That night, after I collapsed from pushing myself too far,
the world fell into silence.
Three days passed before I woke again.
When my eyes slowly opened, the first thing I saw was the faint, golden light of a lantern, trembling softly in the dark like a heartbeat refusing to fade.
Moonlight filtered through the curtains, weaving gentle patterns on the wooden floor.
The room was quiet.
Peaceful.
Almost unreal.
Then I felt it, warmth.
A soft, steady warmth holding my hand.
I turned my head slightly, and there she was.
Mother.
Her head rested lightly on the side of my bed, her hair messy and unkempt, as if she hadn't left my side for days.
Her hand still held mine, fingers intertwined, like she was afraid I might disappear if she let go.
For a moment, I just stared at her, at the tired lines under her eyes, the faint redness from sleepless nights, the gentle rise and fall of her breath.
She looked… fragile. Yet stronger than anyone I'd ever known.
The lanternlight flickered, brushing her face with a warm hue.
Without realizing it, a lump formed in my throat.
"…Mother?"
Her eyes opened, tired, but soft, filled with that same warmth I could never quite describe.
"Caelus,"
she whispered, her voice trembling between relief and exhaustion.
"You're awake…"
Before I could say anything, she pulled me gently into an embrace.
Her arms were shaking.
"I thought I'd lost you,"
she said, her voice cracking mid-sentence.
"You wouldn't wake up, your heartbeat was weak… I—"
Her words broke into silence, and I could feel her tears fall onto my shoulder.
The warmth of them struck deeper than any pain I'd ever felt.
I hesitated, then slowly wrapped my arms around her, weakly, but enough to hold her close.
"I'm sorry,"
I said softly.
She pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes.
"Don't say that,"
she whispered, brushing her hand against my cheek.
"You have nothing to be sorry for."
But she was wrong.
Inside, something heavy pressed against my chest.
The truth that I wasn't truly her son, that this love, this warmth, this fear she felt… didn't belong to me.
Yet she gave it anyway.
And that made the guilt even sharper.
I swallowed hard, forcing a small smile even as my eyes blurred.
"You shouldn't have worried this much. I'm sorry for making you cry."
Her lips curved into a trembling smile.
"You're my son, Caelus. Worrying about you is something I'll never stop doing!"
Her voice was gentle, but firm, like a promise carved into her soul.
For the first time, I couldn't find an answer.
I wanted to tell her the truth, that I wasn't who she thought I was, that she was wasting her kindness on someone who didn't deserve it.
But the words never came.
Because right then, her love felt real.
And I couldn't bear to break it.
So instead, I gripped her hand tighter.
"I'll be fine,"
I said quietly.
"I promise."
She looked at me, and for a moment, the fear in her eyes faded, replaced by something purer.
Faith.
"Good,"
she whispered.
"That's all I need to hear."
After a long silence, she dozed off again beside me, her hand still holding mine.
I looked at her, really looked, and something inside me shifted.
This woman… she stayed beside me for 3 days.
She didn't know the truth.
And still, she loved me.
How could I ever repay that?
I raised my free hand, brushing away a tear that had fallen without me noticing.
My vision blurred, and for a moment, the world looked like a painting smudged by trembling fingers.
"I don't deserve this,"
I muttered under my breath.
The words trembled, barely a whisper, fragile, like the light of the lantern beside me.
I turned my gaze toward the window.
The moon hung there, soft and pale, draped in clouds like a tired guardian who had watched too much pain from above.
Her light spilled through the curtains, painting my mother's face in silver warmth.
She was still sleeping beside me, her breathing steady, her hand never once letting go of mine.
And in that stillness… the truth struck harder than any wound.
'I'm not her son.'
That thought clawed at my chest like a living thing.
No matter how many times I tried to bury it, it always came back, whispering, reminding, mocking.
'I'm not Caelus.
I'm someone else.
A stranger wearing his skin.'
'I didn't ask to be here.
I didn't ask to take his name.
To take his face.
To take his place.'
Yet every time she calls me "son", every time she looks at me with that unshakable love in her eyes…
I feel like I'm stealing something sacred.
Her affection.
Her memories.
Her grief.
It's like living inside a borrowed dream, beautiful, but never truly mine.
I clenched my fist, trying to steady the storm inside.
My chest hurt, as if the truth itself was tearing through me.
"Why… me?"
I whispered to the silence.
"Why this world? Why this face? Why this family?"
There was no answer.
Only the faint hum of the lantern and the distant cry of night birds outside.
I could feel the tears forming again, hot and silent, sliding down my cheek before I could stop them.
"I'm a thief,"
I murmured.
"I stole his place."
My throat tightened.
I wanted to scream.
To confess.
To tell her the truth, that the boy she loves is gone forever, replaced by someone else.
'But how could I?'
She had already lost her son once.
To take away the illusion of his return would be to kill him all over again.
And I couldn't do that to her.
Not to her.
I looked at her again.
At the hand still holding mine.
At the warmth that refused to fade, no matter how broken I felt inside.
Something stirred in me, faint, fragile, but real.
Maybe this isn't about who I was.
Maybe it's about who I choose to be now.
Maybe I can't give her back her son...
But I can give her someone who will love her just as fiercely.
I wiped my tears and took a shaky breath.
The air felt heavy, yet lighter than before, as if something invisible had finally loosened its grip on me.
"I'll protect them both,"
I whispered again, firmer this time.
"No matter what I am. No matter what I become."
The words didn't sound like guilt anymore.
They sounded like a vow.
I looked up at the moon, that pale, distant witness to everything I'd never understand.
And for the first time, I didn't feel like a stranger beneath it.
Maybe… just maybe…
This life, this family, this love, wasn't something I stole.
Maybe it was something I was given.
A second chance.
The moonlight danced faintly across my face.
My mother stirred in her sleep and murmured my name, soft as a prayer.
"Caelus…"
Hearing it now didn't hurt.
It healed.
And for the first time since waking in this world,
I whispered back, not as an impostor,
but as a son who finally accepted the name he carried.
"I'm here, Mother."