The wind gently caressed the tall grass, making the plain ripple like an endless green sea.
Sunlight filtered through a clear orange sky, dotted with white clouds tinged with orange.
???: ".............".
Lying on the grass, the young boy opened his eyes with considerable effort, his body numb and unresponsive to its own movements.
A shiver ran through him from head to toe: it wasn't just the morning chill, but the unsettling sensation of being... someone else.
???: "What is it?"
He brought his hands to his face and head, realizing with a mixture of surprise and incomprehension that he was no longer in his original body:
- His fingers were smaller, thinner.
- His arms were less muscular.
The feeling of lightness that washed over him made him slightly dizzy.
His bright green eyes reflected the sky and the grass, but he didn't quite recognize his own reflection.
At that moment, the young boy didn't know the shape of his face, nor even the color of his skin or his eyes.
The boy looked at his body:
He wore a white top adorned with green and gold embroidery that seemed to shimmer faintly in the sunlight.
A small turquoise cape billowed behind him, fastened at his neck with a wind-shaped brooch.
His soft, high boots sank slightly into the damp earth.
Everything about his appearance evoked lightness, grace, and a certain charm that didn't correspond to the feeling of weakness that consumed him.
He was dressed like a bard, the kind you might find in a tavern, singing tales of heroes who battled monsters and saved lives.
Sitting in the grass, he breathed deeply, smelling the fresh scent of wildflowers and damp earth.
His thoughts were jumbled.
??? :"Where am I…?"
He murmured.
??? : "And… who am I?"
The answer came almost immediately: he was no longer himself.
He was in the body of Venti, the young bard he knew from the stories, but he knew he wasn't just Venti: something within him, in his very essence, still belonged to who he had been.
??? : "Venti."
He didn't know where the name came from; all he knew was that it kept swirling in his mind as if he knew it by heart.
???: "I am Venti."
FFFFFFffffffff
As the wind continued to blow, the young boy, dressed in glass, still stood in the middle of a plain bisected by a path that undoubtedly led to a city.
Sitting in the grass, the young boy let his emerald-green eyes wander across the expanse of the plain, but his mind was elsewhere, lost in a thick, confusing fog.
He didn't understand what had just happened, or how he had gotten there.
A strange, almost unreal sensation washed over him:
He knew it wasn't his own body, but something within him persisted—consciousness, memory, the feeling of "I," the feeling that he was still himself.
Yet his memories were fragmented, like shards of glass scattered across the floor of his mind.
He tried to recall the exact moment everything had changed, but there was only emptiness, an oppressive silence that made him dizzy.
It's like trying to remember what happened to us before we were born. When we try to recall our past as children, we can quite easily distinguish our memories.
But when we try to go further, we find ourselves facing a black screen, yet we know that we did things.
Venti: "What happened to me...?"
He thought, his heart beating faster.
Each time he tried to visualize his last memories, he found only flashes, fleeting bursts of blurred images and scattered sensations, as if his memory had been washed away or rearranged.
He felt a strange nostalgia, a void he couldn't identify, an inner emptiness where something vital seemed to have been torn away.
It was like trying to complete a puzzle without knowing what it was supposed to look like.
He ran his hands over his face, almost expecting to feel the familiarity of his own skin, but what he touched was different, thinner, lighter, almost fragile.
His heart faltered for a moment at this strangeness, this realization that he was no longer himself.
Breathing felt labored, each breath reminding him of his body's otherness, and yet, he sensed a latent energy within him, like a dormant fire just waiting to be rekindled.
Venti: "Who am I?"
He thought of the voices he sometimes heard in his memories, whispers he didn't quite recognize, but which seemed strangely familiar.
Friends.
And despite the confusion, despite the fear, he perceived a glimmer of curiosity, an irrepressible urge to understand, to explore this new world and to understand his role within it.
As if he knew he had to go somewhere without asking questions.
He remembered the wind, or rather, the sensation of it in this body. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought that this power, now foreign to him, could be linked to him in a way he didn't yet understand.
Venti: "Is this really me... or am I just a prisoner of this body?"
He wondered, his mind swirling with unanswered questions.
Each thought plunged him into a mixture of fascination and unease:
He was aware of a power that didn't entirely belong to him, and at the same time, he felt that this power was calling to him, that he had a role to play, a destiny to fulfill.
But before all that, he had to understand.
Understand who he was now, and how this world worked.
A pang of frustration crept into his thoughts.
He wanted to remember, to find the continuity of his life, but there were only fragments of memories and a persistent emptiness.
Time seemed blurred, as if he had skipped a beat, a crucial moment he couldn't grasp, and yet, despite all this inner chaos, a feeling of determination was beginning to take hold.
