Rebirth in Shadows

Darkness weighed on his room like a suffocating shroud. Only the faint moonlight filtering through the window illuminated the cold stone walls. Darion lay in his bed, eyes open, unable to sleep. The feeling of failure pressed against his chest.

Every night was the same: remembering his shame, reliving every mockery, every look of contempt. But this time, something was different. A chill ran down his spine. A bad premonition clung to his chest with the force of an invisible fist.

Restless, he sat up in bed and looked around. Nothing seemed out of place. And yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

He got up, feeling the cold of the floor against his bare feet. He left his room and walked silently through the palace's dark hallways. His footsteps echoed in the vast corridor. His destination: the kitchen. A simple glass of water might calm him.

The palace slept. Only a few torches flickered on the stone walls. He reached the kitchen and poured water into a crystal cup.

The air suddenly felt heavier.

A noise behind him.

A searing pain pierced his chest. He looked down in disbelief.

A sharp blade protruded from his body. Warm blood stained his white shirt. He wanted to speak, to scream, to move, but his body did not respond. A cold whisper brushed against his ear:

"We are sorry, my prince."

His strength abandoned him, and he collapsed to the floor, feeling life slip away from him.

Silence.

A desperate gasp.

Darion opened his eyes abruptly. He sat up with a jolt, his breath ragged. His hands ran over his chest, searching for the wound. Nothing. No trace of blood.

He looked around. His room. But… something was wrong.

He stood and approached the mirror.

His reflection stared back at him.

A eighteen-year-old boy

Terror and confusion struck him with force. He staggered backward, his mind unable to process what he was seeing.

He had returned in time.

A new fate awaited him. And this time, he would not make the same mistakes.