The soft creak of the crib rocked gently as Alex stirred, his tiny hands gripping the wooden bars. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a silvery glow over the room. His parents' voices drifted in from the adjoining chamber, warm and familiar, a sound he hadn't heard in over five centuries. His heart ached with a mixture of joy and sorrow, a flood of memories rushing back like a tidal wave.
Footsteps echoed in the hallway, a pair of voices growing clearer with each passing second. His heart pounded against his ribs. He knew those voices. He had not heard them in over five hundred years.
The door creaked open, and two figures stepped inside. His father, Max Theodorix, stood tall and broad-shouldered, his dark brown hair slightly disheveled from sleep. His sharp, calculating eyes, the same as Alex's, softened as they gazed down at him. Beside him, his mother, Lelian, was radiant. Her golden hair framed her delicate face, her emerald eyes filled with warmth and love as she approached the crib.
A tidal wave of memories surged through Alex's mind. His father training him in swordplay under the great oaks behind their home. His mother humming an old lullaby as she sewed his first tunic. The scent of fresh-baked bread wafting through their small home on cold winter mornings. Their laughter, their scoldings, their unwavering love—it all came rushing back, overwhelming him.
"Good morning, little one," Lelian cooed, lifting him from the crib and cradling him against her chest. Her warmth, her scent—it was exactly as he remembered. He wanted to speak, to tell her how much he had missed her, how much he had longed for this moment. But all that came out was a soft gurgle.
Tears welled in his eyes, blurring his vision. He had faced countless battles, had witnessed the fall of empires, had walked through fire and blood without shedding a single tear. Yet here, in the arms of his mother, he felt himself break. He buried his tiny face against her, unable to contain the raw emotion crashing over him.
Max chuckled, reaching out to stroke Alex's head. "He's quite the emotional one, isn't he?" he remarked, his deep voice carrying a warmth Alex had almost forgotten.
Lelian smiled. "He knows he's loved."
Max Theodorix, his father, was a man of boundless energy and humor. A master mage whose name was whispered in awe across the realms, Max had always been a paradox—a man who could incinerate an enemy with a flick of his wrist but would also trip over his own robes while chasing after a runaway chicken in the yard. His magic was legendary, but his love for his family was even more so. However, there was something unusual about his lineage, something even he did not fully understand. His bloodline carried an enigmatic power, a latent force that no scholar or mage had been able to decipher. It was this mysterious heritage that made his magic so potent, so unpredictable.
Lelian Theodorix, his mother, was the embodiment of grace and strength. A high-Adept Rank knight and one of the greatest greatsword users of her time, she was a force of nature on the battlefield. Yet, at home, she was the ever-loving matriarch, her laughter filling the halls as she sparred playfully with Max or cradled Alex in her arms after a long day. But her strength was not just from years of training—Lelian possessed the bloodline of the Fire Dragons. A rare and powerful gift, it granted her enhanced physical prowess, heightened senses, and an affinity for flame magic that few could rival. It was from her that Alex had inherited his dragon's blood, a power that would one day awaken within him.
Alex's chest tightened as the memories overwhelmed him. He had lost them too soon, their lives cut short by a war that had ravaged the land. Now, here they were, alive and whole, their voices carrying the same warmth and love he had clung to in his darkest moments. He wanted to cry out, to call their names, but all that came out was a soft coo, the sound of a one-year-old still learning to speak.
The door creaked open, and Max stepped into the room, his tall frame silhouetted against the light from the hallway. He was younger than Alex remembered, his dark hair streaked with only a hint of gray, his eyes bright with mischief. He approached the crib with a grin, his voice a low, playful whisper.
"Well, well, if it isn't my little mage," Max said, reaching down to scoop Alex into his arms. "What are you doing awake at this hour, huh? Planning your next great adventure already?"
Alex's heart swelled as he was lifted into the air, his father's familiar scent enveloping him. He wanted to tell him everything—about the ruins, the cube, the voice, the second chance he had been given. But all he could do was stare up at Max, his tiny hands clutching at his father's shirt.
"Max, stop teasing him," Lelian's voice called from the doorway. She stepped into the room, her long auburn hair tied back in a loose braid, her emerald eyes soft with affection. She was dressed in a simple nightgown, but even in her casual attire, she carried the air of a warrior. She crossed the room in a few strides, her hand brushing against Alex's cheek. "He's just a baby, not one of your apprentices."
Max chuckled, bouncing Alex gently in his arms. "Oh, come on, Lelian. You know our boy's destined for greatness. Look at those eyes—sharp as a hawk's. He's already planning his first spell, I can feel it."
Lelian rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. "You and your magic. What if he wants to follow my path and become a knight? Hmm? What then, oh great mage?"
Max feigned a look of horror, clutching Alex to his chest. "A knight? Over my dead body! Do you know how much paperwork I'd have to fill out if he joined the Order? No, no, no. He's going to be a mage, just like his old man."
Lelian crossed her arms, her tone teasing but firm. "And what if he wants to be both? Hmm? A mage and a knight? Would that be so terrible?"
Max paused, his expression thoughtful. "Hmm. A mage-knight, you say? Now there's an idea. Imagine the look on the Council's faces when they see him casting spells while wielding a greatsword. They'd probably faint on the spot."
Lelian laughed, the sound like music to Alex's ears. "Exactly. So stop trying to push him into one path or the other. Let him choose for himself."
Max sighed dramatically, but his eyes sparkled with affection. "Fine, fine. I suppose you're right. But I'm still teaching him magic first. No son of mine is going to grow up without knowing how to summon a fireball."
Lelian shook her head, her smile widening. "And I'll teach him how to wield a sword. That way, he'll be unstoppable."
Alex listened to their banter, his heart aching with love and longing. He had forgotten how much he missed this—their playful arguments, their unwavering support, the way they balanced each other so perfectly. He had spent centuries carrying their memories, but now, here they were, alive and real.
As Max and Lelian continued to talk, Alex's mind wandered. He thought about the talent he had inherited from his father—the innate magical ability that had made him one of the greatest mages of his time. No one had known the truth about his father's role in his success, but Alex had always known. Max had been his first teacher, his greatest inspiration.
And then there was his mother. Her skill with the greatsword was unmatched, her strength and precision legendary. She had taught him the importance of discipline, of honing one's body and mind to perfection. It was because of her that he had become the Red Knight, a warrior whose name struck fear into the hearts of his enemies.
The voice in his mind whispered softly, its tone reassuring. [You're not alone, Alex. I'll be with you every step of the way. Together, we'll make this life one for the ages.]
Alex clenched his fists. He had been given a second chance. A chance to protect them, to relive the childhood he had lost too soon, to become stronger than he had ever been. He would not waste it.
He had once been the Red Knight, the strongest warrior of Dracks. But here, in this moment, he was simply Alex—their son.
And for the first time in centuries, he was home.
[To be continued…]