Sam opened his eyes and did nothing for several seconds.
The ceiling in front of him was made of wood, with no lamp or fan, and the small dark spot he had been seeing above his bed for months because he had never felt like cleaning it was gone too.
He blinked.
’What?’
He tried to sit up and immediately felt something strange.
His body was far too light, so Sam looked down and saw that he had small hands.
He stared at them for several seconds, then opened and closed his fingers to make sure they worked.
He raised both hands in front of his face, and they were a child’s hands.
"What the hell!?"
His voice was wrong too, since it was much higher-pitched than normal.
Sam went completely still and remembered the monitor shutting off, then the electricity, then his legs no longer responding as he fell to the floor.
Finally, that female voice.
"We’ll see each other soon, dear."
Sam swallowed.
’Maybe I hit my head.’
It was a possibility.
Not a very convincing one, but it was still better than immediately accepting any other explanation.
He looked around, and the room was simple.
There was a wooden bed, a small wardrobe, a table beside the window, and a few toys that looked handmade.
There were no computers, no television, no outlets, and absolutely nothing Sam recognized as modern technology.
He got off the bed, or at least tried to, since his feet didn’t touch the floor.
Sam looked down.
"What?"
He slid to the edge and finally dropped.
"Ah!"
His legs were shorter than expected, and he ended up sitting on the floor.
He stayed like that for a few seconds.
’Perfect.’
He carefully stood up.
The body reacted strangely, since he wasn’t injured and didn’t feel any pain either.
It was simply small.
Sam walked toward a mirror beside the wardrobe, and at first he didn’t want to get too close, but then he took a deep breath.
’Just look.’
He stood in front of the mirror, and a child stared back at him from the other side.
Black hair, fair skin, a childish face, and dark eyes.
Sam moved one hand, and the child did the same.
He moved the other, and so did the child.
He opened his mouth, and the reflection repeated the action.
"No."
He moved a little closer.
"No, no, no!"
He touched his own face, and the skin was real, so he pinched himself.
"Ouch!"
He pulled his fingers away.
’That hurt.’
He could already rule out a normal dream.
Sam knew the typical idea of pinching yourself to wake up, although he had never expected to seriously use it.
Then he heard footsteps outside.
He stood still, the door opened, and a woman entered.
Sam looked up.
The woman was young and probably not even thirty.
She had long dark hair, fair skin, and an expression that started calm before immediately changing when she saw him out of bed.
"Draven."
Sam didn’t answer, and the woman approached.
"What was all that noise?"
’Draven?’
Sam kept watching her, and she crouched down in front of him.
"Are you feeling okay?"
It took Sam several seconds to answer.
"Yes."
The woman touched Sam’s forehead.
"You don’t have a fever."
Sam still didn’t take his eyes off her.
’Did she call me Draven?’
That name sounded familiar, but he still didn’t want to jump to any conclusions.
"Mom?"
The word came out almost experimentally, and the woman raised an eyebrow.
"What is it, son?"
Sam felt his stomach tighten.
’Great.’
The woman fixed his hair.
"You slept too long, and your father was worried."
’Father...’
Sam needed information, but he had to get it without looking completely insane.
"My father?"
The woman looked at him strangely.
"Yes, your dad."
The woman watched him in silence for a moment and then spoke.
"Draven."
Sam, who was now called Draven, reacted.
"Yes."
"Are you sure you’re okay?"
"I’m just a little confused."
She touched his forehead again.
"Maybe you slept too long."
Draven needed to confirm a few more things.
"Mom, what was your name...?"
The woman’s expression changed completely.
"Draven, you’re already 7 years old. There’s no way you still haven’t learned my name."
"It’s just that I never call you by your name."
She narrowed her eyes and eventually answered.
"My name is Kali and, just in case, your father’s name is Kevar."
Sam felt a chill.
’No way.’
Kali sighed.
"I’m going to call your father."
"No."
He answered too quickly, so she stopped and Draven thought fast.
"I mean... there’s no need. I’m fine now."
"You just asked me what my name was."
"I was still half asleep."
Kali seemed to consider it and then smiled.
"That makes more sense."
Draven slowly let out his breath.
’Good thing she didn’t think about it too much...’
"I’m going downstairs."
"Alright, your father is making breakfast."
Kali left the room, and Draven waited until the door closed before turning back toward the mirror.
"Draven."
His reflection remained in front of him.
"Could I actually be Draven Dunvyr?"
He remembered that last name perfectly, since he had seen it many times, but Draven wasn’t one of the most famous characters in the game.
In fact, he was fairly certain Draven Dunvyr wasn’t even relevant for much of the main story.
But Sam had played for more than a thousand hours, read side texts, found documents, and completed optional quests that almost nobody did.
He recognized the last name.
’Dunvyr.’
Draven looked at his hands again.
’No, not yet.’
He still needed proof, something impossible to explain as a coincidence, so he left the room.
The hallway was narrow and built entirely of wood.
He carefully went down a set of stairs, since every step seemed far too high.
’Seven.’
Draven was seven years old, and if he really was who he thought he was...
"Ah!"
He nearly tripped, but grabbed the railing.
"Damn body."
"What did you say?"
Draven raised his head, and a man was standing at the bottom of the stairs.
He had dark hair, a strong build, and was holding a plate with both hands.
Draven recognized him despite never having seen him like this before.
It was Kevar Dunvyr, and although there weren’t many clear illustrations of the character in the game, the name was enough.
"Good morning, Draven."
Kevar said, and Draven finished coming down the stairs.
"Good morning, Dad."
Kevar watched him.
"Your mother said you were confused."
"I’m fine now."
"You sure?"
"Yes."
Kevar placed the plate on a table.
"Then sit down before Kali thinks I’m letting you starve."
"I heard that."
Kali answered from another room, and Kevar froze.
"I knew you were there."
"Sure."
Draven looked from one to the other.
He had read in the side quests that Kevar was Kali’s human husband, although whether he had freely chosen to become her husband was debatable.
Draven remembered texts from within the game.
Some characters mentioned that Kali had practically decided she was going to marry Kevar and then made sure he agreed.
’It wasn’t an especially romantic story.’
Kali entered carrying a pitcher.
"Sit down."
Draven obeyed beside Kevar, and Kali poured a clear drink.
Draven looked at it.
"What is it?"
"Milk."
"Ah."
He drank some, and it was normal.
That almost annoyed him, since he had expected at least something to have a strange explanation.
Then Kevar raised one hand, and a small blue light appeared above his fingers.
Draven’s eyes widened as Kevar moved his hand toward a small kettle, and the liquid began to heat up.
Draven remained still, and Kevar looked at him.
"What is it, Draven?"
Draven pointed at his hand.
"That."
Kevar looked at it too.
"This?"
"Yes."
The light disappeared.
"It’s my magic for heating objects."
Draven knew the answer, but hearing it still shocked him.
’That means...’