Chapter 1: The Heirloom’s Awakening

Leon Graves was merely an ordinary child, dwelling in a regular home with a regular family. He had a regular life, nothing out of the ordinary and monotonous.

His Father, an "Inheritance baby," had come into a fortune when his father passed away at 25 years old. Despite the figure being astronomical, he never revealed its true value to even his own family members. Despite his wealth, he enjoyed residing in a humble condominium within the city. He would often claim that this money had been passed down generations and that Leon would inherit it one day as well.

His mother was a simple woman. She and his father had grown up in the same small town, and by the time they turned 18, they were married. Leon had two older brothers—one of whom he never met, as he went missing before Leon was born. He also had two older sisters, making him the youngest at 16.

When Leon was eight, his dad gave him an old family relic: a tiny, plain purple flower in an obsidian-like locket. He always scoffed at it, labeling it a useless trinket. Yet for some reason he couldn't explain, he never took it off. To him, it was just another piece of family history—he never imagined it would cost him everything.

One day, Leon's life took a sharp turn. It began like any other—walking to school, meeting friends along the way, and attending another ordinary day of classes. But when school ended, and Leon was walking home, something felt off. A strange feeling tugged at his gut. He shook it off at first, but as he walked, the feeling grew stronger. Then, as if whispered from the shadows, a voice warned him, Don't go home.

His head turned to the side in a flash to see who it was, but no one was there. 

He spun around, but no one was there. Am I losing my mind? he muttered to himself. Maybe it was early-onset schizophrenia—he had heard his mother mention it before, regarding his uncle. Pfft, as if, he thought, trying to brush it off.

But when he saw his house up ahead, the feeling surged again, this time intense and suffocating. Something in his gut screamed for him not to go there. He ignored the pull of his family's anger for being late and decided to go elsewhere, maybe get something to eat. Could it just be hunger messing with his head?

While walking through the city, Leon felt something peculiar: black-suit-clad men and women. Did anyone die? he thought to himself. But then it started—Leon began seeing the men in black suits tailing him. First, at the corner of a restaurant window, then at the mirror of a shop, and even in his favorite burger restaurant. They had their eyes on him, his heart pounding. He panicked and felt his adrenaline kick and his instinct telling him to get out.

Leon turned on his heels and sprinted. The moment he did, the men followed. Bursting outside of the shops and giving chase. Their footsteps echoed behind him, a relentless rhythm that fueled his panic. He vaulted over barricades, weaved through crowded streets, and pushed his legs to the limit. No matter how fast he ran, they were faster.

Desperation drove him into the sewers. The stench was overwhelming, but survival overruled his senses. He stumbled through the dark tunnels, wading through filth, his breath ragged. He found a pipe just big enough to crawl into and pressed himself against its cold, damp walls, willing himself to be invisible.

Silence.

Then, footsteps. Slow. Deliberate. Right outside his hiding place.

He prayed they would walk by. His hands trembled, clenched into fists.

The footsteps went quiet.

A hand shot into the pipe and yanked him out.

Leon screamed, struggled, screaming out in desperation, but he was no match for the man in the black suit. A punch to the stomach stole his breath, and another sent him sprawling onto the grimy floor. Blood filled his mouth. The man loomed over him, expression unreadable.

"Where is the stone?" the man asked coldly.

Leon's mind reeled. What stone?

More blows followed. Agony burned through his ribs. "Where is it?" the man repeated.

Then it hit him. The necklace.

Tears blurred his vision. "Where's my family?" he choked out.

The man grinned and touched one finger to Leon's brow. He didn't know how but all of a sudden, Leon saw everything—the image burned into his brain. His house, ravaged. His parents and siblings, killed. Blood. There was so much blood.

Leon cried out, his voice hoarse with grief. But his screams cut off suddenly at another strike. He lay there, semiconscious, burdened with pain and despair. The man reached for his necklace concealed inside his shirt as he had all these years.

A spark of defiance burned inside Leon.

"If you want it, then get it" He spat out.

He grabbed the chain, tore it off, and with what strength remained in his body, hurled it into the foaming sewage water.

The serenity of the man shattered.

"GET IT!" he bellowed to his subordinates.

Leon didn't get to see their reaction.

