The darkness surrounding Aslam was not merely the absence of light. It was an oppressive presence, as if it were compressing every part of his being. Time held no meaning there; minutes became hours, and hours turned into days as he lost himself in an absolute void.
A reflection of his past defeats. Every shadow seemed to whisper forgotten secrets, each breath of rarefied air bringing to the surface the doubts that had always lingered in his mind;
He tried to remember how he had ended up in that place, but his memories were like scattered fragments, fleeting glimpses that dissolved in his mind.
One moment, he was conscious, immersed in reality; the next, he was sinking into an abyss of nothingness. His mind struggled to grasp any remnant of reality, but it was a battle without victory.
Found himself not merely a prisoner but a spectator of his own life. He pondered what it truly meant to exist, questioning whether his essence was more than just a physical body, more than a sequence of memories.
"How much time has passed?" This thought consumed him. A thousand years? Perhaps more, in an endless cycle of despair.
Without mana, Aslam felt stripped of something vital, as if a crucial part of his essence had vanished. Its absence was more devastating than the prison itself. He had always felt the mana flowing around him, a constant river that sustained him.
Now, each breath became a struggle, as if he were submerged, trying to reach the surface in an ocean of darkness. He was adrift, isolated in an endless sea, unable to find a safe harbor.
"Why was I defeated? What was that?" The memories of the entity that sealed him were a dark haze in his mind.
A formless shadow, yet filled with incomprehensible power. It had stopped him with an ease that still made him question his own abilities.
The presence of that entity was not merely a terrifying memory; it was a cruel reminder that even the strongest can be subdued. The power he had once challenged now loomed over his soul like a shadow, a specter that followed him in every thought."
Suddenly, something changed. A small tremor broke the suffocating silence.
He felt a new presence. Small, yet real. A breeze. It was like a breath of life in the endless desert. And then, everything began to shift.
His consciousness, slow and heavy, was pulled back. He felt something different. Air? The touch of his body against the cold ground? The sensation was strange yet familiar.
His eyes snapped open. Above him, the sky was bright and warm, as if welcoming him. He blinked, adjusting to the sudden influx of light and the shock of being awake again.
He tried to rise, but his body felt heavy, rigid, as if he had been asleep for far more than just a few days. Every muscle resisted, refusing to obey his will.
His limbs felt like lead, each movement a battle against the weight of time itself. The simple act of breathing seemed foreign, as if his lungs had forgotten their purpose after an eternity of stillness.
He remained there, sprawled on the ground, watching the dance of leaves above him through half-lidded eyes.
"What happened to me?" The question escaped his lips, his voice hoarse and weak.
He looked around, seeking answers. The trees surrounding him were tall and dense, and he found himself in a forest he did not recognize.
"A forest? " He could barely remember the last time he had seen something like this after eons of darkness.
The forest's sounds overwhelmed his senses – the rustle of leaves, the distant call of birds, the whisper of wind through branches.
After an eternity of silence, each noise felt like a hammer against his consciousness. He closed his eyes, trying to filter the cascade of sensations that threatened to drown him.
As he lay there, struggling with his new reality, his hand brushed against something solid at the center of his chest. Through the fine white fabric and the fancy red rob, he felt a smooth, cool surface.
With trembling fingers, he traced its outline – a jewel, perfectly circular and blue as the ocean, embedded in an intricate silver setting sewn into the clothing.
The moment his fingers touched the stone, images flooded his mind. They came in waves, memories not his own, yet now inexplicably part of him:
A young noble called Kaelus Sylvaris, barely eigthteen summers old, receiving the family heirloom from his father's weathered hands. — This crystal has been in our line for generations, son. It carries our history, our legacy... —
The same young man, standing before a mirror, adjusting the ceremonial robes he now wore – the very robes that clothed Aslam's new form. Pride and uncertainty mingled in his green eyes as he prepared for his appointment as the family's representative in the Royal Court.
A loving mother's touch, her fingers brushing the jewel as she straightened his collar. — Remember who you are, my dear one. This stone carries the wishes of all who came before you... —
The flash of steel in the darkness. Betrayal. A midnight ambush in these very woods. The young noble's final thoughts of family, of duty, of promises left unfulfilled...
Aslam gasped, breaking free from the cascade of memories. His hand clutched the jewel tightly – whether his own or echoes of the young man's final moments, he couldn't tell – rolled down his cheeks.
