Ch 3: The Exchange
A weightless silence. No sky. No ground. Just an endless, colorless void.
No breath. No pulse. Only thought. A thread of identity unraveling into the abyss.
Nevian Rune
(thinking)
Is this death?
Time meant nothing. He couldn’t remember when he had last felt… anything. His name echoed like a forgotten prayer in a cathedral long abandoned.
A pulse, dim and rhythmic, like the distant beat of a heart underwater. It tugged at him. Pulled him forward through the dark.
Nevian Rune
(thinking)
What is that?
The light was soft, not blinding—warm, almost… familiar. It wasn’t peace. It was purpose. Something surged within him, like static crackling over wet stone.
Sensation slammed into him like a storm tide.
Needles of pain stabbed through limbs that shouldn’t exist. A body. Heavy. Weak. Real.
He gasped, but no air came.
He tried to open his eyes—nothing. But sound returned in fragments: distant voices, boots scraping against stone, the low groan of iron hinges.
Unknown voice
??? (whispering)
“…Caspian…”
Nevian Rune
(thinking, sharply)
No.
The name hit like a blade drawn too quickly.
Nevian Rune
(thinking)
That’s not mine. That’s—
—them.
The traitors. The ones who betrayed him. The royal bloodline that paid for his silence with a knife in the back.
He could feel the press of fabric against his skin. The faint ache of old wounds. His chest rising—barely. A heart beating. A weak, fragile pulse. But a pulse nonetheless.
Nevian Rune
(thinking)
This… this isn’t my body.
He reached inward, groping through the haze. What he found horrified and fascinated him all at once.
A mirror soul. Damaged. Flickering. But still tethered to life.
Caspian Alistair. The prince. The boy too delicate for a world carved from steel and blood.
Nevian now wore his skin.
Caspian Lucas Alistair(ml)
(thinking)
I’m inside him.
This is not an accident.
He opened his eyes slowly. Light flooded his vision—dim, flickering torchlight on sterile white walls. The scent of iron, antiseptic, and lavender poultices.
His limbs wouldn’t move. Not yet. But he could feel them.
Caspian Lucas Alistair(ml)
(thinking)
So the prince lives… but just barely.
He lay still, ears straining. Healers whispered just beyond the curtain. The scrape of parchment, the rattle of glass vials. Voices murmured the name again.
Healer Marek
(whispering)
“…Caspian…”
That name—foreign, despised—was now his own disguise. His armor.
He studied the body. Broken ribs. Bruised skin. A head wound not yet healed. But breathing. Alive. A vessel.
Caspian Lucas Alistair(ml)
(thinking)
I could use this.
I will use this.
He wasn’t sure what force had granted him this second life. Fate? Magic? Vengeance made manifest?
Caspian Lucas Alistair(ml)
(thinking)
Nevian Rune is dead.
But this body… this name… is a key.
He felt a slow, cold smile twitch at the corner of his lips.
Caspian Lucas Alistair(ml)
(thinking)
I will gather their secrets, wear their masks, burn their lies from the inside out.
The voices faded as the healers stepped away. Silence fell again, but it was no longer empty.
He turned his head—barely—and stared at the ceiling.
Caspian Lucas Alistair(ml)
(thinking)
Caspian is their prince.
Let him be their shield.
Cherrie
Hey, I have made some changes from this chapter hope you guys like it. Just let me know if it’s nice or not.
Cherrie
Thank you for walking with me through the veil between life and death. Whether you’re navigating changes in your own life or trying to find your footing after a fall, remember—every ending has something hidden inside it. Sometimes… it’s the beginning of your rise. Keep going. 🌙
Comments
Ashleydew
thank you for the update, author
2025-05-14
1