The river babbled gently beside him, a lullaby of a world untouched by war. Birds sang above in the canopy of the old tree, its wide arms sheltering the mossy ground from the early morning sun. Wildflowers swayed in the breeze, and a pair of dragonflies danced across the shimmering surface of the water.
Lucien Vale opened his eyes.
His breath caught in his chest.
Not because of what he saw, but because of what he didn't.
There was no battlefield. No throne of corpses. No mountains turned to ash by his hand. The world was green, quiet, whole.
He raised his hands, small and soft. His fingers trembled. They weren't calloused from spellcraft or blood-soaked steel. These were a child's hands. Fragile. Innocent.
It worked…
The forbidden magic — the Spell of Eternal Return, crafted from shattered timelines and the screams of dying gods — had shattered reality itself. He had not been given a second chance.
He had taken it.
Lucien Vale was born again. But deep beneath his nine-year-old flesh slumbered Kaelgor, the Dread King. The most feared being the world had ever known. The one who had ended the Age of Light.
He let out a long, shaky breath.
The old tree was still here — just as he remembered it. And just beyond the riverbank… yes, the village would be there. Home.
A place he had lost long ago.
A voice broke the silence.
"LUCIEN VALE!"
A woman's voice — sharp and panicked, cutting through the birdsong like a blade.
Lucien turned.
The branches rustled as someone pushed through the underbrush, twigs snapping under hurried feet. A woman emerged, chest heaving, brown hair in a messy braid, eyes wide with a mixture of fury and relief.
His mother.
He had seen her die when he was fourteen. Cut down by raiders. Her body burned with their home.
Now she stood before him — alive, breathing, frantic.
"Lucien! You little devil!"
Before he could react, she rushed forward, grabbed his ear, and twisted.
"Ow! Ow—M-Mama!"
"I've been looking for you since dawn! Do you think I have time to run around half the valley because someone decided to take a nap under a tree like a forest spirit?"
"I— I just wanted some air!" he yelped, trying not to grin. The pain didn't matter. She was real.
"And you didn't think to tell me first?! Do you know how worried I was? What if you slipped into the river? What if a wild beast found you?" Her tone softened, just a little. "What if… something happened to you?"
Lucien blinked up at her, heart aching with the weight of a hundred lifetimes.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I just… wanted to remember something."
She paused. Her grip on his ear loosened. "You're acting strange lately."
"I guess I missed the quiet," he lied gently. "I didn't mean to scare you."
His mother sighed and pulled him into a hug, wrapping him tight in arms that had once only lived in memory.
He clung to her like a child, like a man drowning in the past.
Their walk back to the village was peaceful, if a bit awkward — she scolded him now and then, but her voice was calmer. Her hand stayed on his shoulder. The dirt paths were familiar. The wooden fences. The lazy cows dozing near the mill. Nothing had changed.
And yet… everything had.
They passed by a few villagers — old men tending the fields, a woman hanging laundry, children chasing chickens.
"Ah, Mira! Found your troublemaker?" called an elderly farmer, leaning on a hoe.
"I did," his mother replied with a tired smile. "Hiding under trees like a wild elf."
Lucien waved sheepishly. The villagers all seemed so kind. So unaware of what the world would become.
They continued past the bakery, where the smell of fresh bread lingered in the air. Past the well he used to draw water from. Lucien's heart ached with the weight of familiarity.
Then, instead of going home directly, his mother led him toward the forge at the edge of the village.
"You're coming with me to see your father. He's been up since dawn and could use a surprise."
Lucien nodded silently, his chest tightening.
The forge stood just as it had in his memories — stone walls dark with soot, the anvil gleaming in the morning light. Sparks danced within the shadows as the clang of metal rang out.
His father stood at the heart of it all, shirt damp with sweat, hammering a red-hot blade into shape.
He looked up as they approached.
"Look who I dragged home," his mother said, folding her arms. "Your son decided to disappear for a little river nap."
The man raised a thick brow. "He does like that tree."
Lucien couldn't speak. He simply stared.
His father.
Alive.
In his past life, he had returned from the forge too late. The fire had already claimed the house. His screams had echoed into the night.
And now—he stood there, alive, smirking slightly.
"You alright, Lucien?"
Lucien nodded, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. "Y-Yeah. I just… missed you."
His father tilted his head. "I was only gone a few hours."
Lucien rushed forward and wrapped his arms around him.
The man blinked, then chuckled and ruffled his hair. "What's gotten into you today?"
Lucien didn't answer. He didn't need to.
For the first time in decades, Kaelgor felt something other than power.
He felt home.
That evening, the Vale home smelled of stew and firewood. His mother hummed as she kneaded dough at the table. His father sat by the hearth, mending a piece of broken metal from a neighbor's plow.
Lucien sat in silence, just watching them. Memorizing every detail.
But this time…
He wouldn't let tragedy strike again.
Not to them.
In three months, he'd be taken to the Tower Plaza to be tested with the Crystal of Awakening. Every child would discover their elemental affinity. The shine of the crystal determined their future — fire, water, wind, earth, and beyond.
But Lucien's would not shine.
It wasnt the first time. The crystal could not see what he was. What he had become.
He was not bound by the eight elements.
He was the counter to all of them.
In this life, just like the last, they would call him useless.
A magicless child.
Trash.
He smiled faintly into his stew.
Let them think so.
That night, as the fire crackled low, Lucien lay in his small wooden bed, staring at the rafters.
His heart was full. His mind raced.
"I'm Lucien Vale again," he whispered.
But deep down, he knew:
Kaelgor still lived.
And the world, no matter how much he loved it now, would not leave him in peace.
He would walk it again — as boy, as monster, as something new.
But this time, he would protect what mattered.
He would not lose them again.
He would not become the tyrant the world feared.
Not if he could stop it.
He closed his eyes…