The day I reincarnated into this world was also the day I experienced the worst pain of my existence—past and present.
I was born again at the moment of my father's death, his passing casting a heavy silence over the palace. Even though I had no true memories of him, the residual grief of this body clung to me like a second skin. It was overwhelming… but not enough to smother my curiosity.
I had felt it—trails of lingering memories, whispering of something beyond the ordinary. Magic existed in this world. And so, driven by instinct, I reached for it.
A simple spell. A basic invocation.
The result? Agony beyond words. Mana surged through my veins, twisting my body in ways it was never meant to endure. I collapsed instantly, plunging into a coma that lasted for days.
When I awoke, the memories of my new life unfurled before me. Lessons from my father—no, our father.
It was then that I learned the cruel joke of my existence. I was born with a monstrous amount of mana, an unshakable foundation, and the ability to replicate any spell I witnessed. A prodigious genius. A mage beyond compare.
And yet, karma had cast its judgment upon me.
For every ounce of mana I manipulated, my body rebelled, wracked with excruciating pain. The greater the magic, the worse the suffering.
But that wasn't all.
Lurking within me was something more—a library imprinted in my mind, An archive of spells I had witnessed and learned. The moment I awoke, I heard it. Pages flipping in the depths of my consciousness. I knew, instinctively, that if I reached for it, I would find myself inside that boundless library of knowledge.
Yet, I did not.
Instead, my hands moved on their own, wiping away the tears that blurred my vision. Tears not for my past life—I felt no attachment to that distant existence—but for the man I had never truly known. For the weight of his final wishes.
Then, my gaze fell upon him.
My twin brother, Felaisin, sat beside me, his eyes red, his lips pressed into a thin line as he struggled to contain his grief.
I moved without thinking and pulled him into an embrace.
"We've got this," he whispered, voice hoarse. "We'll fulfill his wishes."
And for the first time in this world, I spoke.
"I'll always stand by you."
And so, our tale began.
Henisin and Felaisin Montreign. The imperial brothers. Two geniuses.