Prologue: The Fool

It’s midnight. The New England fall air is sharp and familiar, threaded with minty menthol vapor that curls and fades with the wind- inhale, hold, exhale. Under a lone streetlight, a man stands on the edge of an empty, damp sidewalk, 

A tired, gaunt man with a beard and messy black hair peeking from under a battered black hoodie, deep bags under emerald-green eyes, wearing red-and-black plaid pajama pants and black boots. He hits the vape again and stares up at the sky.

I was made a social outcast by my ex-girlfriend at my college, who accused me of assault, all because I stopped going out with her. It sounds like a stupid TV plot; she found every angle to make my life a living hell. I developed a panic disorder. I lost jobs. I drank, smoked. I became a fool- a disgrace to my family.

By twenty-one, I’d stopped leaving my room except for food, the bathroom, the smoke shop, or the liquor store. After a year of slow self-destruction, my only real support- my mother- died. My father left because there was nothing left to hold him back. And now nothing was stopping my siblings from throwing me out.

What the hell do I do now?

I stumble toward the curb without looking. I’m drunk enough I don’t feel the cold or the danger- and then the world turns on itself into noise: a scream of rubber, a metal thud, the sick, wet slap of impact. SMASH- THUNK- SKID.

Tires scream. A pickup truck rips into me and runs right over my body, flinging me into the street like an empty bag. The driver opens the door, curses, and slams it shut. “Shit- I gotta go.” The engine revs and the truck peels away.

“H-help,” I try, but it comes out as a ragged gargle. Blood fills my mouth. I can’t move my legs. My arms don’t answer. My ribs are broken, and I can barely breathe. That truck might as well have been a god. 

I’m sorry. Mom. Dad. I wish I could try again. I’ll- do better, I'll try harder. I promise. please.

Everything goes dark.

Then there’s sound-  someone, screaming in pain. Did someone else get hit? I hope it was just me. I’m not sure. A light threads through the dark and grows. Is this the end? It brightens and becomes a pressure behind my eyes. I strain forward, a useless, desperate reach. I need to help that girl, even if I can barely move.

The screaming cuts off. The air around me shifts from warm and comfortable to colder, shocking my body. Am I not wearing anything? Is this a hospital?

I open my eyes.

Three people, enormous, hovering over me at the edges of my vision. A dark blue haired woman in a maid outfit, a brown haired man with a beard, and a blonde woman with elf ears.

And like anyone with a right mind in my situation, I start to cry profusely in fear and confusion . My throat tears open with sobs, high and sharp, and the sound is wrong- too thin, too small. No. My voice- it’s higher. My hands feel small. My head swims with a dozen questions and no language to shape them. The strangers’ lips move, voices distant and strange, and I don't understand a single word.

From what I’ve gathered in my first day here, I’ve been reincarnated, and this is a different world. The simplest giveaway was my mom’s ears, long and pointed at the tips. I’m nerding out so hard, A real-life elf. I haven’t seen myself yet, but I’d bet I have elf ears too. My dad seems human, at least from what I can tell.

Languages are tricky; I was never great at them in my past life. But I guess the only option is to learn; luckily, my kid brain already feels a bit sharper than my old one. 

After a few days, I’ve started picking up small bits of the language- mostly names. Our maid is Elesia, my mother and father are Anya and Mikhail Redthorn. Most importantly, my new name in this world is Sylas Redthorn.

My biggest discovery this week is magic. Yes- magic. Maybe I should’ve expected it in a world with elves, but I didn’t want to jump to conclusions until I saw Elesia light the stove with fire-magic. She mumbled something under her breath; I still can’t entirely grasp the language. If words and gestures are required to use magic, I’ll have to wait until I can speak and move independently.

All I know is this: in this magical new life, I’ll try again and be stronger. I won’t be the fool I was before.

( hope you enjoyed reading, please comment any feedback or opinions, and stay tuned for more! <3 )