"YOU DARE!" The next blow shattered his world, and his limp body was tossed into the filthy current.

Darkness swallowed him.

When he woke, he was lying in a pile of sewage, bitterly cursing the world—the world that took his family from him over a worthless heirloom. His vision blurred, and exhaustion overtook him. Why? he thought. Why over something so meaningless?

His breathing slowed. His body was failing. Is this how I die?

Then, a faint purple light caught his fading vision—the necklace.

It floated toward him, drifting above the murky water. He reached out, and as it brushed against his fingers, a pulse of energy surged through him. His body disintegrated, dissolving into nothingness, leaving only a ripple in the sewage.

...

...

...

He floated, weightless in an endless space. Time did not exist. All he could do was despise the world that had sentenced him to this harsh life. His existence, dreary until the end, was meaningless—except for the death that had come so unexpectedly and violently.

Am I dead?

And then, after what seemed an eternity, a faint purple glow in the distance. Slowly, it grew brighter, moving closer. His fingers reached out to it, but the moment he touched—

Darkness again.

Leon awoke to warmth. The scent of wood and parchment filled his senses. His heart raced as he looked around—he was small. His hands, soft and tiny, held wooden toys. The architecture was medieval—stone walls, wooden beams, but something felt off. Were those… holograms?

A strange blend of old and new.

Panic gripped him. He scrambled up, tripping over his own feet in a body so foreign.

While looking around he noticed something. A mirror stood in the corner.

Panic gripped him. He scrambled to his feet, tripping over his own legs, unfamiliar in this small body. In a corner of the room, a mirror reflected a young child staring back.

It was him.

But not quite.

Leon Graves was gone.

And in his place stood Leon Nightshade.

Leon blinked wildly, his mind struggling to make sense of the impossible. How is this possible? he asked himself, his head spinning. Is this. reincarnation?

If it's not, then I'm truly losing it. Maybe it's just a hallucination, something that happens when you're dying...

But whatever he did try to make sense of it, there was something irresistibly real about it. His little fingers still grasped a wooden toy, but his eyes—his eyes were different. He looked in the mirror.

He hadn't changed much—except for his hair, now pitch black, and his eyes, which were a deep purple.

Wait. Leon's mind spun. I look. better? Handsome than I ever have?".

But why am I not a baby? He massaged his head in incredulity. Isn't that what reincarnation is all about? You're supposed to start over as a baby.

Confusion wrapped itself around his thoughts, thickening like fog.

Just then, a voice pierced the silence. "Young Master Leon, is everything okay?"

Leon turned sharply. A maid stood in the doorway, her expression a mix of concern and uncertainty.

"Yes, everything is fine, ma'am," he answered automatically. But the maid blinked in surprise.

"Ma'am?" she responded, confused. "You must not address me in that way, Young Master. I'm but a maid."

A realization hit Leon like a bolt of lightning. I'm a young master? He quickly pieced together the rest of it. I must be part of some noble family. I can't let them figure out that I'm not their son—who knows what they'll do to me?

His stomach twisted in nervous panic. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Just act normal. Don't act suspicious.

"Okay," he said, forcing himself to calm down. The maid nodded, still looking at him with curiosity, then left him alone to continue his thoughts.

What kind of world is this? Leon mused. It's medieval, yet there's something... advanced about it. It feels like a world that's both regressed and evolved at the same time. So strange.

As he tried to adjust to this new reality, the door suddenly flew open, and a tall woman stepped inside, her face beaming with warmth.

"Oh, my baby Leon, how are you?" she exclaimed, her voice full of affection.

Leon blinked. She's tall... but I'm probably just short. He looked at her, confused. Who is she?

"Your big sister has come to take you to play," she said, her cheerful tone filling the room.

She was stunning, with dark hair flowing down her back like a river and eyes that drew him in, soft but intense. Leon stood frozen, unsure how to respond.

Am I supposed to be noble? How do I talk? How do I walk? How do I eat? AHH, what if they find out? Panic gripped him. What if they realize that I'm not their son?

He breathed deeply, forcing his thoughts into focus. He couldn't afford to crack.

He managed to speak, in a small, innocent voice. "Sister, where are we going?"

