"The room was shrouded in darkness, only the moonlight filtering through the half-drawn curtains. Erevan Marmaric opened his eyes, regaining consciousness in a room all too familiar to him. It was his chamber in Aynor, the city where he had grown up before leaving to join the Imperial Academy of Gammalon.

He sat up abruptly, gasping for air, his hand instinctively reaching for his pendant, the same pendant that had been his protective amulet throughout his life... But he was dead! He was sure of it. The academy, mastering necromancy, his death in the battle against the giants... all of it had been his reality.

Hurriedly moving to the table next to the bed, he grabbed a mirror and stared intensely at his reflection. What he saw took his breath away. His reflection revealed a youthful face, devoid of the marks of time and the magic he had mastered. It was as if he had been transported back. Far back enough to look no older than a ten-year-old.

Shock seized him as he scrutinized his own features, recalling every detail, every erased wrinkle, every timeline removed from his face. His gaze froze as he attempted to comprehend what had transpired. Was it a dream? An illusion?

Yet, the familiar atmosphere of his room, the precisely arranged items, everything was authentic. He vividly remembered this place, his parents, his initial steps into learning magic. But how had he returned here?

As Erevan stood in his chamber, lost in the labyrinth of his own confusion, a soft and familiar scent wafted suddenly through the house. It was a comforting fragrance, a blend of subtle spices and gentle herbs, carrying memories of his childhood.

He straightened up, his mind captured by this familiar scent now filling the air. It was a dish his mother often prepared during moments of solace, a stew with vegetables from the surrounding lands infused with spices from the town markets.

Memories flooded back as he was overwhelmed by this scent. He saw himself as a child, seated at the kitchen table while his mother bustled around the cauldrons, creating these comforting dishes that seemed to soothe the deepest torments.

It was a scent that had traversed the years, been his anchor during his years at the academy, as he fervently studied necromancy and battled to master the darkest arcana of magic.

For a moment, this aroma granted him respite, pulling him from the tumult of this altered reality. It reminded him of a time when things were simple, when he was just a young student, before destiny propelled him into a whirlwind of wars and magic.

Strangely, in this transformed world, this scent seemed like a beacon, a reassuring constancy amid the chaos. It brought him back to his roots, to his home, to the love and warmth of his family.

A tinge of nostalgia colored his face as he let himself be carried away by this evocative scent, recalling every detail of those simple and happy moments with his family.

Erevan rushed through his parents' house, a modest abode he had left years ago to pursue his apprenticeship at the Imperial Academy, his heart pounding.

He reached the kitchen. The door swung open, and his parents were inside, going about their usual business, as if they hadn't noticed any particular changes around them. His father was fixing a chair, his mother preparing dinner.

"Erevan, my dear, you're back," his mother said warmly, as if it were entirely natural to see him appear.

"Hello, son," his father said, lifting his gaze from his work to give him a cordial smile.

Erevan remained speechless for a moment, realizing that for his parents, nothing had changed. He was still their young son, about to leave for the Imperial Academy.

"I'm back," he managed to say, trying to contain the emotion overwhelming him.

"Are you ready for the academy?" his mother asked, briefly interrupting her tasks to look at him affectionately.

Erevan was flooded with a wave of emotions. They didn't know what had happened, how much the world had been disrupted in this altered reality.

"Soon," he replied, a mixture of sadness and confusion evident on his face. "There's something I need to figure out before I go."

His parents nodded, understanding that their son needed time to sort something out, even though they didn't exactly understand what.

"We'll be here for you, as always," assured his father, offering an encouraging smile.

"You're strong, Erevan. You'll find the answers you need," added his mother, her eyes filled with confidence.

His past strangely intertwined with this rejuvenated present. He had to understand this mystery, this second chance offered by a magic he didn't yet comprehend. The quest to understand his return had begun, along with the opportunity to shape a new destiny for Hexerus."