Chapter 1 - Part I
The Rise of a Sun
Part I
Gasping for breath, you jolt awake. Darkness is overtaken by splotchy lights, and everything is a blur to you.
Your chest is tight, and you hold yourself. It was as though hundreds of hummingbirds were beating against your ribcage. With adrenaline surging through your body, your mind reels – clear as a crystal lake with not a single inhabitant.
No thoughts, just sensations. Pressure. Ache. Heat. Unbearable... You close your eyes. Only one certainty of crushing defeat remains.
When the feeling fades, and a breath no longer brings a burning sensation to your lungs, you begin to gather yourself. With your head no longer ringing, you open your eyes again to see an unfamiliar room.
This isn’t a hospital.
Looking down at your blanket covered body, you try to wiggle your toes. A sharp inhale. And then – the memories begin to resurface.
The once in a century disaster had struck near your city that day. As the earth groaned under the undulating pressure, unforgiving to all that laid on its foundations, the building you once called home had collapsed.
The drawback of living in an old house was the structural supports not being able to last the aftershocks that followed. As you made to collect your survival pack before evacuating, your lower half became pinned by a support beam. Trapped in your hallway, the pain briefly registered as the shock overwhelmed you.
The civil defence sirens were wailing when you regained consciousness. It was difficult to gain any attention for help from anyone. Sprawled as you were, hoarse from previous yells, your gut clenched as hope withered away.
On a downed clock, its cracked face showed working hands pointing to over half an hour having passed. There wasn’t any chance of salvaging your legs even if you were to be saved.
In a state of emergency, being rescued from the debris atop you, would almost certainly kill you from your own poison. So as you felt the fatigue build, your mind fogging to places unknown, you wished your last goodbyes. You wished for your family to be safe, and you wished for happiness.
Your eyes drooped close to nothingness.
Now, what seemed like sleep had quickly left. You can wiggle your toes, and you can feel your thigh smarting from pinching yourself. This wasn’t a dream. Your legs were fine. You were alive.
How did I get here? You wondered. Did the earthquake really happen?
Getting up, you tentatively place your feet on the ground. A pair of embroidered slippers sat by the bedside - they were conveniently your size. There was no way this was any kind of rescue operation.
For one, you would have been sharing a room with others that were rescued. No one else was in the room as far as you can tell. To further back your claim, there was nothing standard about the room or its amenities.
The room you were in seemed to be filled with a minimalistic opulence. Grand in its architecture, yet not over embellished with its furnishing. Nothing seemed unnecessary within the space.
It was hard to describe in a way, your mind still stumbling over what was and what is.
The ceiling curved like the inside of a shell, as if unfolding from the head of the bed you had awoken from, into an open space seemingly too big for a bedroom. Warm lighting illuminated the space, highlighting some hanging blooms and giving it a picturesque tranquility.
You graze the russet silk sheets and white fur blankets that adorn the bed. A study area was across from you, a bookcase nearly taking the entire wall. There was even a seating area to the side of the room, with a pitted low round table, and a chaise lounge to boot. The wood gleamed and you finally noticed that the furnishings were likely carved and engraved by an artisan.
Not standard at all.
A brief musical note filtering through the air, was what startled you from your observations. What once was a wall with decorative drapings, or so you thought, began to lose its opacity; revealing to you, a view you were sure to only exist in dreams or movies.
Gazing outward, you saw the sun shining brightly in the sky, and what seemed to be twin moons still visible near the horizon line. There was a city within the distance, greenery still interspersed to seem more welcoming and less unfeeling with the sheen of towering buildings.
Your eyes were captured by a movement from one of the closer buildings. Was that a giant bird?
Squinting, you peered closer before shaking your head to readjust yourself. Your eyes widened. It wasn’t a bird, it was some type of aircraft. And if your eyes weren’t failing, there were plenty of them zooming throughout the city before you.
Did I somehow wake up in the future? This is crazy.
“Good morning, Miss Raylin. It is now 0630. Breakfast will be served shortly. Please prepare yourself. The Patriarch requests your presence.” An artificial, yet child-like voice told you.
