Chapter Two: A New Birth
The sky was overcast, but the breeze that swept across Instaria brought with it the promise of a new life. In one of the quiet neighborhoods of the city, inside a simple room warmed by a fireplace, a first cry arose, small but powerful, as if announcing the beginning of a new chapter in the book of destiny.
"He is born!" the midwife exclaimed joyfully as she lifted the baby towards his weary mother.
Maria wiped the sweat from her brow and looked down at her baby with tearful eyes. "How beautiful he is... He has your eyes, Julius."
Julius Giovanni, a man in his thirties with a friendly face and the air of a man accustomed to travel and trade, approached and carefully took the baby in his arms.
"Alexander... His name will be Alexander," he said with a calm smile, staring into his eyes.
"A strong name, for a strong boy," Maria whispered, reaching out to touch her baby's cheek.
Thus, Iskandar Giovanni was born, the first son of a middle-class merchant family known in Instaria for its honesty and morals. Two years later, Maria gave birth to twins: a girl named Allora and a boy named Alfred, completing Giovanni's little family.
The years passed, and the child grew up surrounded by the love of his parents and the tenderness of his siblings. He wasn't special among his peers, but he was curious, asking many questions, and loved watching the stars and listening to the stories of travelers.
On his fifth birthday, the small family organized a simple celebration for his birthday. The house was filled with laughter and fragrant aromas, and Maria decorated the table with a small cake she had handcrafted.
His five friends—Liam, Rafael, Denzel, Aaron, and Zayed—were there, playing and having fun as if the world knew nothing but joy.
But what no one knew was that that night would change everything.
When the lights dimmed and the house fell silent, Iskandar slipped into bed and wrapped himself in the blanket. He closed his eyes, and in a moment between wakefulness and dreaming, images began to creep into his mind.
Scenes of cities he didn't know, languages he hadn't learned, battles and pens, kings and peoples, many faces... and an old man bearing his old name: Mark Henry.
It wasn't just a dream. It was his life.
He saw himself writing books about immortals, debating scholars, standing in the courts of history, growing old alone, dying without a family... and then rising again.
At first, he thought he was observing someone else's life, as if watching it through glass. But something in his heart told him the truth.
"I... That was me..."
At that moment, Iskandar slowly opened his eyes.
The room was silent, and the night still loomed, but it wasn't the same as before.
In the eyes of the now fifty-year-old, there was a new awareness... and a new chapter had just begun.