I awoke in a forest.
The wind blew gentle, lazy spirals of golden leaves through the air. Birds—not just your average birds, but ones with long iridescent tails and multicolored feathers—danced between the branches, singing tunes that felt half-remembered and oddly... nostalgic.
The air was crisp. Damp with dew. The scent of rain still lingered, though the clouds had long moved on.
And most importantly, I was still alive. I think.
But not myself.
I looked down. The armor I wore was battered—medieval, not military. My shield, splintered and riddled with arrows. My sword, snapped in half like some child's toy. And worse—my body…
Blood. Everywhere. My tunic soaked with it, the ground beneath me sticky and black. I tried to move and—
stab
Pain. Not just pain—something wrong. Deep. Like something vital was unraveling. The arrows weren't just stuck in the armor. One was buried deep in my chest.
"Hi there, buddy."
I jerked my head up, sucking in air—but it caught, halfway down.
Floating nearby was a young man, maybe twenty. He wore glasses, his long hair tied into a loose braid. But the part that struck me the most—he was translucent. A pale, glowing green, gently shifting like a candle behind tinted glass.
A ghost.
"Sorry for the mess," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Had to flee the battle, but it looks like I wasn't fast enough. Got hit by some arrows and a soul displacer bolt." His voice cracked at the word displacer. "Stupid thing scrambled my spirit."
He shook his head.
"It seems… in my attempt to pass on, your soul managed to slip into my body. So… now I'm stuck to it. While you're… driving it."
He started nervously twiddling his thumbs, floating just above a rock.
"So… what are you planning to do now?" he asked, hesitant. "I mean, uh… now that you're me. Sort of."
I tried to speak.
"Wh-who… who are you…? Wh-…"
My words caught.
My throat spasmed. I coughed once. Then again—harder. Something wet and sharp came with it. I glanced down and saw a thick glob of blood splatter across my gauntlet.
My vision doubled.
My lungs burned like they were full of smoke and splinters.
"A-Adam! Hey! Don't—don't move! You're punctured!" the ghost cried, drifting forward. "Gods, you've got two arrows still in you!"
I tried to get a breath, but it came out as a horrible choking rasp. My mouth was filling with blood. My heart thudded against the shaft of an arrow like it was trying to break free.
"This isn't my body…" I managed to gurgle, eyes wide.
The ghost hovered close, panic etched across his spectral face.
"I—I know, I'm sorry! This wasn't supposed to happen! I just—I thought I was done for and tried to pass on and something pulled you through!"
I fell to one side. My busted armor screeched against a rock. My shield cracked as it hit the ground. The forest swirled around me.
"I… I'm Adam…"
"You're me now," the ghost whispered. "And if we don't fix this body soon… we'll both be dead."
I don't remember passing out.
Only warmth.
Like fire in my chest. Not burning—restoring. Filling in the cracks of me, knitting muscle, easing the cold in my lungs.
Voices echoed in the dark.
A chant. Gentle. Steady.
Then silence.
One day later…
Sunlight filtered through the canopy above, splashing golden warmth across my face. Birds chirped, and the wind moved like breath through the leaves.
I opened my eyes slowly. I didn't feel like dying anymore. My chest ached, sure—but it was dull. Manageable. I touched my torso, and though the armor was still cracked, the skin underneath was smooth. Pink, but whole.
"Morning, sleepyhead."
I turned my head.
The ghost floated nearby, legs crossed, leaning against a tree despite not actually touching it.
He grinned sheepishly. "You were out a while. A whole day, actually. I was worried you'd, uh, unbind yourself. Which would've been bad for both of us."
"What… what did you do?"
He shrugged. "Magic. Or what little of it I've got left."
He floated upright, adjusting his glasses, which weren't even real. A habit, probably.
"Turns out... I can still channel my soul threads into the body—you, now. I can't cast spells like I used to—no fireballs, no fancy enchantments—but I can amplify. Buff you. Heal you. Enhance what you do."
He floated closer, serious now.
"You've got... these veins. Not just blood, but magic veins. Pulsing through your new body like silver roots. You're what we used to call Veinborn. Especially rare among elves."
"Elves…?" I muttered, finally sitting up.
He nodded. "You didn't notice the ears?"
I reached up. My fingertips brushed pointed tips. Long. Elegant.
"Elven bloodline," he continued. "And a strong one. They say when Veinborn elves are born under a red moon, their souls are already half-tuned to the weave. That means you can learn magic—not just hold it. And not just basic stuff either. You're made for it."
I looked at my hands. Pale. Slim. Not my hands.
"This really… isn't my body."
"Nope. Mine. Well, was mine. Sorry again about that. Still feels weird watching someone else blink with my eyes."
He hesitated.
"I should introduce myself. Name's Kaelen Virren. Former Battlemage of the Third Wind Legion, once a proud citizen of Dragon Wing."
"Dragon Wing?" I echoed.
Kaelen nodded. "We're in the kingdom of Dragon Wing. One of the fractured nations left after the Rift Wars. This forest is on the outer edge of its eastern border—close to the Exiled Wastes, which is probably why we got ambushed."
I looked at the cracked blade beside me. The broken shield. The ruined battlefield.
"…Ambushed?"
Kaelen floated downward, hovering just inches above the grass.
"We were trying to hold this stretch against raiders coming in from the Wastes. I stayed behind to cover the retreat. Got shot. And then… well. You."
I swallowed. "Why me? Why would I end up here?"
Kaelen shook his head. "No idea. Something pulled your soul through. Some force—like a ripple between worlds. Normally that's not how displacer bolts work. But something else happened."
I looked up at the forest canopy, at the drifting sunbeams dancing through the leaves.
"Guess I'm stuck here, huh?"
"For now," Kaelen said. "But stuck isn't dead. And if I can keep healing you, and you learn to use what this body can really do… you might not just survive here."
He grinned.
"You might thrive."