Chapter 1 — The Crown of Thorns
When Daniel opened his eyes, he was staring at a ceiling of carved stone — arches etched with saints and angels. His lungs burned, but the air was cool and heavy with incense.
He sat up. The bed beneath him was vast, draped in crimson silk. A fire roared in the hearth. The armor on the wall gleamed gold, not steel.
A young man's voice broke through the haze. "My lord! You awaken at last!"
Daniel turned. A boy, no older than sixteen, stood by the bed — dressed in medieval garb, his face pale with disbelief.
"Fetch the physician! Tell the Queen the prince lives!"
Prince?
Daniel swung his legs off the bed, steadying himself. His hands were not his own — slender, unscarred, with a signet ring bearing the lion of Aragon.
He stumbled toward a mirror and froze.
A stranger stared back — a man of twenty, with auburn hair, sharp gray eyes, and the bearing of royalty.
"What…?" he whispered.
Memories flooded in — not his own.Castles. Knights. Crusades.A father — King Alfonso of Aragon.A dying kingdom beset by Moors and greedy nobles.And a name: Leon de Aragón, Crown Prince.
The door burst open. A physician and two attendants knelt beside him, crossing themselves.
"By God's mercy, Your Highness lives! We feared the fever had claimed you."
Daniel — Leon — struggled to speak. "Where… am I?"
"In Zaragoza, sire. The royal palace. You've slept three days since the hunt. The fall from your horse—"
He stopped listening. His heartbeat thundered like drums. Every instinct screamed impossible. Yet the weight of the ring on his hand, the ache in his muscles, the scent of myrrh — it all felt real.
He looked toward the window. Beyond the velvet curtains lay a sprawling medieval city, its stone towers crowned by crosses, its banners fluttering red and gold. Bells rang from distant cathedrals.
Aragon.Medieval Spain.God answered me.
That night, Leon knelt alone before the chapel altar. Candlelight flickered across his face as he pressed the rosary — still somehow wrapped around his wrist — to his lips.
"Lord… is this Your will?" he whispered. "You've given me another life. Another war. Another chance."
The crucifix above him gleamed faintly, as though reflecting a fire unseen.
"If this is my penance," Leon said, voice steady now, "then I'll bear it. I'll build a kingdom worthy of You. I'll free these lands, and I'll carry Your cross as far as You'll allow."
He rose. The firelight caught his eyes — no longer Daniel's, nor wholly Leon's, but something reborn.
Outside, the bells of Zaragoza tolled midnight.
And a new era began.