The world faded back into focus slowly, like sunlight piercing a dense morning mist. With every breath, a hazy numbness ebbed away, leaving him with the dawning realization that something was very, very wrong. He remembered…dying. A cold, sudden darkness. And then…now.

Where was he?

His eyelids flickered open, revealing a low wooden ceiling above him. The scent of earth and old wood filled his senses, grounding him in the moment. He raised a hand—small and soft. Definitely not the calloused, battle-worn hands he had grown accustomed to. He curled his fingers in disbelief, studying each detail of this strange, unfamiliar body. This was not his.

He sat up and glanced around, noting the simplicity of his surroundings. A narrow bed, a wooden chest, a basin, and a lone window letting in shafts of early dawn light. His heart quickened, a mixture of fear and disbelief.

"This…can't be real," he whispered, his voice barely a whisper, tinged with the tremble of something far younger than he remembered.

Memories flooded him in fragments—echoes of a life that seemed too distant now. He had been…someone powerful. A sorcerer-king. A warrior. Or was it all a dream? Fragments of an existence lived long and fierce pulsed in his mind, fading with each passing second.

A knock came at the door, pulling him out of his thoughts. A woman entered, her face soft and familiar yet completely unknown. She held a tray with a bowl of warm porridge and a small piece of bread. Her eyes softened as she looked at him, filled with concern and a warmth he couldn't quite place.

"Morning, Kael," she said, her voice gentle. "You've been asleep for quite a while."

Kael? Was that his name? It sounded strange on her lips, foreign yet somehow right. He nodded slowly, not trusting himself to speak yet, his mind still spinning with this new reality.

As he took the bowl from her, she continued, "You've been through a lot. It's normal to feel…disoriented." Her eyes searched his, as if sensing the confusion that lay beneath. "Your father…he would be proud to see you awake again."

"My…father?" He found his voice, even as it felt alien to his own ears. The woman's face softened further.

"Yes," she said. "He would be proud. You've inherited more of him than you might realize. Strong, resilient. Just like him." She offered a small smile, perhaps an attempt to comfort him, though he felt anything but comforted.

As he sipped the porridge, warmth spread through his body, grounding him in the reality of this new life. Whoever Kael had been, whoever this boy was—he was him now. And as unsettling as that was, he sensed a purpose underlying it all. A destiny waiting just beyond his reach, woven into the fabric of this foreign yet familiar existence.

Before he could ask more questions, a strange sensation buzzed in the air, a warmth that wrapped around him and thrummed deep within his chest. His heart skipped a beat, and he placed his hand on his chest, feeling the faint pulse of something extraordinary.

Magic.

His eyes widened as the memory of power rushed back, a torrent of sensations and knowledge from a life not his own, yet deeply intertwined with his very essence. The hum of energy that once roared within him was a mere whisper now, a spark waiting to be ignited. He clutched at that feeling, wondering how he could bring it forth, unsure if he even wanted to.

As he looked back up, the woman watched him with knowing eyes, and for a moment, he thought she sensed it too. She reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Your journey is just beginning, Kael," she said softly. "And I'll be here to guide you."

In that moment, a quiet determination settled within him. Whatever this life held, whatever path lay before him, he would walk it with the echoes of his past life guiding him. He had a second chance—a new beginning. And somehow, he knew this world would need every last ounce of strength he could reclaim.

For now, though, he would play his part.