The night didn't feel strange at first. Just wet pavement, flickering streetlights, and the buzz of a broken sign above the corner store. I had walked this path a hundred times, plastic bag swinging at my side, phone in my other hand. The rain wasn't even heavy, just that annoying drizzle that soaks into your hoodie before you notice. I should've turned around. I should've just gone home.
But I heard something.
It was quiet. A shuffle. A whimper. I turned my head and saw them, three men crowding a girl, cornering her against the alley wall. Her eyes were wide, her lips trembling like she wanted to scream but didn't dare. Something in me moved before I could think.
"Hey!"
They paused. All three turned toward me, like wolves sizing up a stray dog. I didn't care. I stepped between them and the girl, my heart hammering in my chest. "Leave her alone."
One of them laughed, but the others hesitated. Maybe it was my eyes. Maybe they thought I had a weapon. I didn't. But they backed off. One muttered a curse under his breath as the girl stumbled free, barefoot and crying, and bolted into the dark.
Relief hit me of what I have just done, just for a second.
Pain. Sudden, sharp, and all-consuming. Like fire exploded in my chest. I staggered back, clutching my shirt, feeling something warm and wet spill through my fingers. My knees hit the pavement. The drizzle turned into a downpour, and I couldn't breathe.
The sky spun. Everything blurred.
The men shouted. Tires screeched. Screams cut through the air and then was gone. My efforts were for nothing. Someone must've called the cops. I think I heard sirens. But it didn't matter. I was already fading.
The last thing I saw was the blur of red and blue, and a doctor's face staring down at me under white light. His eyes widened. His lips moved. I couldn't hear a thing.
And then he vanished.
My efforts were useless, wasted on nothing.
My death.
Worthless.
It felt like falling into water. No weight. No pain. Just the deep, dark pull of something I couldn't fight. I didn't know if I was dead. I didn't know if I was dreaming. All I knew was that I wasn't in that alley anymore.
A gust of wind tore through the silence. It just pushed me, Fast. Wild. Spinning through black, until black turned to light.
And then I was in the pair of arms.
Warm, gentle arms. I opened my eyes and saw a woman holding me. Her face was soft, unfamiliar, and glowing in the morning light. She was smiling like I was the best thing she'd ever seen. I wanted to speak, but my body was tiny. Weak. A baby's cry left my throat.
I was… reborn.
The years that followed were strange. The language was different, the world unfamiliar, but the woman raised me with patience. Her name was Lira. She wasn't my real mother; well, I didn't think of her as that. We lived in a small town near the mountains of Voltaria.
Quiet, peaceful, but tense. There was always talk of war, soldiers passing through, flags changing colors in the distance. Still, my days were simple. I helped Lira with chores. Learned the local tongue. Kept my past a secret, hidden in the back of my mind like a dream I couldn't wake from.
One rainy afternoon, I was cleaning under my bed when I felt something, it was a grimoire, I didn't think those existed in this world but one was in front of me.
Not just any book, a grimoire. Bound in leather, etched with strange runes, and humming with something I couldn't explain. I opened it and felt a jolt run through my fingers.
Wind.