Soon, my consciousness faded away, the overwhelming grief too much for me to bear. When I woke up again, I was back as Lior, in my own body. But even in the safety of my familiar surroundings, I could still feel the tears clinging to my eyes. There was an emptiness inside me, a deep, never-ending void that seemed to swallow everything else. It felt like the entire joy of my life had disappeared with Orpheus, and the thought that I would never see him again—never hear his voice, never feel his presence—was too painful to accept.
The loss weighed on me like a stone, heavy and suffocating. The ache in my chest refused to fade, and the more I thought about it, the more it hurt. The feeling was unbearable, and I couldn't stop myself from crying. I cried as much as I could, hoping that somehow the tears would wash away the pain. But even when my mother came in, worried, and tried to console me, the grief clung to me like a shadow.
Of course, I couldn't tell her what was really going on. How could I explain that I had spent decades living a second life as someone else, that I had grown to love and care for a person who wasn't supposed to be part of my world? How could I tell her that Orpheus—the person who had become like family to me—was gone, leaving me with this unbearable sense of loss?
Instead, I asked her a question that had been gnawing at me since Orpheus's death. "What is the importance of life?" I whispered, my voice shaky. "Why does it have to end? And if it has to end... why does it start?"
My mother remained quiet for a while, probably wondering what had brought on such deep questions. I could see the worry in her eyes. She likely thought I had a bad nightmare, something that had shaken me more than usual. After all, I hardly ever cried, but now I was an emotional wreck, unable to stop the tears that kept coming.
Without saying a word, she pulled me into a hug, her warmth and comfort wrapping around me like a blanket. But even her embrace couldn't lift the weight off my heart. She didn't have any answers for me—at least, not ones that could take away the pain. Instead, she did what she could. She brought me my favorite food, some ice cream, as if that might cheer me up, but nothing worked.
No matter how much I wanted to feel better, my mood wouldn't change. The sadness clung to me, and I couldn't shake it off. I remained gloomy throughout the day, unable to break free from the heavy cloud that hung over me.
I missed him so much. Orpheus. It felt like a piece of my soul had been ripped away, and I didn't know how to live without him.
I spent the entire day wishing that night wouldn't come, but of course, the laws of nature can't change for my sake, can they? Night eventually arrived, creeping in no matter how much I dreaded it. I tried my best to stay awake, faking sleep so my parents wouldn't worry. My fear of not seeing Orpheus again gnawed at me. What if I slept and he wasn't there anymore?
But no matter how hard I tried to fight it, fatigue won. My eyelids grew heavy, and before I knew it, I drifted into sleep.
And what happened next... was unexpected.
The room was warm, the sky outside a soft, peaceful blue. I was lying on a bed, still dazed from the shock of waking up. Then, he opened his eyes—*Orpheus*! He was alive!
My heart leaped, and I was so overwhelmed with joy that I wanted to scream, cry, and laugh all at once. Orpheus was alive! I was practically jumping with excitement, even though I was still trapped inside his body. My soul was practically doing backflips—*he's alive, he's alive!*
But like all good things, my happiness had to end. And boy, did it end quickly.
I looked closer, and my joy shattered into a million pieces. Orpheus wasn't just alive... *he was a baby*. A baby Orpheus! No, no, no! This can't be happening. I like him, sure, but I didn't sign up for a full reboot of his life.
I screamed internally, "*Nooooo!*" I didn't want to live through his gloomy childhood *again*! I had seen enough of his brooding teenage years, his moody, dramatic days where he thought the world was out to get him. Now I had to do it all over?
"*Let him die! Please!*" I was shouting inside my head. I was practically begging the universe to give me a break. "I can't spend all that time watching his gloomy, sulky self grow up *again!*"
And thus, my short-lived happiness came crashing down, faster than I could say, "Not this *again*..."
Some years later ( just two)
I had no clue what crime I had committed or why the universe was treating me like this. Two years had passed in my life as Lior, and I was a *four-year-old* boy. But here's the kicker: this *four-year-old* had lived through Orpheus's life four times by now—each time in a completely different version of his life.
Four completely different lives, and I had to experience every single one. And let me tell you, this shit was exhausting.
Each life had its own brand of misery and madness. I'd hoped that, maybe, just maybe, the fourth time would be different. But no, the universe had decided that I was the cosmic joke, the punching bag of fate. I was stuck in this ridiculous loop, constantly facing a new and unique version of Orpheus's life, and every single one was just as much of a headache as the last.
I was ready to lose my mind. "What the hell did I do to deserve this?" I shouted internally. "Did I mess with some ancient curse? Did I annoy a pissed-off deity?"
I wanted to scream. "Give me a fucking break, universe! I've had enough of this crap! How many more lives do I have to suffer through before you cut me some slack?"
I was beyond done with this cosmic prank. I needed a break—no, I needed a vacation from Orpheus's endless cycle of bizarre and complicated lives.
Alright, enough of the cosmic whining. Let's get back to life as Lior. The past two years have been a pretty routine ride. I wake up in the morning, and my mother hands me breakfast like it's the most normal thing in the world. Then, I tag along to the market with her, and she heads off to work.
