Aslam stepped out of the guild, his footsteps echoing against the cobblestone streets. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the buildings, and a cool breeze rustled through the trees lining the avenue.
His new silver insignia caught the light, a reminder of how far he had fallen from his former power. A thousand years ago, such a simple mission would have been beneath his notice. Now, it represented a genuine challenge.
Through narrow alleyways and past bustling markets, he searched for solitude. The city's architecture had changed dramatically - stone and wood giving way to materials enhanced by magic.
A small garden tucked away behind an old temple caught his attention. Moss-covered stones formed a natural seat beneath an ancient oak tree, its branches creating a peaceful canopy overhead.
"How strange to feel so weak," he thought, settling onto the cool stone.
"The mana flows differently now, more structured but less wild."
Closing his eyes, he reached out with his senses. The mana currents around him felt like tiny streams compared to the rushing rivers of his past.
Even the simplest spells would require careful consideration for modern sorcereres.
He touched the borrowed body's chest, feeling Kaelus's heart beating steadily. The young noble's death had given him this second chance, but it came with limitations he needed to understand.
The garden's tranquility allowed him to sink deeper into meditation. He could sense the mana nodes throughout the city - organized, controlled, but somehow diminished. The world had changed in fundamental ways during his imprisonment.
Birds chirped in the branches above, undisturbed by his presence. In this quiet moment.
The birds gathered quietly around Aslam, drawn by an unseen force as he sat motionless beneath the ancient oak.
Though his eyes remained closed, his consciousness expanded beyond the garden's boundaries, sensing the subtle shifts in the city's magical flow.
Mana streams, invisible to ordinary citizens, began to drift and converge. Like water finding its level, the energy flowed toward a point deep within Eldria's heart. The change was imperceptible to most - a whisper among thunderclaps.
In the Mage Guild's tower, a handful of the most sensitive practitioners paused in their work. Lysandra, the legendary Heroic rank mage, lifted her head from ancient texts, her brow furrowed. Something had shifted in the familiar patterns she'd studied for decades.
An elderly professor in the Arcane Division stopped mid-lecture, his chalk hovering above the board. The subtle realignment of magical currents tickled at the edges of his awareness, like a half-remembered dream.
Back in the garden, sparrows hopped closer to Aslam's still form, tilting their heads in curiosity. A robin landed on his shoulder, unafraid. The mana continued its gentle migration, drawn toward something or someone in the city's depths.
The movement was so delicate that even Silver and Gold rank mages carried on with their daily tasks, oblivious to the change. Only those who had spent years attuning themselves to the finest threads of magical energy could detect the shift - and even they couldn't pinpoint its cause or significance.
A small smile played across Aslam's lips as he tracked the flow, though he remained perfectly still. His borrowed body had grown cold from sitting on the stone, but he paid it no mind, focused entirely on the fascinating phenomenon unfolding around him.
The mana's response wasn't something Aslam had planned or initiated. Like an old friend recognizing a familiar face, the magical energy responded to his presence with an eagerness that caught him off guard.
The streams of power converged around him in the garden, drawn by some deep resonance between his original essence and this borrowed form.
Through his meditation, Aslam felt the mana's yearning - a thousand years of separation from the first human who had ever truly understood its nature.
The scene resembled something from an old tome - serene and mystical, with an inexplicable energy surrounding everything, invisible to ordinary eyes.
The garden had become a sanctuary where time seemed to slow, the air thick with unseen potential.
A merchant hauling his cart of fabrics down the narrow path behind the temple stopped short. His eyes fixed on the white-haired figure seated beneath the oak tree.
The man's weathered face creased in concentration as he studied the familiar noble features.
—Young master Sylvaris?— The merchant's voice wavered with uncertainty. —I thought... weren't you...?—
The merchant's words trailed off as he recalled the rumors that had circulated through Eldria's markets - whispers of the youngest Sylvaris son's disappearance. He'd done business with the family for years, selling fine silks and brocades to their household. The resemblance was unmistakable - the same distinctive hair color, the aristocratic profile, the bearing of old nobility even in repose.
Aslam's eyes opened slowly, the meditation broken by the merchant's voice. The birds scattered in a flutter of wings, and the shimmering air stilled. The mana streams that had been gathering retreated like tide waters pulling back from shore.
