"Some souls are not born to be saved. They are born to remember."
That night, the sea was silent. Its waves were calm, as if they knew someone would end their life. At the edge of a luxury cruise ship gliding quietly under the shattered moonlight, stood a man with dead eyes. No tears. No screams. Just silence.
Merlin.
A fake name. A name for running away.
A name for a man who had lived 28 years without true happiness.
Thirteen years ago, he lost his father. And since that day, he lost more than just one person. He lost his home. Love, and hope. His mother—the woman who used to be gentle—looked at him as if he was a curse. His older brother, the only sibling he had, turned as cold as a gravestone he never visited again.
But it wasn't because of true hatred. Just... misunderstandings that were never given a chance to be explained.
And now, tonight, on his 28th birthday, the man chose to die.
But when his body fell, sinking into the sea's embrace, death didn't come as he expected.
What came... was silence.
And in that silence, there was a woman's voice—soft, yet lacking warmth. Like a song sung by a porcelain doll.
"You have failed. The world has failed you. But the wheel hasn't stopped turning."
"You are given a choice. Die and vanish into the formless flame... or live again, as a new pawn in an old game."
He wanted to answer, but didn't know what to say.
"I don't like heat."
The woman before Merlin smiled and said, "Close your eyes, Merlin."
As Merlin closed his eyes... he was born again.
"What's the point of reliving life if it's just to be a pawn?"
****
That night, in the grand hall of the imperial palace, the cries of a newborn baby echoed, wrapping the whole room in a rare joy. The sky outside the palace was clear, as if all the stars bowed in respect to the birth of the emperor's second son.
The empress smiled broadly, tears falling down her cheeks as she looked at the tiny baby in her arms.
"Look at you, my child... so small, so pure. Just like that woman said."
The baby—Zake von Zarythean—cried with a strong voice, his round eyes blinking, and his skin as white as snow. The loyal attendants surrounding the empress shared in her gratitude, their smiles sincere, as if all the burdens weighing down the palace lifted, even if only for a moment.
"Finally... the second prince is born healthy."
"May he bring hope to this nation," whispered an elderly attendant, tears glistening in her eyes.
But amidst the joy, no one knew... that far away, fate was already writing a new line for this child.
****
Six Years Later
Zake's sixth birthday passed quietly. Only the empress, her first child, a few loyal servants, and a small cake on the table. But that night, while everyone slept, Zake sat alone in the garden, staring at the pale moon.
That was where he met the woman.
Her footsteps were silent. Her face hidden behind black fabric. Her hands thin, like bones wrapped in skin. She approached, carrying the scent of withered flowers.
Zake simply stared with innocent eyes, unafraid.
"Who... are you?" he asked, his voice small.
The woman paused. A faint smile curved on her lips.
"You are the forty-sixth... Second Prince of the bound blood. I am just a messenger."
"A messenger...?"
"A curse."
She blew withered flower petals into Zake's face, and for a brief moment, the world stopped moving.
"Remember... and be born again in suffering."
****
Seven Years Later – First Day at the Academy
Zake stood before the grand gates of Erandel Academy. His eyes lifted to the tower where the imperial flag fluttered. In his chest, there was a strange feeling—a sting mixed with bitterness.
"The academy... maybe here I can live like a normal kid," he whispered.
But the moment he stepped inside, whispers and laughter surrounded him.
"There he is, the failed second prince..."
"Born from a great empress, but... look at him, so weak."
"Even the first prince, a concubine's child, is stronger than him!"
"His sister is so strong, she awakened mana and aura at age six."
Zake stopped in his tracks. He bit his lip, holding back the burning pain in his chest. In his head, voices from the past began to whisper.
"You're just a burden."
"Why don't you just die?"
"Look at them... even your sister could wield a sword at eight, while you... can't even lift a magic staff."
Zake closed his eyes.
And there, in the darkness of his mind, memories of a life on Earth began to fracture, like shattered shadows.
He saw himself sitting in front of a computer screen, playing RPG games until morning...
What is this? A memory?
...His mother's smile, fading into hatred toward Merlin from the past...
Why did that woman's smile carry hatred?
...And finally... his body sinking into the dark sea, breath fading, the world dimming, and someone saying:
"You are given a choice. Die and vanish into the formless flame... or live again, as a new pawn in an old game."
Zake stared blankly at the academy floor. His eyes, once deep black, trembled—like a flickering red flame glinting for a brief second.
A memory of me?
At the highest tower, a woman stood behind the glass window. Her hair was deep black, but streaked with strange silver-gray strands, like scars running through it. Her red eyes burned coldly, as if ready to scorch anyone daring to stare.
She watched Zake below.
"You... finally returned, haven't you?"
Her hand clutched a small black pendant, its surface cracked like old glass. The whisper of wind filled the empty space, and in her eyes, there was a blend of hatred, longing, and a wound that had never healed.
"Forty-six times... this world has been reset... and you... will always fail, won't you?"
****
In his dorm room, Zake spoke quietly to himself.
"So this life... is the game I used to play?"
So many questions swirled in his mind, but Zake stayed silent. His eyes, once bright before entering the academy, now dimmed... stripped of light.