Warmth.
That was the first thing Aerion felt.
Not the crushing pressure of infinity.
Not the cold silence of broken realities.
Warmth.
A gentle rocking sensation surrounded him, as if the world itself was breathing—slow, careful, afraid to disturb him. Sounds reached his ears next. Soft murmurs. A rhythmic heartbeat. A voice trembling with emotion.
"…He's breathing," the voice said, barely louder than a whisper.
"He's alive."
Aerion tried to open his eyes.
Light stabbed through his vision.
He cried out.
The sound was small. Weak. Helpless.
The moment it left his mouth, panic flooded him.
That's not my voice.
Strong arms pulled him close. A familiar warmth—one that didn't exist in any memory he could recall—wrapped around him. A hand brushed gently over his head.
"Hush… hush now," a woman whispered. Her voice shook, heavy with relief. "You're safe. You're here."
Here?
Aerion's thoughts were slow, scattered, like fragments drifting through fog.
I was… somewhere else.
Infinity.
The mark.
A sharp ache throbbed in his chest, and instinctively, he tried to move his hand—only to find it tiny. Fragile.
His heart skipped.
No…
His eyes finally focused.
A beautifully carved ceiling stretched above him, painted with symbols of suns, crests, and ancient beasts. Golden light filtered through tall windows draped in silk curtains. The air smelled of incense and clean linen.
This wasn't a battlefield.
This wasn't the threshold.
This was a room.
"A miracle…" another voice murmured.
This one was deep. Steady. Controlled—yet trembling beneath restraint.
Aerion turned his head slowly.
A man stood beside the bed, tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in noble attire trimmed with silver and deep blue. His hair was dark, streaked faintly with grey at the temples. His eyes—sharp and commanding—were red, rimmed with exhaustion.
Relief.
Fear.
Love.
All of it battled within his gaze as he looked down at Aerion.
"He survived," the man said quietly. "After all that… he survived."
The woman holding Aerion let out a soft, broken laugh. Tears streamed down her face as she pressed her forehead to the child's.
"Our son," she whispered. "He's finally here."
Son.
The word echoed in Aerion's mind.
Reincarnation.
The realization settled slowly, heavily.
He wasn't dreaming.
He had been born again.
Days passed like drifting clouds.
Aerion learned before he understood.
The woman was Lady Seraphine Valerion—his mother. Her presence was gentle yet unyielding, a quiet strength beneath warmth. She spoke softly, but when servants bowed, they bowed deeply.
The man was Lord Caelum Valerion—his father. Head of House Valerion. A noble family whose name carried weight across the kingdom of Astrael.
A noble house.
Power.
Influence.
And expectations.
Aerion listened as maids whispered nearby, careful not to be heard.
"The child nearly didn't make it."
"They say the mana storm during birth was unnatural."
"Lord Caelum didn't leave the chamber once."
Mana.
The word caught his attention.
This world wasn't normal.
As his body grew, so did his awareness. Though trapped in an infant's form, Aerion's mind matured rapidly. Memories lingered at the edge of his thoughts—blurred, incomplete—but the feeling remained.
Infinity was watching.
One night, as rain tapped softly against the tall windows, Lady Seraphine sat beside Aerion's crib, humming a quiet melody. Her fingers brushed his tiny hand.
"You scared me," she whispered, her voice breaking. "When you didn't cry… when your heart faltered… I thought I had lost you."
Aerion felt something tighten inside his chest.
Guilt.
She smiled sadly. "The healers said your mana reacted strangely. Like it was… resisting this world."
Her hand paused.
"But you stayed," she said softly. "You chose to stay."
Aerion's fingers curled around hers.
She gasped quietly.
"He's strong," Lord Caelum said from the doorway. He had been watching silently, arms crossed. "Stronger than he looks."
Seraphine glanced at him. "Caelum… do you think—"
"I don't know," he interrupted gently. "But whatever he is… he's our son first."
Those words settled deep within Aerion.
Our son.
For the first time since infinity had acknowledged him, he felt something unfamiliar.
Safety.
Years passed.
Aerion grew.
By the age of five, it was clear he wasn't normal.
Not a prodigy.
Not a monster.
Something… other.
He rarely cried. Rarely laughed loudly. His gaze lingered too long on the horizon, as if searching for something beyond the sky.
His tutor, Eldric, often frowned while watching him.
"His mana flow is strange," the old mage muttered one afternoon, fingers hovering above glowing runes. "It doesn't circulate like a child's should."
Lord Caelum stood beside him. "Is it dangerous?"
Eldric hesitated. "Not yet. But it feels… boundless. As if something is sealed."
Aerion stood quietly, pretending not to listen.
That night, alone in his chamber, he stared at his right palm.
The mark was faint.
Hidden.
But when he focused—
It pulsed softly.
The air around him trembled.
Aerion clenched his fist, breathing slowly until it faded.
"I won't lose control," he whispered. "Not again."
On his seventh birthday, House Valerion held a small gathering.
Nobles arrived in elegant attire. Servants bustled about. Laughter filled the halls.
Aerion stood beside his parents, dressed in ceremonial blue and silver. His mother adjusted his collar with a smile.
"Nervous?" she asked.
He nodded slightly.
She leaned closer. "You don't have to impress anyone. Just be yourself."
Aerion looked up at her.
If only you knew.
Later that night, as the celebration died down, Aerion slipped away to the balcony overlooking the capital. The city glowed beneath the stars, alive and peaceful.
For a moment, he allowed himself to believe this life could remain untouched.
Then—
The air shifted.
A presence brushed against his senses.
Subtle.
Watching.
Aerion stiffened.
Somewhere far beyond the stars, something stirred.
He pressed his palm against his chest.
"Not yet," he whispered.
Behind him, a voice spoke gently.
"Aerion?"
He turned.
Lord Caelum stood there, his expression serious but calm.
"You feel it too, don't you?" his father asked quietly.
Aerion froze.
Caelum stepped closer. "The world… watching you."
Aerion said nothing.
Caelum placed a hand on his shoulder. "Whatever path awaits you," he said firmly, "you won't walk it alone."
Aerion looked up.
For the first time—
He smiled.
And far beyond this peaceful kingdom…
Infinity watched.
And waited.