The world was quiet after the light swallowed them.
Not a scream. Not a whisper. Just… silence.
And then, the sound of life. A first breath, wet and loud. A cry that marked the start of something new.
In a small village nestled between meadows and silver-leaved trees, a baby boy opened his eyes. His tiny fingers curled with instinct, but his gaze—sharp and too calm for a newborn—searched the dim-lit room.
He remembered.
Not everything. Not yet. But enough.
The fire. The light. Vaishnavi's hand slipping from his. The words he couldn't finish saying. And that strange voice, cold and amused, whispering "This isn't the end."
His name in this world would be Isaac Steelheart, the second child of a modest blacksmith and his warm-hearted wife. A brother's distant shouts echoed from outside. A sister's laughter. A family he hadn't asked for—but one he knew he'd grow to protect.
But even as a newborn, Isaac didn't cry again.
He just stared at the ceiling, the memories of another life flickering in the corner of his mind, and whispered a name he'd never forget.
"…Vaishnavi."
---
Far away, beneath a mountain sky veiled in mist, another child entered the world.
She came with a soft cry—quiet, gentle. Her mother wept with joy, holding her close, while three older sisters leaned in curiously to see the new addition to their little herbalist family.
They named her Vaela.
She was healthy, sleepy, and unaware of the weight her soul once carried.
There were no memories. No echoes of the past. Just a warm home, loving arms, and the scent of crushed herbs hanging in the air.
To her, this was her first life.
To Isaac, it was the second chapter of a story he wasn't ready to forget.
---
Days passed. Isaac learned to cry when he had to, eat when he must, and smile when expected. But his eyes held questions. His little fingers clutched at things that weren't there. Sometimes, in the dead of night, his tiny voice murmured her name again.
"Vaishnavi… Are you out there?"
He didn't know where she had landed. Or if she even remembered.
But deep inside, one truth burned brighter than any fire.
He would find her again.
No matter what body he was in.
No matter where fate had flung them.
He would find her.
And this time, he wouldn't let go.
---
> Meanwhile, in a quiet corner of her room, Vaela blinked up at the ceiling, tiny fingers wrapped around her mother's thumb. She didn't understand why her heart beat faster when the wind whispered through the window.
She didn't know what she had lost.
Not yet.
---