Kiur recoiled, falling backwards and away from Noah when he revealed Kiur’s identity—his real one.

Kiur stuttered, “H-how did you know who I was?” Never did Kiur disclose with anyone his true identity. Not to his mother, his brother, former friends or anyone else.

It didn’t settle right with him that someone here called him out by his true name. Even if that someone was akin to a deity.

“To defuse any confusion, no, I’m not a god nor a deity—although my situation is close to one,” Noah chuckled drily and scratched his beard, a habit Kiur didn’t like to see in anyone doing, ever. “I’ve received a message from an old acquaintance of mine to aid a group of young stragglers—if they happened to arrive here-.”

“Y-you know everything?” Kiur stuttered out, interrupting Noah. His chest constricted. Kiur felt as if he was exposed to his very bones before Noah. “You know who I am, and what’s wrong with me?”

“Know?” Noah raised an eyebrow. “Don’t get mistaken, child. Your situation isn’t particularly new. It’s more of a surprise what kind of mess you’re in. I can understand now why they asked me for help. You have people who care about you, you know? Even if you don’t realise it.”

Clenching his fists, Kiur looked away. His face was red; he was mentally tired and angry. He knew people cared about him, but he couldn’t help but push them away because he didn’t want to burden them.

Eventually, it led to leaving behind his former friends and his brother- No, he didn’t want to think or accept the possibility of his fate.

“What are your plans?” asked Kiur, perplexing Noah on how harsh the words came out. “What do you want from me?”

“What do you mean by what I will do?” Noah twisted his cane before stabbing the ground to whirl up the ash. “What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know, berate me! Say how horrible of a person I am when you know what I did!” Kiur was yelling; flames sparked from within his heart and spread out to his limbs.

The flames didn’t hurt him physically, not anymore, but they were tormenting him mentally for an event that happened because of him. He hated those flames. They represented his anger in so many ways that it suffocated him. It made him want to lash out unfairly at others so much. It was hard to control when you couldn’t keep yourself levelheaded.

Something Kiur lacked more and more lately. He wanted to be blamed because he knew he was at fault for everything. “Every mistake was my fault.”

“Listen, you have the wrong impression of me here.” Taking his cane into his hand, Noah stunned Kiur by hitting his head. “Your life is enough of a mess than to listen to an old, brittle man lecturing you. Besides, I barely know you as a person, nor are we friends. I’m not the best one to talk to you, but according to the ones who care about you, I’m the one who can help achieve this goal.”

Noah’s wrinkled face softened, and he coughed into his fist. Kiur started to worry about this frail old man, who should rather stay in bed than be up and talking. Kiur quickly picked up on how bad his condition was with his shaking hands, sinking eyes, and dry coughing.

“Your friends from far below wanted me to relay this message to you.” Noah’s brittle voice was harsh. His cane came to life like a snake, hissing at Kiur and then hardening to clay, taking the form of a clay tablet—similar to the ones from Kiur’s country.

Finishing up the transformation, Noah also manifested a pair of reading glasses on the bridge of his nose—which magnified his eyes just a little.

“Ahem,” Noah cleared his throat, bringing the tablet closer to his wary eyes. “‘Don’t burden yourself with too many troubles at once. Don’t let the world burden you down—you’ll lose yourself. I know you can’t remember our meetings to the fullest or your stay with us, but know that you won’t repeat the same mistakes. When the time comes, we will all help you through it.’” Noah finished, and the tablet turned back into his trusty wooden and green cane. “That’s what they said to relay to you. I don’t know the details, nor am I tasked to care, but for now, let’s handle the problems you had when coming to this world.”

“You mean… my rebirth?”

Noah nodded firmly. It was one of the oldest problems Kiur had not yet figured out for the past three years. How and why he had come into this world—with a body that wasn’t his.

Alongside all those memories and emotions, paired with daunting delusions in his everyday life.

“Ha ha,” Kiur could only force out a meagre laugh and buried his fists into the ash. “Then how should we proceed? And what trouble do you want me to open up with first? There is too much to unpack! I’m a mess!”

Kiur lashed out, and the earth underneath convulsed with fire, leaping at Noah and eating up his frail body. His face contorted to a pained grimace before he brushed the flames off with a whip and verdant flash of his cane.

“Berate it is then. Children need to learn to control their temper.” Noah’s dark, azure eyes flashed, and with his cane, he stabbed the ground once again.

The ashen fields vanished. The earth underneath churned, and waters sprouted out like geysers.

The force quickly swept away Kiur, swallowing wads of salty water and tossed left to right amidst the violent waves. He found himself in the middle of a storm, one so harsh that he had started to drown.

Only so many swimming lessons prevented him from sinking to the bottom.

“Take the cane!” Kiur heard Noah shouting and pulled Kiur into a small boat–unfit to ride in the storm or in open waters as small as it was. “Welcome to the Realm of Oceanus, child! How did you like the swim?”

“I didn’t!” Kiur complained, coughing up whatever water he swallowed. “What was that?”

