I count the days spent entombed within this suffocating coffin. The silence has woven itself into the fabric of my being, and the oppressive darkness that engulfs me feels almost... consumable. Strangely, the limited oxygen is sufficient to sustain me. Am I truly comfortable with this?
No.
Why did it come to this? Why am I imprisoned here?
Raynold, Robert, Eleanor... Why did they betray me? I dig relentlessly through the labyrinth of my memories, searching for answers. Yet, all I find are wrong turns, endless loops of self-questioning. The space around me is stifling, and this adult body of mine has grown far too large for the coffin that confines it.
The magical seal trapping me here has degraded, becoming unstable over time. I can sense it; freedom is within reach. If they wanted me to remain buried forever, why didn't they come back to reinforce the seals?
I press my palm against the rotting wooden lid of the coffin, pushing it upward. Slowly, deliberately. The instant the lid fully opens, the ancient magic circles shatter, their disintegration echoing like the sound of windows shattered by thrown stones.
Darkness greets me—a vast, silent void. A cave? The space is saturated with an overwhelming amount of mana, visible as faintly glowing particles drifting in the air. They radiate warmth, and my skin drinks in their energy as though it had been parched for centuries. My mana begins to swell, replenishing the reserves that had been drained to keep me alive, to nourish me in place of food.
Although oxygen managed to seep into the coffin, the flow of mana had been deliberately restricted. My body had adapted, consuming its own mana to stave off death. A desperate but effective solution.
Sitting up, I glance around. My surroundings remain veiled in darkness, so I conjure a small flame atop my index finger. Its light is dim, yet it suffices to illuminate the immediate area.
What greets my eyes is a horrifying reflection of my state.
Ah… I am but a husk. My emaciated body, deprived of sustenance for what feels like eons, reveals bone through thin, translucent skin. Muscles have wasted away, and even the remnants of fat have vanished. My eyes, likely sunken deep into their sockets, must resemble those of a corpse. My appearance is less human and more akin to a skeleton draped in flesh. Transforming my body back to its true form feels like an impossible dream for now, with my mana reserves too depleted to even attempt it.
Dragging myself out of the coffin is a struggle. My legs, weak and trembling, seem unwilling to remember how to stand. It feels as if my body has fused with that damned prison. My hair—white as the core of a dying star—has grown absurdly long, cascading to the ground and trailing behind me. My exhaustion is profound, an almost cruel irony considering I've done nothing for two millennia.
I take my first steps, shuffling aimlessly through the cavern. The faintly glowing particles of mana guide my way, forming an ethereal path in the void. My tattered garments cling to my frail frame, and my bare feet, raw and sensitive, press against the cold, uneven ground.
Every step feels like a defiance of the eternity I've spent in stillness.
But I will walk. No matter where this path leads, I will find answers—or vengeance.