The Reborn Knight: Flames of Destiny

The day I died was the day my new life began.

One moment, there was only darkness—cold, suffocating, endless. Then, a sharp gasp tore from my lips as my body jerked awake.

I lay sprawled on smooth marble, its icy surface pressing against my skin. Above me, towering stone columns stretched toward a vaulted ceiling, flickering torches casting restless shadows along the walls. The scent of burning wax and aged parchment clung to the air, mingled with something metallic—blood?

My head throbbed. My limbs felt weak, sluggish, as if I had been submerged in water for days.

Where… am I?

I sat up, every muscle in my body protesting. My last memory was the blinding headlights of a truck, the screech of tires on wet asphalt—then impact. My breath hitched as the echo of that moment crashed into me. The sheer force. The pain. And then—nothing.

I should be dead.

Before I could make sense of my surroundings, the heavy thud of boots echoed beyond the massive oak doors ahead.

Someone's coming.

A bolt of panic shot through me. My instincts screamed at me to move, but my legs refused to obey. The doors groaned open, revealing three armored men who stormed into the hall.

The second their eyes landed on me, they froze.

"He's awake," one of them whispered, his voice tight with disbelief. Then, louder: "Fetch the captain!"

His comrades hesitated only a moment before their hands shot to their weapons.

My pulse spiked. Shit.

"I—I don't want any trouble!" I forced the words out, my voice hoarse and unfamiliar.

They didn't lower their swords.

Pain lanced through my skull.

I collapsed, gripping my head as memories that weren't mine flooded in.

A grand hall bathed in sunlight. A child's laughter. The sting of a wooden sword against my wrist. The cold gaze of a king. The whisper of betrayal beneath a blood-red sky.

And a name—my name.

Arin.

The knowledge slammed into me, overwhelming and undeniable. I wasn't just anyone. I was Prince Arin, the long-lost heir of this castle. The memories weren't mine, yet they burned within me, a past I had never lived but now belonged to.

I barely had time to process it before rough hands seized my arms. Cold steel pressed against my throat.

"Seize him!"

My body moved before my mind caught up. A violent heat surged through my veins. Fire—real, raw fire—crackled at my fingertips.

The guards hesitated, their grips faltering as golden embers flickered around my hands.

I didn't think. I acted.

With a desperate surge of strength, I wrenched free, shoving them backward.

"You there! Halt!"

A sharp, commanding voice cut through the chaos.

I turned, breath heaving.

A woman stood in the doorway—tall, armored, her crimson cape flowing behind her. A captain. But her expression wasn't just shock. It was something else.

"Prince Arin?" she whispered, as if daring to believe it.

The name coiled around me like a chain, heavy with meaning.

I had no time to question it.

My gaze flicked to the stained-glass window beside me—a phoenix rising in flames.

A stupid idea formed.

I ran.

And with a single, desperate breath, I hurled myself through the glass.

The world shattered around me.

For one weightless second, I was suspended in the moonlit air.

Then, I fell.