The sound of hurried footsteps echoed faintly, followed by the rustle of fabric and whispers of urgency.
"Master is awake! Call the doctor, quickly!"
The voices were muffled at first—blurry shapes and echoes floating around in darkness. Then, gradually, the world began to focus, and each word felt like a drop of water splashing against the surface of his thoughts.
"Doctor, why isn't he opening his eyes yet?"
"He's gained consciousness. Give him a moment—his body and mind are still adjusting."
Where… am I? The thought came slowly, uncertain. Did I die? Is this… a hospital?
Then, his eyelids fluttered open.
The bright light stung, forcing him to blink a few times before things cleared. He found himself lying on a wide bed draped in velvet sheets, in a room unlike anything he'd known—large arched windows, carved furniture, and soft golden light dancing across the walls.
"Xarl, can you hear me?" asked a calm male voice.
A woman knelt beside him, her voice trembling with emotion. "Sweetie, do you see me? I'm your mother."
Xarl? Mother? he thought in alarm. Wait… is that what they're calling me?
The doctor leaned forward. "Let him breathe, my lady. He'll regain his strength soon. I'll leave the medicine—please ensure he gets proper rest."
As the doctor bowed and exited, the woman placed a cool hand on his forehead.
"Xarl dear, how are you feeling?" she asked gently. "Can you sit up?"
He tried to speak but hesitated. "Excuse me… Who is Xarl? I think… I was in an accident. This must be the hospital, right?"
The woman's expression faltered. "Dear… don't you remember me? I'm your mother."
Mother? No, my mother never looked at me like this—with worry, with love. And what's wrong with my voice? It's… higher. Softer.
Then he glanced down. His arms—smaller. The people—taller. No, not taller. I'm… smaller.
"Can you bring me a mirror?" he asked, trying to stay calm.
"Of course," the woman said, signaling a maid.
When he looked into the mirror, his heart dropped.
A pale-faced boy with dark sapphire eyes and messy chestnut hair stared back at him. The image was unfamiliar. Foreign.
This… this isn't me. Did I… reincarnate? Is this a dream?
Panic threatened to overwhelm him, but he clenched his fists under the sheets.
"Are you alright?" the woman asked again. "Do you feel any pain?"
"No… Mother," he replied slowly. "But it seems I've… lost my memory."
Her eyes welled with tears. "Oh, my dear. That's alright. You're alive—that's all that matters. Let's not worry about the rest."
She stroked his hair gently. "I'll have soup sent up. Your father and siblings will visit tonight. Just rest, sweetheart."
After she left, he lay in silence.
So I really did die… But this time, I woke up in a world that feels so different. Her touch… her words… this warmth… Is this what it means to have a family?
For the first time in years, his chest ached—not with pain, but with something unfamiliar.
Maybe I shouldn't tell anyone I'm someone else. Not yet. No one would believe me. And… this life, it feels like a chance.
That evening, the room burst into life as three figures rushed in. A tall man with gentle eyes, and two younger ones who looked like perfect reflections of each other.
"Xarl!" they shouted, hugging him tightly.
"Be careful!" the mother chided gently, wiping away tears.
"Xarl has lost his memory," she explained. "But he's okay."
"That's alright," the father said, his voice full of restrained joy. "You're alive. That's all that matters."
"I had soup earlier," Xarl said, unsure how to respond to so much affection.
"Tonight, we'll have a grand feast!" his mother declared. "Our precious child is awake after three months!"
"I'm Sharly," said the girl. "This is Rovan—we're twins. You're our little brother now, so we'll spoil you forever, Pudding!"
"Pudding?" he blinked.
"It's cute, isn't it?" Zenin smirked.
A laugh, small and shy, escaped his lips.
Later, at dinner, he looked down at the beautifully arranged dishes—roasted meats, fruit stews, golden breads. But a lump formed in his throat.
"This is all for me?"
"Of course," his mother said proudly. "I made your favorites."
As the warmth surrounded him, he suddenly broke into quiet sobs.
"Sweetie? What's wrong?" she asked, alarmed.
He shook his head, unable to speak.
I never… felt this before. I never cried like this. I never had this warmth. Why now? Why after I've already died once?
Later, as the stars twinkled outside and sleep pulled him closer, he whispered to himself.
I don't know what this world is. I don't know why I'm here. But… maybe this time, I'll live. Really live.