Chapter 1- The Brothers Who Reincarnated and Rebirthed

"Phew, that was a good workout," Alaric exclaimed, his forehead glistening with beads of sweat. Looking around the stables, he breathed a sigh of relief to see that the horses were all taken care of, their coats brushed and their feed bins full. As the sun began to dip below the horizon and the horses started to neigh, he decided it was time to head out.

"I wonder what brother is up to?" Alaric thought as he walked in the direction of sunset.

***

In a cosy and brightly decorated room, a group of elderly men and women sat in a circle on comfortable cushions. The room was adorned with colourful banners and tapestries, and the walls were illuminated with soft, warm light. As the door opened, a middle-aged man dressed in a long white robe entered the room. The group recognized him immediately as the family head, and they all bowed their heads in respect.

"We are honoured to see the family head," they exclaimed in unison.

The family head acknowledged their gesture and signalled for them to raise their heads.

"It has been four years since our last Seed Awakening ceremony. We must commence once again. Unfortunately, last time, there were no talented individuals in our Winterbourne family. Our neighbouring Stormchaser family, however, has produced a genius ,Eliandor who reached Rank 3 in just four years," said the Winterbourne family leader with a sigh.

At the mention of Eliandor's name, the elders' expressions turned to worry.

"Well, at least we have the descendants of Aurelius," said the family head. "The younger one may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but the older one is a different story."

"Aurelius's eldest son is very remarkable. He spoke at just 8 months, walked at 12 months, and read and wrote at 3 years old. It's a pity Aurelius died so young. He would have been proud of his child," said the Winterbourne family leader with a tone of regret.

"By the way, what was the name of Aurelius's child again? Lof or Laif?" asked one of the elders.

"It was Leif," replied another elder in a low tone.

"Ahh, yes, Leif Winterbourne! As far as I'm aware, he will probably be able to awaken Ethereal Seeds. Even if he cannot awaken Ethereal Seeds, I'm sure he will awaken Mystic Seeds," The family head said with a confident smile.

"First of all, I want to make something clear," said the family head, with a stern tone. "Let's not put our youngsters in competition with the elders. If you want to compete, do it fairly and don't disrupt the unity of our family."

The other family members nodded in agreement, some of them looking slightly taken aback by the seriousness of the message.

"Absolutely," said one of them. "We all want what's best for the family, and that includes respecting each other's roles and contributions."

"I couldn't agree more," added another. "We should be working together, not against each other."

The family head smiled, pleased with the response. "That's what I like to hear. As long as we keep that in mind, we can overcome any challenge that comes our way."

"Shall we begin the praying ceremony now?" asked the family head, addressing the elders in the room.

All the elders nodded in agreement. "Yes, let's begin," replied one of them in a commanding tone.

With a nod of acknowledgment, the family head stepped aside, allowing an elderly gentleman to take the lead in conducting the ceremony. The room fell silent as they prepared to start the proceedings.

"Today marks the 625th anniversary of the Winterbourne family. We've all gathered here to honor this special occasion and pay homage to Elvandil, the savior of the Eastern Islands. Before we commence with our prayer, I would like to call upon Eldora," the old man spoke loudly.

As the group assembled, Eldora, an elderly woman, rose to her feet and began to sing.

"Elvandil, Celestial Archer of the stars,

Defender of Light and vanquisher of the dark,

With Starfall bow in hand, it stands tall,

Against the abyss, it answers the call.

Each shot a blaze of shimmering light,

A beacon of hope in endless night,

A symbol of courage, unwavering and true,

Elvandil, the protector of Sirenica's few.

Legends speak of its fearless might,

Of demons trembling at the mere sight,

For in its power and grace untold,

Elvandil shines bright, a hero bold.

Oh, Elvandil, bringer of the dawn,

May your arrows guide us as we carry on,

Through the darkness, your light will show,

That in the end, hope and courage shall grow."

As the old woman, Eldora, finished her song, a group of men quickly dragged an unwilling cow into the room. From the first glance, it was clear that this was no ordinary cow: it was a vivid green color, with branches sprouting lush green leaves where fur should have been. Its horns were made of tree bark, not bone. Despite its resistance, the men approached with chopping axes and forcibly decapitated the creature.

Blood gushed from the cow's neck as the men lifted its headless body and held it over the nearby statue, drenching it in the crimson liquid.

Again, Eldora rose to her feet and sang a prayer:

"Grant us talents so peerless and rare,

For this tree-horned cow, we've sacrificed with care."