"We're going to visit the others—your brothers and sisters," she answered with a smile. "They've been wanting to see you. Your third birthday is coming up in a week, so they want to spend time with you before you're too busy."

Three? Leon's heart skipped a beat. I'm only three?

His mind reeled. The body of a child, yet the thoughts of a man. It was more than he could process.

In a daze, he pinched himself. The sharp sting brought everything crashing back to reality.

I've really been reborn.

His chest tightened as the weight of it all settled over him. He had another chance at life. Another chance to change things, to live differently.

"I have another chance..." he whispered to himself, his voice trembling with the enormity of it.

But the sudden rush of emotion was too much. His body, overwhelmed by the truth, couldn't handle it. His vision blurred, and everything went black.

The last thing he heard was the frantic voices of the maid and his sister calling his name, rushing toward him in panic.

When he awoke, he was lying in a soft, warm bed. Leon groaned, his body aching as he slowly sat up, blinking against the disorienting light fixture on the ceiling.

His sister was sitting beside him, with a more concerned look on her face. The maid, too, was in the room, playing with her hands nervously. They both watched him intently.

"Young Master, you're awake," the maid said softly, relief flooding her tone.

"How are you feeling?" his sister asked, her voice unusually gentle, as if afraid of frightening him.

Leon's heart pounded as the events of the past moments came rushing back. His body felt heavier now, his mind clearer. His pulse quickened as he realized that he had, in fact, been reborn into a completely new life. He was here, in a place that was so foreign, and yet... it felt strangely familiar, as though some part of it belonged to him.

"I... I'm fine," Leon said,

his voice raspier than he expected. He cleared his throat and glanced around the room.

"Where am I?"

"You are in your chambers, Young Master," the maid answered. "You've been resting for hours. Your sister brought you here after you fainted."

Leon's eyes shifted to the window. The sky outside was dark, the stars barely visible through the thick glass. It had been nightfall when he passed out, he realized. How long was I out?

He looked at his sister, trying to read her expression. There was a mix of concern and curiosity in her eyes, as though she wasn't sure how to approach him.

"My sister… what's your name?" Leon asked, the words slipping out before he could stop them. He cursed himself mentally. I should know this.

She smiled at him, though it seemed strained. "My name is Lysandra, Leon. I'm your older sister. You... you've been a little out of sorts lately, but we can get you back to your usual self." She paused, eyeing him carefully. "Is there anything you need?"

Leon froze for a moment. Lysandra. A name that felt unfamiliar, yet somehow... right. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could form another word, his stomach growled loudly. The realization hit him hard. I haven't eaten in who knows how long.

Lysandra laughed softly, her eyes lighting up with the gentleness of an older sibling. "Seems like you're hungry. I'll have something brought up immediately."

She motioned for the maid to leave and quickly pulled a chair closer to the bed, sitting down beside him. Her presence was warm and comforting. Leon swallowed, suddenly aware of how fragile his new body felt. He was young, so young. This wasn't his body, not really. But it was the body he had now, and he had to learn to navigate this strange new life.

"Do you remember anything before you fainted?" Lysandra asked, her tone shifting to something softer, almost worried. "You've been having strange dreams lately, and... well, it seems like the last few days have been hard on you."

Leon's heart skipped a beat. Dreams? He couldn't remember any dreams, not clearly. But he could feel the shadows in his mind—the vague recollections of something... darker.

He pushed those thoughts away. Focus. You need to focus on now.

"I'm fine," he said again, trying to reassure both himself and her. "I just got... overwhelmed."

Lysandra studied him for a moment, her gaze unwavering. "If you're sure," she said softly. "Just remember, we're all here for you. You're not alone, Leon."

Her words, so simple and kind, struck him harder than he expected. In this moment, with his mind still reeling from everything, he realized just how much this new life would require of him. The weight of his past life, the murder of his family, and his strange reincarnation—all of it would hang over him. He would have to adapt, to fit into this role, or risk exposing the truth.

A soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, and a servant entered, carrying a tray of food.

Lysandra smiled warmly. "Ah, perfect timing. You must be starving."

Leon nodded, his mouth watering at the sight of the bread, fruits, and a steaming bowl of soup placed in front of him. As he reached for the spoon, his hands trembled, a mix of hunger and nerves gripping him. This is real, he reminded himself. This is my new life.

