Chapter 3: The Weight of a Second Chance
Azrael met the astonished look on the old man's face as soon as he turned to hand him back the sword.
"Here." Azrael dusted off the blade, the metal gleaming dully under the sun. "You might not want to take it to battle again. It has only a few strikes left."
The old man blinked, seemingly snapped out of his thoughts. He hastily grabbed the sword, his hands trembling slightly. "Aren't you that kid who signed up for the army trials?"
Azrael froze for a second, his hand rising to scratch the back of his neck nervously. He remembered all too well. In his past life, desperation to prove himself had driven him to enlist. At 18, the same age he was now, he had joined the trials with bright eyes and high hopes. But those hopes had been shattered on the battlefield, watching his comrades—his friends—fall one by one.
This time would be different. He had no intention of joining again. He couldn't bear to repeat the nightmare of leading soldiers to their deaths.
"Y-yeah," Azrael replied, his voice betraying a hint of hesitation.
The old man raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. Instead, a smile crept onto his face. "Well, with strength like yours, I'm sure you'll do just fine. No doubt you'll pass with flying colors."
Azrael remained silent as the man glanced at the goblin corpses scattered on the ground.
"But still…" The old man's eyes narrowed as he regarded Azrael. "How in the world did you manage to take them all down alone? Aurum goblins don't fall that easily, even with a full squad."
Azrael wanted to laugh at the irony. Because I've been through this hell before, he thought bitterly. But he knew better than to reveal the truth—that he wasn't just an ordinary boy. That this was a second chance at the life he had already lost.
"They're just creatures," Azrael replied casually, though his heart was heavy. Just creatures... And yet, the winged giants that had destroyed humanity were "just creatures" too.
"Azrael!"
The sound of a child's voice broke through his thoughts, light and excited. Before he could turn, small hands wrapped tightly around his waist. Azrael looked down, and his heart nearly stopped.
A little girl with chubby cheeks and dark red hair clung to him with a wide grin. Her bright eyes sparkled with joy as she cheered, "You saved the village! You saved the village!"
Azrael's vision blurred. He felt a lump rise in his throat. He knew that face better than his own reflection—Elys. His baby sister.
She had died in his previous life, her tiny body wasted away by a mysterious illness. He had held her trembling hand, whispering hollow reassurances as she drew her last breath. He thought he would never see her again. Yet here she was, alive and well, clinging to him with her usual mischievous energy.
"Now my friends will believe me when I say my brother is a soldier!" Elys declared, her voice bursting with pride.
Azrael couldn't hold back a chuckle, his emotions a storm inside him. He scooped her up, spinning her around like he used to when she was younger. "You know, I'm not in the army yet," he said, his voice light but cracking slightly.
"I know, I know," she giggled. "But only a fool would say no after seeing you fight!"
Azrael laughed, a rare sound he hadn't heard from himself in years. For the first time since his return, he felt a sliver of warmth. But even as joy filled him, an ache settled in his chest. I won't let anything happen to you this time, Elys. I swear it.
---
The Moonstone Village stood apart from the rest of the kingdom, nestled in the shadow of jagged mountains and cloaked in mist. Its isolation wasn't just geographical. The villagers here had long been dismissed by others as paranoid zealots, their belief in the threat of monsters like goblins considered excessive.
But the people of Moonstone had been right all along. Azrael had lived the truth. These creatures weren't just nuisances—they were harbingers of the destruction to come.
And this was where Azrael's story began, where he had sworn alongside his best friends, Leona and Kael, to join the army and eradicate these monsters forever.
But the dream had turned into a nightmare. He had watched Kael fall to a beast's claws and heard Leona's screams as she was overrun. Their deaths had haunted him, their blood staining his hands. And now, the trials were only a few months away.
How can I stop them from going through with it? he wondered, dread sinking in his gut. He knew their stubbornness too well.
---
Azrael stopped just short of his house. His hand hovered over the doorknob, hesitation freezing him in place.
Behind that door was his mother.
He had dreamed of seeing her again, of hearing her gentle voice and feeling the warmth of her embrace. But now, standing here, guilt clawed at him. He had ignored her advice, forced his way into a life of bloodshed and loss, and paid the price.
What can I even say to her? After everything…
The door suddenly swung open, startling him. A woman with sun-kissed hair and a mopstick in hand stared back at him, her eyes wide in surprise.
"Azrael? Why are you just standing there like a statue?" she asked, her tone half-scolding but softened by affection.
"Mom…" His voice broke, and the words caught in his throat.
She tilted her head, concern etching her features. "What's gotten into you?" She reached out and placed a hand on his face, brushing away a smudge of dirt. Her touch was so familiar, so real, that tears welled up in his eyes.
"I'm sorry," Azrael whispered, his voice trembling.
Her brows knitted in confusion, but she smiled, a soft and knowing smile. "Don't force it," she said, the same words she had always told him when he was struggling.
Azrael's chest tightened. Those words had echoed in his mind during his final moments in his past life, a painful reminder of how far he had strayed. But now, they felt like a lifeline, grounding him in the here and now.
"I... I'm sorry mom." His eyes teared.