The streets of the northern city were empty.
Snow drifted down lazily from the sky, sticking to rooftops, railings, and unfortunately, Kael's coat. The wind was sharp enough to cut through the layers of his clothing and straight into his bones. He pulled his collar higher, grimacing at the sensation.
Well, at least if the wind kills me, I won't have to deal with humans ever again, he thought dryly.
He had walked these streets countless times in his previous life, back when he believed in loyalty, friendship, and family. Funny how quickly the world could teach someone that all three were illusions. Betrayal didn't arrive with a dramatic announcement; it crept in quietly, settling like frost on a windowpane, unnoticed until it froze everything solid.
Family.
Friends.
Trust.
Gone.
And now?
Kael didn't care anymore. Not for anyone. Not for anything.
He had stopped expecting loyalty, stopped believing in kindness, stopped entertaining notions of honor or fairness.
Malice, he thought. That was all that mattered now. A cold, precise malice toward the world that had repeatedly ignored or betrayed him. If life was a river that wanted to drown him, then he would smile as it tried. If people wanted to stab him in the back, he'd sharpen his own knives first.
He exhaled a misty puff into the night, trying not to shiver.
The universe, apparently amused, decided to intervene.
His foot slipped.
"Oh, wonderful," he muttered, but it was too late. The ground gave way beneath him, and he stumbled forward into the icy river that ran through the heart of the city.
Water slammed against him, freezing and merciless. His arms flailed instinctively, but instinct was no match for physics. The current pulled him down, tugging at him like some personal vendetta. Every gulp of water burned in his throat; every second stretched into eternity.
Well… at least I'll have a good story for the afterlife, he thought, surprisingly calm.
Darkness swallowed him, icy and absolute.
When he awoke, the cold was gone.
He lay on a firm surface, the kind of firm that screamed "not a bed, but expensive enough to be uncomfortable." His head throbbed gently, and the air smelled faintly of herbs, smoke, and something cleaner—like polished wood.
He blinked at the unfamiliar ceiling. Wooden beams etched with intricate designs, patterns of swords and shields, crossed his vision. For a moment, Kael couldn't remember where he was. Then it hit him.
I didn't die. Great. Now I've survived and somehow got robbed… or worse.
Before he could get to his feet, a voice cut through the room.
"You're awake."
Kael turned.
A servant, plain clothes and arms crossed, leaned against the doorway, expression flat. No concern, no warmth, just mild irritation as if Kael's very existence was a minor inconvenience.
"You were out longer than expected," the man said. "Try not to make a habit of it."
Kael raised a brow. Thanks for the pep talk.
The servant didn't wait for a reply. "There's a banquet tonight. You're to attend. Try not to embarrass yourself."
And just like that, the man left, the door closing without ceremony.
Kael sat up slowly, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He touched his head, trying to make sense of the pounding and the strange ache. Something tugged at the edges of his consciousness. Memories that weren't his. Feelings that felt borrowed.
Then the name came to him.
Aleric Silverblade.
Sixteen years old. Northern lands. Born into a prestigious family known for fighting monsters beyond the borders. He had skills, heritage, and responsibilities—all things Kael didn't have in his former life. And yet… he could feel it immediately: the subtle scorn in every glance, the invisible weight of being unwanted, the faint suspicion of failure that clung to him like smoke.
He rubbed his temples.
Well… at least I didn't wake up as a farmer, he thought dryly. Small victories.
Looking around, he noticed more details: the walls were reinforced stone, the window overlooking the training grounds, faint sounds of clashing metal in the distance. Someone was practicing—likely a knight or student. His northern home.
The air smelled faintly of iron, cold wood, and the unmistakable tension that came from a household constantly aware of monsters lurking beyond the walls.
Kael, now Aleric, sat back against the bed. He couldn't deny it: it was harsh, it was alien, and it was terrifying. And yet… it was alive.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed movement. A shadow on the wall stretched longer than it should have. Subtle at first, like a trick of the light, but then it shifted, lifting as if it had intention.
Kael froze.
The shadow waved.
Slowly.
As if mocking him
.
"…Really?" he muttered under his breath. "You couldn't even scare me properly?"
The shadow lingered for a moment, then retreated into the corner as if embarrassed. Kael exhaled sharply, rubbing his eyes.
Alright, he said, leaning back. New world. New body. New rules. But at least I still have my sarcasm.
Snow continued to fall outside the window, soft and relentless. Somewhere, in the distance, a bell rang—likely the call to the banquet. Somewhere else, someone practiced sword strikes against the cold air. Life went on, indifferent to his existence, and that was… almost comforting.
Kael let his mind wander briefly. The currents of his old life and the reality of this new one collided: betrayal, loneliness, anger… survival.
He smiled faintly. Dry, humorless, but there nonetheless.
So, this is going to be fun.
Because now, nothing mattered. Not loyalty, not friendship, not family. Nothing. All that remained was him. His survival. And, if the opportunity presented itself… a little chaos for good measure.
The shadow, he realized, might not be the strangest thing about this world. But it was probably a good warning: things were already moving, and Kael—Aleric—had better keep up.
He stood, stretching stiff muscles. The banquet could wait a few minutes. Not that anyone would notice him, of course. But that was fine. He'd wait. Or, better yet, he'd make them notice eventually—on his own terms.
As he prepared to leave the room, he caught one last glimpse of the shadow. This time, it didn't wave. It watched. And Kael, for the first time in days, felt a small spark of… anticipation.
Alright, he thought. Let's see what this world has for me.
And with that, Aleric Silverblade stepped out into the chill northern air, ready to face a life that was already testing him—and possibly having fun doing it.