Perhaps his memory wasn't complete anymore, but he knew that running away or giving in to the confusion would be pointless. He had to move forward, learn, understand, and one day, he would recover everything he had lost. He took a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill his lungs, and for the first time since waking, he felt a small flame of hope burn within him, fragile but persistent, like a timid wind heralding a coming storm.
Venti: "Well, I guess I can't stay here all day."
The young boy sat for a long time, letting his thoughts swirl and gradually settle.
Venti: "Come on, let's go."
Then, slowly, he decided to stand up.
His legs felt strangely light, almost weightless, as if each movement required less effort than he would have thought.
He took a few hesitant steps, feeling his feet sink slightly into the grass, then the firmer ground of a small path that wound its way across the plain.
The wind rose gently, caressing his hair and cloak, and he felt a shiver of strange familiarity. He could sense that he had a connection with this element, as if it were a part of him.
And it was.
Tap tap tap
Each step made him more aware of his lightness, the fluidity of his movements, and yet, he couldn't remember ever feeling such agility.
He raised one hand to the sky, trying to feel the breeze.
Until he noticed something to his left.
Venti: "Well, I guess I'm pretty lucky."
As he walked on, his eyes fell on a dirt path winding through the tall grass.
The path wasn't wide, just worn enough to suggest it had been trodden by many travelers over time.
Without knowing why, he knew he had to follow it.
No voice had spoken to him, no conscious intuition had guided him, and yet, a deep certainty emerged in his mind: this was the way he had to go.
Venti: "Just a moment!"
He paused for a moment, his hands lightly gripping his cloak, wondering how he could possess such knowledge when he had only just awakened in this unfamiliar body.
How could he know that a path was forming when many people passed by the same spot, crushing the grass and creating a straight line?
Curiosity and caution mingled within him as he stepped onto the path.
Each step seemed to awaken something within him, as if the very ground itself were reacting to his presence.
The path stretched before him, winding and mysterious, inviting adventure while suggesting that others had already walked it.
He inhaled deeply, feeling the fresh air and the crunch of the grass beneath his feet.
Venti: "Ha ha."
A strange familiarity brought a small smile to his face, even though he didn't understand where the feeling came from.
It was as if he had always known this path existed, as if a part of him—the part he didn't yet fully recognize—was confidently guiding his steps.
After all:
The wind reminds us that there is always something worth pursuing.
Even if Venti didn't know where that phrase came from.
Tap tap tap
As he walked, the soles of his shoes tapped against the ground of the path he was following.
The wind played with his cloak and his hair, enveloping him in
The feeling of freedom and contained power.
He didn't yet know exactly what he would find at the end of this path, nor what encounters awaited him, but he already sensed that this simple choice, to follow the trail, marked the beginning of a greater journey.
The plain seemed to open welcomingly before him, and for the first time since waking, he felt neither fear nor panic, only the quiet certainty that, whatever happened, he was on the right path.
Venti: "Let's hope I don't have to walk for days to meet someone."
Each step on the path reinforced this strange feeling:
- He was light.
- He was guided.
- And he was ready to discover this new world that stretched as far as the eye could see.
No matter how much he still didn't know, no matter how many things remained mysterious within himself, he had found his starting point, and that was enough to move forward.
A few hours later:
As his legs began to adjust to his new appearance, Venti had now left the plain and entered a forest.
Inside were enormous trees, bushes, rocks, and even a river whose flow he could hear, but he had already passed it.
Currently, his goal was to find someone who could explain his situation and perhaps even ask for help.
Brrrrrrr
But for now, he was hungry.
Touching his stomach after the rumbling, he realized he needed to do something called eat.
Venti: "I'm hungry."
The sensation of hunger surprised him, astonishing him with its intensity.
He hadn't realized he'd been awake for such a short time, and yet his body seemed to crave food and energy as if his entire metabolism had been reset and his stomach was empty.
Venti: "Since I'm in a forest, shouldn't there be something to eat around here?"
His eyes swept the surrounding plain, searching for something to eat, but the vegetation looked inedible and no animals seemed to be wandering nearby.
Then, around a small grove, a red apple glittered in the sunlight, hanging from a low branch of a solitary apple tree.
It seemed almost to beckon him, suspended there like an unexpected treasure in this strange world.
Venti: "Yes."
A smile blossomed on his face, a mixture of anticipation and hunger.
He reached out to grab it, but despite his best efforts, his fingers only grazed the smooth, shiny surface; the apple remained out of reach, motionless and stubborn.
It should be mentioned that Venti was only 1.57 meters tall, and the apple must have been about 2.5 or 3 meters away.
And so, his first mission in this new world begins.
Catch an apple.
Chapter 1: Waking Up in a New World
The End