Always struck down and pushed all during my childhood, beaten and made the pariah in my whole school for all the higher and lower grades. My friends then and until recently have always betrayed or left me. I never knew why or what would make this happen. I was just a stupid country boy. I was ostracized by my peers always, in my earlier years. Now 27 I have maybe 2-3 good friends but I keep them all at arms length never committing to be best friends with them. Now I waste away, my mind on the edge at all times never going all out with the things that I want to do or say. Until that night.
The late news murmured in the background as he wound down, preparing for sleep. He valued consistency, the lack of surprises. His life was a well-ordered canvas, each brushstroke intentional, each color muted and harmonious. He lived within the comfortable confines of his own making, a semi-introvert content in his quiet existence.
That night, a series of frantic, distorted text messages started coming in. They were from a number he didn't recognize, but the sender claimed to be "Liam's friend"—Liam being a casual acquaintance, a friend of a friend he'd met once at a quiet gathering. The messages were bizarre, increasingly agitated, accusing him of things he couldn't comprehend, laced with terms of endearment that made no sense. He tried to politely explain, to disengage, but the texts grew more unhinged, spiraling into delusional jealousy.
He heard a pounding on his door, a frantic, desperate rhythm that shattered the quiet. He hesitated, then cautiously peered through the peephole. It was Liam's friend, his eyes wide and unfocused, muttering incoherently, clutching something in his hand. Before he could react, the door splintered inward with a violent crash. Liam's friend lunged, still screaming about his "girlfriend," about betrayal.
There was a sudden, searing pain, a blinding flash of light, and then darkness. The world tilted, spun, and then ceased to exist. He didn't hear the subsequent sirens, or the horrified cries of neighbors drawn by the commotion. He was gone, a semi-introvert who had lived a quiet, measured life, extinguished in a sudden, senseless act of mistaken identity and twisted obsession. The city lights continued to flicker on, oblivious, a silent witness to a life ended, not heroically saving another, but tragically caught in the crossfire of someone else's delusion.
He opens his eyes to a soft, ethereal glow, unlike any light he'd ever known. The air was thick with the scent of blooming jasmine and something else, something ancient and deeply comforting. Before him stood a being of pure light, formless yet radiating an undeniable presence. A voice, resonant and gentle, echoed not in his ears, but in the very core of his being.
"Welcome, soul. You are in the realm of transition. Before you begin your next journey, there are questions that must be answered."
He felt no fear, only a profound sense of peace. "Questions?" he managed, his voice a whisper, yet it seemed to carry in the vast, silent space.
"Indeed. We seek to understand the tapestry of your existence, the threads woven by your choices and experiences. Are you ready to begin?"
"Yes," he answered, a strange mix of apprehension and eagerness stirring within him. He wondered what was about to happen.
"First, tell us about your earliest memories. How did the experiences of your youth shape the person you became?"
He paused, a flood of fragmented images and emotions rising within him. He spoke of the isolation, the constant feeling of being an outsider, the sting of betrayal. The words, once heavy with bitterness, now felt distant, observed rather than relived.
The luminous being listened, its presence unwavering. When he finished, the voice spoke again, tinged with a warmth he hadn't expected. "We see the patterns, the unfulfilled desires, the longing for connection. You were denied attention, dismissed, and that denial shaped your caution, your reluctance to fully engage."
A profound stillness settled. "But we also see potential. A quiet strength, a capacity for empathy that was never fully realized. It is not our usual practice, but there are exceptions. You will be given another chance. A return. And this time, you will be seen. You will be given the attention you were always denied."
"Awake, Adrain," the voice echoed, a chorus of whispers and thunder.
He blinked, and the ethereal glow of the transition realm vanished, replaced by a soft, pulsating light. Not sunlight, or moonlight, but an organic luminescence emanating from the very flora around him. Trees with leaves that shimmered like polished abalone, and flowers that pulsed with a gentle, inner radiance. The air, cool and moist, carried a faint, sweet scent, and a low, resonant hum vibrated through the ground beneath him, like a colossal crystal goblet being played. He tried to sit up, but his limbs felt… different. Lighter, more agile. He looked down at his hands, and they weren't his. These were longer, stronger, with an almost human quality to the skin, and nails that curved delicately. Panic, cold and sharp, began to prickle at him. He stood, testing this unfamiliar body, and found himself taller, his movements fluid and almost effortless.
"Who is Adrain?" he thought to himself. Then he felt a presence coming, like the being he saw just earlier. "What the fuck is going on?" he yelled.
A shadow drifted closer, and a faint, golden light seemed to emanate from within it, reflecting in Adrain's new eyes. "It is the name given to you. The name you embody in this rebirth, and the path you are now set upon."
"A name? What does it mean?" Adrain demanded, a flicker of the power he was meant to inherit stirring within him, an instinct to understand, to control.
"It holds many truths, child of the reborn," the entity intoned, its voice growing in solemnity. "It speaks of strength, immense and raw, capable of shaping mountains and forging destinies. It whispers of a noble spirit, of inherent worth and a destiny that demands leadership. But most profoundly, Adrain is the keeper of peace."
The words hung in the night air, each meaning settling into his very bones. A jolt of something raw and furious surged through Adrain. "Why?! Why this body? Why not my own?!" he roared, the question tearing from his throat, imbued with a power he didn't know he possessed. "What in the hell is going on? What kind of sick game is this, you… you luminous bastard?!"
"You have been granted this form, these gifts, for a purpose yet to unfold. The power will rise within you, and the mantle of nobility will demand its due." The shadow seemed to lean in, its form becoming sharper, more focused. "But I ask you now, Adrain... which will you become? Will you be the strength that dominates, the nobility that rules... or the keeper of peace that heals and unites? For they are not always the same path."