This was an odd start to a new life. His first encounter was botched as he’d scared away a little girl who’d been tending to his grave. He decided he’d apologize the first moment he could. As he climbed out of his sarcophagus, he saw his sword, held in place by a statue in the standard knight’s salute with the sword pointing towards the sky. It was a small hope, but in touching it he’d restored the blade once again, just like in his dream! …Dream? No, no, that conversation happened. He can guarantee that. The rust fell away, and the nicks and scratches mended, revealing his partner once again. He began marching towards the sunlight, blocking the rays with his hands as his eyes adjusted.

Outside was a meadow who’s familiarity tugged at his mind. He knew that he needed to acclimate, so he brushed off the feeling for now. A new sensation began to tickle the hairs on the back of his head. Even as he scratched the back of his helmet (unhelpful), he could still feel an odd presence, prompting him to turn around.

It was the girl again, diving into the brush with a muffled “Eep!” as she tried to remain stealthy. She wasn’t very good, all things considered. As Kashan began to follow a smokestack in the distance, the girl behind him stepped on every stick, tripped over every stone, and gushed over every fawn, squirrel, and rabbit they encountered. Kashan had enough when the girl tripped for the eighth time and landed with a thud. He turned to see the little one wiping her eyes and took the opportunity to approach, spotting a trail of blood from her knee. At that moment, Kashan was struck with a memory.

This memory wasn’t one of his own, but a fragment from a mage long ago. While touring the capital of a land long forgotten, the mage spotted injured knights in a medical wing. Finding an opportunity to slip away from his bodyguards, he made himself at home casting regenerative magicks on every injured knight, then every injured soldier, then every injured servant, then every injured child. The smiles burned themselves into Kashan’s heart as he stood over the little girl and he held out his hand. An orb of water formed in his palm that began to float about the injury. The child, luckily, was sufficiently distracted from the pain, granting Kashan enough peace to focus the spellform, rapidly mending the child’s minor wound. The little girl stared in disbelief, shaking her leg to double check if it was real while Kashan continued on his way. After a good… twenty seconds, the girl fell again. Kashan was exasperated by now, and simply picked the girl up to have her sit in his arms.

“You live that way, right?” Kashan did his best to manage his emotions. It was just a kid. Now that he looked a bit closer, the shoes she was wearing were far too large for her. With that new revelation, he cooled his temper as the girl vigorously nodded and pointed toward the smokestacks. “Good. Can you tell me your name, little one?”

“Maya!” she says, rubbing her hands on her little lime tunic to clear them of dirt and grime.

Kashan smiled under his helmet, but didn't allow his tone to change. “Maya is a good name, my apologies for scaring you,” is the only thing he said as their walk continued in relative silence.

After only a few minutes of an uphill trek, Kashan could see the village the girl came from, buzzing with activity. It was on the cusp of becoming a town, with a well maintained road and proper guard posting!

“Time for you to go, little one,” Kashan said as he left the child to walk on their own. She prepared to sprint until Kashan sternly hissed “Slowly,” to make her not trip and fall for the… however many times at this point. As the two approached, Kashan noticed a stone spire that originates from the center of town. At its peak was an orb, magick in construction that hovered above a pedestal. Kashan was suddenly stopped, too occupied by the tower to notice that he’d already reached the gate of the village.

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“Hail, traveler. Your name and business, if you please,” Kashan noticed the feminine voice before he noticed her face and figure. The man behind her had a notebook in hand, ready to record his words.

“My name is Kashan Telkarov, though I’ve no documents to verify my words. I travel for honor and valor, wherever it may be found,” he says as he pounds his chest plate with a smile under his helmet.

“Is that right… I must ask you to remove your helmet.”she droned, indifferent to Kashan’s need to be chivalrous, speaking with a deadpan voice. “To know your face in case you get into trouble, what with the weapon you have in your hand.”

Kashan released the straps holding his helmet in place, quickly adding “Certainly,” as his helmet fell away. As he began to think, he realized he hadn’t seen his own face for a while. His grizzled jawline, the scars across his cheek, even the flame in his eyes. He wondered if he were able to keep those.

The female guard gasps for a moment, before continuing with “By the stars…”

Kashan panicked slightly, quickly uttering “What? Why stars? What’s wrong with the stars?” before realizing his voice is a little higher than he remembered. It was still that of a man, but not nearly as grizzled, wartorn, or breathy when he spoke low.

She froze for a few seconds before managing to stammer “I-it’s nothing sir. Please carry on,” before performing a slight bow. Her partner rolls his eyes and tears a slip of paper out of his notebook and hands it to Kashan. Upon a quick inspection, Kashan sees that it is a temporary pass that will last him seven days. With his helmet under his left arm and his sword carried by his right, he bows to the guards and leaves them to their bickering after he leaves, allowing himself to take in the sights of a village on the brink of township.

As he strolled through the village, he noticed the staring. Were it simple staring, he’d be fine with it. Being what is essentially a killer for your kingdom strikes fear, but this was different. There was anticipation and urgency. It made him nervous, the way their eyes followed him yet hid behind false pretense or lace fans. He was about to turn and leave the village until he saw a storefront displaying mirrors. He’d assumed the worst with the flittering laughter as some passed by but when he looked into the reflections, what he saw filled him with dread.

He was young again. He figured when he was brought back, he’d retain his five winter beard and sharp snow eyes. Instead, he looked as if he was on his first journey to a squire’s training regiment. He remembered the “Pretty Boy” nickname his dear companions gave him, only for it to shift to “Bloody Dog” as he proved himself. Realizing the staring never stopped, he wore his helmet again. He’d only remove it when it was absolutely necessary from here on.

“We need you to remove your helmet,” was the exact thing he was trying to avoid, but that was the last requirement in accepting bounties in the town. He’d need lodging of course, and hunting a few of the fauna would prove the most time effective way. This situation was ticking every box in the necessity checklist, even if he wasn’t very happy about it. When he removed his helmet, one of the receptionists shuttling files to and fro tripped over herself while the others glanced for a few extra seconds.

“You a noble, boy?” one of them asked, wondering how and why someone like Kashan ended up on the edge of the empire.

“No, I am of the peasantry. What gave you the impression of wealth?” whispered Kashan as he tried to lean the conversation toward a more private tone.

“Oh… Just a hunch,” he said, laughing under his breath. Welcome to Caelma, Kashan.