The late summer sun was setting over the mountain peaks, making long shadows stretch up the snowy slopes toward the small village of Oakhaven. The village sat on a flat spot on the mountainside. It had only seven houses made of stone and wood. Their straw roofs looked like dried honey against the white snow. Thin streams of smoke, looking blue in the dimming light, rose from their chimneys. These were the main signs of life in the quiet, wide landscape. Even though it was hot in the valleys below, it was still cold here, a reminder that the top of the mountain was always frozen.
In front of a house sits a youngster approximately 14-16 years old, gazing at the setting sun.
His really dark eyes were still and quiet, like they held more than just the sunset. His hair was wild and dark too, kind of messy but still looked good on him. Even though it wasn't styled, there was something really charming about him, a mix of being young and a bit wild, with the sun going down in front of him.
He mutters in daze, "My name is Alph." ...as if reminding himself not to forget.
"Sigh."
"I hope I will be able to adjust to this quickly. According to the memories of the original owner of this body there will be an awakening ceremony later on." He recalled what those memories told him: the awakening ceremony was a deeply ingrained tradition in Oakhaven. It was a time when the village's elder druids would test the aptitude of youngsters like him, those who were nearing their 'Coming of Age' at sixteen.
His brow furrowed a bit. This whole situation was just… weird. Was his soul zapped here from modern Earth when the original Alph kicked the bucket? Or was he always Alph, just with a sudden, massive memory dump from a past life back on Earth? Honestly, the "how" wasn't bugging him as much as the "why." Like, why him? Why this body, this village, this whole medieval snow globe setup? It felt like there had to be some reason, but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what it was.
He let out a long, slow breath, the cool air doing little to clear the fog in his head. What could he even do about it? Nothing. He was stuck, a stranger in a strange land, in a body that wasn't entirely his own, facing a future he couldn't predict.
A sense of powerlessness washed over him, but with it, a strange sort of calm. He muttered to the fading light, a new resolve hardening his gaze, "Alright," "Whatever comes, comes. Let's just see what this 'awakening' is all about."
With that, Alph pushed himself to his feet. The lingering sunlight cast his elongated shadow before him as he turned and headed towards the northern edge of the village. The houses here were not clustered, but spread out, separated by small groves of hardy mountain trees and the occasional vegetable garden patch. Just beyond the last of these dwellings lay a small, flat field, roughly the size of a basketball court, kept clear of the encroaching snow and hardy mountain shrubs. Beside it stood a large, ancient oak tree, its gnarled branches spreading wide. Alph's borrowed memories supplied that this was a common haunt for him and the other village children, a place for games and idle chatter.
He reached the base of the ancient oak, its rough bark cool beneath his fingertips as he momentarily leaned against it, catching his breath. Just as he was about to look up into its leafy canopy, something small and soft struck him squarely on the forehead. A wild berry, slightly squashed from the impact, slid down his nose, leaving a faint purple streak. The berry was swiftly followed by a poorly suppressed snicker from the branches above. Then another, higher-pitched giggle joined in.
Alph wiped the berry juice from his face, a flicker of annoyance, then recognition, crossing his features. He tilted his head back, squinting up into the dense leaves. "Alright, Kael, Emil! Very funny!" he called out, his voice laced with mock exasperation. "Think you're squirrels now, do you?"
He couldn't be truly angry, though. Kael was his best friend in Oakhaven, and young Emil, well, he was the grandson of the head village druid, Old Man Hemlock. Besides, this was tame compared to some of the pranks they'd pulled on each other over the years. There was that incident with the goat and the elder's prized turnips, for instance, which had been far more outrageous.
A grin tugged at his own lips. Without another word, Alph gripped a low-hanging branch and began to ascend. Despite the mental upheaval of his recent shift in consciousness, his body moved with an ingrained familiarity. The muscles, honed by years of scrambling up this very tree, responded with ease, finding purchase on the familiar holds. He was nimble, his limbs stretching and pulling with a coordination that felt instinctive, a comforting reminder that some parts of 'Alph' were still very much present and accounted for.
With a final heave, he pulled himself onto a thick, sturdy branch adjacent to where Kael and Emil were perched, their faces alight with mischief. Kael, a boy with a shock of blond hair and eyes the color of the summer sky, offered a cheeky salute. Emil, smaller and with a more serious face that often belied his playful nature, was clutching a handful of wild berries, his ammunition depleted for the moment. Alph settled himself, legs dangling. "So," he began, looking between the two, "Where's Finn? And Astrid? Figured they'd be in on the berry ambush too."
