The Reincarnation of Alysara. Prologue: Legacy

Art by Maury.

This is the long-awaited rewrite.

AN: Got some editing suggestions? Suggest it on the Google Docs here:

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1qkJ9RPZh1AxRHbXeEmAtmY2KAca3LRWVIq-2ab11aKg/edit?usp=sharing

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Stars twinkle around me like a cloud of tiny shining rubies. Many grow dim and eventually wink out of existence, only for new stars to appear elsewhere. They are dark red in color, but looking around, I see a small collection of them with a faint grey tinge. This greyness seems to be contagious, slowly spreading to nearby stars.

I continue watching the stars in fascination as new ones become redder and more vibrant with each generation. The grey moves from star to star, somehow coexisting with them; at least, it doesn’t seem like a sickness. In fact, it seems to extend the longevity of the stars. Eventually, I start hearing a soothing tinkling sound, like wind chimes blowing in the breeze. Questions whirl around my mind. What is this place? What are these ‘stars’? And so many more. I can’t move, I can’t wave my arms, I can only watch, so that’s what I do.

I watch, and watch, for an eternity and many eternities after that. Time seems to have no meaning here, yet causality is moving forward as the stars, now a bright red, are turning orange. I feel profound drowsiness creep through my being, as if my very existence is tired and slow, like I have stayed up all night, yet I cannot stop watching. The longer I spend in this... void, the more I feel my very existence start to slumber, and my memories fade, not forgotten, but as if they are falling asleep.

The stars change from orange-yellow to yellow and then onto yellow-green, and all the while, the grey spreads faster and faster until all stars have been claimed. Each star that is born is almost instantly claimed, the grey somehow delaying the death of the stars for so long now that they seem less like a cloud and more like a blanket wrapped around me.

My consciousness starts drifting in and out of dormancy, wrapped by this blanket of stars, until I suddenly feel an existential terror with my whole being! I spot a hole in the ever-thickening blanket of stars, and the sound of chimes starts to dwindle. The void widens as the stars begin to quickly fade one by one... no, they aren’t fading; they are being killed; something is destroying the stars and the grey inhabiting them! The void widens faster and faster, destroying all that the grey had worked for. I try to remain conscious and fight my growing fatigue, but it’s useless; I fall into dormancy, waking up to find that the void has grown significantly. 

I continue to fall in and out of dormancy; each time I wake back up, I find ever fewer stars until an all-consuming void is all that greets me. No matter how hard I look, all I see is darkness, an endless sea of nothing, an empty eternity. With a feeling of hollow loneliness, I finally resign myself to slumber.

A tinkling bell sounds in my mind, but I do not awaken. Again and again, it tinkles like wind chimes, a soothing melody in the darkness. Suddenly, I feel a vast presence, a formless, invisible thing that somehow brings with it a sense of both serenity and curiosity. The presence evokes the feeling of gazing upon the vast beauty of the stars in the sky, the serenity of a wintery landscape, and the beauty of a waterfall; it is the holistic, complete embodiment of the concept of beauty. But there is another side to it as well: the energizing feeling of inspiration, the fulfilling feeling of creating something, emotions of creation made manifest.

I feel a prodding sensation, an uncomfortable jabbing. I am rudely jostled and moved, yet waking up feels like trying to push through tar.

Soon, the jabbing, prodding, and jostling stops, but the chimes remain ever ringing in my mind. For a long time, I sleep, listening to the chimes. Then, out of nowhere, I am shocked! A zapping electrical feeling shoots through my very essence! Awareness suddenly fills me, and once again, stars flicker all around me. The stars shine with multiple colors, like each has a rainbow captured within.

Where am I? It feels like I’ve seen something like this before, being in a void with stars all around me, but I can’t bring up my memories.

“Welcome, lost legacy. I am Myrou, Goddess of Beauty and Creativity,” a feminine voice that seems to echo around the void says. 

If a voice could give hugs, then hers would be the closest thing. Her voice wraps around me with a warm and oddly beautiful feeling, like a mother’s affectionate embrace. “I am sure you are confused and have a lot of questions, but there will be a time for that.”

I nod, looking around to try and find the goddess.

A giggle echoes around me, like a wave gently washing ashore under a moonlit night with the air still. “I am here; I just haven’t shown myself to you yet.”

“Lost… legacy?” I wonder aloud. I try to think back to anything I know about it. It doesn’t seem like I know a thing, but the mere act of trying to dig around in my memories feels like trying to prod awake a stubborn sleepyhead. It almost feels as if whatever I am looking for says, “Gimme five more minutes…”

“Don’t push it. Your memories, and who you used to be, have been dormant for a really long time; give it a while, and it will slowly reawaken. You see, your soul is incredibly old, the oldest one we’ve found. You are from an era long before gods and magic, from a realm that has long since ended; you are what we call a legacy soul,” Myrou says, her voice invoking the passionate feeling of performing a sensual dance. I wonder how she is doing that, how her voice invokes such feelings. 

