Chapter 9: Chapter 2: New Beginnings

Sean's Descent

Year 600

Nothing has changed in my life. I've never been able to protect the ones I care about. But at least in my final moments, I could stop this monster from hurting anyone else.

Slowly, everything fades to black, and I feel myself falling into a black lake, a red ribbon hanging on to me. As the water pulls me deeper, everything turns pitch black. When I try to gasp for air, I'm suddenly on the blackened ground, surrounded by golden lights.

My senses are disoriented, and confusion engulfs me. I instinctively reach out, grasping for any understanding of where I am and how I got here.

But as I try to grasp onto the memories of the fall into the black lake, they slip through my mind like elusive fragments of a shattered mirror. It's as if I've been transported to another realm, disconnected from the reality I once knew.

I look at my hands and body, and everything is back intact.

In confusion, I yell, trying to process where I am. That's when I notice a silhouetted figure draped in a golden veil, without an exact human shape.

The figure chuckles a bit before offering a unique, feminine voice, almost insulting. It calls out, saying, "What a shame you died. It was such a great fight, even if you weren't going to win. I didn't expect you to be able to do much, but it made for a fantastic show."

I cut off the voice and demanded to know where I am and how I'm alive.

The voice laughs more and responds, "What makes you think you are alive, boy?" I chuckle a bit, sit back down on the voided ground, and reply, "You're right. I'm dead, so none of this matters."

I ask if the voice can just move my soul on instead of harassing me, or if there's something I'm supposed to do.

The voice spitefully responds, "Truth be told, I don't know why you're here. This is no place for lost spirits, let alone ones that can manifest their old bodies. The flow of time will correct this error soon, and you will be sent on your way."

I inquired if this was a bad thing.

The voice explains, "When you move on, your soul will be recycled, and time will move on as if nothing happened, as it always has. But I will take a particular liking to you and closely monitor you."

As the voice speaks, a dark hazy mist hovers around me with a twisted smile. It says, "I was unaware that IT had latched onto you," before returning to its chair, chuckling in the same feminine voice.

I try to ask what that means, but everything begins to get blurry, and my vision fades into darkness. The pain of burning flesh takes over, and I fall down onto the floor, as if it was never there.

As I'm falling through, I catch a glimpse of Arthur falling off in the distance, turning into blue particle dust. My brain rattles with pain, but I have no time to think about what I saw before everything turns to black, and I fall unconscious.

When I blink my eyes open, there is no pain. Did I have some bizarre dream? How could I possibly be okay after what happened? That's when I hear some voices calling out.

Two giant figures tower over me. Could these be doctors or something? I try to stand up but find myself unable to. When I attempt to lift my arms, I come to the shocking realization that I am no longer myself. These must be my parents.

I can't speak or do anything except flail my arms helplessly. It's pretty embarrassing, honestly, when I think about it.

I'm overwhelmed by intense information and struggle to process what's happening. I decide to close my eyes, and when I open them, I'm in an entirely new room.

It's odd; maybe I fell asleep. If this is all real, then the vision I had and my death were real too. A gleeful excitement rushes through me at the thought.

Have I been reincarnated, like in all those manga stories I've read online? It must be. Or perhaps it has something to do with the lady's voice mentioning that I fell off the flow of time.

So many questions that I don't think I'll ever have the answers to. It really sucks not being able to talk and having all these thoughts and questions flowing around. I close my eyes once more, and as expected, when I open them, I'm somewhere else.

I'm surrounded by the same two giant figures. Well, maybe I'm just tiny, but they keep trying to make me laugh by making silly faces.

They keep yelling the name "Articius" – Art-it-cus. That's probably my name, although I can't understand anything else they are saying. It makes sense they wouldn't speak English.

By the looks of it, my mother is a dark redhead with a slender build, while Pops has dark brown hair. He's definitely on the bulky side.

I wonder if he's one of those Creatine freaks. I bet I could have taken him before I died, though he is really well-built. He's wearing a blue shipmen's outfit with a straw tie, giving off waterish vibes.

It's a peculiar feeling to have both my parents so excited to see me. I grew up never seeing them and was pretty much alone my whole life, so I'd be lying if I said I wasn't feeling some type of joy.

I slowly closed my eyes again, and before I knew it, four weeks had passed, filled with mornings, evenings, and nights. I think I've gotten the hang of their names.

My dad's name is Aleksander, and my mother's name is Zivian. They have unique names that I wasn't used to hearing in my previous life, but it doesn't matter.

Having this level of attention and love is something I never got to experience, and that's enough for me at the end of the day.

Over the next two months, I began to soak in all the new information about the world and my environment. Having all my old memories helped me develop faster and catch on.

At three months old now, I've learned that they speak a language much different from English, but most of the letters look the same, just rearranged a bit. So it shouldn't take me long to learn the nuances and pick up what they say.

From the few times I've been out, it seems that our village is involved in boat-making. There are lots of burly men carrying wood back and forth day in and day out. My parents look to be roughly around 22-25, perhaps right around the time when I died.

It's hard to pinpoint exactly, but they seem happy enough despite always being exhausted from a long day of work. Mom cooks the same meal for Dad daily, a potato curry with some herbs. The aroma is tantalizing, and I can't wait to be able to try it.

The town area and the docking area seem to be pretty close, allowing for easy access to move lumber and other goods. The attire here resembles a medieval timeline, with people wearing tunics and stockings. However, they seem to have some advanced materials as well. I've noticed what appears to be a touch screen, constantly shining a bright blue light. It's quite odd for such a robust place. People would point at things and then go about their day.

It's all overwhelming and, at times, depressing. Trying to focus on this new life after such a tragic end, where everyone I cared about died, still eats away at me. It's hard to accept.

I do my best to stay focused on what I can control. That's what Arthur would do, at least.

It's been roughly eight months now, and I'm finally grasping more of the world around me. I've come to learn that we're not just in a small boat town; we might be the largest I've ever seen.

Spanning about 3-4 miles long, dozens of giant boats are scattered around, some broken down and others being repaired. This must be the main capital for shipments and boat repairs. Surrounding the boats is a beautiful emerald-blue coastline, with seagull-like animals chirping from above. They seemed much larger and fluffier than what I was accustomed to seeing.

It's a marvelous sight to behold, and it fills me with awe at how beautiful and big this world is. Maybe it's just my size that makes everything seem larger than it actually is. Regardless, it's an amazing view. Today, I'm going aboard one of the large vessels with Father.

He seems eager to bring me on board. The interior design of the boat is rustic, with lots of beautiful pictures hanging around. Most of the boats look like cargo ships, but this one has ports that seem fit for cannons. It makes sense that they would need some battleships, considering war is commonplace in any world.

As we dock off and begin heading around the coast, Father lifts me onto his shoulders, giving me a good view of everything surrounding the land. He says, "One day, you will do everything you can to protect this kingdom and build the strongest boats imaginable to conquer anything the sea throws at you." With a hearty laugh, he adds, "But not anytime soon." After a couple of hours, we start heading back during sunset.

As we cross the huge castle that looks like it could take up the space of the entirety of Chicago itself, three to four small boats start coming up to our ship, moving abnormally fast. I hear one of the men on our boat scream, "Pirates!" Before we know it, a large hook comes over the side of the boat, and two to three burly men jump on board—one with a sword and two others with oddly shaped staffs.