Your End Is My Beginning

“Now kill me, little Carl” “As long as it is you, i will feel free” “As my last wish, kill me Carl” the king said looking at his little brother. “You really are idiot, brother” Carlos looked down at the king, unblinking yet his voice filled with pain, his tears falling down. And Carlos laughs bitterly and sounds broken. And he lifted the blade higher, tip aimed for the heart to finish quickly. For his brother to not feel the pain and be free from those strings that control him immediately. “Brother, you never changed” And Carlos drove the sword downward to meet his brother’s heart… The throne room’s doors that have been closed for eternity had opened and thousands of swords had just been thrown to him in an instant. Also with a terrifying speed. His eyes widened. Something massive passed between him and his brother, faster than thought and attacking him. He didn’t have time to lift his blade. And a shadow come in front of him and then— Nothing. The world is titled as he falls to the ground and his last breath is caught in his throat. And only darkness was there. _______________________ There has always been a man named Carlos. Carlos had always been a shadow beside his brother, the king and the throne, a prince without a crown, born first yet not love by his family nor his own empire, born royal yet the gods didn't even glaze upon him. The kingdom whispered of his brutality as if they had known him for a long time, of the way he killed those with blessings, and they only spoke of how he had killed them not how the other had done to him, they rather spoke about him instead of the war that made him like that, and yet he still think of them as his people to protect. But in the end, he died with steel in his hand and grief in his eyes—fulfilling the last wish the very brother he once loved more than his own life and not knowing who attacked him to the end. And then, the world blinked. Carlos awoke in a bed of the silence room filled with only darkness and a light coming through from the only one window that had been opened and beneath a sky too blue to be real, the floor is too clean to feel safe, his pain disappeared, his chest unscarred,his body shrunk and his hands which wore the sword as his companion, the hands which was rough and hard, they become small. His reflection in the nearby mirror in front of his bed showed the face he hadn’t seen for a long time, the face that had not feel anything and the body of a boy who through puberty just now is right in front him--- 15 year old of body, he freckled, wide-eyed, innocent yet laced with memory. He had died as a man. And he returned as a boy. The world was new, no wars, no pain, no betrayal and time—for reasons unknown—had gifted him a second chance. But what would he do with it?