“An experience,” Noah answered calmly against the squall. He leaned comfortably at the other end of the boat. “Boat rides are my favourite! Did it several times under less than optimal circumstances.” Noah smiled grimly, reminiscing about old and gloomy memories. “How about we find the one who understands you?”

“Understand me? What do you mean? Where is this person supposed to be, anyway?”

“What do you think?” Noah spread out his arms. The waves capsized them and Kiur was back in the waters, filling his ears but not drowning out Noah’s raspy voice. “Hit rock bottom, and you will find your answers, Child of the Dead.”

— ☾ —

There were possibly a few reasons why Kiur didn’t drown in the waters.

His eyes fluttered, and his mind barely clung to staying awake. The waters weren’t real, but the way they filled his lungs, he couldn’t imagine otherwise.

“‘It’s cold, so unbelievably cold.’”

The frosty waters stung Kiur’s skin. He felt like a little child sinking to the bottom of the sea.

“‘It’s cold. I am alone. I deserve to stay like this.’”

“You friendless bastard! I thought we were friends!”

“‘I did what I thought was right. If only you listened to me-”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“Lies! You are a liar! You are a jerk who’s bound to be rejected by everyone and stay alone!”

A pang of pain struck Kiur’s chest, and his heart ignited. A burst of steam and bubbles escaped his throat. Those were not his memories. They were ice cold, too foreign and personal.

“‘This is wrong,’” thought Kiur. “‘I never felt this cold.’”

Flailing with his arms, Kiur balanced himself in the deep waters and breathed out. It was all an illusion, and his mind played along. Another puff of smoke left his mouth, and Kiur could breathe—but kept descending to the bottom of the sea.

A dome of pale blue light beckoned Kiur to come closer.

It was a sphere of ice. Not big, just around 3 meters in diameter, and with a rough surface to the touch. It was cold and covered Kiur’s hot hands in frost.

“No, it was designed to let me feel it,” thought Kiur, and peered inside the sphere. He saw an argument unfolding—one that had happened just yesterday.

“Where do you plan to go?” inquired Kiur—the one inside the sphere—and grabbed Xander’s arm. “Do you have the slightest idea how dangerous the desert is at night?”

“I don’t care,” replied Xander and brushed Kiur away. “It’s better than sticking around with you lot. So out of my way, Idarien.”

Xander left the scene, but something was off. Kiur’s and Cylia’s expressions were indifferent—almost glad to see him gone.

“Whatever, we are better off without him,” huffed Cylia, and ate one of the date palms they harvested. “He was a jerk, anyway.”

“Agreed,” said Kiur, and turned his back to walk away. “He can die off in the desert for all I care.”

“That I can agree with.” Cylia laughed jeeringly, and Kiur joined her, crafting more insults about Xander as if the two hated him for a long time. “Who does he think he is? The lead character from a book? Does he think we will go after him?”

“He must think we are stupid. Did you pay attention to all his weird remarks? None of them makes any sense. Who does he try to impress with those big words?”

“Exactly, he will die friendless and alone as he was destined to back then–”

Flames shot out of Kiur’s hand—from the real Kiur—and burned away the edged surface and the image within the sphere. Kiur couldn’t stand this fake image. There was no way he or Cylia would ever talk like that.

At least not Kiur—Cylia could sometimes be a hard egg, but she wasn’t as vicious as the fake.

“Why am I seeing this!” Kiur exclaimed into the sea devoid of life. There were no fish, bubbles, or any light in sight. He was alone with the resurfacing image of Xander on the blue sphere.

He couldn’t stand how his and Cylia’s fake counterparts were acting like they wished only the worst for Xander.

“I have enough of this. Bring me back already!”

The sea quaked, and the sphere spun on its axle to project a different scene—one about Xander walking the desert alone at night.

“This is for the best,” shouted Xander, but he lacked any confidence to back it up. “It has always been like this and will remain that way. From the past to the present and the future.” Now Xander was sniffing with his nose and angrily whipped away the snot of his face, not realising he was shedding tears. “I am doing what is right. You hear me, you old man?”

The shout reached Kiur, right where Xander would yell at the moonlit sky.

“This is how it is supposed to go, isn’t it? The lone hero of the world, destined to remain forsaken,” Xander laughed in frustration and bit his lip bloody. “I hate it here! Get me out of here!”

The image blurred away. Kiur crossed his arms to contemplate on what he saw. “Is this what I was supposed to see? Xander was reborn as well? Frankly, I am not even surprised.”

Everything about Xander made sense now. All of his actions, his mannerisms and many of the comments he made struck him as an odd wizard, but Kiur thought there was more to it. Looking back, it infuriated Kiur—especially Xander’s obnoxious comments, as if he was better than anyone else.

“What about Cylia, who travelled with us?” Kiur wondered. Maybe she was in the same situation as them, and they ended up as a group for a reason. “Was she reborn like us?”

