I relived my death and all of the events leading up to it, my killer’s mocking laughter ringing through my head as I returned to the present.

“Enough, send me back.”

“Hurrying to your death. You must experience the past before you can face the future."

“No, I've tried everything. He just ignores me.”

“So you think yourself unreasonable?”

“What? No-”

“Are you scared you may succeed?"

"What are you saying?"

"That you won’t die?”

“I...”

“That you won’t be reborn?”

“...I don’t know.”

He smiled. “Then it’s time you learn.”

With that, I once again closed my eyes as I was pulled back to my former life, my memories splitting to create two distinct egos; one Kane, the other Zephyr.

But first we must see the beginning.

* * * * *

My footsteps resonated through the oppressive darkness, breaking its silence. The sun barely pierced the thick grey clouds that had cast the city in a perpetual night.

I strolled along the worn stone street, feeling the numerous gazes of shadowy figures nearby directed at me. Some of the figures huddled beneath tattered blankets, seeking refuge from the cold, while others loitered on their doorsteps, watching me warily. As I walked, their eyes locked onto me in fearful recognition. Only once I passed did they begin to relax.

The dregs of society gathered here due to the absence of guards. They inhabited the rows of dilapidated wooden shacks and lined the intersecting streets. As I moved closer to the castle, the crowd thinned, their figures swallowed by an eerie fog that clung to the castle’s base. The air grew colder and the fog thicker, forcing me to draw on my ether. 

I let the warm and golden energy surge through me before focusing it into my eyes, enhancing my vision to pierce through the gloom ahead. As my vision was enhanced, the outline of the peasants huddled miserably on the streets became clearer, their eyes vacant as they stared into the fog, yearning for a break in their monochromatic existence. 

Pathetic. 

Their dreams of friends, love, money, and fame had turned them into husks. They chased ideals that didn’t exist, thinking they would be different from the countless failures that came before them. I had wished for these things once, as a child, but quickly learned that such desires were only lies deeply ingrained in society.

They were blind to the truth, and consequently, ended up like this—broken. 

When I first managed to control my ether, what I felt changed my ideals forever. Happiness, love, hope—no other fleeting desire could compare to it. The sensation of power.

I raised a hand to my solar plexus, placed it over my core and mentally traced the flow of ethereal, golden energy as it coursed through my body. For a moment I stood there, savouring the sensation, before I removed my hand and continued onwards.

The fog thickened as I neared the castle; an imposing fortress of rock and mortar that towered over the surrounding buildings. Two armoured guards stood at its gate. They snapped to attention when they saw me and removed their helmets as a sign of respect.

“Lord Zephyr,” the older of the two guards stepped forward, bowing slightly. I had no last name, so I was simply addressed by my first. “His Highness has requested an audience.”

He sported a well-trimmed beard and dark brown hair, with a stocky, muscular build. The stress lines etched on his face and the occasional wisps of grey hair portrayed him as a veteran, likely having fought in many of the same wars I had. The second guard, a teenager, paled in comparison. His unruly black hair partially covered his eyes, accentuating the despondent look on his face. Judging by his scrawny frame and hunched posture, he was just a recruit who had not yet undergone training.

“In a moment,” I replied, waving them off.

The recruit gave a worried look to the veteran who spoke again. “His Highness requested your immediate presence. My deepest apologies, Your Grace, but you must-”

A momentary flare of my aura cut him off mid-sentence. Aura was an external application of ether, one that manifested an invisible, oppressive force. “I wish to change into something more comfortable. Will this be a problem?” 

“N-no, Your Grace,” he stammered.

Half an hour later I had changed into casual clothing, and the guards were leading me through the castle corridors towards the throne room. 

Our footsteps echoed through the stone walkway as we travelled in silence. The fortified hallways were occasionally broken by wooden doors and arched windows that offered an overhead view of the dilapidated city. Colourful tapestries and taxidermized animal heads embellished the walls between unlit braziers.

Normally, the halls were filled with people, but today they were strangely empty. I came to a halt, the guards quickly stopping ahead of me.

“Lord Zephyr, is something the matter?” The veteran inquired. 

The entrance to the throne room lay at the end of the hall, yet we hadn’t encountered anyone since entering the castle. “Tell me,” I said, drumming my fingers on the hilt of my sword. “Did the King specify why I’m being summoned?”

The veteran soldier frowned. “He wishes to reward you for your valiant efforts in battle, Your Grace.”

I grinned. “If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable.” Stepping closer, I flared my aura. They both tensed in response, their hands darting to the swords sheathed at their waists but not yet daring to draw them.

There was nothing the King could give me that I didn’t already have. Deemed as not only his strongest warrior, but the strongest in the world, my role was to win wars and suppress rebellions. In return, I was exempt from his laws and enjoyed wealth, authority and prestige equal to the crown.

With a mischievous grin, I strolled toward the petrified guards until I stood between them. I waited for a moment, allowing them to make the first move, however they kept their gazes stubbornly on the far wall as if engaged in a silent staring contest with it. "A trap only works if the prey is unaware of its existence.”

The recruit’s eyes widened, drawing his sword in a panic. I swiftly formed a razor-sharp blade of golden light around my hand and plunged it into the boy’s chest. The ether ripped cleanly through armour, flesh, muscle and bone. The veteran drew his sword as I moved, but I kicked him into the wall before he could react, forming a crater in its stone surface. Only then did I pull my hand from the recruit’s chest and dispel the ether. He collapsed to the floor, blood gushing from his mouth and the gaping hole in his torso. Shifting my focus to the veteran, I sensed the ether coursing through his body.

“Your control is abysmal,” I remarked, drawing my sword. Despite attempting to fortify his body, he hadn’t been strong enough to properly mitigate the damage.

The veteran pushed himself off the crumbling wall and aimed a powerful side-swing at me. I anticipated his attack, channelling ether to enhance my strength, speed and cognitive abilities to an inhuman level, before closing the distance between us. Seizing the hilt of his sword, I halted the strike and crushed his hand. Slashing upwards, I severed his arm at the shoulder and stained the wall scarlet.

Surprisingly, it only took a moment for him to regain his composure, launching a sidekick at me. Catching it with my free hand I mercilessly slashed downwards, one fluid motion that cut off his leg at the thigh. The wounded veteran collapsed to the ground beside his trainee, blood seeping into the stone floor as he screamed in pain. After wiping the blood from my blade I returned it to its sheath and observed the veteran as he struggled on the floor. Despite his injuries, he mustered enough strength to crawl towards me. A trembling hand weakly clutched my ankle.

“You… heartless… bastard,” he managed to say through strained breaths.

“Pathetic,” I pulled my leg free before stomping his head in with a wet crunch.