As she finished, the other elders in the room stood up and bowed deeply to the statue ahead of them.

"Now that the ritual is complete, we must begin preparing for the seed awakening ceremony," an elderly man with a wrinkled face declared.

"Jurna is correct - we must begin the ceremony soon," the other elders agreed in unison.

"Then the seed awakening ceremony shall commence on the first of Solace. Until then, we must make all necessary preparations," added the old man solemnly.

While drinking some water, Eldora said, "The other half of the prayer ceremony will be completed tomorrow!" After all, praying always takes a huge toll on the body.

The horse stables were located on the outskirts of the village, so returning home was quite a journey for 9-year-old Alaric.

As he walked, the environment around him changed from the densely packed market of mortals to a completely new environment - the inner district of Winterbourne village.

As Alaric walked, he could see the difference between the lifestyle of mortals and Weavers.

With a sigh, Alaric ran, as the sky was already dark.

***

Soon, he reached a two-story house with a huge courtyard. Even compared to the luxurious houses surrounding it, it stood out due to its different style of lighting, structure, and the way it was built. As he walked towards it, he felt colder and colder as he saw the person standing in the doorway.

It was Margaret Whitmore, the wife of the house steward. Seeing Alaric, Margaret's face turned angry, but she didn't say anything. Alaric looked at her with caution as he slowly entered.

As soon as Alaric got inside, he started running, but before he could sprint, a stick came at him with fast speed and hit his tender calf.

Thump!

He fell down, and before he could turn around, the stick hit him again, gradually moving to his back. In desperation, he could only use his hands to protect his head. He knew this was bound to happen, as he had been beaten many times in the past for staying out after 5 pm, but he didn't care. After years of physical abuse, his body had become somewhat resilient to pain.

Only after his back was full of bruises did Margaret stop. Seeing the weak Alaric lying on the ground like a beaten dog, she felt very satisfied.

"If only you were like your brother, obedient, talented, and responsible, you would be much more appreciated," Margaret said as she threw a bottle of ointment for his bruises to heal.

"Yea... Bitch," Alaric muttered silently as he ran to the end of the hall, opened the door to his room, and locked it shut.

As he lay on the cold wooden floor, Alaric couldn't help but think about his older brother, Leif Winterbourne. Leif had always been talented, even from birth. He was a genius, and everyone knew it.

Unfortunately for Alaric, he was constantly compared to his elder brother. Margaret, their guardian, was particularly harsh. She often beat Alaric, using Leif as an example of what Alaric should be.

Despite feeling some jealousy towards his brother, Alaric didn't harbour any hate towards him because he was a reincarnator. He knew he had a unique ability that his brother didn't possess, so why should he be envious of him?

Yes, reincarnation!

Reincarnation was Alaric's deepest secret. He remembered being reborn in this world when he was only two years old, and it had been seven years since then.

To be fair, if he had any emotion towards his brother, it was gratitude because it was Leif who saved him and enabled him to live to this age.

As he got up and began applying ointment, he remembered his past life. He was just a normal middle scholar enjoying life, playing games, and doing usual things when death came like a thief in the night and stole his life. The next thing he knew, he was reborn in this world.

At first, he had some serious pride as a reincarnator, but he was humbled on the first day when Margaret beat him nearly to death. Luckily, his brother saved him.

Since that day, Leif had always saved him. As he grew up, Alaric felt the cold, harsh reality that he was nothing special.

Initially, he had wanted to show off his skills from the twenty-first century, but he held back after hearing rumours about soul weavers who were experts in soul manipulation. He feared that his deepest secrets would be exposed, and he couldn't even imagine the consequences.

Overall, Alaric felt a sense of humility and gratitude towards his brother. He knew that Leif had always been there.

***

Countless dragons flew in the sky, their roars and bright light shaking the mountains and the seas. But amidst the chaos, a brighter light floated above.

"Dark Realm Weaver, how dare you attack my dragon clan! You humans have lost your mind!"one of the biggest dragons in the sky bellowed.

"You dragons have nonchalantly slaughtered my human race for countless years. Today, I've come to put an end to it," the light slowly formed into the silhouette of a human figure. Each word the figure spoke sent a deadly beam of light to the ground, killing weak dragons.

As soon as those words filled the sky, every dragon sensed an ominous feeling deep in their gut – a premonition that there was no way out of this situation but to fight. The gravity of the situation dawned upon them, and they knew that this was a battle between different races, where mercy had no place.

