He had awoken to a large, round, stone room. His body laid on top of a stone pedestal as he came about his senses. His lungs were stiff, each breath brought a sharp pain. Rigor mortis had already been at work. From what he can tell he was physically unharmed. Instead, was an abnormal sense of exhaustion, unknown to him even after hours of tiring physical exertion.

“If you can’t move don’t be alarmed. It usually takes a while for his mana to replenish.”

The voice came from behind him. He settled on watching a shadow on the floor. From what he can tell the voice came from a young woman. While she had attempted to sound soothing and reassuring, he was certain she was on the verge of tears.

“Are you the one who summoned me? If I could I’d be crossing my fingers”

He had tried lightening the mood. Rather, the voice got more melancholic. “No. That would be my betrothed.”

“Is he still here at the temple?”

“Not anymore, not in spirit at least. His body is still on that pedestal, however.” The shadow had vanished, and the sound of her footsteps faded away. He had surely failed in making a good impression.

Time passed as he wondered if she’d return. It became clear that the only thing to do was to rest and regain his strength. The dusty stone pedestal would normally be deemed too uncomfortable, and his mind too busy, but his body had already made exceptions.

A couple of hours of rest allowed him to explore his new body. Just as expected it was unfamiliar. Nearby objects were no longer grew blurry, and his ankle, which had been in pain all week, danced without issue. His teeth aligned perfectly, at least compared to the mistreated set of his youth. Relieved, he prayed his biology would plague him no more. Dusting himself off, he set out to find the troubled young woman.

Outside the door were the steps leading into the temple. The temple itself was smaller than expected. Built into the side of a mountain, it comprised of a single set of stairs leading into the pedestal room of his re-birth. On the steps was a fragile young woman with raven black hair. Her hair, braided into a ponytail that extended well beyond her shoulders, covered a complicated expression.

Stolen story; please report.

He sat beside her silently in hopes to gauge her mood before ruining it further.

 At first, her head tilted away towards the horizon, but with a deep breath she got up and turned around revealing a freckled face and fragile figure. “My name is Sithri Vidua, betrothed to you, Finac Minare. Our journey is long, and the days gets shorter, so we must get to the nearest town” With a forced smile she motioned him to follow her down the steps. They walked in silence as the man gathered his thoughts.

He couldn’t help but feel that this woman’s life was exhaustingly tragic. Many of the details still eluded him, but from what he figured Sithri and Finac, betrothed, had traveled to this temple to summon him. From her introduction, and current emotion crisis, it seems that she had known about the details of the ritual. Furthermore, Sithri was taking it upon herself to guide him through effectively replacing her dearly departed.

The ritual itself seemed almost illogical. A soul was summoned from the afterlife. Instead of being summoned as a ghost, he now resided in Finac's body. He assumed their journey had a goal, meaning the ritual would help attain that goal. What gain is there in replacing your soul with a stranger? All of it appeared unnecessarily tragic.

“You don’t have to call me Finac” The man said. “Calling me by the name of your dead partner is a bit too sad” He was rather unattached to the name of his previous life, and he felt that bringing it along would hamper his ability to immerse himself in this new world. “You can call me Finn”

“... I know you mean well, Finn, but I should let you know that was a common nickname for Finac”

With a well-timed stumble, Sithri let out a soft laugh. The man knew not the subtleties of comedy, but he knew how to play the fool. “That just means I need some titles, right? Like Finn, Slayer of Goblins, or Finn, Chaser of Chickens.”

“No. I think Finn will suffice.”