This tale begins in a place not so different from the world you know, with a fifteen-year-old boy not unlike many others. Yet, despite his ordinary appearance, his life was anything but. Born into dismal circumstances beyond his control, he bore the weight of a home filled with cruelty and neglect. Day after day, he would arrive at school with fresh bruises concealed beneath layers of clothing. Why, you ask? The answer lay just beyond his front door, where his personal hell awaited him.

Calling him "Cinderfella" would not be an insult—it would be an apt description. His parents, if they could be called that, saw him as little more than a servant. The chores were endless, the demands relentless, yet nothing he did was ever enough. Failure, perceived or real, was met with violence.

School should have been a sanctuary, but it wasn't. There, he faced a different cruelty—endless ridicule for how he dressed, how he smelled, how quiet he was. His classmates preyed on his isolation, feeding off his misery.

Yet despite the darkness surrounding him, the boy never let bitterness consume him. Somewhere inside, a small flame of kindness flickered.

One autumn afternoon, after another long day of mockery, he heard faint cries echoing from a storm drain near the school. Ignoring the risk of dirtying his clothes—the consequences of which he knew would be severe—he knelt by the grate and peered inside. A small, shivering kitten was trapped, drenched and terrified.

He didn't hesitate.

Wriggling into the narrow space, he reached for the frightened creature, cutting his hand on rusted metal in the process. But he didn't let go. With gentle patience, he freed the kitten and cradled it against his chest, whispering soft words of comfort.

"You're safe now," he murmured.

For the first time in a long while, the boy felt warmth in his chest. A moment of light in the endless night.

What he couldn't know—what no one could—was that this simple act of compassion had not gone unnoticed. The goddess of the Land of Dreams and Legends had been watching. Testing.

But life rarely rewards kindness without cost.

Moments after placing the kitten safely on the sidewalk, a group of boys from his school rounded the corner. They sneered. One of them kicked the kitten aside like trash.

"Look at this freak, crawling around in the dirt for a stupid cat."

The first blow struck his side, hard enough to drive the wind from his lungs. Then came another, and another. Taunts blurred into fists, and the world spun.

By the time they left him bleeding on the cold pavement, the kitten was long gone.

The only comfort he had that night was the quiet darkness of his small, damp room in the basement. Six feet by four, the only place he could hide.

But even darkness has limits.

He never woke up.

After an unknown span of time...

He did awaken.

A vast void surrounded him. Infinite. Silent. Yet somehow... warm.

"Hello."

The voice was soothing yet vast, like the echo of a thousand whispered stories.

"I know you are confused. Wondering where you are... who I am. All will be explained. But first, I must tell you the truth. You are dead."

A silence heavier than before followed. The boy's voice broke as he whispered, "I...died? How? Did I—"

"No." The voice softened, tinged with sadness. "You were taken from your life. The ones who gave you life ended it while you slept. But listen carefully—your story does not end here."

The void shifted, and faint shimmering images began to swirl around him—fragments of his past. He saw himself saving the kitten, helping an old woman carry groceries, shielding a younger student from being bullied despite the risk. Moments of quiet kindness.

"You have earned more than you know," the voice continued. "The goodness you carried, even through pain, has not gone unnoticed. I have watched, tested you in ways both small and great. You were never truly alone."

"I...was tested?"

"Yes. And now, you face your final choice."

The void brightened, revealing two glowing symbols before him—one a gentle golden light, the other brilliant and fierce.

"Option One: You will be reborn into a loving family on Earth. They will cherish you, protect you. You will know happiness. But you will remember nothing of your past. Your pain will vanish along with your memories."

The golden symbol pulsed softly, invitingly.

"Option Two: You will awaken in the Land of Dreams and Legends as one of my Knights of Light. There, you will fight against the darkness—creatures born from nightmares, fear, and despair. You will remember everything: your pain, your loss, your struggles. But those memories will be the source of your strength."

The second symbol flared brighter, wild and untamed.

The boy stared at the lights, heart pounding. A life of peace, forgetting all the suffering he had endured... or a life of purpose, carrying the weight of his past but finally strong enough to protect others?

It wasn't a difficult decision.

He clenched his fists, his voice steady despite the ache inside.

"I... want to be a Knight of Light. I don't want anyone to go through what I did. I want to protect others from the darkness... and keep them from experiencing the same pain I faced. I'll carry my past, my pain, if it means no one else has to suffer like I did."

The voice resonated with warmth.

"You have chosen well. Rise, young knight. Your story begins now."