Reborn

1118 Words
CHAPTER 2 - Reborn Flocki awoke with a start, his body soaked in sweat. He drew in a few labored breaths, his chest rising and falling sharply as if it were struggling to inflate. His ribs hurt more than they ever had. The last thing he remembered was dying. But now, he was...alive? The smells were wrong, the scents of blood and many kinds of death absent. What was this place? He had never been anywhere like it before in his life, and everything about it felt too wrong to be real. He should have been in the afterlife, among the spirits of the dead. Instead, he was here, weak, achy, and with no sense of having been reborn. Flocki pushed himself into a sitting position, groaning as his protesting muscles complied. He looked down at his hands; they were smaller and thinner than they should be. What was happening to his body? He swung his legs over the side of the bed and then froze. Where was he, anyway? He glanced about, taking in the odd room and the beautiful young woman standing in the doorway. She was so stunning that he would have stared at her for a long moment if she hadn't been regarding him with such open contempt. She looked as if she might spit on the floor at his feet and then turn around and walk out. "Ah, so you can finally wake up now," she said, her voice oozing with sarcasm. "I was starting to think that you would lay here for all of eternity." Confused, Flocki said, "Who are you?" The woman narrowed her eyes. "Don't play stupid with me, Raiden. You know damn well who I am. I'm Elara. Your wife!" *My wife?* Flocki thought, trying to wrap his brain around what was happening. This had to be some kind of mistake, a mix-up in space and time that resulted in him taking on the body and life of another. Yet everything felt so real. "Wife?” Raiden said, his voice strained. Elara rolled her eyes at him. “Yes, wife. You know, the person whom you should support? The person who is your ally?” She gripped the edge of the desk as if it were my throat. “You're useless." It looked as if I was a wall, and her words bounced off. "You can't fight, and you can't protect yourself from the smallest threats. If it weren't for my mom, you'd be on the street.” Raiden, jaw tight, seemed to absorb the slights. But hey, I'm still here. And I'm still somehow, to my great astonishment, the glorious son-in-law. "Where am I?" Raiden asked, paying no attention to her insults. Elara rolled her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose, clearly on the precipice of exasperation. "You really do take the cake for the most dim-witted husband in the history of ever, you know that? We’re in the Elthorn Clan compound, Raiden. To tell the truth, if I wasn't void of any chances of winning the next raffle for the Spa Day at the Compound, I wouldn't even be here telling you. If you somehow manage to forget this place again, I will lose all faith in your ability to remember anything ever again." Raiden's eyes tracked her as she stalked out of the room and slammed the door behind her. He sat in silence, letting the absurdity of it all sink in. He had spent the last few months going absolutely nuts trying to figure out the hows and whys of this world. But for now, at least, it felt good to sit in here, doing nothing, being nobody. He wasn't in this Elthorn world, being a weakling, the son-in-law of the crazy old elven wizard they called Clan Head. Elthorn had almost done him in with that insane magic of his. Raiden had come too close to dying and had almost had to wash his hands of the honor that went with fighting to survive on a cold battlefield. But those ways, being weak, being lost, being in Elthorn's magic deathtrap, were over now. His fists were clenched. **This family and this new life….they think I’m worthless, but I’ll show them who I really am.** Before he could stay ensconced in those thoughts too long, the door opened again, to reveal an older woman charging in. Her sharp eyes were filled with contempt as she stared him down. “Raiden,” she spat, her tone thick with disdain, “you’ve been lying in bed for far too long. It’s time for you to start earning your keep.” Raiden met her gaze and felt even more assured that she was the one in control of this ludicrous house. **Lady Morgana**......it had to be. Raiden questioned the woman before him, steadying his breath. Lady Morgana grinned back at him, malevolent and pleased. "What do I want, you ask? I want you to get your pathetic self together and serve this family with some amount of honor. You'll be responsible for cleaning up the failure of a low-level dungeon on the outskirts. I'm sure they could use some clean-up as the last five adventurer groups we sent out have disappeared. But maybe when you get back from this lovely little errand, I won't have to be so ashamed of my family name." Morgana slapped Raiden across the face and said, "Don't tempt me, boy. You're in no position to defy me, and you're lucky I didn't just kill you when we found you. Without our protection, you'd be nothing more than a memory, and it'd be better for everyone involved if you just faded away. Better for 'us,' that is. Be a good boy. Do what you're told, and maybe you'll live to see another day. You've got no standing, no power, and no rights in this world. You disobey me, and it's your life I'm after." "Fine," Raiden replied, trying to keep calm. "I'll manage." Lady Morgana huffed and puffed, visibly upset with the lack of groveling. "Goodness, I wish you would plan for a little more failure and a lot more humility. You should expect not to get past this next challenge. And yet, I want you to leave right this moment." With that, she puffed and huffed her way clear out of the room. As the door swung shut, Raiden let out a long, low breath. His head was a cyclone of furious and turbulent thoughts, but he could not allow them to take over. This was not a terrible new place he had somehow landed in; it was a set of strange surroundings that he had no choice but to operate within.
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