Kael chuckled, nudging Emil with his elbow. "Nah, not today. Astrid's with her mother, gathering herbs from Old Man Hemlock's garden. You know how he appreciates the help with it, especially with his hands not being what they once were. Her father, Uncle Torsten, will take the lot to town on his next trading run. And Finn's off with his father, learning the hunter's craft, I reckon. Probably tracking rabbits or something less exciting than berry warfare." Kael then leaned back, a wide grin spreading across his face as he looked Alph up and down. "Well, look what the cat dragged in! Alph, our resident bookworm, actually up a tree! What gives, brainiac? Get tired of talking to scrolls all day?"
Alph felt his face warm up a bit. Kael had a point. Before his recent shift in consciousness, Alph had been almost exclusively glued to his books. Magic, fighting, even casual tree-climbing – those were all just distractions from his true passion: history. He'd devoured any scrap of the past he could find, constantly pestering Uncle Torsten, the village's sole link to the wider world through his trading, to bring back any old, used scrolls from his trips to the nearest town. The boy's singular dream hadn't been of mountain adventures or druidic mysteries, but of dusty libraries and learned debate. He had yearned to become a scholar at The Lumina Academy in Port Haethwy, the grand capital city of their Duchy of Frostfell, a place he'd only read about in those precious, hard-won texts.
He brushed off Kael's teasing with a slight smile. "Just felt like some fresh air," Alph said, then paused, looking a bit more serious. "Hey, so, about that awakening ceremony… When's that happening? And what's the deal with it? Like, what do we actually do, and what's supposed to come out of it?"
Kael and Emil just stared at him, their jaws practically on the branch. Emil actually fumbled the last of his berries. Alph, the kid who usually only cared about old dead guys and dusty scrolls, asking about the awakening ceremony? The one all about magic and tradition and not books? That was seriously weird.
Noticing their dumbstruck expressions, Alph gave a small, slightly sheepish shrug. "Hey, a guy can grow up a bit, can't he? Been thinking about it, is all. It's something everyone's gotta go through, right? Might as well know what I'm walking into."
He paused, then added in a slightly lower voice, "Besides, it's not like I can really talk about this stuff with Aunt Elara." That was his only family, his guardian, and also Old Man Hemlock's current druidic apprentice.
"You know how she is about me and... well, anything that isn't a book. Definitely doesn't want me following in her footsteps with all the nature magic stuff."
Kael and Emil exchanged another look, this one less surprised and more understanding. Kael clapped Alph on the shoulder, a reassuring gesture. "Hey, no worries, man. Good on ya for thinking about it. It's a big deal, for sure." Emil, recovering his composure, nodded seriously. "Yeah, Alph. It's important."
Kael took the lead. "Alright, so, the Awakening. It's usually held on the first full moon after someone turns sixteen, or if a few of us are close in age, Old Man Hemlock might group us up. So, for you, Finn, and me, it'll likely be the next full moon, which is… what, Emil, about two weeks away?"
Emil, ever precise, chimed in, "Thirteen days, if the moon follows its usual cycle."
Kael grinned. "Thirteen days then. As for what's involved… well, that's where it gets interesting. It's not just one thing. Old Man Hemlock and the other elders, they test different stuff. Your connection to the mountain, your senses, your… well, your spirit, I guess. They say it's to see what path you're suited for, or if you have any particular gifts, you know? Like if you're more attuned to the plants, or the animals, or maybe even the stones themselves."
"And the outcome?" Alph pressed, leaning forward slightly.
"Well," Kael continued, "if you show a strong aptitude for something, the elders might guide you towards an apprenticeship. Like your Aunt Elara with Old Man Hemlock, or Finn's dad with hunting. If not… well, you're still part of Oakhaven. You find your way, contribute how you can. But the ceremony… it's like the mountain itself is taking a measure of you."
They chatted for a while longer up in the branches of the old oak, the last vestiges of sunlight painting the snowy peaks in hues of orange and purple. Alph, armed with a clearer understanding of the upcoming ceremony, finally bid his friends farewell.
By the time he climbed down and started the walk back towards the faint, welcoming glow of his own home, the sun had fully dipped below the horizon. The air grew sharper, and the first flakes of an evening snow began to fall, quickly thickening into a heavy curtain, promising a deep blanket by morning. With a newfound, albeit slightly anxious, anticipation for what the next thirteen days might bring, Alph trudged through the rapidly accumulating snow, the end of one chapter of his strange new life, and perhaps, the humble beginnings of the next.