For a while, the days blurred into one rhythm. Dawn meant be ready. Midday meant backs breaking under loads of stone, and evening meant the long, suffocating return to confinement. Though I had never known exhaustion like this, my pride didn't completely dissipate - not yet. Why? You may ask. Well I had a burning need to break out of this cycle. Every night I dreamed of my past life. The luxury, the marble halls, the power that bent men to my name. I wanted it back. Transitioning from silk sheets to straw stinking of sweat and mold every morning was eroding my very being. I began to think with a harshness like never before. When the guards barked orders inside, I seethed. "I am the esoteric, I am far greater than this petty place." I screamed inside, but no amount of pride would cure the problem.
I asked Elias to help me get stronger but our efforts collapsed against the wall of language. Sure I could understand simple conversation but his attempts at teachings never fully registered. "Ahh!" my voice cracked through the cell, showing my frustration. "This was your fault! As someone of this land, you should be able to explain in a way I can understand with limited access to this language. Can't you simplify your speech to match my current level?!" I tried to stay calm, though annoyance made itself present across my face. "I'm afraid not child. There is simplification and then there is outright intelligibility, I cannot bridge a gulf that wide for you. You have to learn the language fully if you intend to grow strong." Elias said, in his usual calm demeanor. "Child?" I laughed. "Last I checked I was 21 years old. That's not the age of a child." He only raised an eyebrow. The words bit at me more than they should— I walked over to the puddle in the corner of the room and to check out my reflection. Come to think of it, I haven't seen my reflection since I came to this world. "WHAT?!" I exclaimed. The face staring back at me was undeniably youthful. Though dirty and disheveled from the rigorous living conditions that have been my recent reality. It was younger. I ran my hand down my jawline, tracing smoother skin than I remembered, fuller cheeks. Sixteen. I can tell, I am sixteen now. Something had pulled me not only across worlds, but across years as well? The shock hit me like a brick. Being transported to another world was one thing, but age reversion? That is weird, too weird. I looked at Elias, his expression made his thoughts clear. You fool, did you really not know your own age. I laid in bed that night, turning the thought over and over. Transmigration was one thing, but age regression was madness. There has to be an explanation for all of this.
Fate shifted the next afternoon, in an almost laughable way. Elias and I had been assigned to fetch water from the well, delivering to another camp, further than any prior task. That was when a carriage rattled ahead, wooden wheels striking jagged stone. The jolt sent a leather-bound book tumbling from its load landing unnoticed in the dirt. My eyes narrowed in on the bundle of knowledge. "This is my chance, if I can obtain a book I can definitely decipher this language." I thought. Waiting for the right moment, I checked my right and left frequently, that's when I noticed the guards had decided to beat a fellow captive for faltering pace. This was it, this was my moment. I continued forward, slightly moving out of line, I casually stepped over the book, crouching as if something had caught my foot, then in one swift movement I snatched the book. Tucking it against my stomach beneath the grime of my tunic, my heart thudded louder than the nearby city. That same night, after the day's toils and lashings, and I was sure we were not going to be interrupted, I revealed my prize to Elias. Elias's tired eyes lit with a sudden fire. He reached for the book like a starving man reaching for bread. Opening and doing a swift check of contents. "You..do you know what this is?!" This is exactly what we need!" This was the first time Elias had shown such excitement. This must be good. The book was no epic or poetry. It was instructional-- basic lessons, diagrams, even notes scribbled in the margins. Nothing extraordinary outside of our current positions, but to us two men bound by a cruel fate, this was an opportunity, it was treasure.
So began the nights of scratching whispers and furtive lessons by dim lights. Elias guided me through the language letter by letter, word by word. The sounds did feel a bit clumsy at first, lacking the tempo I was accustomed to but my obsessive drive to break out of this reality forced me to carry onward. Days became weeks, weeks became months. And eventually I could speak without stammering, write without guessing, read without stumbling. It was during these nights that I began to notice something else as well, it wasn't only my mind which showed growth, my body was in pursuit. My arms that had once struggled with a bucket now moved with ease. The soft, pampered flesh of my past life was gone, replaced with hardened muscle. Even my breathing became steadier under strain. I loathed to admit it-- but the labor was reshaping me into something stronger than I had ever been. One night, as we both laid awake, Elias spoke. "Now that you can converse properly, I'd like to ask how you came to find yourself in this position, Reed." I contemplated what to say. "I doubt you'll believe my story as I still have a hard time accepting it myself, but here you go." I explained my life, another world full of luxury and comfort. My inherited wealth, my murder by a "friend". My awakening here, in a dense forest then being captured and thrown into confinement by a group of adventurers. Elias listened in silence, expression unreadable, neither fully believing nor fully rejecting. "Well if that is to be true, you have fallen a great deal indeed. And perhaps it has occurred to you that your so-called colleagues were the ones who planned your end? Hmm.. it seems Nobility works the same in any world, greed and treachery wear the same mask I see." That was the first time it had even crossed my mind. Could I have been betrayed by my "trusted colleagues?" Elias was right. Now that I think about it, I recall the father of the chick who killed me, my father's oldest "friend's" mood always turning sour when I arrived. I could see through his facade. Which only began after my father died and everything was left to me. Was I that unaware of my surroundings? Surely not, I was always in control. As I contemplated internally, Elias brought me back to my reality. "It changes nothing though. In this world, strength decides all. You'll need to understand the ways of battle if you want to survive, let alone achieve that dream of yours… let's begin with a basic lesson." Elias sat upright and began explaining the basic archetypes of this world. "There are swordsmen who hone their bodies into living weapons, tanks who anchor entire battle lines and turn flesh into fortresses, mages who wield fire, wind, lightning, even illusions. Summoners who call forth beasts from unseen realms. Martial artists who push their flesh to its absolute peak. Each path has its own risk. Each has its own limitations." Elias's voice grew harder. "But know this: all of them depend on MANA. It is life itself--flowing through us, through the air, through the earth. To live without touching it is to be prey." Listening intently, I leaned forward, eyes sharpened with the kind of hunger I hadn't felt since the first day of my inheritance. "Then I'll learn it. I'll master it." Elias studied me for a long while, then smiled faintly, almost bitterly. "I can feel the desire burning through him as it did for me at one time." Elias thought to himself. "Before we talk further, perhaps I should tell you who I once was." He straightened up, the shadows in the cell deepened.
And for the first time, I felt the weight of Elias's presence. He wasn't just a prisoner, he wasn't a cellmate, he was a man with a history-- a history with scars sharp enough to cut into my future.