[Cold, That was the first thing he felt.]
[Then rain. Heavy. Endless. Piercing through his skin like needles. His fingers twitched. Mud. Wet ground. Weak.]
Tirvan Godran-"…I'm… alive?"
[His voice came out wrong.]
[Lighter. Younger. Fragile.]
[Before he could move. A blade pressed against his throat.]
Prince Vaelric— "Abaksa… my poor younger brother."
[Tirvan's eyes snapped open.]
[A young man stood over him, drenched in rain, silver hair clinging to his face, eyes filled with something far colder than anger.]
Prince Vaelric- "Fate really is cruel, isn't it?"
[The sword dug deeper into his skin.]
Prince Vaelric-"Born into a dying dukedom… powerless… worthless…"
[Lightning cracked across the sky.]
Prince Vaelric- "…and now, about to die like a stray dog."
[Tirvan's breath hitched."…Abaksa…?"]
[The name echoed in his mind. Something felt wrong. Very wrong.]
Prince Vaelric- "Any last words?"
[The blade lifted slightly.]
Tirvan Godran- " I !"
[His body moved with the Instinct he had gain from experience. He twisted, grabbing the prince's wrist mid-strike.]
Prince Vaelric- "…What?"
[The movement was clumsy.]
[Weak.Nothing like before.]
[But enough.Tirvan shoved him back.]
Prince Vaelric- "You Dare!"
[The prince staggered. That single moment was all Tirvan needed as he ran.His legs screamed.His body felt like it would collapse at any second.]
"…Why… am I so… slow—?!"
[Rain blurred his vision.]
[His breath came out uneven.This wasn't his body.This wasn't his strength.]
Prince Vaelric- "AFTER HIM!"
[Shouts echoed behind him.Guards.Boots slammed against stone.]
[Tirvan forced himself forward.]
[The castle loomed ahead.]
[Massive doors.]
[Half-open.]
"Just a little more !"
[He stumbled.]
[Nearly fell.]
[His hand slammed against the door.He slipped inside.]
[The doors creaked shut behind him.]
[Silence.]
[Darkness.]
[Only the sound of rain echoing faintly outside.]
[Tirvan collapsed against the wall.]
"…What is happening…?"
[His breath shook.]
[His hands trembled.]
[Not physical.]
[Something deeper.]
[His head throbbed.]
Tirvan Godran-"AGH!"
[Memories flooded in but these were not his memories he was never son of the Duke he was a holy swordsman]
"…Duke…?"
[Tirvan's breathing stopped.]
"…This…"
[His eyes widened.]
"…is his life…"
[Abaksa Einsro.]
[The supporter. Who Lay dead beside him.]
"…I…"
[His voice cracked.]
"…became him…?"