He died on a Tuesday.
The world didn't stop.
The cars didn't brake.
No one screamed.
There was just glass.
Cold air.
Blood on the pavement.
And silence.
He didn't feel pain. Just... tired.
As if the weight of everything had finally slipped away.
And then—darkness.
Until something pulled him under.
Not into death.
Into something else.
That's when someone appeared before him...
a man he had never seen in his life.
"My time is up…" the stranger said, his voice trembling.
"What? Who are you? Where am I?" Kael asked, his eyes scanning the man. The stranger looked distressed—haunted, even.
"Take care of my sister, please," the man pleaded, stepping closer. His hand gripped Kael's arm. "I failed as a brother."
Kael stared at him. "Who are you?"
The stranger's eyes glistened with tears. "It doesn't matter. Just promise me… promise me you'll protect her."
Kael hesitated. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to go.
He was dead. And now, he was in some strange, empty place—nowhere—being asked to take on someone else's burden.
Since I'm already dead, might as well say yes, he thought.
"I promise to protect your sister, whoever you are," Kael said with quiet assurance.
The man gave a faint smile.
Then...
The ground cracked beneath them.
The air around them shattered like glass.
A soundless scream echoed through the void.
Everything broke.
The light, the silence, the man—
all of it turned to darkness and was swallowed whole.
Kael was falling again.
Only this time,
he wasn't sure where he would land.
****
He opened his eyes to a ceiling carved from obsidian stone and swirling runes. The air smelled of salt and incense. Heavy silk lay across his body, the fabric strange against his skin.
His heartbeat wasn't his.
His breath… deeper. Stronger.
He sat up, gasping and froze.
A mirror stood at the foot of the bed.
And staring back was a man with silver-white hair, pale skin laced with faint arcane markings, and eyes glowing faintly blue like dying stars.
"Kaelith."
The name echoed in his mind, too loud to be denied.
Footsteps.
A knock.
"My Lord Kaelith," said a voice, formal and unfamiliar. "The ceremony begins shortly."
Ceremony?
His throat tightened. "Where... am I?"
But the voice was already gone. And the mirror kept watching.