Rise of Dark Heir

The First Breath

The silence was absolute. Then a dull pain seized him, as if an invisible vice was crushing him. Gabriel blinked, or at least tried to. Something was wrong. His body, so familiar just a moment ago, no longer responded in the same way.

Where am I? he thought, as distant, indistinct sounds echoed around him.

He tried to speak, but his mouth produced only a weak, shrill cry. He didn't understand. His mind struggled, searching for an explanation. Then he remembered: death. Yes, he had been hit by that car, the cold asphalt under his body, and then, nothingness.

I'm dead. So why... why am I here?

His thoughts were clear, but his body was no longer his. Another truth imposed itself upon him: he was trapped in the body of a newborn. His lungs suddenly filled with air for the first time, and an involuntary cry pierced the air.

"He's born! The boy is born!" exclaimed a woman's voice, strong but distant.

Through the tears clouding his tiny eyes, Gabriel glimpsed silhouettes. A woman in a dark dress approached him, her gaze hard and impassive. She didn't seem pleased with his arrival into the world, and this troubled him deeply.

"Take him far from here. The cursed child must not remain near the court."

Cursed child? he thought, as he felt large hands grasp him and carry him away. What the hell is going on?

He had little time to understand more before his eyes closed from exhaustion, and the darkness consumed him once again.

A few years later…

Little Valerian, who was none other than Gabriel trapped in this child's body, stared at his reflection in the water of a basin. This face, so young, so innocent, didn't match the man he once was. Each day, the memories of his past life blended with his new reality, creating a strange confusion. How had a simple employee from the modern world, killed in a trivial accident, been reincarnated into a universe so distant from his own?

He knew, however, that he wasn't crazy. His memory of being Gabriel was intact. Everything, from his dull job, to his regrets, and the loneliness that had engulfed him in his first life.

"Who am I really now?" he murmured, his childish voice clashing with the weight of his thoughts.

In this world, he was Valerian, son of the fallen witch Elena, a woman feared for her powers. But he had never met his mother. She had died before he could even understand what she represented. He, Valerian, lived in isolation, rejected by his own people as a cursed being, without knowing why.

A cruel world... like the other one, he thought, clenching his fists. But here, I won't be a spectator. I refuse to be insignificant once again.

"Valerian, come here!" The steward's voice echoed behind him.

He turned his head and saw the massive man who oversaw him daily. A guard with a stern face, dressed in dull armor, who never spoke to him more than necessary.

"It's time for your training."

Valerian, despite his childish body, followed him without a word. As he grew, he had grown accustomed to his new reality. He had learned to feign ignorance, to pretend to be what they expected him to be: a fragile and frightened boy. But beneath the surface, his mind simmered with rage and ambition. He wanted to understand this world, its rules, and above all, how he could take control of it.

I won't repeat the mistakes of my first life. I won't be crushed by this system, he thought silently.

The steward led him into a large stone hall, where the emblems of an ancient lineage adorned the walls. Valerian had never known luxury, but he knew that this place wasn't for the weak. It was a training hall for warriors, magicians, and other powerful figures. Today, it was his turn.

"You'll have to fight, Valerian," the steward said, his eyes hard. "Show me what you've got."

A young boy, older than him by a few years, stepped forward, a wooden sword in hand. Valerian frowned. A test? A spectacle? Fine...

The boy charged at him without hesitation. Valerian dodged awkwardly, his small body still uncoordinated, but he wasn't without resources. He remembered the basic moves he had learned in a few self-defense classes in his previous life.

A weak body... but a strong mind, he thought.

The boy attacked again, and this time, Valerian seized the opportunity. He rolled on the ground and grabbed a stone. Then, in a quick motion, he threw it at his opponent.

"Hah!"

The impact surprised the other boy, who collapsed to the ground, groaning, while Valerian stood up, breathless. The steward watched the scene in silence before smiling slightly.

"You've got instincts, but it's not enough. You'll have to be craftier, stronger, if you want to survive here."

Valerian crossed his arms and simply nodded, though inside, he boiled with impatience. Stronger? I'll become much more than that. This world will see true power. And this is only the beginning.

The twilight bathed the fortress in hues of gold and purple. Valerian watched the sky from a stone window, his thoughts troubled. It had now been five years since he had awakened in this world, and each day, his patience wore thinner.

In his previous life, Gabriel had always been carried along by events, but here, as Valerian, he refused to play that passive role. Yet he remained trapped in his child's body, limited by the weakness of his physical form.

