The sun was just waking up over Elarion, its golden rays sneaking through Zairen's window like a thief, lighting up his room with a warm glow. But Zairen wasn't feeling the warmth. He was tossing and turning on his bed, his face twisted in pain, sweat dripping down his forehead. His eyebrows scrunched up like he was fighting something awful in his head. And he was—stuck in a nightmare so real, so terrifying, it felt like his heart was being ripped out.
In his dream, Zairen stood in a pool of blood. Everywhere he looked—death. Bodies were scattered all over, torn apart like broken toys. Arms cut off, legs missing, stomachs sliced open, guts spilling out. Blood was everywhere, soaking the ground red. Broken swords lay in the dirt, and the air smelled like metal and rot. It was like a huge battle had happened, leaving nothing but destruction. The world was silent, too silent—no birds, no wind, just a heavy, creepy quiet. Even the sun was too scared to show its face, hiding behind clouds that looked red, like the sky was bleeding. Zairen's heart was pounding so hard it hurt. "What is this place?" he whispered, his voice shaking. "Is anyone here? Hello?!" His shout echoed, but no one answered.
Then he saw her—a woman sitting alone in a white dress, right in the middle of all the blood. She was humming a soft, spooky song that made his skin crawl. It was pretty but wrong, like a lullaby sung in a graveyard. Zairen's stomach twisted as he yelled, "Hey! Lady! Can you hear me?" She didn't move, didn't even look at him, just kept humming, staring off into nowhere. He stumbled toward her, his boots sinking into the bloody ground. As he got closer, his heart stopped. Her white dress wasn't white anymore—it was soaked red with blood. Her long, shiny hair was wet, dripping with it, like she'd been dipped in a pool of red.
"Hey!" Zairen shouted, his voice cracking with fear and anger. "Who are you? What's going on here?"
She didn't stop humming. Didn't even look at him. His blood boiled, and he grabbed her shoulder, shaking her hard. "I'm talking to you! Why aren't you listening? Who are you?!"
Slowly, she turned her head. Her face was hidden by a thin veil, but her eyes—oh, those eyes. They were black, like deep, shiny holes that could swallow you whole. They were so beautiful and so scary, Zairen forgot how to breathe for a second. She smiled, her voice soft but sharp, cutting through his panic. "Oh, Zairen, you're here. I didn't hear you."
He froze, his mind spinning. "How do you know my name?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. "Where am I? Who are you?"
She laughed, a light, tinkling sound that felt so wrong in this bloody nightmare. "Oh, Zairen, you always forget me," she said, sounding a little sad but teasing, like she was playing with him. Her pout made his chest ache, like he should know her but didn't.
His head was a mess, full of questions. "I don't know you!" he snapped, his voice loud now. "Take off that veil! Maybe then I'll remember!"
She smiled wider, like she was enjoying this. "Oh, you want to see me? That's all?" She reached for her veil, pulling it back slowly, teasingly, until he saw the tips of her ears—pointed, like an elf's.
And then—pain. A sharp, burning pain exploded in Zairen's head, like someone was stabbing his brain. He screamed, falling to his knees, grabbing his head as his vision went blurry. Pictures flashed in his mind, fast and wild, like a storm. A garden full of bright flowers, swaying in the wind. A broken building, falling apart from some war. A rocky mountain, sharp and angry against the sky. The scenes changed so fast he felt dizzy, until—whoosh—he was somewhere else.
A forest, green and alive, but now it was burning. Flames ate the trees, the air thick with smoke. The woman was there again, standing in front of a boy with white hair—Adam, the hero. Zairen was on the ground, his body heavy, like it was made of stone. He couldn't move. Adam's voice was cold, full of hate. "Get out of the way, or I'll kill you both. Why ruin your life for him?"
Her voice shook, but she stood tall. "Because he is my life."
Adam smirked, cruel and ugly. "Anyone who helps a tyrant is a tyrant." With a horrible shunk, he stabbed his sword through her stomach. She gasped, her body shaking, but she turned to Zairen, her eyes soft. A tear fell down her cheek as she smiled. "I hope… we meet in the next life."
"NO!" Zairen screamed, his voice breaking, but his body wouldn't move. She fell, blood spreading around her like a dark flower. Adam laughed, a sick, twisted sound, and stepped closer, his sword dripping red. "Well, the tyrant's lover is dead. Your turn, Zairen."
Zairen's eyes burned with rage. "I'll kill you!" he roared, his voice shaking with fury. "I'll fucking kill you!" But before he could do anything, Adam's sword swung. Shunk. And Zairen head fall Everything went black.
Thud, thud, thud. Zairen shot up in bed, his heart racing like it was trying to escape his chest. His hands flew to his neck—still there, still whole. "Fuck," he gasped, breathing hard, sweat pouring down his face. His eyes stung with tears he didn't understand. "Who is she?" he whispered, his voice cracking. "Why do I keep dreaming about her? Why does it hurt so much?" His fists clenched, his nails digging into his hands until they bled. "And that bastard Adam… I'll rip him apart."
