Hum—
Huuuh...
When Kim Lee opened his eyes, the world around him was foreign, unfamiliar in every sense. His limbs felt like lead, his strength entirely drained, as if he had been pulled out of a dream only to find himself trapped in a nightmare.
The room around him was stifling, oppressive. The windows were tightly shut, sealing out the moonlight, and only the faint flicker of candlelight illuminated the space. The air was thick with the smell of burning wax and dust. The bed he lay in was an island of comfort in an otherwise empty, almost hostile space.
Summoning the last remnants of his strength, Kim Lee took a deep breath. His body felt alien to him—fragile, weak. Every movement was a struggle, like he was running a marathon without having trained a day in his life. Simply staying upright felt impossible. But he forced himself to push forward.
With trembling hands, he grabbed the candle, the warmth of the flame a small comfort against the cold dread gnawing at his stomach. His legs shook as he slowly took his first unsteady steps, but he didn't falter. He had to know where he was, what had happened to him.
Approaching the window, he hesitated for a moment before slowly pushing it open. The faintest sliver of moonlight crept into the room, revealing glimpses of an ornate, yet unfamiliar interior—rich tapestries, a polished wooden desk, and paintings that hinted at wealth and status. It was a noble's chamber.
Where am I?
He couldn't help but ask himself, the confusion overwhelming. Was I… kidnapped in my sleep?
His stomach growled in protest, an acute reminder of his hunger. But his mind was clouded with more pressing questions. What should I do? Damn it, my body feels like it could collapse at any moment.
He reached for a nearby chair by a desk, collapsing into it. His eyes wandered aimlessly, until they landed on the large mirror across the room. The sight of the face staring back made his blood run cold. It wasn't his. It was a stranger's face—a boy with pale skin, dark hair, and strikingly green eyes. His heart pounded, and a sharp pain seized his head, forcing him to gasp for breath.
Fragments of memories, not his own, flooded his mind.
It hit him all at once. This body, this fragile vessel, belonged to a boy named Kaelen Virell.
A 17-year-old noble, frail and sickly, mistreated by his own brother, and abandoned by former friends. Kaelen had been a ghost in his own life, a shell bound for an early grave due to his illness.
Kim Lee, now trapped in Kaelen's body, felt a flood of emotions that were not his own. Anger boiled inside him, but it was quickly followed by an ache of sorrow that gnawed at his heart. Kaelen's life had been filled with injustice, pain, and neglect, and now, it seemed, that life had become his burden to bear.
How could anyone treat a sick child like this?
The question lingered, and with it, a surge of helpless fury. He could barely contain the emotions coursing through him. The rage was almost suffocating, but he knew he had to control it. Slowly, he took a deep breath, exhaling the storm that raged within.
He rose from the chair, feeling his legs tremble beneath him as he reached for the door.
The cool air of the corridor greeted him, but it did nothing to soothe the unease creeping down his spine. The hallway stretched long and narrow, bathed in the pale glow of moonlight streaming through large windows. Shadows seemed to cling to the walls, as if hiding secrets just beyond the light.
This is another world, he thought, a cold realization creeping over him.
His heart sank as he mulled it over. How did I get here? What happened to my body back in my world? Did I die… or was I left behind?
The unanswered questions made his head spin, but there was no time for answers now. He had to survive in this strange new world, whatever it was.
He approached a black door at the end of the corridor. Hesitating for a moment, he pushed it open.
Inside, the kitchen was brightly lit, candles flickering in their holders, casting dancing shadows on the walls. The warmth of the light contrasted sharply with the chill that clung to him, but the room was empty—eerily so.
His stomach growled again, a sharp reminder of his hunger. Reaching for the raw meat on the counter, he hesitated for a moment before grabbing it. He could feel his heart race with anticipation; food was essential, but so was understanding this world.
With Kaelen's memories still swirling in his head, something strange happened. His hand seemed to move on its own, instinctively reaching out to tap into the world's mana. It flowed around him, a strange yet familiar energy that he instinctively understood.
Kaelen, the boy whose body he now inhabited, had been skilled in magic. Not a genius by anyone's standards, but a quick learner. And Lee—now Kaelen—seemed to have inherited that ability. Magic wasn't just a force here; it was something Kaelen could manipulate, and it felt as if Lee- could tap into it with the same ease.
He focused, his hand raised, and before he knew it, a small flame burst to life in the hearth, crackling as warmth filled the room. The fire wasn't just for comfort—it was power. And it was his.
With a sense of quiet determination, Kaelen—no, Lee—set to work cooking for himself. The flickering firelight felt like the first spark of hope in this strange world. He couldn't change the past, but the future was his to shape.