Ekleos had opened his eyes a while ago. The first thing he felt was his frozen body, quickly replaced by a relentless burning in his muscles.
The air was heavy with the smell of stone, old wood, and metal. The moonlight streaming through the stained-glass windows gave way to the sun's rays. The vaulted ceiling, which he had been staring at, now revealed more clearly the fresco of mystical figures fighting monstrous beasts.
Soon he heard the chirping of sparrows and sighed softly. His mind was so full of thoughts that none of them could stay for long.
He was lying on a sofa with turned legs. He rubbed his eyes, feeling the softness of his hands, and lifting one of them to look at it, he realized that it had no wrinkles. He was young again.
He managed to sit up with difficulty, his muscles protesting in pain.
Ekleos recognized the place, an old room used by the former heirs to study history and strategy. The only time he had been here in his previous life was to stack a couple of old weapons and unimportant objects.
Everything seemed to be the same: some shelves covered with cloth, a desk almost empty except for a couple of books and loose sheets of paper, and behind it, the cracked mural depicting the ancient kings of the Kingdom of Pladena.
He wasn't quite sure what he was doing in this place instead of in his chambers.
He stood up awkwardly and approached the door. Voices in the corridor alerted him. He was still reeling from everything..
He peered through the crack in the half-open door and saw two young soldiers walking by, talking about something unimportant. The world was going on as usual, as if nothing had happened.
His footsteps echoed softly in the deserted corridor. The rays of sunlight streaming through the stained-glass windows reflected off the snow-white marble floor, dancing in a mixture of amber, purple and many other hues.
Ekleos walked silently, looking around without much curiosity, for he already knew his surroundings, only now he did so with nostalgia. In his previous life, he had left the palace shortly after going to war against the Kingdom of Astal and inheriting the throne of Pladena at the age of twenty-one after his heroic deeds.
He placed a hand on his chest and let out a heavy sigh. He felt strange, he noticed a hole in the pit of his stomach, a void that weakened him. He walked through the arch at the end of the corridor and went outside, he needed air.
Leaning on the stone railing, he took a breath of fresh air. Not even in his old age had he felt as exhausted as he did now.
"My prince, where have you been?" He heard a female voice behind him.
Turning around, he found a maid who looked worried.
"No one has seen you in your chambers since yesterday. I can no longer think of any excuses to hide your whereabouts. You know that lies are paid with death, and your mother will make sure of it."
The mention of his mother was what finally shook him. There was no doubt that he had returned. Seeing his family again was as painful as it was pleasant, even more so after seeing many of them die. Without a doubt, it was beyond comprehension.
He couldn't be entirely happy, because seeing them also meant facing those who had betrayed him and ended his life. Ekleos gave the most obvious excuse he could think of; there was nothing else he had devoted so much time to in his youth.
"Just tell her I was practicing with the sword."
The maid frowned and tilted her head, as if she had heard something absurd. They heard hurried footsteps coming up the stone stairs. A figure emerged, almost tripping on the last step. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, completely disheveled, with strands falling down her face.
"Finally, I've found you!"
She was dressed in the clothes of a royal knight, but without the armour. She hurried to his side and took him by the arm.
"Come on, we have to go."
The maid stood in front of them, blocking their way. "Didn't you say you would protect the prince? What was he doing alone?"
The knight rubbed her eye, removing some sleep, and spoke in a carefree tone. "Did I say that?"
The maid opened her mouth to reply, but the knight put her hand in front of her, silencing her.
"You're right, I did say that. And that's what I'll do. Shouldn't you be minding your own business? We're in a hurry."
Ekleos, who had been watching, not particularly keen to intervene, allowed himself to be led away by the energetic knight. They descended the stairs leading to one of the palace's inner courtyards, filled with diverse flora. As they passed under the wooden pergola, covered with climbing jasmine, they could smell its fragrance mingled with the sweet scent of nearby myrtle and the orange blossom of the trees.
"You promised to return to your chambers to sleep. Do you know how hard it was for me to distract your mother? Luckily, she's busy with the Rite of Passage. Besides, you promised to meet with Master Dar first thing in the morning to tell us what you've discovered."
The knight looked at Ekleos, who hadn't said a word, lost in his thoughts. "You're not very talkative this morning."
"And you talk too much," replied Ekleos, freeing himself from her grip. "Besides, let go of me, I can walk on my own."
The knight raised an eyebrow, amused. "Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed."
From the carefree way the knight treated him, Ekleos could sense that they were close. But he did not know her; he did not remember seeing her in his previous life. If everything was supposed to be as it had been before, why did he have this woman as his knight and not his former one?
He had to watch his words, he couldn't say anything out of place, because it would be obvious to his knight that something was wrong with him. What eased his concern was that he did know Master Dar.
"Take me to Dar. And my head hurts, so don't talk to me too much."
Ekleos knew he probably sounded like a grumpy old man, but that's what he was.
"Yes, my prince. Of course, my prince," the knight muttered mockingly.
There was no doubt that this idiot is close to me; talking like that could cost her her life otherwise. But Ekleos didn't really like being called prince again; it sounded youthful, and he no longer felt that way, even though he was one again.
They entered the palace through one of the doors leading to the library wing and the rooms where lessons were taught.
"Just call me Ekleos."
The girl let out a laugh that echoed off the walls.
"Nice try, but I am not buying it anymore."
The knight knocked on the door and a voice from inside allowed them to enter. Upon entering, Ekleos saw Master Dar rising from his seat behind his desk and greeting him.
