Markess.

The ceiling now a deep blue or perhaps light green, this deja vu feeling is getting out of hand. 

The roof seemed to wave and wobble, its blue and green grandness turned into a sea of color, waving in and out pushing past each other, as if to move the ceiling. Each color turns to the other, each movement hushes the last, the waves crash against each other forming teal, this new wave of teal devours the others spreading its corruptive disease, the room's splendor slowly turns into consistent teal. There was nothing to it now, the world was just that, the "world" nice and relatable, nice and bland. The remembrance of this beautiful sight vanished, with the sound of an unfamiliar voice.

"Raphael?" The old man asked in an old weathered tone.

"Raphael?" I asked.

The old man's face stiffens.

"Nevermind that, I'm Markess, no, sorry these memories are jumbled in my head, my name is Grant, Grant Baker if I'm remembering this right."

"Remember?" I ask.

"Oh yes, I recently awakened, and as you can tell my head is a little crooked." He said in a up right tone, that sounded almost young, completely contrasting his old withered face.

"No that's not right, for one's first awakening you only get a small memory, kind of plastered on to your mind not well mixing with it, which means you have had your second awakening."

I have researched this subject vigorously in order to somehow beat Lazaros. 

"Sorry, but this is the first…" He stuttered off mid sentence, his eyes chased around the room as if to catch something. "Time," he continues as if he never stopped, "awakening."

Awakening work's in stages, in stage one, one glimpses the other world, in stage two, one's mind starts to become one with the memories, this happens when someone comes close to reaching the same power as the one from the memories. Stage three, is when one's memories overlap and become whole, NOTE this doesn't usually cause the sane to lose themselves only adds some memories that they wouldn't normally have, this happens when you reach the same level as the one's who's memories you've received. To my knowledge no one knows if it's some kind of past life, or something else. 

His eyes grabbed on to something, settling on the window, however it didn't appear he was looking out the window, but to some far off land. His lips twitched, his eyes flickered. With in those dead green eyes crimson serges followed, painting them. His brows arched, his nose buckled. Feary, painfully flushes his being, rage pushes past his will into his rugged breathing. A fragment of his magic power bursts out, his hair flys, the room echoes his fury, the blankets slam against the wall, I fall with them. 

"Achra monoka tong cha." Magic grew in his hand, fire circles around itself, the bewitching sphere of burning fire, its glory surpasses the divine. Its power threatens to burn my hair, its fury wishes to devour the world whole, its demanding prowess pushes to shoot out of Grant's control, however it charges, it grows. " Die 'chra ony' you demon bastard." 

The magic darts faster then a bullet, pushes faster than sound, its mere shock-wave flattens small trees, it smashes deep into a gigantic border, the magic with no restaurants left to hold it together explodes sending shards of stone in every direction, its blast shook the whole house its foundations desired to fall from its frame. Where the border was, only ash remains. 

"Grant," I hesitate, "are you okay?"

"You, how did you get here?" Markess paused. "The demon king is dead, its done, if you've come to help then you're too late." He starts to cry, or more accurately sob. "It's done." He laughed. "My friends are dead, the expedition squad is dead, there no more. I'm the last, wouldn't the king get a kick out of this his slaves, his measly soldiers, accomplished something his knights couldn't. Here I stand the grand mage known for my over willming fire, the scarlet/ crimson mage, not even an arc-mage, no me a grand mage, I killed the demon king. Markess hammer, king of fire, lord of crimson, may my name be put in history, may my grandness live forever, may my, my comrades be put in front of my legacy those who killed the demon king. You boy, spread the name of the iron company, we who stand stronger than iron, harder than steel, and sharper than obsidian. The grand Iron company, the one that I may not be worthy, that I may not deserve, I shall rebuild it no matter what."