Chapter 1
The steady rhythm of the heart monitor was the only thing cutting through the oppressive silence of the room.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Elias lay motionless on the bed, feeling more fragile than ever. Outside the window, the world continued its indifferent march—children were running, the sun was shining, and life moved on, oblivious to his slow fading.
The door creaked open.
“How are you feeling today?” the doctor asked, his voice professional yet hollow.
Elias didn’t answer immediately. His eyes remained fixed on the sky. His arms were dry husks, his legs lacked the strength to even twitch… his entire body seemed to have given up long before his mind did.
“Doctor…” Elias’s voice was a mere rasp. “Do you believe in life after death?”
The doctor hesitated, clutching the results of the latest exam—numbers that only confirmed the inevitable. “Why do you ask?”
“If there were another life… what would you want to be?” Elias asked, never turning away from the window.
The doctor let out a tired sigh. “Perhaps… someone without so many responsibilities,” he said, with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “And you?”
Elias closed his eyes, searching for an answer in the darkness behind his lids. “I would like to run,” he whispered. “Run until my lungs burn.”
Suddenly, the monitor’s rhythm broke.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep—
Then, silence.
The pain vanished. The crushing weight of his illness evaporated. The air grew light. For the first time in years, Elias felt nothing… except warmth.
Birds were singing.
He opened his eyes. The sun was hitting his skin—not cold, not frail… but vibrant. Elias raised his hand, and his breath hitched. The arms that were once nothing but skin and bone now possessed muscle, tone, and life.
This wasn’t his hospital room. It wasn’t his body. And it was definitely… not his world.
He scrambled out of bed, his heart racing without apparent cause. Beside the bed, a polished bronze basin reflected a face… that wasn’t his. A surge of strangeness tightened his chest, but he forced himself to look at the window before panic could take hold. The wind danced through the curtains, revealing an absurdly beautiful day—a cruel contrast to the chaos within him.
He breathed deeply and looked down. His legs were still covered by the sheets. Without thinking, he tore them away. The shock was immediate. His legs, once thin as dry twigs, were strong. Powerful. Alive.
“What… is happening?” was all his mouth could produce.
He pushed off the mattress to stand. His body reacted naturally, with a grace it clearly practiced every day, but his mind couldn’t keep up. His balance faltered, and he fell to his knees.
“Your Highness? Did something happen?” a firm female voice called from behind the door.
Elias froze. His throat tightened; he couldn’t find his voice.
“I’m coming in,” the voice announced.
“Wait, don’t—” Elias tried to stop her, but it was too late.
The door swung open, revealing a woman with black hair pulled back in a practical style. Her eyes swept the room and landed on him. “What are you doing on the floor?” she asked, her tone flat.
“I… nothing much,” Elias replied, trying to stand. His legs were trembling—not from weakness, but from sheer confusion.
She watched him from head to toe. It was only then that he realized the obvious: he was naked. Heat rushed to his face as he grabbed the sheet to cover himself. The woman, however, showed no reaction. No surprise, no shame. Only… neutrality.
“Your Highness, do not cause trouble so early in the morning,” she said. Now that he could observe her better, he noticed her light clothing designed for mobility, and two swords at her waist—a long one and a short one—hitched with precision to her belt.
“Highness…?” he repeated to himself.
“You need to cut back on the drinking, sir. It’s affecting your memory,” she replied with controlled impatience.
Suddenly, a second voice—soft and drowsy—spoke from the bed behind him. “Aether, come back to bed… it’s still early.”
A woman he hadn’t even noticed was sitting up, completely naked and seemingly unbothered by the guard’s presence. Elias’s mind reeled. None of this made sense.
The guard, whom the other woman called Lygni, didn’t blink. “Get out now,” Lygni ordered the woman in bed. “His Highness is in no condition for company.”
The other woman huffed and began to dress. As she passed Lygni, she whispered a sharp provocation: “Lygni… you always ruin the fun. One day, I’ll make you moan my name instead.”
Lygni showed no irritation. Only the boredom of someone who had heard it all before. “Your Highness, the meeting with your father is soon. I suggest you take a bath.” With that, she vanished into the hallway, leaving Elias—now Aether—completely alone.
He stumbled into the bathroom and froze before the mirror. The confirmation hit him like a physical blow: this body was not his. Defined muscles, broad shoulders, a rigid abdomen. The skin was firm, without a single scar of fragility. His black hair fell in a disordered mess over an intense, sharp gaze.
With this body… he could run for days. He could truly exist.
But then, his stomach turned. Nausea surged so fast he couldn’t contain it. He gripped the sink and vomited. The smell of heavy, bitter wine filled the air.
Cleaning his mouth, he looked at the mirror again. The man staring back was a stranger. A prince. A drunkard.
He dressed in the most discreet clothes he could find among the luxury of the wardrobe. A knock echoed on the door. “Are you ready, Your Highness?” Lygni’s voice called.
Before stepping out, he faced his reflection one last time. “Please… let me live, just this once,” he whispered. He took a breath, reached for the handle, and opened the door. “I will do my best.”
