Nobody knows for certain what’ll happen with us after we die.

Some believe that, if we were religious, that we’d be get back to the Kingdom of God, or that we’d suffer in God’s purgatory if we were irredeemable.

Other’s claim that the spirit inhibiting the human body would be free to roam the universe.

Yet some don’t think anything will happen. That, once we die, the lights go out, and that’s it.

These abstract theories suddenly seemed more real as I layed in a pool of my own blood, created from a single shot to my heart.

An afterlife always sounded preposterous to seriously believe in. At least, that’s what I thought. And yet as I lay here knowing death to be imminent, I can’t help but think to myself... That’s it? Is this how I’ll die...?

I remembered the events that led to my current state. The robbery, the fear in the woman's eyes as the robber pointed a gun at her and her baby, the split-second decision to act. I couldn't believe this was how it would all end.

He probably wouldn’t have even killed her... I thought.

I sighed.

What’s done is done. Can’t turn time back now.

I tried doing that already in the past...

“Mister, are you okay?!” A woman yelled.

I turned towards the voice with a grunt. It was the same person that I’d saved.

“Huh...?” I uttered.

Time slowed down, and her face started to look blurry, but the pictures that blitzed through my mind were as clear as the Hanging Lake in Colorado.

One such was about my brother and me enjoying ourselves in the summer amusement park, where I nearly pissed myself as we went on the Alton Towers, the most popular rollercoaster there.

Is this what people mean when their life flashes before their eyes?

And then I watched further as the event that arguably changed my life was being shown to be with excrutiating detail.

My parents and my brother had packed their bags, wearing clothes fit for summer.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” My mother had asked one last time she closed her coffer up.

“Yeah.” I replied. “They gave me a chance to do a re-exam in spite of everything, so I have to crush it.”

My brother chuckled upon hearing that.

“Just be sure you’ll actually be studying.”

“Yeah, yeah, booger off already.”

No, stop them! I yelled to my past self as a tear escaped my eye socket.

There is no moment I remembered as vividly as seeing the telivision flicker with the footage of what was supposed to be the plane going to the island of Okinawa. The same plane my family were supposed to be on.

M-maybe they went with a different plane? I thought.

Bzzz bzzzz

My hand shook as I reached for the phone, with an unknown number blaring on the screen.

“Hello?” I asnwered, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Is this Noa?” The voice on the other end asked.

The world seemed to spin as I listened to the words that would change my life forever. "We called to inform you about the death of your family."

That sentence changed my life.

Grief consumed me and for the next two years, I retreated into my own world. The once curious and motivated student was now reduced to spending hours in a cramped room, tears streaming down my face as I numbly played video games. The ticking clock served as a reminder of the time I had wasted.

It was only one month ago that I decided to get it all back together, with educating myself as the first priority.

Today was my first trip to the university and I get shot instead.

I smiled bitterly as the ironies built up.

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I could no longer hear the woman’s voice, and an annoying sound akin to a school bell had replaced it instead.

I closed my eyes, and surrendered myself to the darkness around me.

Whatever happens, happens.

Huh...? I thought as I peeled my heavy eyelids open.

The next few moments could be compared to an especially strong acid trip. The first thing I saw was a dazzling light and a crowd of people surrounding me. The first thing I heard was an annoying, crying infant.

Some smiling, some crying, and some yelling something in a language I couldn’t comprehend.

Looking at my surroundings, I very quickly noticed that I wasn’t at a hospital. Everything looked so... olden. The walls weren’t created with concrete, but with wood and stones, with a portrait of some lady with hair longer than Rapunzel’s hanging right in front of me. And then I noticed a rather peculiar... thing in the hands of a red-robed old man.

Despite the dream-like quality of my surroundings, I was more confused by the fact that I was being held by a young man with a beard who was speaking in a tone of love and rubbing his beard on my face.

As I looked in the mirror behind the man, I realized with shock that the crying infant I had heard was me. This was a new and bewildering experience.

Well, this is new..

I lay there, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling above me, as the reality of my situation settled in. Hours had passed since I was first reborn in this world of fantasy and magic, but the shock of it all still lingered.

My memories from my past life were still with me, a mix of pain and sadness, but also hope for a better future.

Looks like the hinduists were mostly correct on this.

I couldn't help but feel like I was living a cliché, a second chance at life in a fantastical world. And yet, despite my optimism, I couldn't shake the feeling that my nature, my very essence, was unchanged. As the exhaustion of everything that had happened washed over me,

I closed my eyes and let myself succumb to the oblivion of sleep. But even as I drifted off, I couldn't help but wonder what challenges and adventures awaited me in this new world.

