After the confident declaration of their conflicting identities, each "Kamrik" looked at one another with slight shock.
This was going to be a long day.
The blood-eyed Kamrik poked the knight in the chest.
"What do you mean you're Kamrik? I'm Kamrik!"
Before the knight could unleash his annoyance, Kamrik raised his hand.
"Look — before you all start fighting over who's the superior clone, let's figure out what the hell is going on first. Where are we? And why are we here?"
"I agree," the lanky version said smoothly, stepping between them. "We need answers, not bickering."
"And maybe explain why you can touch each other but not me," Kamrik added.
The blood-eyed one gave an unsatisfied tsk and turned away.
Drama queen.
The knight seemed to recollect himself. He turned to Kamrik, placing his blade parallel to the ground and resting both hands atop it.
"I must apologize, young man. It seems I was about to act unpleasantly again."
He paused.
"My final moments were… intense. I was going through much. And then I died — only to awaken here."
That shifted the mood.
"Wait. You died too?" the lanky one asked. "I died and came straight here."
"As did I," the blood-eyed one said proudly. "A glorious death. Though being beheaded was less than ideal."
"Mmm… same," the floating one muttered lazily.
They all turned to Kamrik.
He crossed his arms, hand resting on his chin.
"Same here. I died. But before I got here, I was somewhere else. A white space. I touched these glowing dust lights. Then I ended up here."
Actually…
Where was here?
For the first time since waking, he properly examined the room.
A strange wave of nostalgia washed over him.
It was small. Minimal. Only the essentials.
A queen-sized bed in the center. Drawers flanking it. Silk pillow sheets.
A sturdy desk stacked with papers and writing tools.
And the window.
Behind the floating one.
Sunlight streamed through, casting warm evening light across the room.
Beyond it—
Three tall spires piercing the sky.
A stone castle between them.
His heart skipped.
"This… this is…"
"Valthrune Academy," the knight finished quietly.
His old school.
His old dorm.
"Did we travel back into the past?" Kamrik asked in disbelief.
The apparitions did not react with the same shock, but the revelation clearly affected them.
"That explains where we are," the lanky one said. "Now we need to understand how and why."
"You're right."
Something clicked.
"You all said you came here immediately after dying, correct?"
They nodded.
"But I was in that white space first. You didn't experience that?"
They shook their heads.
That confirmed it.
The white space was connected.
"I touched colored dust lights," Kamrik said slowly. "When I did, I saw memories. And in one of them…"
He pointed at the blood-eyed Kamrik.
"I lived your life."
The room went quiet.
The blood-eyed one's expression darkened.
Before he could respond, the floating one clapped his hands lazily.
"Alright. I think I've figured it out."
All of them stared at him.
"You have?" Kamrik asked cautiously.
The floating one sighed.
"I may look inactive, but I am listening. And I am definitely the smartest here."
His eyes were no longer lazy.
The laziness drained from his posture.
They were cold. Analytical.
"I assume you all feel it. The mana tether."
Kamrik frowned.
The knight spoke instead.
"It is understandable you don't sense it. You've only just used mana. But yes — there is a faint tether linking us to you."
The blood-eyed one sneered.
"What does a mana tether do?"
"Think of it as a binding," the knight answered. "It ties aspects of individuals together."
"The soul," the floating one finished.
"Yes we are in this case tethered to your soul," he continued. "Our existences are linked to yours."
Kamrik stiffened.
"What?"
The floating one continued calmly.
"We all died and appeared here. You alone experienced the white space. You touched the lights. You received memories."
He looked around.
"I believe those dust lights were our souls."
Silence.
"Impossible," Kamrik muttered.
"There were more than seven," he added quietly.
The floating one frowned slightly.
"Now we've introduced even more confusion. Seven? I was under the impression you had only touched the four of us here."
He gestured lazily around the room.
"You mentioned tiny sparkles of dust before. That aligns perfectly with the form you described our souls taking."
Kamrik stiffened.
He was right.
There had been far more than seven.
A massive sea of lights.
Way more.
Almost to an unfathomable scale.
The floating one continued.
"And who said that place had to be the land of death?"
Kamrik's eyes narrowed.
"The land of death is decay," he shot back. "Black skies. Rotting earth. Still air. That place wasn't like that at all. It was bright. Calm. Almost sacred."
"Exactly," the floating one replied. "We only know of one divine realm — the land of death. That does not mean it is the only one."
He tilted his head.
"It is far more likely that you arrived in another divine realm entirely. One that houses souls."
Silence settled.
If each light was a life…
And there were that many…
How many people had died?
If the world ended—
Was it everyone?
The floating one continued.
"There are different versions of us. Different mana signatures. That suggests multiple dimensions. A divine realm might not house just one."
"That can't be possible…" Kamrik whispered.
The floating one pointed at him.
"You are the link."
"Huh?"
"If there were seven lights, where are the others? Why are we in the past? Why are there multiple versions of us?"
He leaned forward slightly.
"You have the answer. Or part of it."
Kamrik blinked.
Then his eyes widened.
"The memories."
The floating one gave a lazy thumbs-up.
"Your origin spell likely allows you to read memories."
Conceptualizing his mana had only allowed him to control it.
It didn't mean he understood the nature of his origin spell — only that he had stopped it from devouring him.
But now—
The agony and the memories made sense.
"It's not just memories," Kamrik said quietly. "It's emotions. Senses."
His voice steadied.
"I can read a soul. I can live the life of that soul."
The rush of so many different lives must have overwhelmed his brain with information.
He swallowed.
"I've lived and can live your lives."
Reactions varied.
The lanky one looked away, faint guilt flickering across his face.
The floating one remained indifferent.
The blood-eyed one stared at him with feral intensity.
The knight's eyes held hope.
The knight stepped forward.
"Young man," he said gently, "I understand this is a heavy burden. You endured much pain to awaken."
He bowed his head slightly.
"But you are the only one who can uncover what has happened to us."
The concern of the knight filled his heart.
Kamrik grinned.
"Don't worry, Uncle Knight. I'll be careful. My mana's stabilized now."
The knight still looked concerned.
"If there is anything I can do, tell me."
Kamrik thought for a moment.
"Protect my body," he said with a cheeky grin. "Isn't that what pathfinders do?"
The knight paused, then burst into laughter.
"Hah! You're right, my boy! I had nearly forgotten."
The lanky one mimed draping an arm over Kamrik's shoulder.
"I'll help too. As much as a ghost can."
"Alright," the floating one muttered. "Wake me if he starts starving."
Kamrik turned to the blood-eyed one.
The red-eyed version met his gaze with open hostility.
"I do not appreciate my life being violated," he said coldly. "But I am not foolish. If this grants answers, I will tolerate it."
His gaze sharpened.
"But do not dig where you should not."
Kamrik felt a tug in his chest — in his heart.
The tether.
"Go only to what is necessary."
"Or else."
Kamrik swallowed.
"I promise. I won't intrude on anything private."
They each gave subtle nods.
Kamrik moved back to the bed.
"Alright. If too much time passes and I start dying of malnutrition, wake me up."
"I will," said the knight.
"You got it," said the lanky one.
Kamrik lay back against the silk sheets.
Entering the gray sea was easier this time.
Like flexing a muscle.
He looked down at the sludge-like ocean.
He didn't know which life he would fall into first.
But he hoped it was not the beheading one.
And he dove.