Memoirs.

My life before being transmigrated to this world and this body was as simple as throwing a rock.

There was no grand adventure, no purpose that stretched beyond the mundane. My world was made of routine—wake up, work, eat, sleep, repeat. The days blended together like ink spilled in water, bleeding into one another until time became an indistinct blur.

I lived in a small apartment. The kind where the walls were too thin, where the sound of my neighbor's TV would filter through at night, where the fluorescent light in the bathroom flickered whenever the wind rattled the windows. It was a life without magic, without mystery.

But it was mine.

I remember standing at the bus stop, hands tucked into my pockets, staring at the cracks in the pavement as I waited. I remember the feeling of my phone vibrating in my pocket—messages from people I rarely replied to, notifications from apps I never cared about. I remember taking the same route every morning, passing by the same faces, hearing the same street vendors call out their prices.

It was all so… predictable.

And yet, I never questioned it.

It was a quiet existence, an uneventful one. But there was a strange comfort in that simplicity, in knowing exactly what tomorrow would bring.

Then, one day, I woke up in a different world.

And nothing has made sense since.

---

At first, I thought it was a dream.

I had fallen asleep at my desk, maybe, or passed out after one too many drinks. Maybe I had hit my head. That was the logical explanation.

Because waking up in a world where magic existed, where I was suddenly someone else, where the weight of another name sat on my shoulders—none of that was logical.

Ezra Alden.

That was the name they called me.

The first time I heard it, it felt foreign, like a word spoken in a language I had never learned. But as the days passed, as I looked into the mirror and saw a stranger's face staring back, something unsettling happened.

The name stopped feeling foreign.

It started to feel like mine.

But how could that be?

How could I, a man who once lived on Earth, who once scrolled through meaningless social media posts and worked a job I barely cared about, suddenly become someone else?

The answer should have been simple.

I was transmigrated.

That was the word for it, right? The word used in those novels where people wake up in another world, in another body, living a life that wasn't theirs. A fantasy, a plot device.

But the problem was, I didn't feel like I had taken someone else's body.

I felt like I had returned to it.

---

The memories come in fragments.

A crowded marketplace, the scent of roasted meat and spiced wine. A library filled with books bound in leather, their pages worn and yellowed. A hand reaching out—my hand—but not mine. A voice calling my name.

Ezra.

I dream of places I have never been, of people I have never met, of emotions I should not feel.

And then, when I wake, those memories don't fade.

They linger, pressing against my thoughts like shadows stretching beneath the flickering glow of candlelight.

I don't know which memories are real anymore.

The ones from my past life—where I lived a quiet, unremarkable life on Earth?

Or the ones that whisper to me in my dreams, telling me that I have always been Ezra Alden?

And then there's him.

The one who is lost.

A voice in my head. A presence I cannot shake. A whisper that slithers through my thoughts like a serpent coiling around its prey.

"Who are you pretending to be?"

I ignore him. I pretend I don't hear the laughter that lingers at the edge of my consciousness, mocking me.

But I do hear him.

I hear him when I pour drinks, when I mix potions into cocktails, when I watch the way the liquid catches the light, reflecting something I don't understand. I hear him when the bar is empty, when the night is quiet, when my own thoughts become too loud.

He is always there.

Watching.

Waiting.

I don't know if he is a ghost, a remnant of something I lost, or something far more sinister. But I do know this—

He wants something from me.

And I don't know if I want to know what it is.

---

I pour myself a drink.

The amber liquid swirls in the glass, catching the light, distorting the reflection of my face.

Who am I?

Ezra Alden, the bartender of this quiet little establishment, mixing drinks infused with magic?

Or the nameless soul who once lived a life of monotony, who once believed the world followed simple rules?

Or am I neither?

Am I just a fool, pretending to be something I am not?

I down the drink in one gulp, letting the burn chase away the questions.

The past does not matter.

The present is all that exists.

But even as I tell myself that, even as I let the familiar comfort of alcohol settle in my veins, I can feel the truth pressing against the edges of my mind.

The past is not done with me yet.

And I am not sure I want to remember what I have forgotten.

I push away the thoughts and just reminisce myself in my simple life but full of memorable things.

I was a curious person and still this time i am still a person that is filled with curiosity, naive person, troublemaker with my freinds but still filled with joy we were punished by our parents for doing things that were wrong then the next day we promised to not do it again but there's still that freind who is an idiot that make us join well we are all idiotic persons and theres the person who i loved for decades i hope she may enjoy her life without me...

I walk downstair and to my kitchen then got a bottle of whiskey and mixed a drink i go to the window next to the door seeing children's chasing eachother while they were gonna get a beating in their ass i laugh remembering again the things myself and my freinds have done..

I drank the mix slowly and remembering to buy some warm clothes so i got my coat and got to the nearest store.

As i open the door i saw a lady with a bright smile saying "Hello what can i do for you?"

I reply back saying "Just a jacket, boots and a scarf thats all."

She guide me to show me all of the designs in the store but i just bought some simple not the most advanced one where theres magic like Temperature magic with warming..

I plan to go back my none really mine home but i didn't i go to the library then i just took some magic books and go to my none mine home to read it try it and just relax while doing magic...

It was wonderful..