02 New Beginning

As Zoran gained consciousness, he instinctively grabbed for his wheelchair, but what came into hand was a foreign sensation. The first thing he registered was the overwhelming scent of earth and fresh grass. He opened his eye and took in his surroundings. He was no longer in the confines of his cold, sterile old apartment. Instead, he was bathed in the warmth of the sun, the sounds of birds chirping and leaves rustling in the breeze. A peaceful countryside stretched out before him - rolling hills, a forest line in the distance, and a small village visible not so far away. It was so quiet, so calm. It was something he had never experienced.

However, despite the serenity, something felt wrong... very wrong.

Zoran stared at the scenery in a daze, trying to clear the fog that clouded his mind. He raised his hand to his face, only to be met with the shocking sensation of soft, smooth skin-skin that didn't match the rough, scarred hands that he was familiar with. His breath stopped as he realized the pain that was supposed to be agonizing him for day and night had disappeared. Hidden wounds from the war, internal damages from bullet wounds, and most importantly, the pain from his broken legs were all gone.

He tried to move his legs, to push himself up, but-nothing.

He stared down at the unfamiliar limbs. His legs were still there, in perfect shape, unlike his old, battered legs. But they didn't feel like his. The same useless appendages from his past life, as if he had never left his wheelchair. His heart raced in his chest, the confusion and frustration mixing with a sense of helplessness that was all too familiar.

Was this some kind of cruel trick? He thought.

A rustle behind him made Zoran turn his head. A group of villagers appeared in his sight, their eyes wide with curiosity and respect. They were dressed in simple, rustic clothing, though there was an air of warmth around them. It was as if they have been waiting for him. He noticed their eyes were bright, all of them wearing the same happy expression as they approached him.

"Lord Zoran, you've finally awoken!" one of them said in a voice full of respect.

Zoran's mind whirled. Lord Zoran?

His eyes widened as the villagers continued to approach, their smiles warm, their gestures polite but eager. They were treating him like someone important, but he has no recollection of anything—no reason for them to call him "Lord."

One of the villagers, an older woman, kneeled beside him. "You've come into your inheritance, young lord. Your late relative's estate is now in your hands."

Zoran blinked, still struggling to process what was happening. His brain buzzed with questions, but he had no answers. He wasn't some noble; he wasn't even part of this world—at least not until moments ago. He had been a discarded soldier, a crippled man with no hope, and now... now he was Lord Zoran. It felt absurd, like some dream too good to be true.

"Your late relative, Lord Camie, was well-regarded in the village," the woman continued, "she was a fine lady and a kind Lord, always helping out those in need despite of her noble status. Unfortunately, she passed away a few years ago, and her legacy was neglected in the latter years. She has specifically stated in her letter that she wants you to inherit her legacy before her passing. Now that you are here, the land is yours to restore, young master."

Lord Camie? Legacy? This isn't real, Zoran thought, feeling like a stranger in his own body. This isn't me. I don't belong here. But... I'm supposed to be here?

Before he could voice his confusion, the villagers quickly helped him into a small cart, insisting that they would take him to the estate that had once belonged to his "late relative." It was a house on the outskirts of the village, a large, worn-down structure that seemed to have been neglected for years.

The estate was a sad sight—cracked windows, overgrown vines, and a collapsing roof. Yet, despite its state of disrepair, Zoran was drawn to it by some odd reason. He could almost feel the weight of something that needed to be done—something that called to him, as if his presence here was meant to fulfill some purpose.

The villagers spoke of his inheritance, mentioning a minor noble title that was left to him by a distant relative he had never met. They called him "Lord Zoran," though the title felt so foreign to him. But as they carried him to the estate, Zoran couldn't shake the nagging thought in his mind that he had been brought here for a reason—though he wasn't sure what that reason was.

---

Later that day, Zoran was settled in a small room within the large, dusty estate. He looked out the window, the view of the village and the rolling hills stretching out before him. He could see the villagers working together, fixing up the land around the house.

The people had started to treat him like the noble he was supposed to be, offering their assistance in any way they could. He couldn't refuse their kindness, despite how uncomfortable it made him.

Zoran glanced over the room, taking in his surroundings. On a small table by the bed, there were a few items left by his supposed relative: a few pouches of coins, some tools, and—most notably—an old, worn chest. Inside, he found an assortment of things—magical artifacts, including a small crystal that pulsed faintly with energy, some weapons, and some minor enchanted tools. They were relics of a bygone era, left for him to use. The thought that these items had once belonged to someone else, that these items were left for him, made him feel even more out of place.

He didn't know where to begin. His body still felt broken, and though the world around him was beautiful, it seemed too unfamiliar. It was as though he had been suddenly thrust into a role he hadn't asked for. 

But if I am here, he thought, then surely there is a reason, a purpose, for me being here.

Zoran's gaze settled on the tools and the land outside, and he made a decision. He would rebuild the estate and the fix the land. There must be something important here for him to inherit this piece of land. whoever or whatever power had thrown him into this peaceful place, perhaps god, perhaps some other all-powerful being. Whatever intentions they had for him, he doesn't intend on throwing it away now that he can finally have some time for peace.

With the help of the villagers and the tools left for him, Zoran began the arduous task of renovating the old estate. Day by day, the once-forgotten land slowly began to take shape. Timber and stone from the surrounding forest were brought in, and with a little magic from the relics his relative had left behind, the work became slightly easier. The estate that had once been a symbol of neglect began to take on a new refreshing look, as if waiting for a new purpose.

---

As the days passed, Zoran found himself accepting his new role, slowly starting to feel like he belonged here. But deep within him, the memories of his past life—of the war, the betrayal, and the heartbreak—remained. He was far from healed, far from the man he had been, but in this quiet corner of the world, he was given a chance. A chance to try again, to make something better out of the ashes of his past.

And perhaps, in doing so, he might find a new purpose.