"Then be prepared, as we dragons demonstrate our superiority as the top mystickind!" the leading dragon declared, taking a fighting stance, and others followed.

Meanwhile, inside a dark underground dungeon, two children with golden clothing, dragon-like horn scales, and long golden tails were crying in the arms of an old man.

One of the children who looked older sounded, his voice trembling as he spoke, his heart heavy with sadness and confusion. "Grandpa Nalth," he said, his words barely audible through his tears, "why can't we just live in peace? Why must we fight? Is it because of our tails? Our scales? Our horns?"

The old man's sigh conveyed a sad truth "My child, as much as I wish it were possible, the chasm between dragons and humans is as vast as the skies and the earth, and as unyielding as the mountains and the oceans, for the two races are like the sun and the moon, forever separated by an unbreachable distance.'"

"Take this"

Without warning, the old man produced a long golden scroll and placed it into Aurelion's hands. As the boy's fingers touched the intricate designs on the scroll, he felt a shiver run down his spine. He knew instantly that this was no ordinary object.

"Grandpa, what is this?" Aurelion asked.

"It's a reminder that you're the dragon prince. Always support your companions beside you, especially your little brother, Innothar. Although he might be a mute and a bit different, never forget the bond between you and him," the old man said, hugging both children in a sad tone.

"As for this scroll, it is called the Codex Draconis Immortalis, or Dragon's Codex. Open it when you reach the outside world clan or when you reach at least Archweaver.Until then, these guys will accompany you two until you reach the outside clan safely," the old man said, and a few soldiers soon appeared behind him.

Sobbing, Aurelion nodded as he hugged his crying little brother, knowing this might be his last goodbye with his grandpa. He knew the person attacking the dragon clan was a Realm Weaver, the epitome of Weavers. Even if his grandpa survived, the chances were low.

As the old man turned away, a hole appeared beneath their feet, sucking them all up.

...

"It's... it's all my fault," Aurelion sobbed, his whole body shaking with grief and guilt as he held Innothar's body. Blood seeped from his wounds, pooling around them in a sickening crimson stain. Aurelion's scales were slick with it, and his heart felt heavy as he wept.

As he cried, Innothar's bloody hands trembled, reaching for Aurelion's face. But before they could touch him, they fell to the ground with a wet thud. Aurelion's eyes widened in horror as he watched them go, tears streaming down his face.

Suddenly, an attack came, and Aurelion barely had time to react before Innothar's hands were severed by a sharp blade. The sound of metal slicing through flesh was sickening, and Aurelion screamed as he watched his brother's hands fall to the ground.

"You filthy dragons should have died when Lord Realm Weaver attacked your clan," a human taunted, his voice filled with venom. Aurelion looked up, his eyes blazing with anger.

"What are you staring at, you filthy snake? Hmm, was torturing and killing your brother not enough? Hey Liam, I think this guy doesn't get it," the human said, turning to his companion.

The humans closed in, their weapons drawn and their faces twisted with malice. But Aurelion didn't care. All he felt was a searing pain in his chest, a deep sense of loss that threatened to overwhelm him.

Hatred consumed Aurelion as he saw a few humans smiling, and memories flooded back to him. Memories of his clan members dying, of their screams filling the air as they fell one by one. Memories of their blood spilling onto the ground, staining the earth with their sacrifice.

But before he could act, a few of his subordinates arrived, battered and wounded but still standing. One of them scooped Aurelion up, while the others formed a shield around him. They retreated, the sounds of battle fading away behind them.

As Aurelion began to lose consciousness, he heard their words: "Prince, we know you're angry, but we just need to make it to the clan outside. Then we can regroup and seek revenge." But all Aurelion could think of was Innothar, his brother, his friend, lying dead in his arms. The pain of his loss was too much to bear, and Aurelion's heart shattered into a million pieces.

…

The ruins sprawled before Aurelion, stretching as far as his eyes could see. Their jagged edges cut into the sky like broken teeth, a haunting reminder of their shattered dreams. The outside clan, which they had hoped would be their salvation, now lay in ruins, a wasteland of destruction. And in the midst of it all, their own clansmen lay skinned alive, their bodies a grim reminder of the horrors they had faced.

Aurelion's heart was heavy with grief and regret. He knew that their pride and stubbornness had led them to this bitter end. The pain etched deep into his features, but he refused to show weakness in front of his people. He had to be strong for their sake.

