"Survive the void," I heard someone say.
Void?
"And return to fulfill your duties."
Return where?
And my duties—what are they? I only remembered a name.
Edrin.
But who is he? I can't remember. I opened my eyes and found myself floating. There was nothing but darkness around me, as if it had swallowed me whole. A never-ending night with no stars.
Oh. I saw one—but it was far away. How would I reach it?
My head hurt, and I couldn't remember my name. Who am I?
"Caelan. It's time to wake up. Now." I heard someone. The voice was so soothing, like divine honey dripping.
"WAKE UP, DAMMIT!"
I jolted, and something pulled me toward that star.
But then something happened, I dont remember what. I felt like losing my consciousness.
...
I opened my eyes eyes just to see a fist coming towards and my instincts kicked in. I turned to my right and deflected the attack, and with a swift motion punched my attacker.
There was a long silence. I rubbed my eyes to see carefully and then I saw—a kid on the ground. Did I just punched a kid? Oh god no.
The kid was around ten years old and had red hairs. I remember someone with that hair color but who was it? Even his face felt familiar.
"Ah—kid you okay? " I stepped forward and gave my hand for him to take. But instead he just glared at me and got up by his own.
I noticed something different but didn't realized what it was.
"YOU DARE TO HIT ME? You bastard." His nose flared as he continued, "Did you forget your place, huh, worm?" He pushed me back.
His nose was bleeding from the punch.
"You are only supposed to crawl on the ground," he whispered near my face, close enough for me to see his cavities.
Well, this kid doesn't brush.
But wait a minute—why is he taller than me?
I saw his knees bend forward. Then I saw my hand. Small, like a child's.
Then I realized—I had somehow become a child.
I looked around. We were in some training ground. Kids the same height as the red-haired one stood near us in a circle, watching with wide eyes. Some were laughing, mocking someone.
Then I felt someone hit my head from behind, and I fell, losing my consciousness.
…
I opened my eyes for the third time and prayed to God to never throw me into a shit situation like that again.
I saw the ceiling, with some paintings drawn on it. They were beautiful. Like, really beautiful. I noticed my surroundings, and it was a very elite room—maybe it belonged to royalty or a rich merchant.
I checked my hands. Still small—still soft, like they had never held a sword.
The door opened and a woman stepped in.
She was dressed in simple clothes that were too neat to be common. The quality of her clothes were good—like richie rich good.
She froze the moment she saw my eyes opened.
"You're awake," relief flashing across her face."thank the gods"
She came closed and placed a hand on my forehead, cool and practiced." I told you not to provoke him."
I tried to sat up, felt my head throbbing. but she stopped me by putting her hand on my chest, pushing me back on bed. "Don't move yet. Blow was serious and you bleed out a lot."
"Who are you?" I asked, hearing my voice—high-pitched. I am definitely a child.
"Oh—maybe it's because of the blow. I am Sasha, your personal maid," she answered, smiling.
"And who am I?" I tried to find my identity.
"You are Zeron Solare, second son of Sir Warren Solare. Your father is the personal knight of His Majesty," she said, smiling like she hadn't just messed up my mind.
That red-haired bastard is the father of this kid.
The door opened and he walked in.
The room seemed to shrink as he stepped inside, tall and broad-shouldered. His presence heavy and suffocating.
His red hair was tied back neatly, his expression carved from stone. He didn't rush to my side.
Well who pissed in his tea this morning making him so mad.
But he showed his anger, I just knew it.
His eyes swept over me—once, then shifted to Sasha and then to the window.
"So," he said, voice flat. "He woke up."
"Yes, master," she continued standing with her hand in front. "Young master's injury was-"
"That's enough. " He raised his hand, cutting her off without even looking at her.
Her face suddenly dropped.
His gaze returned to me, sharp and distant. Not concern. Not relief. Just disappointment.
"You embarrassed yourself," he said. "In front of everyone."
"If you're going to carry my name," he continued, turning away, "at least learn not to disgrace it."
Then he left, the door closing behind him like a verdict.
Sasha sighed, still looking at closed doors.