He felt a very strange sensation, which he could not explain, when he saw his master. So young and alive. He had taught him so many things in his previous life that were immensely useful, and he had never been able to thank him.
He still remembered the last time he saw him, when he left by ship for foreign lands in the east to study and be able to pass on more knowledge to him once he became king. But he died after contracting an illness, which he later discovered had been poisoning.
"Sit down, sit down," said his master, guiding him to a chair and taking another seat across from him. "Well? Have you discovered anything new?" He looked expectantly at Ekleos.
Ekleos ran his hands over his pants, wiping away the little sweat that had formed. He had no idea what he had to report.
"Nothing new," was all he said, trying to get out of this predicament.
Dar leaned back in his chair, looking disappointed.
A knot formed in the pit of his stomach. He needed to know what they were talking about so as not to arouse suspicion. He didn't know how intelligent the knight was, but Master Dar had always been very perceptive.
"I've been investigating and trying to find answers, but I think I'm missing something. Perhaps we should recap everything that..."
"Good idea," said Dar, who seemed interested in those discoveries that Ekleos knew nothing about.
Dar turned to the knight sitting behind his desk, leafing through his notes and rummaging through his drawers.
"Egea, give me the prince's notebook."
"Just call me Ekleos."
Egea handed the notebook to Dar, and they both looked at each other in surprise.
"He must have hit his head," said Egea, sitting back down after drinking the last drop of wine from the glass that was on the small round table next to the desk. Dar turned to look at Ekleos.
"Everything is written here, from the first time you saw it to the last. I tried not to leave anything out, but if you remember anything else, don't hesitate to write it down."
Ekleos ran his fingers over the brown notebook, it had no title or decorations and the corners were folded. It wouldn't attract the attention of prying eyes, but knowing Dar, he was sure that the inside held some secret worth discovering.
"Anyway, don't hesitate to visit me when you find out." Dar got up and gathered a few things from his desk. "I must go. My wife will soon give birth, and I don't want her to be alone."
Ekleos smiled slightly at Dar's contained joy. His teacher was a prudent, serious, and responsible person, and seeing him nervous was amusing.
"Master Dar." Ekleos stood up and approached the man. "I'm sure everything will be fine. I'm looking forward to meeting your son."
Dar smiled and thanked him before almost running out of the room.
Ekleos ordered Egea to guide him to his chambers, she finally lead him there, not without first remarking on how demanding her prince was.
He was glad he didn't run into anyone else on his way there. He closed the door, leaving Egea outside, who reminded him not to forget to meet his family for lunch and that she would come to escort him.
He looked around the room; it wasn't his. At least, it wasn't the one he used in his previous life, although he already suspected as much when he entered the south wing instead of the west wing on their way here.
It was spacious enough to meet all the needs of a prince, from the large bed on the right-hand wall, the breakfast table on the left, and the large window on the wall opposite the entrance door that illuminated every corner of the room.
He found it strange to see so many books on the shelves in the room, as well as a few sheets of paper with notes here and there. Such disorder was not proper for him, but at that moment he couldn't care less.
He put the notebook that Master Dar had given him in a drawer in the nightstand closest to the bed. Although he was curious about its contents, he wasn't quite ready to take on any more worries. He sat on the edge of the bed and closed his eyes; taking a deep breath, he tried to quiet the chaos in his head.
He glanced at his hands once more, then at the dressing table‒a long table with a mirror draped in a white cloth. He frowned and approached it. On the table, he could see a couple of grooming tools, but what caught his attention were a couple of jars piled up on the left side.
He picked up one of the jars containing a dark brown ointment with burgundy flecks. From the smell it gave off, he could distinguish poppy among other scents he did not recognize. He put the jar back in its place and looked at the others suspiciously. He grabbed the cloth covering the mirror and with a tug, made it fall, revealing his reflection.
His breathing became ragged, he hardly recognised himself. He was the same, but much had changed in him, his former black hair and brown eyes now manifested in dark brown hair and golden eyes. His features remained the same, now marked by dark circles under his eyes, pale lips and hollowed cheeks.
He let the blanket fall from his hand and stood up in front of the mirror. He touched his cheeks and chin, noticing a barely visible fuzz. He must be close to coming of age.
His appearance seemed ridiculous to him; there was no muscle, only bones and a skin that was too pale.
Ekleos sat down in the chair in front of the dressing table and looked at his reflection with surprise and resentment.
Resentment towards the gods who had stripped him of his strength.
There was no vigour in him, only the fragility of a sick body.
He unbuttoned his shirt, but before reaching the third button, something fell to the floor and he bent down to pick it up. In his palm lay his sister's lock of hair. Ekleos was surprised that the gods had left it for him, although perhaps they had done so to ensure he did not forget his mission.
He had to keep it somewhere no one could find it; nor could he lose it, for it contained a fragment of her soul.
He searched the entire room for a suitable place, but none seemed safe. Finally, he found some gold bracelets, no wider than four fingers. At first glance, they looked like ordinary jewellery. By pressing a spring, imperceptible to the naked eye, hidden among the reliefs of the design, the bracelet opened, revealing a secret compartment inside.
He hid the lock of hair in the compartment, closed the bracelet, and placed it on his left wrist. The metal was cold, but it warmed to the heat of his skin.
Ekleos raised his hand, watching the sunlight streaming through the window dance on the gold. No one would find it.
Three knocks on the door and Egea's voice brought him out of his thoughts. The emptiness in his stomach deepened.
It was time to see his family again.