A mirror placed in the corner of a small room reflected the image of a young boy with messy black hair and beautiful hazel eyes, the handsome face of the youth contorted in an expression of bewilderment and doubt, as if shocked by his own appearance.
He had the right to feel that way, moments ago he was fighting against a group of bandits and lost his consciousness... no, he lost his life. But now not only was he alive and fully healed but also possessed the form of a young boy.
"What is happening..."
He inquired himself, not like it would help at all, only more and more questions arose, why was he in a different body? Why was he alive in the first place? Where was he?
His first thought was that some dark magician took hold of his soul and placed it in a young recipient to continue their revolting research on eternal life, but that would not explain a lot of things, such as his surroundings, they were too tidy and clean to be the lair of a mad magician, on top of that, he could clearly see the bustling streets of the town through his window. Although he did not recognize the citadel he was in, it could not be the town of choice for a black magician.
He was confused about a lot of things when glaring outside, the architecture of the buildings was very different from what he was used to, they also looked much more sophisticated and sturdy, as if generations upon generations have spent their life to complete the intricate design of those structures.
The room he found himself in was small, roughly 10 square metres of space, by no means was this bad, having lived a rough life he could only dream of sleeping in such a room for days upon days.
The bed took a lot of space but there was enough room left to safely move around, examining the interior of the room his eyes landed upon a small night stand, there was nothing on it except a worn out book, it instantly captivated him with the intricate golden pattern imprinted on its cover, the lines emanated a sense of awe, as if they were woven on the book with the help of some mystical powers.
Although his body was now young, his mind was that of a deadly veteran, his instincts alarmed him of an unknown power the book was emanating, but this only made him more intrigued by the contents of it, if only the cover exhibited such a domineering aura then this book must contain some bestial power, waiting to be unleashed.
With a sense of greed and curiosity he took a hold of the volume and with the help of his other hand the first page of the mysterious book was revealed before his eyes.
'Sword ---- Technique - Equinox.'
The title of the book was grazed, a word was indiscernible but the content of the book was clear from the few visible words, a sword technique, the name sent shivers down the reader's spine, the writing itself was clean and sublime, it seemed to have an inspiring effect on the boy.
He knitted his brow in a frown and proceeded to turn the page, despite the ragged appearance of the files they felt very durable. To his disappointmend, the second page was empty, he turned it a few times to make sure he was not mistaken but it really was blank.
'What a shame.'
But just as he was about to turn the page, a soft glint radiated from the top of the second page, golden writing started to impring itself on the fabric of the page. Watching in bewilderment, the boy's hands refused to close the book or turn the page, admiring the intricate golden writing that materialized on the page.
Once the whole page was full, he started reading in his mind, paying attention to each word used.
'Arian Lark, the last bearer of my divine mark, the last vestige of my fading essence, heed these words. In eons past, I stood among the pantheon, wielding the mightiest of powers. Yet an era ended, and with it, a god fell down.
You, my sole remaining devotee, stand as my last hope for redemption. You wished for power and here it is, within these ancient pages lies the legacy of my greatest technique.
In turn, keep your side of the promise.
May your blade sing the requiem that heralds the resurgence of my name.'
"..."
Arian was speechless, he tried to process everything he just read but straight from the start it was perplexing, his name was mentioned and then a message for him.
A grand mission was assigned to him and although the name of the deity was not mentioned he knew very well who was the author of this text. He turned the page back to the title page and squinted his eyes, a deep sense of sadness filled them as they shined with understanding.
"Sword God..."
From the short message that imprinted itself on the page he understood more about his situation, although they were only some speculations.
"You were once the strongest, but now... no one believes in you?"
He could not understand how could such a thing happen, when he was alive, the Sword God was the most revered deity among all 8, how could it be that now he was the only believer.
From the message given to him he deduced another thing, Arian was present in another timeline, a distant future where the Sword God's name has been forgotten. He felt like a part of him was lost as well, the teachings of the Sword God promoted the way of the blade, one's mind should be sharp and thoughtful, unflinching in the face of danger and evil, yet all those teachings were lost, no one believed in them anymore.
But this only strenghtened his will more, he was given the chance to be the one to recover the lost prestige of his deity, he tightened the book in his hands, not too hard as he was afraid to damage such a treasure.
'I will not dissapoint you my Lord.'
This is the time where he was brought back to reality, his body was not that of a seasoned warrior anymore, but a young child, probably 17 years of age, his body was frail and looked rather weak, no scars were present on the boy's pristine skin, as if he was a sculpture yet to be shaped.
"Right... i should first find out where the fuck am i."