As he took the first bite, Lysandra watched him with a quiet intensity, her eyes thoughtful. Leon didn't know what to make of her yet, but one thing was certain—he was going to have to play this role well. For his survival, for his sanity.

And for the chance at something he had never dared hope for: a second chance at life.

Leon awoke, the warmth of the sun filtering through the heavy curtains that adorned his chambers. His body felt strangely refreshed. the vivid memory of his death, the pain, and the anger were now distant, almost surreal.

He was alive, reborn into a life that was both strange and filled with an unsettling sense of destiny. He was no longer the ordinary boy who had once walked the streets of a modern city.

He was now Leon Nightshade, heir to a powerful family in a world that seemed as beautiful as it was dangerous.

The world outside his window was already bustling, the sounds of servants and people preparing for the day drifting up to him. His third birthday ceremony was today, and he couldn't escape the weight of it.

Despite his confusion, his body responded to the excitement in the air—he was young, and today was his day, the day he would officially begin his life as a member of the prestigious Nightshade family.

As he stood, his new body felt smaller, more fragile than his previous one, but the odd strength that lingered in his bones gave him a sense of invincibility.

He was quickly dressed in the fine silks and embroidered garments that had been prepared for him with the help of the maids. It took a little getting used to, but now it was all second nature to him.

The rich hues of dark purple and black fitting with his family's signature colors. The insignia of the Nightshade family—a stylized purple flower surrounded by intricate silver filigree—was embroidered on his chest. It was a symbol of power, mystery, and history, a legacy that had lasted for centuries.

By the time he was ready, the maid from before, along with several others, had entered to escort him to the grand hall.

They led him down the narrow hallways, the cold stone floors smooth beneath his feet, until they reached the large double doors that opened into a massive chamber. The air was thick with the scent of incense, and the space was filled with luxurious tapestries depicting battles, ancient heroes, and otherworldly creatures.

In the center of the hall stood an enormous stone table covered with rich platters of food, but Leon barely noticed. His eyes were drawn to the presence of the many figures gathered around.

As he entered, a chorus of voices called out greetings. He was met with warm smiles, yet beneath their friendly expressions, Leon could see something more—expectation, and wariness. These people were all waiting for something, and that something was him.

The first person who approached him was his father—Varek Nightshade, a tall, imposing figure with cold, sharp features. This was the lord of Nightshade. His hair was as dark as a raven's wing, and his eyes, like Leon's, were a deep shade of purple that glimmered in the light. His father wore a cloak of jet black, trimmed in silver. He had the commanding presence of a ruler, someone who held the power to shape the world with a single word.

"My son," Lord Nightshade said, his voice deep and resonant. He placed a hand on Leon's shoulder, the weight of his touch reminding him just how much this family controlled. "Today marks the beginning of your life as a true Nightshade. You will learn what it means to wield the power of our lineage."

Leon nodded, unsure of how to respond. He had questions, so many questions, but for now, he would keep them to himself. There was something about his father's gaze, cold yet affectionate, that warned him against speaking too freely.

As everyone gathered for the ceremony, Leon listened as his father began to speak, his voice booming across the hall.

"The Nightshade family," Lord Nightshade declared, "is one of the top three powers of the continent of Veydras. We have maintained our dominance over the human kingdoms for generations. It is our legacy, and it is one that Leon will be given the chance to inherit. He will be trained in the ways of leadership, diplomacy, and combat. He will learn to wield the power of the Nightshade bloodline, a power that has shaped Veydras for centuries."

Leon's mind swirled. Top three powers?

The other families—the ruling houses of Veydras—were formidable, each holding immense influence across the continent. The Nightshade family, though, was different. They were known for their extraordinary stealth, their connections to ancient magics, and their ability to manipulate shadows and darkness. The Nightshades were feared, respected, and envied by many.

Leon felt the weight of his family's legacy settle on his shoulders. He had been thrust into this strange, powerful world, one that was fraught with danger. But as he looked around at the faces of the people in the room—his family, his future allies—he knew he had little choice but to play the part.

He was the son of the Nightshades now. He had a destiny to fulfill. And this world—Veydras, Aetheria Prime—was his to command.

For better or worse.