—You must be mistaken— Aslam replied softly, his voice carrying just enough authority to discourage further questions.
The merchant shifted uncomfortably, his cart's wheels creaking in the sudden silence. Despite Aslam's denial, the man's eyes kept returning to those unmistakable Sylvaris features.
The merchant's weathered hands gripped his cart handle tighter, knuckles turning white. His eyes darted between Aslam and the garden gate, torn between propriety and curiosity.
—My apologies, young sir. It's just... the resemblance is remarkable— The merchant bowed slightly, his spine creaking like old wood.
Aslam rose from the stone seat with fluid grace, brushing invisible dust from his clothes. The mana streams that had gathered during his meditation now swirled in agitated patterns, reflecting his unease at being recognized.
—Many people share similar features— Aslam kept his tone light but firm. —
The merchant's cart wheels squeaked as he stepped aside, creating space in the narrow path. His eyes followed Aslam's departure, filled with questions he dared not voice.
Aslam paused at the garden gate, his mind working quickly. The merchant's recognition presented both risk and opportunity.
— The white hair is quite distinctive. Many assume I'm related to the Sylvaris family. —
The merchant's expression brightened at this opening for conversation. He released his cart handle, stepping closer.
Aslam's green eyes flickered with genuine interest.
—You seem well-acquainted with the family.—
—Twenty years I've supplied their household with the finest silks from the eastern lands— Pride crept into the merchant's voice.
—The elder Sylvaris values excellence. Though my encounters with young Kaelus were very limited, he consistently showed courtesy that set him apart from other aristocrats. He took genuine interest in merchant paths and tales from faraway harbors.—
The merchant's words painted a picture of the life Kaelus had lived, each detail valuable to Aslam's understanding of the body he now inhabited.
—Tell me more about them— Aslam gestured to a nearby bench. —I've always been curious about the family.—
The merchant glanced at his cart, then back at Aslam. The day's deliveries could wait a few moments.
The merchant settled near Aslam, his weathered hands resting on his knees. Though the young man before him shared Kaelus's striking features, something about him seemed vastly different.
The way he held himself, the quiet authority in his voice, the depth in those green eyes - they belonged to someone who had lived far longer than eighteen years.
—The young master had a gentleness about him— The merchant's gaze grew distant with remembrance.
— But you... there's something else in your manner.
A small smile played across Aslam's lips. The merchant was more perceptive than most.
—What makes you say that?—
The merchant shifted on the stone, leaning forward slightly.
—I've traded with nobles for over forty years. You carry yourself like the eldest of elders, yet wear the face of youth. It's... peculiar.—
Despite knowing this wasn't truly Kaelus, the merchant found himself drawn into conversation. Perhaps it was the familiar face, or maybe the mysterious air surrounding this stranger. Either way, memories of the young noble pulled at his heart, demanding to be shared.
—Even if you're not him, talking about Kaelus keeps his memory alive— The merchant's voice softened.
—He was different from other nobles - always asking about distant lands, about the common folk's lives.
The merchant's eyes lit up at Aslam's interest, his hands gesturing animatedly as he spoke.
—The Sylvaris lies northern of Eldria, nestled in the ancient forests. Their lands stretch for miles, protected by old magic and even older trees—
Aslam nodded, carefully storing each detail. Through Kaelus's memories, he could see the faces of the family members, but their personalities remained a mystery.
—Lady Elena, she's the heart of the household— The merchant's voice warmed. —White hair like moonlight, but with rare violet eyes. Always treats everyone with respect, from nobles to servants.—
The image of Elena's gentle smile flickered through Aslam's borrowed memories.
— The eldest twins, Marcus and Cordelia, share leadership responsibilities. Marcus commands their military forces while Cordelia handles magical affairs. They're both thirty now.
The merchant counted on his fingers.
— Then there's Nathaniel, the diplomat. Always traveling between kingdoms. Dominic spends his days in the library, and Valerie serves as court enchantress.—
Aslam absorbed the information, matching names to the faces in Kaelus's memories.
— And Lord Aldrich.
The merchant's expression grew more reserved.
—A stern man, but fair. Leads the house with traditional values. Since Kaelus's... disappearance.
The merchant paused, choosing his words carefully.
