"W-what the hell."

Sitting up abruptly, he realized everything felt different. His limbs were leaner, his hands smaller, and his whole body exuded an unfamiliar vitality. Panic surged through him as he touched his face, his fingers brushing against smooth, youthful skin. This wasn't possible. He was supposed to be a man in his forties, not a teenager in the prime of youth. Looking at his face in the reflection caused by the water dripping from the ceiling, Rowan became confused.

"I was just about to jump off, and I woke up he-wait, where even is here?"

After having woken up for about an hour--he couldn't really tell at this point--he began to come to terms with his situation. After all, there isn't really much he can do with where he is. After doing his special breathing technique the doctor told him would help with his depression, he started to think about what really just happened.

Used to stroking his beard, he was distraught to find out he was trapped in the body of a younger man.

Nevertheless, he was always a calm and rational person.

"Alright, so if this really isn't a dream, I somehow died and got reincarnated into the body of this poor soul." Looking down at his exterior, he immediately assessed his appearance. Light build, around 160 pounds, 5'10. From plucking one of his hairs, he could see it's a light golden brown. His face a clean-shaven, and there's not much hair on his body, except for down there. Looking at it, Rowan became satisfied. "I didn't know I was getting blessed today." Trying to lighten up his situation, Rowan started to become serious.

As he began to walk, the ground beneath his feet felt solid and yet somehow alive, as if it welcomed his presence. His mind raced with questions: Where was he? How had he ended up here? And most importantly, whose body was he inhabiting? What kind of world was this?

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When Rowan started to concentrate, he couldn't really describe it as feeling, but he could almost taste something. It was prickling along his arms, and it felt like he was wading through a light ocean air before he let go of that concentration. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. In his past life, he went through numerous obstacles which ultimately ended up in him deeming himself unworthy of existence. But if all this wasn't a dream, if this was really what was happening, then it was a gift.

A gift towards his children, towards the people he knew in the past. He couldn't let this opportunity go to waste. First, he had to get out of this hell-hole. He scanned the room, the only thing he found was the pool of blood he woke up in, the two chains which he assumed were used to hold him, and an array of what looked like paintings on the side of an otherwise blank stone cellar.

"Paintings? No, those look like runes."

Looming closer, he began to stroke his otherwise hairless chin.

"For some reason, I can tell what these are saying." There were a total of four runes, the first one was an abstract circle with a dash abruptly stopping in the middle of the circle. "That one is air." The second, even clearer. It was a triangle, with a circle surrounding it and ending off into numerous spikes. "That one is obviously a variation of earth." The third and fourth one were a bit harder to identify, but Rowan deemed it to be alluding to space and some sort of gravity element.

"A teleportation portal," he presumed.

Brushing his hand over it, he felt some sort of energy pull at his--what he just recalled--to be his mana.

"Mana? Why did that suddenly pop up?"

Holding his hand in his head, he was left with even more questions. He felt as if his memory was simply jumbled up, mixed up between two different lives.

"The names of my kids, Jordan and--wait, was it Jordan? Why can't I remember.." Feeling confused, he simply refocused himself on the task at hand. Trying not to panic, Rowan channeled what he called 'mana' into the runes, citing a reaction.

Gasping and taking a step back, he gawked at the runes suddenly transforming and sheening a white glow.

And then, he was gone.