Embers of the New World

The early years passed in fragments—training, feasts, lessons, discipline. But today was different. Today, Riven began to learn who he truly was in this world.

His new name was Rivanar Vanyor, but the name meant little to him. What mattered were the people tied to it.

"Your father," said the elder tutor with a voice like gravel, "is Lord Kael Vanyor, the Dragon of War. He once fought an army of ten thousand alone and returned with only cracked knuckles. Your mother is Lady Serya Vanyor, the Silver Lioness, whose roar can silence beasts and men alike."

Riven sat in silence, absorbing each word. These were not just tales. They were expectations. His rebirth wasn't into a peaceful family—it was into a dynasty of monsters. And now, he was the heir to that strength.

"Why was I born into this world?" he wondered, not for the first time. He still remembered the void. The fight. Ashren. The shame. The helplessness.

Not again. Never again.

He spent mornings shadowing his parents from afar, studying how they moved, how they stood. At night, he mimicked their stances under moonlight, his small body straining to copy techniques far beyond his age.

Then came the day he first saw it.

During a spar between two elite disciples of House Vanyor, a flash of light appeared around their bodies—a shimmer of translucent energy that surged with every motion.

"What is that?" Riven asked the old scribe.

The man raised a brow. "That, young master, is the manifestation of their system."

"System?"

"You will understand in time. For now, know this—it is the path of power in this world. We call it the Eightfold Meridian Gate. It is said that every being is born with it... yet most die without unlocking even a single gate."

Riven's heart pounded.

A system. A real one.

He had dreamed of power in his past life. But this—this was a structured path. A way to rise. A way to conquer.

"Can I… learn to use it?"

"Not yet," the scribe replied. "You must first learn to read, write, and speak the old tongue. Only then can you awaken to the truth of your soul."

So Riven began anew.

Days filled with lessons in calligraphy, speech, etiquette, and history. At first, he resisted. It felt slow. Weak. Pointless.

But the fire inside him burned hotter.

Every scroll he mastered, every glyph he wrote without mistake—he felt something shift inside. As if the very act of learning pulled him closer to awakening the dormant power within.

Even in this new life, there were no shortcuts.

The only way forward was through discipline.

And through discipline, he would forge the weapon that would one day break Ashren.

Not in this world.

But in the one he left behind.

It was during a geography lesson that Riven first learned how vast and strange this world truly was.

The scribe unrolled a massive parchment map across the floor. Mountains with burning peaks. Forests that pulsed with glowing flora. Oceans filled with ancient ruins. Cities built in the sky.

"Are these real?" Riven asked, tracing the inked lines with wonder.

"Indeed," the scribe nodded. "This world—Velgryn—is home to many more races than just humans. You will meet them, in time."

"Elves, dwarfs, and beastkin dwell among us. The elves are masters of the arcane and the longbow. Dwarves craft weapons that could pierce dragonscale. The beastkin tribes follow their primal instincts and fight with ferocity unmatched."

Riven's eyes widened. These were races he had only seen in games and movies back on Earth.

"They exist?" he whispered.

"Yes," the scribe replied, smiling slightly at his awe. "And not just them. This world teems with monsters—creatures from myth and nightmare. Griffins roam the northern peaks. Basilisks guard the deserts. Leviathans sleep beneath the western sea."

The names hit like a rush of adrenaline. He remembered their designs, their abilities. He remembered how hard they were to beat in games. And now… he might face them. For real.

"There are dungeons, too," the tutor continued. "Cursed ruins from the old world, where ancient beasts sleep and treasures lie untouched. Those who dare enter them are either fools… or heroes."

Riven's mind raced.

A world with systems, races, monsters, and dungeons. It was everything he ever fantasized about—except it wasn't a game. There were no respawns. No retries.

But that didn't frighten him.

It thrilled him.

Because this time, he had the tools. The talent. The legacy.

And more than anything… he had a purpose.

Revenge had followed him into this world. And now, the path to strength was clearer than ever.