Killian Bloodgrave

I'm .. still alive?

Nathan's eyes fluttered open, and the soft glow of the morning light filtered through the curtains. Blinking against the brightness, he slowly sat up in bed, the familiar heaviness in his limbs feeling oddly distant. Confusion clouded his thoughts as he took in the sight of his own hands, pale but undeniably real.

His mind raced back to the hospital scenes—sterile rooms, doctors' faces, and sympathetic nods. He remembered feeling a deep sense of fear and acceptance, certain that his battle with cancer was nearing its end.

However there he was, still alive and kicking. 

Where even am I?

He reached a hand to his chest, noticing the absence of different machines which were usually strapped to his chest. 

In fact there was no medical equipment anywhere near him.

Nathan scanned his surroundings, the white walls of the hospital ward now replaced with a room that resembled a medieval setting.

Am I drugged? I-Is it the effect of some medicines?

He knew that he hadn't fully healed; a dull ache persisted near his heart

"Anyone out there?" Nathan called out, realizing that even his voice sounded different than usual.

He ran a hand through his hair, which felt fuller than he remembered, lacking the telltale thinness he associated with chemotherapy.

At that moment there was a gentle knock on the door.

"Do you need anything Master Killian?"

Killian? Who?

Nathan swung his legs over the edge of the bed and pushed himself up, expecting to touch the floor as usual. However, when his feet made contact, he felt a startling sensation—was the ground farther away than before? It was as if he had grown more than a foot overnight.

He stumbled forward, off-balance, and hurried to the nearby mirror. As he gazed into the reflective surface, his heart skipped a beat. The person staring back at him was not the Nathan he knew.

A taller figure with unfamiliar features looked back at him, a jarring disconnect between the image and his sense of self. The individual in the mirror seemed younger, resembling a teenager than an adult. The facial features resembled that of a superstar, with the white hair providing a beautiful contrast to his blood-red eyes.

The only resembling feature which Nathan could relate to was the pale white skin, which was a result of his terminal illness.

"This can't be..." Nathan whispered, reaching up to touch his face, half-expecting the reflection to mimic his movements.

His mind raced, trying to make sense of the impossible. Had he somehow entered another person's body? Was this a dream? Panic threatened to overwhelm him, but he forced himself to take slow, deep breaths, trying to anchor himself in this bewildering reality.

As Nathan continued to stare into the mirror, a sense of urgency grew within him. He needed answers, and he needed them fast.

What do I do? A-am I Killian now? No, that can't be! I am Nathan. I have to get better, and help out my sister get to college! And mom! She needs to retire and rest at home!

Realizing that the situation was not under his control, he began taking deep breaths, a familiar routine to calm his nerves. It was a technique he had relied on when first diagnosed with cancer, and more recently, when doctors delivered the grim prognosis of his imminent death.

"I was supposed to be dead. And yet, here I am, inhabiting the body of a teenager," he muttered, his fingers gently tracing the contours of the unfamiliar face in the mirror, confirming the surreal truth of his situation.

Just then, there was another knock on the door, breaking Nathan's train of thoughts causing him to stand upright with a jolt.

"Is everything alright Master Killian?"

Nathan spun around and hastily scrambled back onto the bed, pulling the satin blanket over his entire body except for his face.

"You can come in," he called out, his voice trembling as he peeked towards the door not knowing who or what might enter.

The door flung open, and contrary to Nathan's wild imagination, a handsome middle aged man walked through it with a couple of trays in his hand.

The man had a lean build with a straight back posture. His silver-gray hair were neatly combed back which suited his overall attire of a crisply pressed suit.

"Good morning master Killian," the man said with a gentle smile on his face. He proceeded to pick up the dishes from the trays and carefully arranged them on the bed for Nathan to eat.

"M-morning George" Nathan blurted out inadvertently.

George? Why the fuck did I call him that?

Just then, memories foreign to Nathan started flooding into his mind. 

The man before him was George, the butler tasked by the family's patriarch to look after Killian.

In fact he was the one who took care of Killian's every need after his mother passed away.

"How are you feeling today Master Killian?" the butler asked again. This time he started moving around the room and started tidying it.

"Y-you can drop the master. Just Killian is fine" Nathan replied.

"Master Killian, you don't have to think about what the kids from other families said to you the other day" George said. 

What did they say? Nathan tried to recollect, however his memories were still a bit fuzzy.

He was amazed to see George clean the large room in a matter of minutes, moving with a speed that seemed almost supernatural.

Just then, George snapped his fingers, and the kerosene lamp sitting on the desk next to Nathan illuminated with a soft glow.

Magic?

However, just before he could think any further, George appeared right next to him.

"Yes?" Nathan muttered nervously, quickly shifting to the corner of the bed to put some distance between himself and the butler.

"Stay still," George said with a serious tone, slowly moving his hand towards Nathan.

Nathan braced himself, convinced that George had seen through his disguise. But instead, George simply reached out and lightly touched his chest, his expression unreadable.

"Please don't try to kill yourself again" George muttered, his voice conveying a mixture of sorrow and concern. He carefully pulled down Nathan's shirt, revealing a stab wound near his heart.

What the-

Nathan was shocked to see the deep wounds on his chest. It seemed evident that they were self-inflicted, as if someone had made several attempts to stab their own heart but lacked the strength to do so effectively.

Did the real Killian try to kill himself? Why?

Nathan scrambled through his memories, clutching his head in frustration.

"I can't remember," he muttered, turning his head to face George.

Memory loss? That's such a lame excuse. Good going Nathan! No way in hell is he going to-

"I understand Master Killian," George replied, the soft smile on his face returning.

The butler got up and took one final glance at Nathan, before leaving the room.

"Well that was easy" Nathan thought as he sat back again, focussing his attention on the various assortment of dishes lined up in front of him. 

Even though he had bigger issues, the aroma alone was enough to make Nathan salivate. 

As a cancer patient, he had always adhered to a strict diet, which meant forgoing anything fried or unhealthy.

He picked up what looked like a piece of fried chicken and promptly popped it into his mouth. Feasting on the food, he cherished every flavorful bite, savoring the taste he had long missed.

[ You have consumed food imbued with mana. Your health is regenerating faster than usual ]

"Huh?!!"

A video game-like screen floated in front of Nathan, displaying strange stats and symbols.

"What is this?" he muttered, waving his hand through the air, only to find that it passed through the screen as if it were not there.

Nathan took another glance at the screen, this time reading the contents in detail.

_____________________

Name: Killian Bloodgrave

Rank: Novice Mage

Mana Technique: Song of Blood (Bronze)(Primary)

Fragments: 0/1000

Profession: Blood Mage

Spells: None

Skills: Stabbing (Level 1)

_____________________

"Killian Bloodgrave... that's who I am now,"