Nine Thousand, Nine hundred and ninety nine years
Lyle's heart was consumed with grief and guilt, even as Zamir whisked his soul into this life. He could not wait to wake up and grow up, even if he could not control his body, surely he would hear news about the Legacy disciple of the White Peak Sect. He wanted to know how Raizel was doing, he wanted to take his lover in his arms and wipe his tears.
When Lyle opened his eyes, what he saw was a grey, ashen sky. The gray sky was like a piece of cloth. It was filled with wrinkles and spread right to the end of his sight. There was no sun, no moon, and no stars. Its color exuded a feeling of depression and an air of death, it made people feel as if they were lost in that grey shade.
It was at this moment that Lyle noticed something was truly wrong. Unlike other lives, there was no heat in his body, no mother coocing at him. He looked down. A sapling. In this life, he became a tree.