The sky loomed darker than usual, a strange veil stretching overhead. Was it just my imagination?

  A dying man's final illusion?

  Maybe it was the blood clouding my vision, or maybe the world had finally shown its true colors, cold, bleak, indifferent.

  I lay there, breath shallow, fading like so many before me. Mere cannon fodder.

  Once, I dreamed of being a hero. I imagined praise, purpose, and power.

  I wanted to live without fear, to love without caution, to matter in a world that so often made people feel small.

  But I was just another nameless soldier dying in the dirt, surrounded by the bodies of comrades who had hoped for the same things.

  I had fought for the kingdom of Lionah, locked in a seemingly endless war with Dellah.

  Years of conflict had stripped meaning from every battle.

  Our victories were rare and fleeting, our losses frequent and bitter.

  We fought to protect, to endure, but the cost only ever grew heavier.

  And now, in the end, what had it all meant?

  How many lives had I taken with this blade? How many had pleaded for mercy? And what mercy had I given?

  So why, why did I want to be spared?

  They say a hero is selfless. Just, noble. Someone who stands tall with strength and grace.

  I had wanted that.

  I had wanted to laugh under the stars, to die peacefully, knowing I had earned rest.

  But peace felt like a betrayal.

  I wasn’t worthy of a quiet death. I was just a soldier who wanted to protect his home. A man who failed.

  Blood dripped from my gauntlet as I reached for my sword, pressing it to my chest. Whether the blood was mine or not, I couldn’t say. But I smiled.

  "Even in my pitiful life," I murmured, "I did find one thing to enjoy. The stars."

  The words left my mouth, followed swiftly by blood, staining the cold earth beneath me.

  The sky began to clear as if in response, revealing a breathtaking celestial body tapestry.

  That was what I wanted. To reach out, and just for a moment, touch the stars.

  My eyes shut, and I died.

  Or at least, that was what was supposed to happen.

  A sudden heat ignited in my chest, a searing burn, like a roaring fire consuming me from within.

  Then, my eyes snapped open.

  It was bright. It was hot. The air felt heavy, thick, pressing against my skin.

  The world around me spun, my body weak, so weak I could barely move.

  I gasped, coughing violently, each breath rattling in my chest. Blood spilled from my lips in heaving gasps.

  My mind raced, and as the haze lifted, I realized I wasn’t in a room.

  I was lying in a forest.

  Leaves drifted down onto my face. Birds chirped in the distance.

  Beams of sunlight pierced through the canopy, casting golden streaks over the earth.

  I groaned, pushing myself up slowly, my head pounding in a daze.

  My limbs trembled, refusing to obey me. My body moved sluggishly, almost involuntarily.

  I stumbled. My legs gave out. My hands clawed at the dirt as I gasped for air.

  Coughing again, I dragged myself forward, my fingers grasping at fallen leaves.

  I tried to stand, using the rough bark of a tree for support. My vision swam. I staggered, reaching desperately for a hanging branch.

  Then I saw it.

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  A stream.

  Water.

  I stumbled toward it, each step a battle against my failing strength. More coughing. More pain. But I kept moving.

  Kneeling by the stream’s edge, I gazed down into the water. Clear, flowing, teeming with fish.

  And there, my reflection.

  Short, curly brown hair hanging down to my ears. Light brown eyes, wide with confusion. Slightly tanned skin. A face young, far too young. Immature, untouched by time.

  My name was Callum, but I wasn't a kid, I was a twenty five year old man.

  I looked young. Too young. And I was hurt. Badly hurt.

  A chill ran through me. My breath quickened. My hands trembled.

  “What day is this? What year is this?”

  I turned away, wiping the blood from my mouth.

  My core felt damaged, my mind a chaotic mess.

  Memories clashed and blurred together, fragments colliding like shattered glass.

  I could barely think, but one truth stood out amidst the confusion.

  I was sent back in time.

  I looked down at myself. A simple brown tunic, black pants, and short brown boots.

  A short sword hung at my side, its edge stained with bits of dried blood.

  My fingers brushed against my forehead as I tried to focus, piecing together the last moments before everything changed.

  And then, it hit me all at once.

  The war. My death. My return.

  I knew this day. Knew it too well. This was the day I had attempted to join the knights. This moment was an hour before that trial.

  I knew why I was so wounded.

  I had been fighting something.

  A deep breath filled my lungs as I steadied myself. I remembered the beast as clearly as if it were standing before me.

  A monstrous creature that had crushed my dreams before they had even begun.

  It had been the reason I failed my first knight trials, forcing me to wait another year.

  I clenched my jaw and drew my sword.

  Steadying my stance, I scanned my surroundings. My movements were careful and precise.

  Then I saw it, the remnants of our battle. The claw marks in the trees, the splattered blood on the ground.

  I had gravely injured it last time, but not before it took something from me.

  My arm.

  I had lost it that day.

  Though it was later reattached, the injury had permanently dulled my reaction time in battle. A flaw that had haunted me for years.

  A sharp snap beneath my foot broke the silence.

  The forest trembled.

  Then, a roar, deep and enraged, ripped through the trees, shaking the very air.

  I ran.

  The earth quaked with each monstrous step behind me.

  The trees no longer shielded me from the sunlight.

  Bursting into an open clearing, I spun around, my grip tightening around my blade.

  And then I saw it.

  A massive bear, its eyes burning with red mana, its maw twisting into a furious snarl.

  It charged.

  Its massive claws swung down.

  I barely dodged left, the air whistling past my ear as the blow shattered the earth where I had just stood.

  I darted right, twisting my body, and slashed my sword along its jaw.

  It screeched.

  Fury burned in its gaze as it spun, slamming its entire body into me.

  The impact sent me tumbling, the force knocking the wind from my lungs.

  My back hit the ground hard, pain lancing through me.

  But there was no time to hesitate.

  I rolled, barely avoiding another swipe, and lunged forward.

  My sword drove into its paw, piercing through flesh and bone.

  With every ounce of strength in my body, I twisted, using the beast’s own momentum to flip it over me.

  The ground shook as it crashed down.

  I pulled my sword free, breathing heavily. My limbs ached and my chest heaved, but I had one final move left.

  Summoning the last of my strength, I leapt.

  With a single, decisive strike, I plunged my blade deep into its body.

  The beast let out one final, guttural roar before its body went limp.

  Silence fell over the clearing.

  I stood there, panting, blood dripping from my mouth.

  Then, slowly, I let go of my sword, leaving it buried in the beast’s corpse as my knees buckled beneath me.

  A cough. More blood. A chuckle followed soon after. I realized the weight of it all.

  I had been given a chance. A chance to change everything. To rewrite my life.

  To become a hero. At least that is what I would have thought before.

  Now, all I could do was look up at the sky and smile.

  I raised my hand, reaching for something beyond my grasp.

  Though it was day and the sun blazed high above me, I still stretched my fingers toward the heavens.

  And for a fleeting moment, I swore I saw it.

  A shimmer.

  A star.