The scene was a devastating blow, and the realization hit them hard. Aurelion's stoic demeanor did little to hide the sorrow in his heart. They had all known that this could be the end result, but they had refused to accept it. Now, however, the consequences were clear for all to see.

"What do we do now?" a dragonman asked, his voice trembling with fear and uncertainty.

Aurelion took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. "We survive," he said, his voice low and determined. "We hide and train until we are strong enough to take back what is rightfully ours."

The dragonmen were silent for a moment, their hearts heavy with grief and anger. Then, as one, they let out a cry of defiance that echoed across the ruins. They would not rest until they had avenged their fallen kin.

…

"Filthy dragon, hand over the Dragon's Codex, and we will at least allow you a burial," one of the attackers yelled.

"Old monster, you have killed so many humans, yet you are not satisfied. Hand over the Dragon's Codex for justice," another shouted.

"You might have forgotten, but you took the life of my father, Liam, thirty years ago. Today, I am here to take revenge," someone else declared.

"You bastard, you skinned my family alive, yet you bragged about it! Don't you have any shame?" yet another person screamed.

Aurelion turned a deaf ear to their screams. His clothes were drenched in blood, and it was gushing out from every pore of his body. However, he made no attempt to stop the bleeding. As he looked around, he saw countless enemies that he had made throughout his life.

He was standing on a cliff, with a huge stone nearby that he was using as support. The Dragon's Codex, the last gift his grandfather had given him, was even more valuable than he had initially thought. Now he understood why his grandfather had told him not to open the scroll until he had reached the Archweaver realm.

As he looked at the people in front of him, he was drenched in blood and tired. The battle had continued from morning until evening. As he watched the sunset, he laughed bitterly.

"Alone in the darkness, I stand, with nothing left in my hands. Family, friends, emotions, all gone. Facing death, I stand alone," he laughed while looking at the sunset.

"Ha, I still failed in the end, huh?" Aurelion mocked himself.

Memories of the past flooded his mind: how his clan was destroyed, how his brother died in his arms, and how his companions died to save him. He remembered how he lost everything and became an emotionless, inhumane monster. But in the end, he had no regrets.

He had given the murderers of his brother a hundred times worse death. He slaughtered entire kingdoms just to find the people who killed his companions, but he still failed to get revenge for his clansmen. In the end, he was too weak. The difference between a Rank 9 Realm Weaver and a Rank 6 Archweaver was like the difference between heaven and Earth.

With a bitter laugh, he gazed at the people ahead. "If the Dragon's Codex works, then mark my words, you bastards from the Tribunal. I will return one day and make you pay for taking everything from me. I will pierce your heads with my vengeance!"

"What is that monster laughing about?"

"Beware the dying monster's final strike is coming!"

"Bastard! Chop his head up!"

Before anyone could react, a golden scroll materialised in Aurelion's hands, emitting a blinding light that illuminated the entire area. His body began to pulsate, swelling with an otherworldly energy. Suddenly, with a thunderous roar, Aurelion's body exploded into a catastrophic blast, unleashing a force equivalent to a nuclear weapon. The devastating impact left no survivors, and the surrounding landscape was left in ruins.

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Author words:-

Hey, I know the poems I wrote are pretty bad, but please bear with me. I'm not a poet, but I tried my best, so if you have a minute, can you give them a read and let me know what you think?

Ah, and if you're a bit confused about the chapter, here's some extra info:

The ranks are split into 9 levels, each with a different title. So for example, Archweaver is the title for rank 6.

By the way, I just want to clarify that the main character isn't actually Aurelion. That's something you'll find out in the next chapter.

And just a heads up, the prologue is a bit lengthy, so might wanna wait few weeks until the prologue is done to binge read it.

Oh, and I forgot to mention, the character names all have meanings!

Alaric- The name Alaric is of Germanic origin and means "ruler of all" or "ruler of all people." It was a popular name among the Goths and the most famous bearer was the Gothic king Alaric I who sacked Rome in 410 AD.

Winterbourne- Winterbourne is an English surname derived from "winter" and "burna," meaning "winter stream." It was given to people who lived near a stream that only flowed during the winter months. It's also a place name in England and can be used as a given name.

Aurelion- Aurelion is a Latin name that means "golden" or "gilded." It is a rare name and is typically given to boys. The name is associated with the character "Aurelion Sol" from the video game "League of Legends."

Mystickind- Mystickind refers to non-human species such as dragons, orcs, bears, lions, and others.