Your right foot steps back.
“Raylin?” You whirl around to find the source of the voice. A tiny, egg-shaped droid was ‘blinking’ at you politely, as if processing the question.
Initially, you had only taken a cursory glance at the contents of the bookcase, but you were sure that there were only books and ornaments laying there, not a robot. You hadn’t seen anything with a face.
“You are Miss Raylin. Good morning. Did you sleep well?” Cocking its little head, it moves to be in front of you. It then tracks your steps, as you walk around it in marvel.
“My name’s not Raylin…” Your voice trails.
In response, a blue light pulses from the droid’s chest, scanning you from head to toe. You almost flinch.
“Vitals are stable. There are no signs of head trauma. Miss Raylin is in good health.”
“I—I was in an earthquake. My legs were…” Your voice falters, trembling at the memory that was still vivid from what seems to be yesterday.
“Dream remnants,” the little droid suggested. “Perhaps disorientation as an effect of waking earlier than your usual time, Miss Raylin.”
Your hands flounder. “That wasn’t a dream remnant,” then you introduce yourself, as if proving a point.
The little bot shook its head in confusion. “Miss Raylin has no such alias recorded in my data chip. Perhaps this identity is still echoing from your dream?”
Spluttering, you struggled to coherently define the clash between your reality and this dream like farce. What you have experienced is very much real no matter what the stupid AI said.
As the conversation volleyed on, and neither you nor the droid could agree on one identity, you finally realised you were getting nowhere. Throwing up your hands, you let out an exasperated huff at yourself. Robots like all machines needed the right prompts.
Approaching this from a different angle, you try to get an answer that would help. “Why don’t you remind me who Raylin is–then you can help me get home.”
It blinks its eyes, processing, then replies in a cheerful tone. “Miss Raylin is the daughter of House Sol, residing on the planet Hestia. As I am programmed to recognise, you are my owner - Miss Raylin.”
Now it was your turn to blink fast, the words striking you squarely like lightning. Did-did that thing just say, Raylin of House Sol- Raylin Sol?! Like a sailor, creative curses were flying in the privacy of your mind.
Neurons were transmitting fire in your brain, sparking synapses trying to form valid connections. It was a complete overdrive that was aiming to make sense of a nonsensical notion you were beginning to think was the truth.
With every deduction came denial. But that only worked until there was no other option but to confront the only possibility.
“You are 18 years old, born on the 8th of the fifth month–” The droid’s voice seemed to fade with the almost rude realisation.
First: You were most likely dead. Actually, since this was no longer Earth, you had definitely died. The beam had practically crushed your lower body to death. You’d taken the risk for the dream of homeownership in a hellish market. A fixer upper, in the most fatal sense. It ended up to be a deathtrap for your own demise.
While dying was… unfortunate, there was no point in sobbing over the uncontrollable. You could grieve later. Right now, you have to be a functioning adult and figure how you fit into this situation. Especially if Raylin was expected for breakfast shortly.
Second: You had woken up in what could only be described as a futuristic city. The multitude of aircrafts zooming through sleek towers and this little robot, couldn’t sway you otherwise. Even hover cars were still not feasible in your time, and air traffic control was heavily restricted in populated areas.
You had no grounds to resist the idea that this was a different planet to Earth.
Third: The name Raylin Sol. Any other Raylin’s wouldn’t have stumped you and it certainly wouldn’t capture your attention like this. But-
Raylin Sol?!
That name made your stomach drop.
Add a planet named Hestia, and you’ve definitely read something about her before. Of all things, she was someone you have read about in a fantasy-romance novel for easy bedtime readings.
God damn it. The bitter irony settles on your tongue. Out of all the possible lives to wake up to, I get reincarnated as the antagonist of a space-fantasy novel?
· · ─ ·⛧°. ⋆༺☾𖤓༻⋆. °⛧· ─ · ·· · ─ ·⛧°. ⋆༺☾𖤓༻⋆. °⛧· ─ · ·
AN: Thank you for reading!
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If you like to read a video game transmigration story, check out my other work: Milena’s Kosmos.
