1 Transmigration

"Hey, Maximus! I didn't hit you too hard there did I?"

Pain, that was the first thing Maximus felt when he gained his senses. Grasping towards the problem area, something warm came to his senses. As he moved his hand in front of his face he saw a crimson liquid which became apparent was blood. Struggling to support his body to stand, he briefly scanned his surroundings. It seemed like he was in some sort training area as the ground was all trodden on in a fenced area.

Slightly in the distance he could see a village. Maximus continued looking around in a daze and a weathered middle aged man came jogging up to him.

"Hey Maximus, are you alright?"

Just as the man was about to go on he saw the blood on maximus's hand.

"By the gods, you should have said something earlier if I was too rough to start with I would have held back some more."

Still confused by the current situation Maximus was going to ask what exactly was going on, but before he could voice himself a strange soft voice filled his mind.

"This is all I can do for you for now." His body was reacting to the voice as soon as the sentence finished and Maximus lost consciousness.

After some time had past Maximus slowly opened his eyes. He realized after a moment he was in a bed made of hardwood with straw for bedding, and he was in a small partitioned room with one nightstand made of shabby wood.

Struggling to get himself out of bed he discovered he had strange memories. Recognizing the people and places but feeling as if they weren't his. Yet he knew his name, Maximus. The name was ingrained into his very being.

Thoughts continued to raced through his head while he still wondered what was happening. But before he could come to any conclusion on them someone walked into the room.

"Oh, good you're awake, for a second I thought I might have killed you."

Looking towards the sound of the voice he realized it was the same man that he saw earlier. After a second he put a name to the voice. Crispus. The man who raised him after his mother passed away when he was young. According to his memories Crispus used to be an Imperial guard who raised him after his mother died.

When he was a young she would tell him stories about his father who was a great man who was close friend's with both Crispus and the then-emperor. But instead of being freely able to boast about what a great man his father was his mother made him swear to her and the god's above to never speak of it to anyone, and despite his questioning Crispus never told him about his past either.

Snapping him out of his memories Crispus placed his hand upon Maximus's forehead.

"Well you don't have a fever anymore that's good. This little village of ours can't afford a priest to come out here and heal you next time. Be more careful. "

After stepping back and placing a hot bowl of broth on the nightstand Crispus saw the incredulous look on Maximus's face and after a moment Crispus remembered it was in fact him who caused the injury.

"Ah haha, well either way this will have to put a brief halt to your warrior training. Can't have you fainting in the middle of sparring again. After you fully recover we'll continue, and drink that soup, its a recipe from my days in the legion. " Before walking out Crispus brought his right fist to his heart and smiled at Maximus.

Once again left alone Maximus recalled he currently lives in a village called Inanis within the Krastus province of the Allyian Empire.

Despite his best efforts Maximus couldn't recall anything more than that.

"I still feel strange though. How come I don't have any strong attachment to anyone, despite my memories?"

After taking a sip from the bowl it tasted meaty and gave him a slight vigor even though nothing of substance in the broth. Taking a few more sips of it he solemnly stared at the remaining broth.

" How come I feel so… empty?"

Silently staring at the broth for some time his question was answered by the strange voice from earlier.

"Because your soul is inherently confused. Torn between different realms, leaving you without a clear purpose."

Startled by the answer he got to his question, his eyes widened in awe. He could sense a presence of someone but he was confused as to who exactly was talking.

"Who said that where are you?" Anxiously looking around the room Maximus waited for a reply.

"Stifle yourself. I must be brief as I can feel my power fading, and I've used a large majority of my power transmigrating a soul to inhabit this vessel."

Processing what the voice was saying, Maximus realized that meant this wasn't his original body.

"Different realms, huh?" Repeating it to himself Maximus had a revelation.

"Wait a moment please. If you're saying I transmigrated, how come I can't recall anything of my previous body? Shouldn't I have at least some scrap of memory of my previous life."

Sounding almost annoyed by the question the voice acquiesced in reply.

"As I've stated it took a large majority of my power to bring your soul here. But to answer your question in a more direct manner you were already dead, and death is a wound directly to the soul itself. Leaving you without many memories to begin with."

Realizing what the voice was saying made sense Maximus nodded.

Seeing that the answer was satisfactory the voice continued on.

"But by bringing you to this world your destiny has been forged, the gods of this realm will find you and you won't be tolerated to live. But I'll give you a second chance at life."

With that last statement Maximus felt a burning sensation in his chest and grasped at his chest in agony. Looking down he could see a strange symbol carved into his solar plexus it looked as if it was charred on by some kind of fire. Howling in agony from the recoil the pain was soothed over by a cool feeling that enveloped his entire body.

"Seek out an apostate, and they will guide you on the path of your destiny."

With that last statement the voice faded from existence seemingly gone forever. After the shock from the pain Maximus slowly lost consciousness again, but not before he heard footsteps in the distance quickly making their way towards him.