Faul: The Reincarnation

Chapter 1: Wake Up!

Waaaa! Waaaa! Waaaa!

The cry pierced the silent room, loud and desperate.

“It’s a boy! Go inform the father!” a nurse shouted, her voice full of cheer and warmth that bounced off the stone walls of the birthing chamber.

But Faul… Faul was confused. Why am I crying? he wondered, tears soaking his tiny cheeks. He tried to stop, he truly did, but the cries only grew louder, sharper, echoing from a throat that no longer belonged to a warrior. It was as though his body had betrayed him, unfamiliar and out of control.

A woman, warm, soft, and beaming with joy, cradled him close to her chest. Her arms were firm yet gentle, comforting yet suffocating in their unfamiliarity. “He’s so handsome,” she whispered, pressing his tiny head gently against her bosom as if trying to soothe his restless soul with love alone.

Soft… Faul thought. Why is it so soft? What is this place? Why can’t I move?

With effort that strained every nerve of his new, frail body, he peeled his eyes open. Light flooded his vision, harsh and blinding, then cleared into shapes towering figures loomed above, giants, enormous and strange, watching him with fascination.

Panic gripped him. His heart pounded like a war drum. He tried to run, to escape, to leap to his feet and draw a blade. But his limbs didn’t respond. His legs were stumps, his hands barely moved, and he couldn’t even lift his own head without assistance.

What in the name of Azra is happening to me?

His mind raced with flashes of memories of battlefields soaked in blood, flames swallowing forests, the sound of swords clashing, his voice shouting orders, the weight of armor on his back. And above all, Azra. His homeland. His purpose.

The last thing he remembered was a battlefield. Smoke. Fire. Screams. He was fighting to protect Azra, giving everything he had, and then… there was light. Blinding, engulfing light. Then nothing.

Wait… Faul’s mind raced. What happened to my world?

The door creaked open, slow and deliberate. Faul flinched, turning his tiny head toward the sound. A tall, broad-shouldered man stepped into the room, his boots thudding against the floor with authority. His face was lit with joy, a smile stretching from ear to ear as his eyes fell upon the newborn.

“So… how is he?” the man asked, his voice deep and thunderous, filled with pride and wonder.

“Come, touch him,” the woman said warmly, her eyes glowing as she gazed down at Faul. “He’s perfect.”

Faul stared wide-eyed at the burly man. His heart pounded harder. Was this his captor? Captured? Am I a prisoner of these giants?

“Give him to me,” the man said eagerly, his arms reaching out. He took Faul with reverence and held him close to his chest.

No! Get your filthy hands off me! Faul tried to scream, but the only sound that escaped his lips was a sharp, piercing wail. He squirmed, kicked, but his strength was nothing now. The arms that once held swords trembled like feathers in the wind.

“Aww, he’s strong already!” the man chuckled, rocking him gently, completely unaware of the storm raging inside the child's mind.

This is madness! Faul thought. I was a warrior… now I’m a human in the hands of giants?!

He felt powerless, stripped of everything that once defined him. He had faced monsters and dragons, led armies, stood unshaken in the face of certain death. And now, he was helpless, crying in the arms of a man he could not understand.

A strange thought crossed his mind. Am I in hell?

Suddenly, the door flew open. A young man, maybe in his twenties, stumbled in, gasping for air, sweat dripping from his brow. Panic clung to him like smoke from a burning village.

“Sire!” he gasped. “They’ve breached the second defense line!”

The burly man’s smile vanished in an instant. His eyes sharpened and his entire demeanor shifted. He handed Faul back to the woman with swift urgency.

“What?!” he barked, his voice now edged with steel.

The woman’s eyes widened in horror. “No… not again,” she whispered, clutching Faul protectively.

The young soldier straightened himself as best he could. “General Scar awaits your orders. The Red Death is advancing quickly.”

Faul’s eyes snapped to the man who had just been holding him. Wait… General Scar?

The name echoed through his mind like a distant memory. It stirred something within him.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Frederick Scar, the current General of the Karaza Army, stood tall and unwavering at the frontlines of the city of Kaar.

Karaza was small, sturdy, and weathered by war. It was the final stronghold in a nation that had been slowly consumed by an ancient evil that refused to die.

For five centuries, Kaar had been under relentless attack. The enemy was not man or beast but something far worse, a dark force whispered across generations, a plague called the Red Death.

Those infected became vessels of power, their human limitations shattered. They grew stronger, faster, more deadly. But it came at a cost. Their souls, their reason, their humanity, all stripped away.

Legends spoke of the origin. A dragon, mighty and merciless. His name was Gag.

Once, dragons had been the guardians of balance and protectors of life. But Gag turned on them, filled with hatred and consumed by darkness. He sought annihilation, and the other dragons rose to stop him. But he was too powerful. He destroyed them all.

In desperation, the last alliance of knights, monks, and sorcerers came together to confront him. They could not kill him, but they forced him into eternal slumber. Before he fell, Gag unleashed a curse so vile that it infected the very fabric of the land.

A curse that would one day awaken him again… and finish what he started.

Now, five hundred years had passed. The curse still lived. The Red Death still spread. City after city fell, swallowed by corruption. Only Karaza remained at the forefront, the final barrier between survival and extinction.

And it was here that Frederick Scar, descendant of the original knights who had once stood against Gag, made his stand.

Back at headquarters, Frederick stood hunched over the war table, maps and reports scattered before him. His jaw clenched as he processed the news.

“They’ve breached the second line? Already?” he asked, barely able to contain the fire in his voice.

“Yes, General,” the same young man confirmed, his hands shaking slightly. “Our men are falling. The infected are evolving. They are faster. They are stronger. We lost two commanders in less than an hour.”

Frederick’s eyes narrowed like a blade drawn from its sheath. “Where’s Commander Veil?”

“Still holding the eastern wall, sir.”

“Then we fight,” Frederick said without hesitation. “We push back. I want the mages on the western flank and the archers ready by dawn. No one sleeps until that line is reinforced. If we lose the second wall, we lose the city. I’ll join the front myself if I have to.”

The soldier hesitated. “Sir, your son…”

Frederick paused, his eyes momentarily softening. He took a deep breath.

“My son will grow up in a free land,” he said firmly. “That is my promise to him. And I do not break promises.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Back in the nursery, Faul lay in his cradle, his tiny hands clenched into fists. His mind was still that of a seasoned warrior. He remembered it all, every detail. The smell of ash, the roar of dragons, the screams of his comrades. He remembered Azra. He remembered his death.

I remember it all… the final battle… the way the sky cracked open… the light that consumed me…

He shut his eyes, his heart heavy. Did I die? Is this reincarnation?

Footsteps approached. He opened his eyes to see the woman again, his mother in this new life, smiling down at him with love.

“You’re going to grow strong, my little Faul,” she said, brushing her fingers across his cheek.

They named me Faul…

“I hope you take after a great warrior from the old stories,” she said softly, her voice distant with memory. “Dragon of Azra.”

Faul’s eyes widened, though his body was still bound to infancy. So… the legend lived on? Even in this world?

The woman leaned down and kissed his forehead. “You’re safe now, my love. You’re home.”

But Faul knew better. He could feel it in the air, thick and oppressive. The tension. The fear. The silence between every spoken word. Whatever this Red Death was, it wasn’t just a plague. It was not just a curse.

It was a sign.

Gag was awakening.

And this time, Faul would rise again. Stronger. Smarter. And ready.