For a long time, there was only light. A gentle warmth embraced him, soft and delicate hands cradling his face with care. A faint voice hummed a melody, something akin to a soothing lullaby. It was the voice of a woman, though he didn't feel like he recognized it. It stirred no memories, no familiarity—just an odd sense of peace.

Is this heaven?

The thought lingered, fragile and uncertain. Yet, the sensation was undeniably comforting, almost serene. The light surrounding him carried a cozy heat that seeped into his very being, loosening the knots of tension he hadn't realized he still held.

Relax.

The word echoed in his mind, a foreign command. It had been so long since he last felt anything close to relaxation. Not since the void—the suffocating emptiness where he had existed without a body, longing for a sensation, a whisper of something real. And yet, it never came.

So why now?

Driven by desperation he tried to feel. To move. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he strained, reaching out into the unknown. And then, to his suprise, something responded. It was faint, weaker than he remembered, but undeniably real. It was the familiar sensation of having limbs.

Slowly, other feelings started awakening within him again. The rhythmic thump of a heartbeat. The expansion of lungs filling with air. The moisture gathering in his eyes. Each sensation struck him with an almost painful clarity.

Is this a body?

The question burst forth in his mind, more a statement than question. Even then the answer struck him like a hammer: Yes, it is.

Suddenly, he was consumed by a flood of emotions. Joy. Fulfillment. Hope. Even a deep, instinctive peace. All the struggles, the battles, the victories he had fought so hard to claim—they felt like ashes, meaningless in the feeling of this one overwhelming truth: He was alive again.

Elated and trembling with relief, his emotions overflowed, and tears began to form. For the first time in ages, his body responded on its own. His eyes welled up, releasing the torrent he had no words for.

A rumbling, like the cry of an infant, escaped his mouth, but he didn't care. Right now, having all his senses—after so long without them—was the single most important thing.

As tears streamed down his face and he bawled like a child, the soothing lullaby in the background ceased. The hands that had cradled him shifted, wrapping him in a gentle embrace, soft and comforting.

In response, his eyes instinctively opened, tears still blurring his vision.

As the flash of light faded and his sight began to adjust, the first thing he saw was a smile. It shook him to his core. In all his many years of living, this was the first time he had ever perceived something so warm, so profoundly humane.

It was a smile of affection.

Her light brown, almost golden eyes stood out in sharp contrast to her strong, dark hair. Everything about her spoke of grace and nobility, her fine clothing reinforcing the impression. He was so captivated that he stopped crying, his gaze fixed on the woman holding him.

"Are you alright now?" she asked softly, her eyes locked on his.

In the reflection of her bright gaze, he saw himself: an infant, no older than a year.

It was obvious now. From the voice's final words, to his tiny, frail body, to this woman's embrace filled with tenderness—it all made sense at last.

A new life...

He didn't know how to feel about it, and to be fair, he didn't want to. Right now, he only wished to savor the moment—a moment he could never have foreseen.

"How long are you going to keep staring at me, Lorien?" she chuckled faintly, though her eyes never strayed from his.

Lorien? Mother?

He had never known a mother. In his past life, he was sold to the royal army, a scoundrel tasked with cleaning up the knights' messes. No home, no family, no love—that was all he'd ever known. And now, here she was, someone calling herself his mother. Someone holding him with such undeniable affection.

Someone he had longed for so often in his past life, a wish that had remained unanswered.

But now, impossibly, he had a mother. A mother who seemed to love him deeply. And even a name had been given to him.

Lorien...

He chuckled silently to himself.

A fine name for a noble.

Dragging his gaze away from his newly discovered family, his eyes wandered around the room. The place was far from pristine. Damage was evident everywhere—furniture splintered, walls cracked, and ceilings faded with neglect. It was nothing like the grandeur he would have expected of a noble's home.

So it's like this, he thought.

His eyes returned to his mother. Her expression remained bright, unshaken, even tinged with pride. In this moment, at least, she didn't seem to care about the state of their surroundings.

A small smile tugged at his lips, unbidden, as a feeling of compassion swelled within him.

So, you're humble too, huh?

A soft laugh escaped his mouth.

It was really just a small sound, nothing too fancy.

But to his mother, hearing her own child laugh sent shivers of joy down her spine. Her face lit up, and she began to laugh too, though hers was much longer, ringing warmly through the room. She hugged him even tighter, her enthusiasm nearly making him choke—not that she noticed.

"You're just the sweetest, Lorien! Even when you laugh, you remind me so much of your late father!" she cooed. Her tone was filled with warmth, but her words lingered in his mind.

Late? he thought, his heart sinking. Does that mean...?

Her expression faltered for a moment, a crack appearing in her radiant smile. His suspicions were confirmed as her eyes dimmed with a sorrow long buried, now stirred by the mention of her husband. She continued, her voice quieter, her frown deepening as the faint shadow of grief surfaced.

"But don't worry! I promise I will never leave you," she said, her tone soft but strained. She quickly wiped away the tear forming in the corner of her eye and hugged him again. This time, her embrace was more fragile, her gaze drifting somewhere far away, lost in memory.

He didn't know how to react. He'd never known that father, so he couldn't share her sadness. And yet, seeing her like this, her sorrow etched so plainly across her face, made his heart ache.

Don't be sad, Mother. Please, don't be!

The thought, simple and instinctive, formed naturally in his mind. Almost without realizing, his tiny hand rose to her chin. Barely touching it, she flinched at first but quickly relaxed, her body softening as the tension eased from her embrace.

For a brief moment, the world stood still. She held him close, and he returned the gesture as best he could. It was a feeling so comforting that he wished time itself would freeze. But reality had other plans.

The heavy, wooden door to the room swung open with a single creak. A trio of maids entered, dressed in simple work attire. He noticed how at ease they seemed, even in the presence of nobility. Each wore a gentle smile, their eyes brimming with compassion, seemingly for both of them.

Strange.

He made a mental note. In the kingdoms of his past life, servants were trained to suppress all emotion around their masters. Stoicism was expected, even demanded. He recalled one moment in the capital when a servant beside her noble master had locked eyes with him. Her gaze had been empty, cold, and mechanical. It had unsettled him deeply.

But these maids…

"Ah, Katerina, I'm sorry—I lost track of the time," his mother said, a hint of apology in her voice.

The leading maid, Katerina, simply shook her head, her warm smile unwavering as she glanced from his mother to him.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Velmont," she chuckled lightly, her tone gentle. Her gaze lingered on the baby in her arms. "I can hardly blame you for being distracted with family stuff. The food is still warm; there's no need to rush."

The other maids exchanged understanding looks, their expressions soft.

"No; let's not waste your hard work," his mother replied, a grateful smile spreading across her face. She rose from the chair, moving toward the crib standing at the edge of the room. Carefully, she placed him inside. The soft cushions beneath him made his tiny body tumble slightly, and a sudden wave of tiredness began creeping over him.

Not now, damn body, not now! He fought against the drowsiness with all his might, desperate to stay awake. But his new form betrayed him, and the fight was futile.

The final blow came in the form of a kiss on his forehead.

It shattered what little resistance he had left. The warm gesture overwhelmed him, and his eyes fluttered shut, his body succumbing to the weight of sleep.

"Good night, darling," she whispered, her voice a tender lullaby to his fading consciousness.

As he drifted off, he caught the faintest glimpse of her moving toward the door, her voice soft as she exchanged quiet words with the maids. Together, they slipped out, leaving the room cloaked in silence.