New Body

Steven stood firm on the unseen floor of the white void, his new form still tingling with the shock of its sudden existence. His mind churned with questions, and he fixed his gaze on the radiant goddess before him. “What just happened?” he demanded, his voice trembling with awe. “One moment I had no body—adrift like a ghost—and now I stand here, whole again. Why?”

Lysandra, Goddess of Vyrthralis, regarded him with a knowing smile, her violet eyes glinting like twin amethysts forged in the heart of a dying star. Her silver hair rippled as if caught in an unseen wind, and she stepped closer, her presence a tide of divine power. “I gazed across the veils of worlds, Steven, and saw you—bound to a life withered and frail, a soul of vigor trapped in a crippled shell. Thirty-six years you endured, diminished by the cruelty of fate. I have unshackled you from that prison. Here, in Vyrthralis, I have reforged you—cast you anew as a youth of eighteen winters, hale and unbroken. In this realm, eighteen is the dawn of true adulthood, the age when destinies are seized.”

Steven’s breath caught as her words sank in. He flexed his hands, feeling the strength in his fingers, the vitality coursing through him. His heart thundered with renewed fire, excitement surging like a storm breaking over a parched land. Before he could speak, Lysandra raised a hand, and the void pulsed with a faint hum of power.

“There is more,” she declared, her voice resonating like a clarion call across a battlefield. “In Vyrthralis, every soul is born with gifts—innate skills woven into their very essence. You, summoned from beyond, may claim this birthright. Choose three, Steven. These will flow through you as naturally as breath, honed without effort, though the path to mastery remains open should you seek it. Consider well, for your choices will shape the legend you carve in this world.”

Steven’s mind raced, his pulse quickening as visions of grandeur unfurled before him. Three skills—three keys to unlock his potential in this vast, unknown realm. He stood taller, the weight of possibility settling upon his shoulders like a mantle of destiny, and began to ponder the powers he would claim.