The smell of burnt wood and copper filled the air. Elias Northwood laid on the cold dirt staring at the gray sky. He tried to move his hand but his fingers were slick with blood. It was not just his own. It belonged to the people he loved.
Why? The question echoed in his mind like a drum. Why did this happen?
He looked to his left. His father laid still. To his right, his mother and his wife were gone. They were not soldiers. They were not politicians. They were simple people who wanted to live in peace. Yet, the war did not care about their innocence.
"What did they do?" Elias whispered. His voice was a dry rasps. "What was their crime?"
There was no answer. Only the sound of distant crows and the crackle of fire remained. Elias felt a deep hole in his chest that had nothing to do with his wounds. He had spent his life trying to be a good man. He wanted a normal life. Now, he was just a dying man in a ruined village.
His vision began to blur. Shadows crawled in from the edges of his sight. He felt the cold touch of death pulling at his soul. Elias bit his lip until he tasted more blood. He did not want to go . . . . . he wanted justice. He wanted to make the people responsible pay for what they did.
But his body was failing. He wanted to laugh at the unfairness of it all, but he had no strength. He wanted to cry for his wife, but his eyes were too tired.
As his eyes finally closed, the world went silent. Then a voice spoke, it did not come from the air but from inside his mind. It sounded like the ringing of a silver bell.
"A poor soul" the voice said. "You suffer from the flames of a war you did not start. You carry the weight of consequences that were never yours to bear."
Elias thought he was hallucinating. Was this what the end felt like?
"I can save you" the voice continued. "I can give you the chance to stand before the storm. I can give you the power to protect your family before the first spark of war begins. Would you be willing to try again, Elias Northwood?"
Elias did not hesitate. Even if this was a dream born of madness, he would take it. He grabbed onto the voice like a drowning man.
"Yes" he thought. I am willing.
"Then go" the voice whispered. "I will pray for your success."
The darkness exploded into white light. The silence became deafening.
Suddenly, Elias gasped. He felt a soft bed beneath him. The smell of smoke was gone. Instead, he smelled fresh bread and pine needles. The morning sun was warm on his face.
He sat up quickly, his heart racing. He looked at his hands. They were clean. There was no blood. There were no scars. He was back in his old room in the village.
The door creaked open. His mother walked in with a basket of laundry. She looked young. She looked alive.
"Elias? You are up late," she said with a gentle smile.
Elias felt a lump in his throat. Tears blurred his vision as he jumped out of bed and hugged her tightly. He held her as if she might disappear if he let go.
"I will protect you," he whispered into her shoulder. "I will protect all of you this time."
His mother pulled back. She looked at him with a confused smile. "You are acting very strange today, Elias. Go wash your face. Breakfast is almost ready."
She patted his cheek and walked toward the kitchen. Elias stood alone in his room. He took a deep breath. His heart was still thumping against his ribs. He was really back.
Suddenly a sharp sound rang in his ears.
Ding!
Elias jumped. He looked around the room but no one was there. Then a blue screen appeared in front of his eyes. It floated in the air. It moved when he moved.
[System Initialization Complete]
[Host: Elias Northwood]
[Status: Connected Successfully]
Elias froze. He reached out to touch the screen. His hand passed right through the blue light. This was not a dream. The voice had given him a tool.
A new message appeared on the screen.
[Would you like to view your Attributes?]
Elias stared at the words. He felt a spark of hope. This was how he would get stronger. This was how he would save them all.
"Yes," he whispered.