—The family has become more reclusive. They rarely attend court functions now.
The merchant leaned closer, lowering his voice.
Through Kaelus's fragmented memories, Aslam glimpsed grand hallways and sunlit chambers, but the details of daily life remained frustratingly out of reach.
The merchant's voice dropped even lower, his eyes darting around the quiet garden.
—Three months have passed since young master Kaelus vanished. The guards found signs of struggle in the forest, blood on fallen leaves.— His fingers twisted in his lap.
— Search parties combed the woods for weeks. Lady Elena fell ill with grief.
Aslam's borrowed heart tightened at the pain reflected in the merchant's weathered face.
—The family held a memorial service after the first month. Even the elves from the ancient forests attended, honoring their alliance with House Sylvaris.— The merchant wiped his eyes with a rough sleeve.
Aslam's brow furrowed as he processed the merchant's words. Something didn't add up about Kaelus's death.
If there had been signs of struggle and blood in the forest, why hadn't they found the body? The corpse he'd awakened in had been remarkably intact - no signs of fatal wounds or decay.
Hhis mind racing through the implications. Whoever had attacked Kaelus had taken care to preserve the body, or at least prevent its discovery.
His fingers traced unconsciously over his borrowed chest, remembering how he'd found himself in this form. No major injuries, no evidence of the fatal blow that must have ended Kaelus's life. Even the clothes had been clean and undamaged.
"Someone went to great lengths to hide what really happened" he thought.
The timing couldn't be coincidence either - his awakening in this particular form, at this particular moment. The pieces were there, but the pattern remained frustratingly unclear.
Aslam's green eyes narrowed slightly as he considered the implications. Whatever had happened to Kaelus was more complex than a simple forest ambush.
— But some still hope... bodies lost in those woods have been found before.—
—My deliveries won't complete themselves— He grasped his cart handles. —Thank you for listening to an old man's ramblings.
Aslam watched the merchant disappear down the narrow path, his cart wheels squeaking into the distance.
As the merchant's cart disappeared around the corner, Aslam's stomach growled, reminding him that this borrowed body needed food.
"First, food and fresh clothes," he thought, rising from the bench. "Then figure out how to approach the family."
Walking through Eldria's winding streets, he considered his options. The Sylvaris family's grief was still raw - showing up as their deceased son might shatter what fragile peace they'd found. Yet concealing his identity felt equally wrong.
"If I reveal myself now, they'll either think me an impostor or worse," he mused, passing a bustling marketplace. "But if I wait until I've regained more power, I could better protect them from whatever force targeted Kaelus."
His borrowed memories showed flashes of familial warmth - Elena's gentle smile, Cordelia's patient teachings, Marcus's protective nature. The thought of causing them more pain weighed heavily on his conscience.
The Ring of Inner Forge hummed within him, a fraction of his former strength. Whatever had killed Kaelus and hidden the body so carefully was likely still out there.
"Perhaps it's better to build my power first" he reasoned, weaving through the crowd.
Aslam's steps slowed as he passed a flower vendor's stall. The scent of fresh blooms triggered another of Kaelus's memories - Lady Elena tending her garden, showing him how to nurture delicate plants with just a touch of mana.
The borrowed heart in his chest ached with a son's love that wasn't his own.
His fingers brushed against a white lily, similar to those Elena had favored. Though these weren't his memories, the emotions felt genuine -
Kaelus's deep attachment to his family had somehow transferred along with his body.
The merchant's words about Elena's illness echoed in his mind. He could picture her grief, the way she must have wilted like an untended flower after losing her youngest child. The thought stirred something protective in him, a feeling that went beyond mere obligation.
"These aren't my feelings," he reminded himself, yet the distinction grew increasingly blurry. Each memory that surfaced carried Kaelus's love for his family, his desire to make them proud, his worry for their wellbeing.
Those emotions had somehow become entangled with Aslam's own sense of duty.
He owed them a debt - not just for inhabiting their son's body, but for the trust and love they had given Kaelus. Their pain was partly his responsibility now, whether he had chosen this situation or not.
The Ring of Inner Forge pulsed gently, reminding him of his current limitations. He couldn't protect them properly in this weakened state, yet every moment he delayed revealing himself felt like another betrayal of their trust.