Kiur didn’t know if he believed in fate. It wasn’t a tangible concept to grasp. Kiur brushed over the smooth sphere, hoping for an answer. The image remained silent. “Noah, answer me. Is she-”

“It’s nothing like that,” Noah’s voice echoed from the depths of the sea. “I have no clue what her deal is, but she’s just an extra. No one important to think about.”

“That’s a cruel thing to say,” replied Kiur bitterly. “What am I supposed to do with this knowledge? How am I supposed to face him afterwards?”

“How?” asked Noah, and the sphere lit up in a blinding light, enveloping Kiur and pulling him inside. “Why not ask him yourself?”

— ☾ —

“Tch, what an awful setting this geezer set me up with,” complained Xander, bouncing with his left foot. “The soup was poisoned after all!”

The cold winds brushed against Xander’s long hair and whirled up the sands into small ripples. He was back in the dark desert fields and was glad to have his coat to protect him from the weather.

Normally he would shrug off the chilly night, but this wasn’t a real night. Nothing in this place was, though his senses didn’t know that as they were deceived, forcing him to experience the environment.

Worse than the cold of the desert was another sensation—blazing heat.

Xander shuddered as he remembered the moment he woke up in this illusion. A sea of flames enveloped his body, starting from his chest and spreading over the rest of his body.

Xander felt like he was being burnt alive before his bones were ground between boulders. People tried to restrain him and stop him from hurting himself and others. He ran nervously on his spot; he could still feel the pain.

Something told him that those people were family and friends, but at the same time, he didn’t know them. They were like strangers who he was supposed to know but didn’t.

“Friends,” Xander grunted. He fashioned an orb of ice in his palm and willed it to roll up his arm and back down. “Pah, who needs friends, anyway?”

“You know most about it, don’t you, Alexandre?”

Levitating the orb in his hand, Xander then shot it into the desert, right into a sculpture made of ice and shattering it upon contact. “Shut up,” Xander said with an exhausted sigh before he launched the orb into another sculpture.

“All you do is ruin people.”

Shatter.

Another sculpture down.

“How many times do you need to learn this lesson?”

Shatter. Shatter. Shatter. Shatter. Shatter.

Five down.

“Better stay away from people and become a hermit.”

Shatter. Shatter. Shatter. Shatter. Shatter. Shatter. Shatter. Shatter. Shatter. Shatter.

Ten down.

“Why won’t you trust us?”

Xander stopped and glanced at the statue. This one, he couldn’t bring himself to break since it was the face of Kiur with Cylia right behind him. Their faces were forever carved in concern—or at least Kiur’s was—Cylia was more in pain of her feet but tried to hide it.

“Why won’t you trust us?” The cold and motionless statue of Kiur repeated.

“Because I don’t trust myself,” Xander explained, frustrated by the situation and himself. The orb dropped into the sand. “Because I only bring out the worst in others. I know that, but can’t do anything about it. So go away. Leave me!”

Sadly, the statue remained in place. Like a broken record, repeated the same sentence over and over again. ‘Why won’t you trust us? Why won’t you trust us? Why won’t you-’

Xander blasted the statue with his magic. Red mist sprung out of the pale blue pieces and covered his vision.

“Kiur, talk to us.”

“You can trust us.”

Two people spoke against a stone wall that blocked the entrance to a room. Xander suspected they could break it open, but didn’t. Xander couldn’t discern their shadowy form but knew they were important people, friends long gone.

One was small and had large hands, a dwarf. The second one was a tall woman with a braid hanging over her shoulder, a human.

“You better go.” Xander recognised the voice as Archil’s, Kiur’s dead older brother. “Get some rest. We will take it from here.”

Archil tried to escort the friends out. They remained for another minute or two before finally giving up. “Please, tell him we were here.”

Xander then found himself inside the sealed room. There, he found Kiur with his characteristic golden hair, bronze skin and red eyes, but something was entirely wrong. Kiur was acting strangely—as if he wasn’t himself.

“Go away, just go away,” Kiur repeatedly begged, pacing down the small room in a panicked state. His head was bandaged, and so was the left part of his chest underneath his clothes. “Go away!”

Kiur’s voice cracked. Fire sprung out of his chest, and he cried in pain when he unwillingly shattered the wall with fire and earth magic.

Recovering from this sight, Xander stared at the shadow hit by the barrage of Kiur’s magic—an indiscernible maroon shadow. Curious, Xander approached the shadow and tried to get a closer look at it.

“Don’t look at me,” the shadow’s voice echoed in Xander’s mind. It lifted a finger at Kiur. “You should look at them.”

Xander obeyed, and something clicked in his brain when he locked eyes with Kiur, but before he could figure it out, the mist settled, and he was back in the desert. Pieces of frozen sculptures littered the desert grounds. Kiur lay in the most recent pile and rubbed his back from the fall.

“That was not nice, I tell you,” complained Kiur and tried to gather himself, only to see Xander’s bewildered face.

“Y-you,” Xander uttered. The pieces clicked into place. “You were reborn, just like me, weren’t you?”