Meanwhile, my dad's at home, trying to teach me Noor tricks. The guy's got no idea how much I already know. I mean, I've lived through Orpheus's life four freaking times—every time with different powers, swordsmanship, archery, and a whole lot more. I'm basically an ancient magical badass in a toddler's body.
So, I have to act like a total newbie every time he tries to show me some basic tricks. It's like pretending to be a bumbling idiot when I've got the skills of a seasoned pro. No matter how hard I try to keep my act together, a little bit of my expertise sneaks out here and there.
Every time this happens, my father's eyes go wide, and he starts babbling about how I'm a world-class prodigy and beyond his teaching level. I'm just standing there, trying not to crack up. It's like, "Dad, you have no idea. I've been a master of this shit since before you even had a beard!"
And it's all good fun until he starts boasting about my supposed 'talent' to anyone who'll listen. At this point, I'm just rolling my eyes and waiting for the day when I can finally tell him, "Hey, Dad, maybe it's time to admit that I'm just a little bit more experienced than you think."
So there I was, sitting at the table, watching my parents have a serious conversation that looked like it could end with either world peace or the end of the world—either way, it was intense.
My mother, with her 'we-need-to-talk' face on, finally said, "I think it's time."
My father, equally grim, replied, "Yes, I think it is."
Their serious expressions could've used a dramatic soundtrack. They called me over, and I braced myself for whatever bombshell was about to drop.
"Come here, my dear son," my father began. "I think it's time for you to learn from a professional. Your mother and I are going to the capital, where we'll find a professional teacher for you until you're old enough to join the academy."
I didn't even try to hide my excitement. "Yay! Finally, we're going to the capital!" I practically bounced off my seat.
"Yes, Father, it will be so much fun!" I added, trying to keep my enthusiasm under control. I mean, who wouldn't be thrilled about getting out of the boring old routine and into a bustling city with new opportunities?
So, the very next day, after packing up what felt like our entire house into a ridiculous amount of luggage, we were all set to head to the capital.
I was practically dancing around, thinking, "Hell yes! Bring on the big city! Goodbye, boring old routines, and hello, new adventures!"
Of course, my parents were too busy with their serious faces and probably plotting how to keep me out of trouble to notice my excitement. But I didn't care. I was ready to see what the capital had in store and, hopefully, get a break from pretending to be a clueless newbie.
The car we were traveling in looked like it was straight out of an ancient fairytale, but it was our ride to the capital. The journey began with everything calm and picturesque. The scenery was beautiful, and I was buzzing with excitement about the start of my new life. My parents, now sporting genuine smiles, seemed as thrilled as I was. It felt like we were all ready to dive into this new adventure together.
As our old-timey car trundled slowly down the wide, open road, I thought to myself, "This is it. The beginning of something great!"
But, of course, the universe had to pull one of its classic moves. Out of nowhere, there was a deafening boom and a massive explosion. The car jolted violently, and within moments, a gas leak filled the air with a thick, choking haze.
Before I could even react, everything went black, and I became unconscious. The peaceful journey had turned into an unexpected nightmare, and I was left wondering, "Seriously, universe? What the hell?"
When I finally came to, I realized I was tied to a chair in a dark room. The darkness was so thick it felt like it could smother me. My heart was racing, and the last thing I remembered was the explosion, so I had no idea how I ended up here.
I squinted around, trying to make out any details, but it was pitch black. The only sounds were my own breathing and the faint rustling of something nearby. I tried to wriggle free from the ropes binding me, but they were tight and unyielding.
Great, just great. Of course, I had to get kidnapped on what was supposed to be the start of my big adventure. I cursed under my breath, "What the actual fuck is this? Can't a kid catch a break?"
I tried to think back to what happened after the explosion. There must have been people involved, and probably not the friendly kind. My mind raced through possibilities—robbers, villains, some crazy people who wanted to use me as bait for a grand scheme.
But I had to keep my cool. Panicking wouldn't help. I needed to figure out what was going on and, more importantly, how to get out of this mess.
There was a man standing in front of me, his silhouette barely visible in the dim light. I could've easily used my powers to get out of the chair, but I had to consider my parents. They might be in danger too, and I didn't want to do anything rash that could make things worse.
So, I decided to keep my mouth shut and play the part of the innocent, captive kid. I wasn't in the mood for any unnecessary drama or making things more complicated. Instead, I was going to listen to whatever crap they had to say and figure out my next move from there.
The guy in front of me looked like he was about to start talking, so I steeled myself for whatever bullshit was coming my way. With a silent, determined resolve, I sat tight and prepared to hear their plan—no matter how absurd it might be.
The man asked, "Do you love your parents?"
I couldn't help it—I burst into laughter. "Who doesn't, dumbass?" I said, shaking my head. It was a mix of disbelief and amusement at how absurd the question was. "Seriously, did you just ask me that? Like, what kind of idiot thinks a kid wouldn't love their parents?"
The man's eyes flickered with something dark when he said, "Oh, so it's very beneficial for us. Do you want them to be alive?"
The moment those words hit my ears, my amusement vanished. A deadly seriousness took over. I could feel a dangerous aura radiating from me as my focus narrowed. "What have you done to them?" I demanded, my voice cold and unwavering. "If they've even got a single scratch, you're going to regret it. I swear, you'll wish you'd never crossed my path."
The man smirked and said, "Oh no, baby boy, I haven't even touched them."