Wade sat quietly, the memories of the past 18 years rushing through his mind, clearer than ever before. They weren't his memories, yet they felt so real. The boy who had once lived in this body had grown up in a peaceful village, surrounded by the warmth of family. His father, a fire mage, was highly respected as the village head, and his mother, a fierce swordsman, was renowned for her strength in battle.
As a child, the boy had been in awe of his parents. He would watch them train together in mock battles—his father summoning waves of flame while his mother's sword sliced through them with precision. He had wanted to be just like them, grabbing a stick and imitating their movements with clumsy enthusiasm. His sister, Emily, had been by his side, cheering him on as they both admired their parents' power and grace.
But that peaceful life came to a brutal end the night the rift opened near the forest.
The village was thrown into chaos. Demons poured out from the breach, their monstrous forms tearing through the trees and howling as they surged toward the village. The boy watched in terror as his parents rushed to defend their home.
His father, the village's fire mage, stood at the forefront, his magic crackling in the air as flames erupted from his hands, creating barriers to hold back the advancing demons. His mother's sword flashed in the firelight, cutting down any enemy that ventured too close. Together, they had always been the village's protectors, and for a moment, it seemed like they might hold the line once more.
But then, one of the larger demons—a hulking, menacing figure—broke through his father's defenses. The boy watched in horror as the creature smashed through his father's fiery shields and delivered a devastating blow. His father staggered, his flames flickering out, and collapsed to the ground.
"Father!" the boy screamed, his heart clenching as he saw the man who had always been so strong, so invincible, fall.
His mother's cry rang through the air as she rushed to her husband's side, slashing through the demons that swarmed around them. She fought with everything she had, her sword moving in blinding arcs as she cut down enemy after enemy. But the demons kept coming, and with her husband down, she was alone.
Emily, seeing the battle turn against them, grabbed her brother's hand. "We have to go!" she shouted, pulling him away from the sight of their parents. The boy resisted, tears streaming down his face, wanting to stay, to help. But Emily knew what he didn't—there was no hope of victory. Their parents were buying time, not fighting to win.
They fled through the village streets, the sounds of the battle growing fainter with each step. Emily didn't stop, her grip firm as she pulled her brother toward the guard posts on the village outskirts. As they ran, they met a group of knights rushing toward the village.
"We saw the rift—stay back, we'll handle the rest!" one of the knights shouted, but Emily kept running with her brother. The guards hurried ahead, weapons drawn, ready to confront whatever demons remained.
As guards returned saying the rift is now under control. Emily and her brother rushed to their house, they saw the aftermath of the battle. The rift had been closed, and the demons had been defeated, but at a terrible cost. From a distance, the boy saw his mother's sword lodged in the head of the larger demon, and nearby, the lifeless bodies of both his parents—his mother still holding his father's hand in her final moments.
The boy's world crumbled in an instant.
In the aftermath of their parents' deaths, Emily had no choice but to step up. She hadn't been ready—no one could have been—but with their parents gone, she became the sole guardian of her younger brother. It was an overwhelming burden for someone so young, but she never showed her fear. Instead, she did everything she could to keep them afloat.
Emily began selling fruits at the village market, scraping together enough to survive. Over time, she saved enough to set up a small bakery, using what little resources they had left to build a life for themselves. She worked tirelessly, making sure her brother had what he needed to live, all the while carrying the weight of her own grief in silence.
For the boy, life had changed drastically. He wanted to honor his parents' legacy, but there was no one left to teach him about magic. He could wield a sword, but without his father's guidance, he never fully understood how to control mana or use the magic that flowed within him. His father's death had left a gap in his training that no one could fill.
But what the boy lacked in magical skill, he made up for in sheer determination. Day and night, he trained with the sword, pushing himself to live up to his mother's legacy, even though he felt the weight of his father's absence every time he tried to harness magic.
One day, while practicing, a knight who had come to the village saw the boy's grit and determination. Impressed by his swordsmanship and relentless drive, the knight recommended him for the academy—a rare opportunity, a chance for the boy to prove himself.
With the knight's recommendation, the boy took the academy's entrance test. Thanks to his skill and a bit of luck, he passed. His sword skills were enough to secure him a place, and he even earned a small scholarship to help cover some of the costs. But the scholarship wasn't enough to cover everything, and Emily knew their savings were limited. Still, she gave him everything she had—every last coin she had earned from the bakery—to make sure he could buy the academy's required materials and pursue the life their parents would have wanted for him.
Wade could feel the boy's deep gratitude toward Emily. She had sacrificed so much for him, always putting his future ahead of her own.He opened his eyes, the weight of the memories pressing down on him. He wasn't just carrying the memories of someone else—he was living his life now. The hopes and dreams of the boy who had lost everything weren't just part of Wade; they were him."I'm... him," he whispered, the realization settling deep inside. This wasn't just someone else's story—it was his and with that truth came a new responsibility.