The sunlight was sharper, brighter than Arslan remembered. The air smelled of freshly baked bread, grass, and the faint tang of magic—far from the smoke and ash of the battlefield he had just left. He blinked, taking in the sight before him.
The gates of Gideon Academy loomed tall, gleaming in the morning light. Its walls shimmered slightly, enchanted to give the building a sense of timeless majesty. Students of all races bustled in the courtyard—humans, dwarves, elves of every hue, rhea, and even the occasional dragonkin walking on two legs. Laughter, chatter, and the occasional small magical spark filled the air.
Arslan stepped closer, unconsciously reaching for his hair. His fingers brushed the black strands but then he noticed them: streaks of white.
…What is this?
He stared at the reflection in the glass of the main hall. The streaks ran like veins of silver through his dark hair. He flexed his fingers, and a dull ache ran through his soul, a lingering reminder of the Soulbreaker Rite he had cast.
A voice cut through his thoughts.
"Arslan! You coming or just staring at the glass all day?"
He turned to see Kael, his childhood friend, grinning broadly. The same messy hair, the same mischievous spark in his eyes. Kael was a spear user, a little taller than him, and already looking confident in this new life.
"I… yeah, coming," Arslan said, forcing a smile.
Kael elbowed him playfully. "Whoa, your hair! White streaks already? Trying to look like some big-shot mage?"
"Something like that," Arslan muttered, brushing it aside. He didn't have the energy or the right words to explain what had really happened.
They walked together through the crowded courtyard. Around them, students practiced minor spells, ran sparring drills, and practiced small feats of skill. Arslan could detect faint traces of magic—a lingering gift from the life he had lived—but only passively. He could sense the potential, the strengths and weaknesses in others, but could not influence it or create magic himself. Kael, of course, could detect nothing.
"Bet you'll be watching people all day instead of talking to them," Kael teased. "Same as always?"
"I just… notice things," Arslan said quietly. He knew that even the smallest observation could make a difference later.
The academy's main hall drew them forward. At its center floated the artifact used for sorting students into Houses—glimmering softly, waiting for the morning's evaluations. Students lined up in small groups, whispering and nudging each other nervously.
Arslan's eyes swept the crowd. He caught subtle hints of magical potential here, the beginnings of raw strength there. No one else seemed aware of it, but for him, the world had changed. Every face carried a secret about what they could become.
"Let's survive the sorting first," Kael said, nudging him forward. "Then we can see who's the loudest, the strongest, or the dumbest in this school."
Arslan let himself smile. Step by step. One day at a time.
They reached the artifact, the glow reflecting in Arslan's eyes. Today was the first step of a second life—one where he could protect his friends, grow stronger, and maybe, just maybe, correct the mistakes of a future that no one else would remember.
And as he stepped closer, brushing the white streaks from his eyes, a small thought settled in his mind:
I won't fail this time.