Caelum's first breath in the new world came slowly, as though the air itself was foreign. His lungs filled with warmth, but it wasn't the warmth he expected, and the pain in his chest made his eyes snap open in alarm.
Light. It was the first thing that hit him—soft, golden light filtering through the ceiling above, like a gentle embrace. He lay on his back, staring up at beams of wood and a thatched roof. His head was pounding, his thoughts clouded, and his body felt strange, not his own. As his senses sharpened, he realized that the body he inhabited was small—far smaller than what he was used to. The body of a child.
He tried to sit up, but his muscles were weak. His arms trembled, and his legs felt as though they hadn't borne weight in years. A soft hand reached out to steady him, and a voice, warm and comforting, echoed in his ears.
"Easy, Caelum," the woman said. Her voice was gentle but filled with an underlying strength. "You're awake, it's alright."
Caelum's eyes focused on her. She was young, with auburn hair, a face lined with faint traces of worry, but most of all, there was kindness in her eyes—a kindness that washed over him, calming him. She was holding him with a gentle grip, as though protecting him from something.
But Caelum didn't understand. His mind, still clouded by the shock of his rebirth, refused to make sense of it all. He tried to speak, but his voice was small, almost infantile. "Where... am I?"
The woman's gaze softened. "You're home now. You're safe. You're with us."
"Caelum," she whispered again, softly, as though trying to remind him of something important.
Caelum blinked at her. Caelum? That name felt familiar, yet foreign. It wasn't the name he had been born with. He had been Alec Winters in his previous life—a man who had lived an unremarkable life, and one that ended with a final, impulsive act of self-sacrifice. But now, here he was, alive again in the body of a child.
The woman's eyes filled with understanding, though she said nothing more. She helped him sit up fully, and for the first time, Caelum looked around. The room was simple—wooden walls, a fireplace in the corner, a small hearth that crackled with life. But something about it felt... right. There was an ancient, grounding energy in the air. Something that spoke to him on a primal level.
Before he could process further, a large figure stepped into the room, a man with dark hair and sharp eyes—eyes that seemed to hold a thousand secrets. His movements were steady, controlled, but there was an undeniable power in his presence. The man knelt beside Caelum and smiled warmly.
"You're awake," he said. "I'm Toren, your father."
Caelum's heart skipped. Father? He looked at the two of them—Toren and Mira. These two people, they're my parents in this life? But they didn't feel like strangers; it was as though a deep part of his soul recognized them, as if he had always known them.
Toren's voice broke through his thoughts. "You've been asleep for a while, Caelum. We were worried."
"You'll be alright," Mira said softly, smoothing his hair back with gentle fingers.
For the first time in this new life, Caelum allowed himself to relax into their care, though questions swirled in his mind. But one thought settled firmly: this world was different—different from the cold, indifferent world he had left behind.