The Awakening

The impact of death was... underwhelming for lack of a better word.

The last thing I remember was me driving and failing to bring my car under control on the highway after been repeatedly shot at by god knows who. Then boom!

The next moment, I find myself gasping for air, my lungs burning, and peering up at a sky the colour of bruised plums.

What a minute. What's wrong with the sky? And why am I here? Where are those hired thugs?

My name is Adrian Blackwood, but in the world I left behind, they referred to me as Ash, the fiery, demanding CEO of Blackwood Games who was known for pushing boundaries and pissing off shareholders. Now I was resting on damp ground, with the stink of blood and rot in the air. Fortunately, it wasn't my blood. But someone else's, judging from the mangled corpse a few feet away.

"Welcome to… Kaeloria, motherfucker," I mumbled, sitting up and taking in my surroundings.

Kaeloria. Strange that the name feels right. What is that supposed to be though? Some secret club? Somehow, I knew I was in a place called by that name.

What was that name supposed to represent though? Was it the name of a city, a planet, a continent or something else? So many questions and no one to answer then. At the moment, I honestly didn't know the answers.

It was a scene straight out of one of my dark fantasy games: a devastated battlefield littered with broken weapons, burnt armour, and fighters' immobile remains. There was only one difference: this was not a game. This was real. Painfully and brutally real. At least it felt damn real to me. Pain doesn't tend to be felt in mere dreams.

I stumbled to my feet, my head pounding like a bass drum. My clothes were shredded rags, and my body hurt like I had been trampled by a horde of ferocious boars. But as I gazed down at my hands, a peculiar emotion came over me. They were calloused, scarred, and soiled with something deeper than dirt. Blood.

Urg, disgusting!

I instinctively reached for my phone, hoping to look up "transported to mediaeval hellscape," but my pocket was empty. Instead, my fingers brushed against a cold, metallic object—a knife with a crimson blade.

As I held the dagger, I felt a wave of strength rush through me, a raw, primitive force seemed to emanate from it. Memories of rushed before my eyes: weird rituals, whispered incantations and... blood?

This was all very interesting. I was like "wow". I was overwhelmed with memories that were definitely not mine.

Suddenly, I understood. I was not only transported to another place; I was reborn. Reincarnated into a blood mage, a practitioner of forbidden magic powered by life essence. And judging by the devastation around me, I wasn't a beginner. And the strangest thing was that even in this world I went by the name I was known by on earth: Adrian Blackwood. Coincidence? Probably. That wasn't my immediate concern though.

With a nasty smirk, I tested my newfound talents by carving a sigil in the air with my knife. The blood on the dagger ignited, glistening like a scarlet thread before firing towards a nearby corpse. The motionless body trembled before jerking upright, its eyes shining with an odd brightness.

"Rise, my puppet," I said, and the corpse-turned-thrall complied, its movements awkward and unnatural.

This was my first taste of authority in Kaeloria, and it was enticing. I felt a rush of exhilaration that surpassed any virtual success I'd ever experienced. This was the final game, and I wanted to win.

I had no idea how I had ended up here or why. Perhaps it was a fault in the Matrix, a cosmic joke, or simply the universe's way of giving me a new beginning. But, whatever the reason, I was not going to pass up this opportunity. Should I be more freaked out? Absolutely. But nay, I deserve a break.

I mean it's not everyday that some fellas try to gun you down.

I spent the days that followed wandering the battlefield, searching for supplies and having a feel for the magic I seemed to have . The language barrier was remarkably low, as if I was born knowing Kaelorian. A convenient benefit of reincarnation, I suppose.

I vaguely remembered that the war was between two different factions fighting for control of the territory. The winner, a vicious warlord named Kael Emberheart, was cementing his power, while the defeated army was dispersed and demoralised.

It was a typical power vacuum, ready for exploitation by one such me . And I, Adrian "Ash" Blackwood, the freshly minted blood mage, was the perfect candidate to fill it.

With my zombie thrall as a protector, I set out towards the nearest settlement, a walled town lying in the shadow of a towering mountain range. Along the journey, I met other survivors, including refugees, deserters, and opportunistic scavengers.

I thought briefly of utilising my charisma and strategic thinking to influence them, gathering information, forming alliances, and causing strife among for the fun of it. I decided to shelf that thought for the moment. Based on the somewhat fuzzy memories I had, it seems that blood mages were both feared and adored in Kaeloria, with their power capable of both destruction and salvation depending on whom you ask.

I also realised that I was far from the most powerful blood wizard in the kingdom. Others, older and more experienced, utilised their power with deadly precision. But I was not afraid. I was a gamer at heart, a strategist who enjoyed challenges and taking calculated risks. And no, being a gamer and being the CEO of your own game company are not mutually exclusive. Trust me, I am a living example.

Fear had no hold on me deep inside. From a young age, I had an unrelenting passion for gaming, where I excelled in the face of obstacles and calculated risks. In the virtual worlds, I sharpened my strategic skills, formulating complicated plans and carrying them out with unshakable accuracy. The attraction of conquering difficulties and negotiating complex settings fueled a fire within me, propelling me onward with unwavering drive. With each level completed and every boss killed, my confidence grew, fuelling an insatiable drive to solve the secrets that lay ahead. I liked the opportunity to pit my wits against powerful opponents, looking for encounters that would stretch my abilities to the maximum. For in gaming, I found peace and a sense of success that extended beyond the confines of the actual world. It was there that I realised the actual nature of courage: fear is an illusion that can be dispelled with perseverance and a firm trust in one's skills.

As I approached the town gates, I could feel the guards' distrust towards me. They didn't dare to deny admittance to a blood mage, especially one accompanied by an undead servant though.

"So the undead are not uncommon then, that's good to know." I thought to myself.

I was about to go on my way, ready to play the biggest game of my life. Keep faking until you make it they say.

"Hold it right there!" someone called out.