An End and A Beginning

His feet bounced against the floor as his sharp blue eyes locked in on his target, a large punching bag. Stepping forward, he shifted the weight of his strong body. The tall, strong, muscular, dark-haired teenager threw a hard jab, his weight shifting forward quickly. The gloved fist slammed into the sandbag, driving it backward before it came back. With a second step, he drove in a left, his second punch hitting the punching bag.

Again and again, each punch drove forward, each quick, snappy hit as he moved back and forth, dancing upon the ground as he dished out punch after punch.

His training was going well. He had a match coming up soon, as the eighteen-year-old was going to go for his first major boxing tournament in his life. He stepped back as he smiled, tapping his fist against the punching bag after a good bit of work. It felt good—his body felt honed like a coiled rattlesnake, ready to strike at any time.

Smiling, he went walking across the simple old gym that he called his home away from home. He could smell the scent of sweat in the air as he walked to the door to the locker room. As he opened it, he walked quietly up to his old locker—his change of clothes, a place to put his gear, and to put on his gloves. It was a place he had spent so much time sitting in front of during his life. He smiled, thinking about previous matches.

His name was at the top—Caesar Alexander—written on a piece of tape that had slightly faded from the years he had been using this locker. Taking off his gloves quickly, he went to get his shower, ready to head off home to work on a bit of studying he had to do for his classes.Getting ready quickly, Caesar’s mind thought about what he needed to do. He had work for English class to work on. He had to make sure he was up to date with his math class, and he had to make sure to rush back over to the gym tomorrow, as he had a week until his big match with Joey Two Lefts.

Smiling, he could imagine himself throwing a hard combination, his punches landing against the taller and leaner Joey, staggering him back as he followed up with a combination that would put him on his back for good. He could see the people watching him, cheering him. He could see everything flash before his mind instantly.

His mind was pulled out of his dream by the loud sound of a horn. He looked up to see an eighteen-wheeler coming at him. His life flashed before his eyes. He could see victory, he could see a cute blonde on his arm, he could see his marriage, his getting old. He could see it all in a flash of a second before everything suddenly went still—nothing around him, as everything froze around him.

He suddenly was in a field of white as he sat on the field of white. His hands pressed against the ground—thought, anything else was nothing but a field of nothingness. Was this the afterlife? He knew he was dead—he had to be, given what had happened to him a moment before. He looked around for a moment, taking a deep breath as he saw a figure in front of himself, a person with a warm, soft smile on her face.

Looking at the ground, he had this feeling, this sinking feeling in his gut. He wouldn’t ever see those who mattered to him again. The image of his mother working late, tired blue eyes, messy brown hair. His little sister with her long pigtails and cute outfit, all flashed before him as he felt a sense of loss pushing down on him for a moment.

Slowly, Caesar pushed himself off the ground as he looked at himself, still in the same clothes that he was wearing when he died: simple blue jeans, brown boots, and a brown old shirt. He looked, tilting his head as he took in the woman standing before him for a moment, his eyes looking over her figure. She was beautiful—peerlessly so. Her long golden hair hung over her shoulder as she stood in a white toga-looking robe, like she came out of one of the mythology books he had read in class.

“So, you look a bit confused,” the female declared with a soft tone that was as soft and sweet to the ears. “Caesar Alexander,” she mused, looking at him, her hands at her side. The look in her eyes was as if she knew exactly who he was.

Looking around again and finding nothing else to even see, his eyes settled back on the pale blonde before himself. “Yes, that is me. Where am I?” he asked, his tone hiding just how confused he was. Yet, his eyes told the truth of the matter.

“Think of this as a world or realm between realms, young Caesar,” she declared, raising her hand as she created a book—which had his name and picture on the cover—out of nowhere. “Seems that you were originally fated to do great things, but…”

Caesar blinked. He wasn’t supposed to die. A worry, a concern, flowed through his mind as he let out a sigh. The dream he wanted—not allowed. What he was supposed to have—all that which happened in his quick vision before his own death.

Seeing his face, she paused for a moment as she looked at the words in the book. “It seems someone made an error, and you were not supposed to be daydreaming at the wrong moment today,” she said, laughing before closing the book.

The book faded into nothing as a new book came into her hand—one that also had his name on it too. “This one is mostly blank, but that is because I am going to give you a second chance,” she said as she looked at him, writing things down. “A kind young man with a good heart, competitive, dreamer… Let’s say, the Royal Military Academy of the Kingdom of Varsea. Yes, that will work,” she mumbled to herself as she made more notes with her pen.
Watching the notes being written, Caesar was at a complete loss for what was happening before him. He raised an eye as he tried to think what the meaning of the writing was, and what she was doing. The words, the second chance at life, the books with his name on them—this was all so confusing.

“There, I am done,” she said with a smile, closing the book. “I look forward to seeing how this new life plays out for you, Caesar of the House of Alexander. Let us see how you do in this new life. I shall be watching,” she said with a playful grin, her hand resting on her hip as she then snapped her fingers with the other hand.

The moment she snapped her fingers, everything went to white again, and Caesar was gone from the mystical world—his fate, his journey, just beginning on its way. He felt this sense of loss, but he knew that he couldn’t do anything about it. He could only move forward, only see where this adventure took him.