Althar could no longer ignore the change within himself. It had been a few days since his encounter with the woman, whose name still eluded him, and yet she haunted his thoughts in ways he couldn't explain. Her presence, her words, even her gentle smile—it was like an itch he couldn't scratch, a constant tug at the fabric of his mind. And worse yet, the feeling wasn't fading. It was growing.
As the days passed, Althar's attempts to maintain his emotional detachment grew more futile. He spent hours wandering the streets, observing the lives of the people around him. The magic that flowed through the air, the way the world seemed so vibrant, so full of possibilities—it was as if he had awoken from a long, restless slumber. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't ignore the one thing that was slowly consuming him: the desire to understand what was happening to him.
It had been easy to dismiss it at first. The emotions were strange, foreign—almost suffocating. He had always prided himself on his ability to keep such things at bay, to remain logical, controlled. Yet every time he found himself near her, the woman from the fountain, the sensation in his chest intensified. A warmth, a stirring, something he had never truly felt before.
Today, as he sat on the edge of the city's outer wall, overlooking the valley below, Althar found himself lost in thought. The sky was clear, and the sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting an orange glow across the land. The wind ruffled his cloak, but it did little to calm the storm brewing in his mind.
I cannot allow this, he thought fiercely, his hands gripping the stone beneath him. I must remain in control. I must. I will not be a slave to these feelings.
He had tried. He had tried so hard to ignore it, to distance himself from the emotions that threatened to consume him. But it was becoming more difficult with each passing day.
A soft sound interrupted his thoughts—a quiet rustling, a gentle footstep. He didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
"You've been avoiding me," she said, her voice as soft and steady as always.
Althar's heart stilled. He turned slowly, his eyes locking onto hers. The woman stood a few paces away, her presence as unassuming as ever, but the weight of her gaze was undeniable.
"I've been busy," Althar replied, his tone flat. He had meant to sound indifferent, but the slight edge of frustration that slipped through surprised him.
She didn't seem fazed. "I'm sure. But you know, it's hard to avoid something that follows you around, no matter how far you go."
Althar's brow furrowed. "What do you want from me?"
She tilted her head, as though considering his question. "I don't want anything from you. But you've been running from something for a while now, haven't you? Something inside you."
He clenched his fists, the weight of her words hitting harder than he expected. Running from something... Could she see through him so easily? Was it that obvious?
"I am not running from anything," he said, though his voice lacked the usual conviction. "I am simply... adjusting."
She took a step closer, her gaze never leaving his. "Adjusting to what? The world? Or yourself?"
Her question hung in the air, unspoken, yet it felt like it pierced right through him. For a moment, Althar felt as if the world around him had stopped—like time itself had frozen. The breeze, the distant chatter of the city, the evening sun—all of it faded into the background. There was only her. And her words.
For the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to truly look at her. Not as a stranger, not as a mere passing figure in the crowd, but as someone who seemed to see him. Not the king, not the ruler, but him. And there was a strange weight to that—a weight that settled deep in his chest, making him uneasy.
"I've spent my life controlling everything," Althar said, his voice quiet now, the words slipping out before he could stop them. "But this—these feelings—are beyond my control. I don't know how to deal with them."
The woman smiled softly, but there was no mockery in her expression. Just an understanding that made Althar's chest tighten in a way he couldn't explain.
"That's the thing about emotions, Althar," she said, her voice gentle. "They don't care how much you try to control them. They're a part of you, whether you like it or not. And the more you fight them, the harder they'll fight back."
His mind whirled with her words. Emotions are a part of me... It was an absurd thought. But it was also one that made sense in a way he hadn't considered before. For years, he had kept himself detached—ruling with cold precision, always above the fray, always in control. But here, in this strange world, it was as if everything was slipping through his fingers. Magic. Emotions. People. It was all too much.
"I can't be weak," Althar murmured, his words barely audible. He wasn't sure if he was speaking to her or to himself. "I can't let these feelings control me."
Her eyes softened, and she took another step closer. "Being strong doesn't mean never feeling. It means accepting those feelings and using them to your advantage. Strength is in knowing who you are, not in pretending to be something you're not."
Althar felt a sharp pang in his chest at her words. He had always prided himself on his ability to remain indifferent, to never let anything touch him. But now, with her so close, he could feel the walls he had spent a lifetime building begin to crumble, piece by piece. And the thought terrified him.
"What if I don't want to accept them?" Althar asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
She smiled softly. "Then you'll spend your life running from yourself. And I can't promise that will be easy."
The air between them seemed to pulse with unspoken tension. Althar's heart raced in his chest, the unrelenting ache of confusion and longing clawing at him. He couldn't explain it, couldn't make sense of it. But one thing was becoming painfully clear—he couldn't continue to shut himself off from the world. Not when it was her who was making him feel, and not when his own heart was betraying him with emotions he had long rejected.
"I don't know if I'm ready for this," he said, his voice strained.
The woman's smile never wavered. "None of us ever are."
For a moment, there was silence between them, a moment that felt both like an eternity and the briefest of seconds. And in that moment, Althar realized something he had been unwilling to face before: the world around him, the people he encountered, and even the emotions he had tried so desperately to suppress—they were not the enemy. They were simply part of the threads that wove his existence, whether he wanted them or not.
And the more he tried to avoid them, the more they would bind him.
"I don't know what's happening to me," Althar confessed, his voice shaky now, more vulnerable than it had ever been. "But I feel... something."
The woman's eyes met his, and for the first time, there was no judgment, no expectation. Just acceptance.
"That's all you need," she said softly. "To feel."
Althar didn't know what the future held, or where these emotions would lead him, but for the first time since his reincarnation, he wasn't sure he cared. Something had shifted. And though he couldn't control it, he wasn't as afraid of it as he once had been.
For the first time in a long time, Althar allowed himself to breathe. To feel.