Knock, knock. "Master Zairen?" A scared voice came from the door.
Zairen's head snapped up, his anger flaring. "What?!" he yelled, storming over and throwing the door open. A young maid stood there, shaking like a leaf.
"P-Princess Elyra… she's leaving," the maid stammered, her eyes wide. "Lord Viscount wants you outside."
Zairen's jaw tightened. "Fine," he growled. "Tell him I'll be there in ten minutes."
The maid nodded fast, bowing and practically running away. Zairen slammed the door, the bang echoing in the quiet room. He leaned against it, letting out a heavy sigh. "Always one stupid problem after another," he muttered, rubbing his face.
He rushed through a bath, the hot water doing nothing to calm the fire in his chest. He pulled on a dark shirt and boots, his movements quick and angry, and stomped down to the mansion's courtyard. Outside, it was busy—horses snorted, servants hurried around, and a fancy royal carriage sat in the middle, its gold decorations shining in the morning sun. Elyra, his sister, was getting ready to leave, her face a mix of strength and sadness. Her long cloak moved in the breeze, her black hair shimmering in the sun.
Nearby, Seressia was holding onto her arm, begging. "Elyra, don't go!" she cried, her voice full of tears. "You just got here! Why do you have to leave already?"
Elyra smiled, but it looked heavy, like she was carrying something big. She ruffled Seressia's hair. "Oh, little sis, you know I have to. My birthday's coming, and there's so much to do. Uncle and Aunt can't do it all by themselves.and also i have surprise for you"Seressia's eyes sparkled with excitement. "A surprise? For me? What is it? Tell me!"
Elyra grinned, teasing. "Nope, not telling!"
Seressia pouted, tugging at Elyra's sleeve. "Come on, please! Tell me, tell me!"
Elyra laughed, giving in. "Okay, fine. Liona's coming!"
Seressia's eyes got big. "Wait, Liona's coming too? From the Holy Kingdom?"
"Yup, for real!" Elyra laughed, Seressia burst out laughing, her smile wide but a little tired. "It's gonna be so much fun! We'll hang out like old times, just you wait! And I'm gonna get you tons of gifts too!"
Elyra laughed, her eyes sparkling. "Okay, okay!"
Seressia grinned, her sadness fading for a moment, but then their dad, the Viscount, walked over, laughing loud. "Seressia, maybe talk to your dad sometimes? You always give me that mean look."
Seressia glared at him. "Don't bug me! I'm talking to Elyra!"
Elyra tapped her head lightly. "Hey, don't talk to your Dad like that!"
Seressia pouted, mumbling a quiet "Sorry" to the Viscount, who just laughed it off. "Elyra, you gotta fix your little sister. She never listens to me."
Everyone was joking, but then the Viscount saw Zairen standing off to the side, his face blank. "Oh, Zairen! Come say bye to your sister!"
Zairen nodded, his face hard, his eyes cold. Elyra looked at him, her eyes filled with something—maybe sad, maybe regret. He ignored her, looking away, and the air got heavy, like a storm was coming. Nobody said anything. The Viscount laughed awkwardly to break the silence. "Alright, you two, talk. Seressia, let's go." He took Seressia's arm, leading her away. She gave Zairen a nasty look, like she hated him, before going inside with their dad.
Elyra spoke first, her voice quiet but full of feeling. "Zairen… you okay?"
"Fine," he said, his voice short, his eyes on the ground.
"I'm leaving," she said, her hands twisting her cloak. "Will you come to my birthday? Liona's coming. I really want you there."
Zairen shrugged. "Don't know."
Her face fell, her eyes shiny with tears she didn't let fall. "Please, Zairen," she said softly. "Come."
He nodded again, not really looking at her, his face like stone. Elyra started to say something else, her lips shaking, but she stopped. She turned away, her shoulders dropping, and climbed into the carriage. The door shut with a soft thud. As the carriage started moving, she looked out the window, her sad eyes meeting Zairen's cold ones. He didn't wave, didn't move, just stood there. The carriage rolled away, disappearing into the morning fog.
Zairen stayed in the courtyard, alone, his mind burning with anger and pain. Liona. The healer in the hero's group. The priestess of the Holy Kingdom. The one who responsible for my kingdom destruction in my last life. His fists clenched so hard his hands hurt, his blood hot with rage. My best friend… yeah, right. A dark, angry laugh came out of him. "Not this time," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "This time, you're all gonna pay."
His lips twisted into a scary smile, his eyes shining with a dark promise. His heart was racing, not with fear, but with a hunger for revenge. "So much to do," he whispered. "So many to kill. Time to start training."
He turned and walked back to the mansion, his cloak flying behind him like a shadow. The game was on, and Zairen was ready to make everyone who hurt him pay.