Child Of Time

Grey's consciousness drifted in a fog, a strange stillness pulling him from the dark void of unconsciousness. His mind stirred before his body, and for a moment, he wasn't sure if he was alive or dead. The last thing he remembered was the heat—searing, unbearable, as though he had been tossed into a living inferno. Yet now, there was none of it. 

His eyes fluttered open, heavy and unfocused, as though prying apart the veil of a lingering dream. The dim light of the cavern greeted him—a pale bluish glow emanating from an unseen source, casting uneven shadows on the jagged walls. The cool air brushed against his face, a sharp contrast to the smothering heat he'd endured. 

Grey blinked slowly, his vision adjusting to the low light. The ceiling above him was a mosaic of slick rock, beads of condensation shimmering faintly before dripping in rhythm, the sound echoing faintly in the hollow space. His breaths came shallow and deliberate as he took stock of his body, expecting to feel pain. 

But there was none. 

His fingers twitched, testing, then his arms. They moved freely, unburdened by injury. He hesitated, bracing himself for the agony that should have followed, yet it didn't come. He raised his hands into view, his golden eyes scanning the unmarred skin. The burns, the wounds, the gruesome injuries he remembered—they were gone. 

Completely. 

Grey flexed his fingers, noting the faint stiffness in his joints but no pain. It was unnatural. His body, which had been battered and burnt, should have been in tatters, barely functioning. Yet now it felt... restored. Whole. 

His chest rose and fell steadily as he placed a hand over his heart. It beat strong, each thud a defiance of the death that had so nearly claimed him. 

But how? 

Memories flickered at the edge of his mind. The monstrous beast, towering and relentless, its molten form radiating suffocating heat. The battle had been a blur of desperate maneuvers, each second spent teetering on the edge of survival. He recalled the flash of his weapon, the explosion of light and force as he gambled everything on a single, reckless attack. And then—nothing. 

Grey pushed himself up on his elbows, his movements deliberate. His body responded sluggishly, as though waking from a long sleep, but there was no sign of the crippling damage he had endured. He glanced around, the cavern coming into sharper focus. The walls were uneven, glistening with moisture, and stalactites hung from the ceiling like jagged teeth. 

The air was cool, almost soothing, carrying the faint, earthy scent of damp stone. This wasn't the place where he had fought the beast—it was somewhere else entirely. He frowned, his thoughts racing. 

Where am I? 

A rustle to his right drew his attention. He turned his head slowly, his golden eyes landing on a familiar figure seated a short distance away. Elsa. She leaned against the rough wall, her arms crossed as she regarded him with a neutral expression. 

"You're awake," she said, her tone devoid of warmth but not entirely cold. 

Grey didn't respond immediately, his gaze narrowing as he pieced together fragments of memory. She had been there, watching, waiting—until the end. He remembered her stepping in, her power cutting through the chaos like a blade. 

He pushed himself upright, the motion stiff but manageable. His muscles ached faintly, a ghost of the exertion he had endured, but nothing more. 

Elsa's gaze lingered on him, sharp and unyielding. "You should be dead," she said bluntly, her words cutting through the stillness. 

Grey exhaled slowly, his voice low. "I'm not." 

"No thanks to yourself," she said, her tone edged with dry sarcasm. "You're lucky I decided to step in. Otherwise, you'd be ash." 

He glanced down at his hands again, his jaw tightening. Lucky wasn't the word he'd use. His pride bristled at the idea of being saved, yet he couldn't deny the truth. He had been outmatched, completely and utterly. 

And yet, the fact remained: she had been the one who forced him to fight that thing. His thoughts darkened, but he chose not to argue further, his gaze settling on his hand. It had been completely burned during the battle with the monster, yet now there wasn't a single sign of injury.

"How?" he asked finally, his voice quieter than he intended. 

Elsa shrugged, her movements casual. "Healing magic. Some of it's my own. Some of it's... older. The kind that doesn't leave scars." 

Grey frowned, her words offering more questions than answers. He didn't press further, though. Instead, he let his gaze wander the cavern again, noting the faintly glowing crystals embedded in the walls, their light casting eerie reflections across the wet stone. 

"Where are we?" he asked after a pause. 

"Deeper in the cave" Elsa replied, her tone matter-of-fact. "I moved you after the fight. Didn't want to camp near where you almost got killed." 

Her words stung, but Grey didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he let the silence settle between them, his mind churning. 

The fight had been a harsh reminder of his reality. This world, with its magic and monstrous creatures, was nothing like the one he had once ruled. He had been a king, a conqueror, feared and respected. But here, he was weak—an outsider clinging to survival. 

And yet, despite the humiliation, there was a spark of something else. Not despair, not bitterness. 

Determination. 

The struggle, the danger—it was thrilling in a way he hadn't expected. For the first time in what felt like lifetimes, he had something to strive for. 

But that didn't make the road ahead any less daunting. The lack of mana, his biggest obstacle, loomed like a shadow over every thought. No matter how much he wanted to claw his way back to the top, he couldn't ignore the gaping void where his power should have been. 

He clenched his fists, his expression darkening. "I'll manage," he muttered to himself. 

Elsa didn't miss the words, but she didn't comment. Instead, she stood, brushing off her clothes and adjusting her cloak. "Rest while you can. We'll move soon." 

Grey glanced up at her, nodding faintly. He didn't thank her, and she didn't expect him to. The unspoken understanding between them was enough for now.