"Damn this body!" he murmured, clenching his fists.

Then, another thought crossed his mind. Not yet. But soon, this body will bend to my will.

His modern memories allowed him to see this world with a unique perspective, but he knew he couldn't rely solely on that. He needed brute strength, a power that would allow him to dominate. Magic. He had heard stories, seen fragments of demonstrations, but hadn't yet touched it himself.

That's when the door to his small room suddenly opened. A hooded figure entered the room with quiet steps.

"Who are you?" Valerian asked, fixing the intruder with an outward calm.

The figure, a woman, slowly lowered her hood, revealing a face of stern beauty, marked by years of battles and pain. Her jet-black hair fell in waves, and her eyes were as dark as the abyss.

"I am Azera, servant of your mother, Elena," she said in a hoarse, almost broken voice. "She entrusted me with a mission before her death. I must teach you to master your inheritance."

Inheritance. Valerian felt a shiver run down his spine. Elena. The fallen witch, his link to this world. But also the one who had drawn the curse upon him before his birth. He had heard of her in whispers and nightmares.

"My inheritance?" Valerian repeated. "Speak clearly. I am no longer a child."

Azera looked at him, a spark of admiration in her eyes.

"Indeed. You are more than they think. Magic flows through your veins, Valerian. An ancient power, older than the Empire itself. But you haven't yet learned how to summon it. That's why I'm here."

Valerian remained silent for a moment, but his thoughts raced. Magic... This could change everything. It was no longer about merely surviving. With magic, he could impose his will, change the destiny of this world.

"Very well. Show me," he said, his voice steady but as sharp as a blade.

Azera raised a thin hand, and a slight current of air began to vibrate around her. The light in the room seemed to twist as she chanted an incantation in an ancient language. Valerian felt an invisible weight press on his chest, as if the air around him was tightening.

"Feel this energy, Valerian," she whispered. "It's there, just beneath the surface. Focus. Call on it."

Valerian closed his eyes, breathing deeply. At first, all he perceived was the silence of the night and the faint murmur of magic around him. But gradually, he felt something. A tremor. A warmth in his blood. It was subtle, but it was there.

So this is it? he thought. This is the power that lies dormant within me.

"Stronger," Azera commanded. "Push this energy out of you. Don't let it suffocate you, use it."

Valerian gritted his teeth, focusing all his will on this inner warmth. An intense flow rushed through his veins, like a river in flood. Then, suddenly, he felt it: an explosion of power. A violent wind swept through the room, sending objects flying around him.

"Ahhh!" Azera cried out, surprised by the intensity of Valerian's power.

He opened his eyes and saw a faint glow around his hands. The energy pulsed, raw and uncontrollable. For the first time, he truly felt the magic. Not as an abstract idea, but as a tangible force, within his reach.

"This... this is incredible," he murmured, amazed by the new sensation.

Azera, recovering from the shock, slowly stood up, a satisfied smile on her lips.

"You have immense potential. Even greater than your mother's. But it can also devour you. If you don't learn to control it, this power will consume you."

Valerian closed his hands, dispelling the light.

"I have no intention of letting it consume me. I control my destiny now."

Azera nodded.

"Very well. I will guide you, but the road will be long and fraught with obstacles."

Valerian looked at her for a moment. He knew that this power was only the first step. If he wanted to dominate this world, he would need much more. But he had crossed a threshold that night. And behind that door lay the future he intended to conquer.

The next day…

Valerian walked through the castle corridors, the events of the previous night still fresh in his mind. He had barely slept, his body still buzzing from the residual magic he had summoned. For the first time since his rebirth, he felt... powerful. And this was only the beginning.

But he wasn't ready yet to reveal to the world what he was becoming. Not yet, he thought. I must remain in the shadows, learn, grow in strength before I strike.

As he crossed the courtyard, a group of young nobles mocked him in hushed voices. Son of the witch, cursed child, they considered him weak, a shadow without value. It made him smile inwardly.

"Hey, Valerian!" one of them called out, a boy with an arrogant face. "What are you doing here, skulking like a beggar? Shouldn't you be hiding somewhere, far from us?"

Valerian stopped, turning slowly toward the boy. His gaze was calm, but a threatening glimmer danced in his eyes. If only you knew, he thought. If only you knew what I truly am.

But he said nothing. He passed by them without responding, without even giving them a second glance. He knew it wasn't yet time to reveal his true strength. But one day would come. And on that day, they would remember who he was.