The vortex of light that swallowed Aditya felt like a gentle yet irresistible current, pulling him through an endless corridor filled with the murmuring echoes of the cosmos. Aditya's senses ran wild, he felt warmth that soothed, then a startling cold, then warmth again that enveloped him, accompanied by a strange and intense pressure, as if his entire being was being squeezed through a narrow cosmic needle.
His memories of his previous life—the dreary gray cubicles, the bitter coffee aroma that always clung to him, the exhausted faces of his parents that continued to haunt him—remained intact and clear in his mind. They did not fade, but now felt distant, like recollections from a long dream he had just left behind, replaced by pressing new sensations and a returning, calming darkness.
Then, a faint pink light began to seep in, not a blinding glare, but a soft glimmer that slowly illuminated the darkness. He felt immense pressure around him, followed by unfamiliar sounds that somehow still seemed faintly familiar—like echoes of melodies from a forgotten world.
Muffled cries, anxious whispers, and then… a strong urge, an unavoidable push that propelled him forward. A strange, brief pain, as if his body was being torn from something, a sudden separation, and then cold air touched his skin for the first time.
He heard crying. Not the familiar cries of sorrow, but a loud, piercing wail. It took Aditya a few seconds for his consciousness to realize that the crying… was his own. It was a bizarre and almost comical realization. He was born.
Aditya's eyes slowly opened, but he could only perceive blurred masses of color and form, swimming in a soft haze. His vision was not yet focused; the world around him was merely an indistinct mosaic.
He felt the soft touch of incredibly fine fabric on his skin and a warmth that enveloped him, like a peaceful embrace. A truly new aroma assaulted his senses—something rich and profound like unknown exotic spices, mixed with the fragrance of flowers he had never inhaled on Earth, and a strange, undefinable scent that captivated his senses with its indescribable uniqueness. This was not the smell of Jakarta or Tokyo; this was the scent of a completely different world.
A soft, melodious, yet tired voice whispered near him. The language was entirely new to him, a series of alien sounds. Aditya understood not a single word uttered, only catching the tones of profound relief and affection in the voice.
"He is born… he is so handsome, Roric," the voice whispered, its tone like a soothing melody, though he didn't know what "handsome" or "Roric" meant.
Then, a deeper, firmer male voice spoke, also with the same relieved tone he caught from the woman's voice. "Thank goodness, Seraphina. Our son. He is healthy."
A woman gently lifted Aditya's tiny body. Her movements felt smooth and practiced, as if this was not her first time holding a baby. Close to his ear, he heard the steady, strong heartbeat from the woman's body, a comforting yet alien rhythm.
There was the warmth of her skin enveloping him, seeping through the soft fabric, and a faint aroma of expensive, distinctive perfume, different from any Earthly perfume he had known. Though he still couldn't see clearly, he sensed the presence of two large adult figures—the one holding him and the one who spoke—around him. They felt so close, so real.
Who are they? My new parents? The thought flickered in Aditya's still confused but gradually accepting mind, recalling God's promise of reincarnation.
He was an adult consciousness trapped in the fragile body of an infant. Frustration began to creep in. He wanted to move, to speak, to ask questions, but all he could do was squirm weakly and emit meaningless whimpers.
He no longer felt the chronic fatigue that had been his constant companion in his old life. His body felt light, supple, and… incredibly small. He tried to move his hands, and all he could do was clench his tiny fingers with almost no strength.
He ran his tiny hand over his face, feeling his smooth, supple skin, devoid of any trace of eye bags or wrinkles of exhaustion that once adorned his former face. Then, he lifted his hand and observed his minuscule fingers, so fragile, completely unlike his hands in his previous life.
Another whisper sounded, this time from another woman, perhaps a healer or midwife. Her tone was full of admiration. Aditya did not understand the words being spoken, but he felt a gentle touch on his head and grasped the essence that they might be speaking about his hair. He sensed a faint sensation on his scalp, a new and distinct texture.
Moments later, he felt his body being lifted again, this time by larger, stronger hands. It must be the man who spoke earlier, the one the woman called 'Roric.' He could feel the fresh, crisp outdoor air, slightly cooler but pleasant, and heard the rustling of palm leaves in the distance, a sound that reminded him of the gentle sifting of wind on Indonesian beaches, yet with a distinct, unfamiliar quality. A deep, clear voice, unmistakably Roric's, sounded near him, spoken with a formal yet proud intonation.
"By the blessing of Akua and the light of the Kaelani ancestors,"Roric's voice resonated, though Aditya still did not understand his words. He felt a cold, smooth object touched to his forehead, perhaps a gem or a small artifact, which emitted a strange yet non-threatening vibration. Then, he heard a series of sounds uttered with emphasis, as if a designation, a promise, a name directed solely at him. "We name our son, the successor to this lineage… Lysander Kaelani."
Lysander Kaelani. That sequence of sounds, spoken with emphasis and authority, seemed to engrave itself into Aditya's mind. Although he did not grasp the literal meaning of each word, there was something about it that felt alien yet also profoundly fitting, as if that name was truly destined for him.
He was an infant, just reborn. Based on the warmth of the silk blankets that swaddled him, the luxurious aromas in the air, and the respectful tones surrounding the two adult figures, he sensed that he was amidst luxury and influence, perhaps an important family.
He felt the fresh sea air and heard the rustling of tropical leaves in the distance, vaguely implying that he was now on an island. And in this new world, he recalled God's promise uttered in the cosmic void: a world full of swords and magic, a place where his destiny could be rewritten. This was the beginning of everything.
Little Lysander's eyes slowly closed. The irresistible drowsiness of a baby began to overtake him, drawing him into soft darkness. But this time, he slept with a new hope, a promise of adventure etched into his unforeseen destiny. He was no longer alone. He was Lysander, the unforeseen young baron, and his story had just begun.