It’s been a month since I’d been... reincarnated.

Early on, I’d already acquired a rough grasp of the language in this world, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised considering an infant’s brain is like a sponge, sucking up every bit of knowledge there is.

As for my supposed parents... I had no parents.

They’d dropped their kid off here, a place that can be more accurately described as a seminary, so they could go off on their adventures without a second thought.

Two weeks had passed since I opened my eyes for the first time, but I could finally move my body, even if it was limited.

Suddenly I heard a creeky noise coming from the right.

The door gradually opened, revealing a man. His knees sank so that he could go through the doorway, and he slowly trodded over to me. The man’s tall stature and wide shoulders cast a shadow over me, and his menacing expression made me gulp. My body started crying involuntarily, and I felt embarrassed by its lack of control.

“H-huh...?!” The man blurted.

He suddenly shot up in a panic, looking at the door and back to me as he contemplated what to do.

“Uhm, here...!” His rough fingers rubbed my cheeks.

Although that was supposed to comfort me, I just cried even harder.

“Raphael!” A female voice yelled.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” She marched over to the crime scene and picked me up.

“I-I just checked up on him, to see if he was doing fine, I swear!”

The woman holding me in her arms sighed and glared at him.

“You have a scary face, you know that? It’s because of what you did for the royal family.” She explained.

My cries slowly subdued as she soothed me.

Raphael’s expression turned into one of sadness, and he nodded.

“I’m sorry, Sophia...” he muttered.

She shook her head.

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing for.” She stated, pointing towards me.

“Sorry, Finian.”

For some reason, all fear I had for this behemoth melted away as he apologized to me.

Raphael looks scary, but those eyes unmasked the kindness inside him.

Sudden drowsiness overwhelmed me as I smiled at him.

I never knew when or why it started, but every night before bedtime, about a year after I arrived, one of the caretakers would come into my room to read me a story. Raphael was the usual storyteller, but sometimes Arinia, an older woman, would take over. I had trouble distinguishing between fact and fiction, as I had only seen magic used once. But Raphael's stories felt so real.

He spoke with pride about his adventures, like the time he barely escaped an impossible situation, or the powerful beasts he had defeated with his exceptional swordsmanship.

Arinia was also an adventurer, a witch to be exact.

One of my favorite stories was when she and Raphael teamed up to conquer a Greater Labyrinth on the western outskirts of the continent.

Arinia was on a mission to find the fabled Staff of Goodsky, a powerful artifact said to grant an archaic form of magic to whoever possesses it. She traveled to the scorching deserts of the western continent, where rumors had it that the heart was located. It was about the same time that Raphael and Arinia first met eachother.

Arinia spoke so nostalgically about those memories that I couldn’t help but think that they might have been romantic partners as well.

Raphael joined Arinia shortly after they first met, and they dived through countless dungeons together.

Arinia’s search for the Staff of Goodsky ended after Raphael and her conquered the greater labyrinth, only to find that the artifact had truly been a fable all along.

But despite their thrilling tales, I couldn't help but wonder what they were doing in this seminary?

“Alright, open your mouth,” my caretaker commanded as he held a teaspoon in his hand. It was hard to believe two years and a half had flown by just like that.

My memories of my past life, and even my recent reincarnation, were starting to get blurrier by the week, but that didn't mean I had forgotten them. I never would.

Three knocks were heard a few seconds after he put chickpeas in my mouth. “Come in,” he said.

“Pardon my intrusion,” a younger gentleman in iron plate armor commented as he entered the room. “Sir Raphael,” he put a hand on the hilt of his sword, “training is in fifteen minutes.” Raphael silently nodded.

“Will you be coming?” the young boy asked uncertainly. “Of course, after I finish taking care of Finian.” Raphael replied. The corners of the intruder's mouth raised slightly at the response. “Thank you, sir,” he said and closed the door, disappearing. I wondered to myself why the young boy thought Raphael wouldn't continue teaching them. ...Now that I thought about it, I barely knew anything about Raphael.

He would occasionally tell stories about his adventures, but they were mostly surface-level. The stories helped me understand the world I found myself in, but they didn't make me understand Raphael more.

I looked at his left arm.

“Raphy,” I blurted.

“Hmm?” he hummed absentmindedly.

“What happened to your hand?” I asked, pointing at the stump.

His eyes shot up to me and he looked at me with an expression that seemed to ask, “Do you really want to know?” I stared back at him and nodded. He sighed. “Alright, I’ll tell you,” Raphael reluctantly agreed.