Zay's eyes snapped open, his breath hitching as he jolted awake. His mind reeled for a moment before the realization sat in, he was back. Back in the body of Zay Yuso, as always.
A quiet groan left his lips as he ran a hand over his face. "God… I'll never get used to the pain of those damn trucks." His voice was barely above a whisper.
Slowly, he pushed himself up from the bed, his muscles stiff from disuse. He turned toward the large window, stepping closer as his fingers brushed against the wooden frame. The familiar view stretched out before him, the same rolling hills, the same endless sky.
He exhaled slowly. "I can't believe I'm seeing this again…"
Closing his eyes for just a moment, he let the weight of it all settle before turning his attention downward. The same old white robes clung to his frame, just as they always did. Shaking his head, he made his way to the corner of the room, where shelves lined with neatly folded robes awaited. His hand instinctively reached for his favorite—an all-black robe.
Sliding it over his shoulders, he pulled it on before stepping toward the wooden door. With a smooth motion, he slid it open and stepped into the dimly lit corridor. The familiar scent of aged wood and incense filled the air as he made his way toward the living room.
As he entered, all eyes turned to him.
Two older women, their bodies covered in elegant robes that left only their faces and hands exposed, sat with rigid postures. Two men in flowing red and blue robes lounged on the floor. And in the corner, a pet bird ruffled its feathers, letting out a soft chirp.
For a brief moment, silence filled the room.
"Zay!" One of the women sprang to her feet, rushing toward him.
Her eyes were wide with panic as she grabbed his hand. "What are you doing up? You need to rest!" Her voice trembled with concern.
"You're not supposed to be moving yet," she scolded, her grip tightening. "The doctor said at least a year before you can even think about getting up!"
Before Zay could argue, his older brothers were already on their feet. Without hesitation, they picked him up effortlessly and carried him back to his room, setting him down onto the bed as if he were made of glass.
His sister shot him one last concerned glance before stepping out, leaving him alone with his brothers.
"Zay, what the hell are you thinking?" Renzo asked, arms crossed over his chest.
"I'm fine," Zay muttered. "Don't worry about me, Renzo."
Renzo let out a sharp sigh, shaking his head. "Yeah, right. Stay in bed. I'll bring you some stew—Mother just finished making it a few minutes ago."
Without waiting for an argument, he turned and strode out of the room, disappearing down the corridor.
Zay turned to his other brother, his voice steady. "You can just go... I'll be fine." His words carried an unusual calm, his amethyst eyes shifting past his brother to the open window where birds soared freely across the evening sky.
A brief silence stretched between them before his brother exhaled softly. "... Alright. I'll come back in a few hours." With that, he rose from the chair, his footsteps muted against the thick, intricately woven rug that covered the wooden floor. The door closed behind him quietly, leaving Zay alone in the dimly lit bedroom.
The room was grand yet subdued, lined with dark wooden bookshelves filled with books, books on medicine, books on the world, books about the ocean, books from other nations, and several different kinds of books. A soft amber glow flickered from enchanted sconces on the walls, casting elongated shadows that danced against the deep violet tapestry draped above the massive bed. The headrest, carved from dark obsidian wood, bore intricate engravings of constellations and swirling arcane symbols—remnants of a forgotten language.
He exhaled, sinking deeper into the bed, the silk sheets cool against his skin. His fingers traced absentmindedly over the detailed etchings on the headrest as he spoke aloud to himself quietly.
"This universe... it has no connection to Earth in the slightest, yet Earth-born creatures exist here. Cows, moose, pigeons, cats, tigers—countless others. It's always intrigued me. I've never been able to understand why. Perhaps there is a connection… but so deeply buried."
A breeze drifted in through the open window, rustling the heavy velvet curtains. The scent of rain lingered in the air, carried from distant storms beyond the horizon.
Zay sighed, leaning back, dusk spilling into the room and casting a faint hue across his pale skin. His eyes glowed, reflecting the fading sun as he murmured to himself.
"There are certain places within the Eight Realms that serve as hidden crossroads, linking them together. But where they appear? That is always uncertain. It shifts depending on the day, the events that lead up to their discovery… and in some lives, I never even had the chance to leave this realm. I simply never found the path before death took hold of me. Though, the Trials/Sequences can also serve as a connection to these realms as well."
His voice faded into the quiet hum of the evening, the soft flicker of candlelight casting shadows across the ornate walls. Moments later, the door creaked open, and his brother, Renzo, stepped inside, carrying a bowl with an intricately detailed rim, adorned with white and golden crosses etched into the ceramic. A wooden spoon rested against the edge, steam rising from the hearty stew within.
Renzo exhaled deeply, shutting the door behind him with a quiet thud before making his way over to Zay. He pulled a chair up beside the bed, the legs scraping softly against the polished wooden floor, and extended the bowl toward his brother.
"Are you alright?" Renzo asked, his hazel eyes catching the dim glow of dusk filtering through the window, making them shimmer.
Zay took the bowl, feeling the comforting warmth against his fingers before scooping up a spoonful of stew. He took a slow bite, savoring the rich, seasoned broth before responding, his voice quiet yet steady.
"I'm fine... don't worry so much."
Renzo scoffed lightly, leaning back in his chair, though his expression remained firm.
"You know I have to worry. The last time you said you were fine, you went out—only for me to spend three days searching the entirety of Ovaris before finding you passed out under a damn tree." His tone was sharp, but beneath it was an undeniable warmth. "That's what family does. Even if we act like we hate each other just for fun, you should know by now—I'll always be there to help."
Zay paused, lowering his spoon slightly as a faint, knowing smile crossed his lips.
"I know... trust me, I know that very well."
Silence settled over the room as Zay took a few more slow bites of the stew, savoring the warmth before finally setting the spoon down in the empty bowl. Renzo, noticing he was finished, reached over without a word, taking the bowl and wooden spoon into his hands. He pushed himself up from the chair, and made his way out of the room.
The quiet sound of footsteps echoed through the corridor as he passed through the dimly candlelit halls, eventually stepping into the living room, where their mother stood near the sink. Without needing to ask, she took the bowl from his hands, rolling up her sleeves as she began washing the dishes.
Back in his room, Zay exhaled softly, pushing himself up from the bed. His muscles ached slightly, but he paid it no mind as he crossed the room, stopping at the open window. The evening air had turned crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth. With a slow, practiced motion, he pulled the window shut, pressing his fingertips against the engraved seal etched into the frame, locking it in place.
As if on cue, the clouds above thickened, turning dark and heavy. Within moments, the first drops of rain tapped gently against the glass. Zay grabbed a nearby chair, dragging it closer before settling down. His gaze followed the raindrops as they clung to the window, merging together before streaking downward in uneven paths—some fast, others slow, tracing delicate patterns against the glass.
"This... is what I want forever," he murmured under his breath, barely loud enough to be heard over the soft rhythm of the rain. "Just slow days… watching as time passes by, unnoticed."
His eyes drifted half-shut as he leaned forward, resting his elbow on the low wooden ledge beneath the window. His open palm supported his head, fingers lightly curled, as he simply watched—the world outside fading into the quiet comfort of falling rain.