Warm sunlight filtered in through narrow stained-glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the old stone floor. The scent of ink, parchment, and aged wood filled his nostrils — a scent so familiar, it made his stomach tighten. The soft creak of an old dormitory bed, the rustle of robes hanging from a wall peg, the faint echo of students murmuring outside…
His eyes snapped open.
He sat up abruptly, the wool blanket falling from his chest.
"This isn't the palace…"
He turned to the side, expecting to see his sword — the Arcblade — leaning against the nightstand. It wasn't there. Instead, a beginner's training blade, worn and dulled from years of drills, rested beside a modest wooden chest.
His hands trembled as he held them up.
Younger. Smaller. No callouses from war. No scars from the battle with Jojk. His body felt… incomplete.
"No. No, this is—"
The door creaked open.
A familiar voice, higher-pitched and full of unearned confidence, filled the room.
"Yegr! You're gonna miss breakfast again if you keep dreaming about mage-girls and dragons!"
Yegr turned.
It was Darin — his old roommate. Short, wild auburn hair. Smirking with a half-eaten apple in hand. He hadn't seen Darin in years. Not since… not since the siege of Vardun, where Darin had died.
Yegr's mouth went dry.
Yegr (softly): "Darin…?"
Darin (raising a brow): "What, you forget my name now? You hit your head or something?"
Yegr stood slowly, eyes wide, heart pounding. He stumbled toward the mirror above the washbasin. His reflection showed a boy of sixteen, not the battle-hardened man of twenty-four.
Yegr: "This isn't possible. I was… I was just at the King's hall. I'd been knighted. I rested for five months. I was ready to return to the borderlands."
Darin (frowning): "Uh… you were asleep. You've been asleep, Yegr. Since yesterday. Academy exams are in a week, remember? You've been stressed. You muttered something about Jojk last night. Who the hell is that?"
Yegr slowly turned, his face pale.
Yegr: "He's a name you shouldn't know. Not for years. He was a warlord… a sorcerer. I defeated him. I killed him. I—"
He stopped himself. Darin was staring now, half-concerned, half-convinced it was a joke.
Darin: "You been reading those weird prophecy scrolls again? Yegr, it's just school. No dark lords, no chosen one business. Just books, dueling drills, and awkward dances with the nobles' daughters."
Yegr (muttering): "I died. Or no… I slept. I asked for five months. Five months to rest. And then… I woke up here."
A silence fell between them.
Darin bit into his apple again, more slowly now, watching Yegr carefully.
Darin: "Look, if you're trying to get out of sparring with Master Rolen today, this is a weird way to do it. But hey — if you are having some kind of vision… maybe tell me who wins this year's magical duel tourney. I've got bets riding on Sila."
Yegr: "Sila breaks her ankle on the third day. Elen wins with a firebound glaive. And you—"
He choked on the words. He remembered now. Darin had never made it past the fourth year.
Yegr (quietly): "You die in the siege of Vardun. Defending the western walls. You bought us time to escape. You were… brave."
Darin stared. The smirk was gone.
Darin (softly): "What?"
Yegr: "You died. And I held your hand as you bled out. Your last words were about your sister, that you wished you'd written to her more."
Darin (defensive): "Okay, seriously, what's gotten into you? That's not funny. My sister's fine. And I'm not dying anytime soon."
Yegr exhaled and leaned against the wooden post of his bed.
Yegr (voice trembling): "I'm not dreaming, Darin. Or maybe I am, but it's too real. The texture of the wood. The smell of the ink. The way my heart aches seeing your face again. I think… I've gone back."
Darin stayed silent for a long moment. Then finally spoke, hesitant.
Darin: "If this is real… if you really did go forward, win some war, and then came back… what are you going to do with it?"
Yegr (looking at his hands): "I don't know. But I remember everything. Every battle. Every death. Every mistake."
Darin (swallowing): "Can you change it?"
Yegr looked out the window. Beyond the towers of the academy, birds flew in gentle spirals. Somewhere in the world, evil still slept. Still young. Still waiting.
Yegr: "I don't know if I can change it. But I have to try."
(To be continued...)