The weight of two existences pressed upon him – his ancient soul housed in this vessel of youth, and the lingering echoes of a life cut tragically short.
The jewel pulsed faintly against his palm, a constant reminder of the bridge between past and present.
Another memory, more recent, more painful:
A grand hall decorated with ancestral banners. The young noble's father pacing, worry etched deep in his features.
— The court grows more dangerous by the day, son. Our family's position… — A mother's worried glance. Sisters huddled in corners, whispering. Political intrigue that would soon lead to tragedy.
Aslam's hands clenched into fists. This body, this young noble, had been a pawn in a greater game. The ambush in the forest had not been random banditry
— Your family still lives — he whispered, the realization of the burden hit him
" They don't know your fate. They wait for a son who will never return. "
The weight of this knowledge settled onto his shoulders like a mantle of lead. He was not just inhabiting a dead man's body; he was wearing the face of a son, a brother, whose family likely still searched the kingdoms for any sign of him.
He walked slowly, with uncertain steps, until he reached a clearing. A lake sparkled under the light filtering through the trees.
The water was crystal clear, reflecting the overcast sky. He approached and, without thinking, gazed at his reflection in the water.
He leaned over the surface, and despite knowing what to expect from the memories, seeing his reflection still made his breath catch in his throat.
The memories from the jewel were one thing – distant echoes of another's life. But seeing this face, his face now, with his own eyes... it made everything real.
The reflection showed a young man with calm features, his fair skin softly illuminated, outlining the gentle contours of his face.
His hair, white as fresh snow, fell lightly over his shoulders, contrasting with the deep red of his cloak that draped like a river of silk. The place felt familiar, yet something was off.
For a moment, he did not recognize himself.
His eyes, a soft green , sparkled with a depth that seemed to carry the weight of a thousand years. It was as if they had witnessed both the beauty and tragedies of the world.
The face, once marked by battle scars, was now smooth and flawless, reflecting a beauty different from that of his original form.
His fingers trailed down his neck and chest. The body was new, but the soul... the soul was still his.
"This isn't me, why does it feel so different? I've never known magic for rebirth" The feeling of strangeness was intense.
He stripped off the clothes and entered the water. The cold brought him back to the present.
The water, both familiar and strange, offered a chance for renewal, a moment for his soul to be purified. It was as if the waves whispered promises of an unknown future, urging him to let himself be carried away
Felling more awake. The water washed over his body, but it did not cleanse the questions in his mind.
"This body..." He observed the scars that did not exist, the different musculature, the youthful vigor. "I have been reborn... but why, how?"
His thoughts raced in circles, seeking answers. What had happened to his original body? He remembered the sealing, the confrontation with the mysterious entity, the betrayal that had brought him here.
Now, it was clear: he had been reborn into a different body. A young noble, dead in the forest, whose soul had departed.
As he emerged from the water, he put on the soiled clothes, still filled with questions. Even without understanding everything, he knew that time had passed.
But how much? He reached out toward the lake, trying to summon the mana.
At first, nothing happened. The emptiness of the sealing still weighed on his soul. But gradually, he began to feel something. The mana was still there, but it felt different.
It flowed more subtly, more distantly than before. The vibrant and constant flow of mana now seemed quieter, more subdued.
It was as if the world was learning to live without it. Each step he took through the forest was an attempt to comprehend what had happened.
He didn't know how long it had been since the sealing, but he knew the world around him was not the same.
There was something in the energy, something in the very earth that felt different.
A serene smile touched his lips as he finally understood. There was no longer a reason to fight the inevitable. This body, this life granted to him—whether by destiny or some higher force—was now his responsibility, his gift, his burden, and his blessing.
— Thank you. — he whispered to the empty air, knowing that somewhere, that soul would hear him.
— Thank you for this body, for these memories, for this chance. I promise to honor your existence and take care of what you left behind. —
Closing his eyes, Aslam took a deep breath before continuing: — Your family... I will protect them, you have my word. I'll find a way to give them peace, even if they never know the full truth. This is my vow to you. —
In that moment, he felt—more than he saw or heard—a warm presence around him, like a gentle embrace made of light.
It was a sensation of approval, of mutual acceptance. And then, as softly as it had appeared, the presence faded, leaving behind only a profound peace and the certainty that, somehow, everything was as it should be.