“How can you tell I am so old?” I ask. No sound comes out, but the goddess knows what I said nonetheless.

“Your soul is completely untouched by magic, but it’s even more than that, it’s... how do I explain this... exotic? Proper reincarnation leaves an... impression on your soul. As realms evolve, the souls evolve too. We’ve never found a soul as old as you... until now. Based on our studies of realms and current theories, we think your soul is from one of the earliest realms.”

“Evolution of realms? What is that? How does it work?” It feels like I’ve experienced it, but I just can’t remember.

“Ah well, I tried.” Myrou sighs, invoking the feeling of a warm summer breeze under a starlit night. “You’ll know what I’m talking about once your memories return. In any case! You’re unique, and we want to know more about where you came from.”

“How will you do that?” I say, worried that she might hurt me in the process of learning about me.

“We aren’t going to harm you. It simply involves scanning your memories. we just want to know what one of the first-ever realms was like; it is vital for our studies.” The voice sounds almost excited, still seeming to wrap around me with its huggy nature.

“How about this: I’ll give you a boon, and you will let us examine your memories and experiences. From what we know about other legacies, it’ll only take about twenty short years for all your memories to fully resurface.”

I consider her offer for a long time, trying to think of how it would benefit me, but being the Goddess of Beauty and Creativity, surely she has something good, right? 

“Very well,” I say with a sigh of resignation. I don’t like the idea of my memories being examined, but as long as nothing bad happens to me and I get a boon out of it, I might as well.

“Excellent!” streams of light suddenly swirl around me before condensing in front of me, taking the shape of a gorgeous woman, nay, an impossibly beautiful woman. As if she is the very manifestation of beauty and creativity, reality around her shimmers and twinkles beautifully with the vastness of the cloudless and starry night sky. She has long, flowing, golden, silky hair, flawless pale skin, and eyes like deep emeralds. Her robes are like a flowing river of a deep and rich blue with a marbling of lighter blue. Surprisingly, she is massive, like a giant; either that or I am just tiny, small enough to fit in the palms of her hands. No, I actually am in the palms of her cupped hands; when did that happen?

“I shall give you the gift of beauty. May you use it well!” the goddess says, and suddenly, I feel a connection, not quite to her, but to the very concept of beauty itself.

“Gift of beauty? What exactly does that do? Shouldn’t I get something that’ll help me survive? What happens if I die again?” I ask question after question, now knowing this goddess won’t do anything to me.

“One at a time, please,” Myrou says with a sigh. “You’ll understand better after seeing what it does, but do know that it will help you survive, not that I plan to toss you in a place that has a high risk of killing you in the first place. I have prepared a place for you, safe and isolated. Can’t have you dying before we get your memories after all.” Myrou smiles radiantly. Somehow, reality itself seems to blossom with her expression, as if pleased by her good mood.

“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me anything about where I’m going? It’ll help getting a heads-up,” I say, trying to get as much as I can.

“First, you don’t have a head as you currently are.” The goddess grins at her own joke. Again, reality itself reacts positively, this time taking a warm and soothing presence, perhaps to counteract her cringy joke. “Second, it’s a surprise! Anything else you want to ask before you move on?”

“Why don’t you just keep me here? If it’ll take twenty years, this is the safest and most controlled situation for you,” I can’t help but ask.

“That’s a fair question. It’s because your soul will just go back to sleep. You need a vessel to properly reawaken.”

“I guess I’m out of questions now.”

“Good, now, off you go!” Myrou draws me back, and, taking a pose with a raised leg, she literally throws me toward a nearby star. Her rough handling surprises me, and after recovering for a moment, I look back to see another being manifest next to Myrou. 

This new being gives me the strong impression of an old library, a freshly made scroll, a professor, the very embodiment of the concept of knowledge and wisdom. It takes the form of an old man with a long white beard reaching to his knees. He wears a large pointed hat and grey robes with blue trim.

“That was sneaky of you, Venaro,” Myrou says in a vaguely accusatory tone.

“Might as well give it the best chance it can get.” Venaro strokes his beard. The two giants are getting smaller as I fly away.

“You’re up to something, and I don’t like it.” Her voice fades quickly the further I hurtle away.

“You’ll see, hohoho,” Venaro laughs, the sound carrying the echoes of great tomes slamming closed.

The star slowly grows bigger and bigger as I approach until white light is all that I see; then, suddenly, I am embraced in a warm and inviting darkness, and soon, I fall asleep.