intricacies of this world—its magic, its aura, its secrets.