The darkness was suffocating. It seemed to have swallowed up everything. All the light, all the warmth, all the sound: everything was gone. 'Is this death?' Naythen wondered to himself, unable to speak the words aloud.

However, there was no answer. He didn't expect one, of course, but it was disappointing nonetheless. 'Shouldn't the ferryman Charon be waiting to take me across the Acheron river to the underworld? Or should I be faced with pearly gates and Saint Peter's judgement? Or dissolved into nothingness because there's no afterlife?'

Being left alone with his thoughts was maddening. Oblivion would have been preferable - at least then he wouldn't be able to think. Naythen pondered many things. Religion. God. Science. Humanity. Love. Companionship. He felt as though he should be crying, mourning the life he'd lost. Instead, he just felt numb. And bored.

Time no longer held meaning. Naythen tried counting to fill the void, but the interminable enumeration fell apart into fractal nonsense somewhere around the 1.5 million mark. He tried singing every song he could remember, but they soon began to blend into each other in an horrific medley of mental noise. The words no longer held meaning. The human experience was no longer valid.

'I don't know how long it's been. I don't know why I'm here. I don't remember who I am...' His thoughts were crumbling and the numbness was giving way to distress. 

'Someone?' 

'Anyone?' 

'Please?'

 

Desperation was creeping in. 

 

Warmth. 

A comforting feeling, like a gentle embrace, encompassed him. It was a maternal sensation. Nostalgia swept over Naythen's soul and images of his youth flooded his consciousness. It was heart-wrenching, being reminded of a time when the world was still so new and fascinating and full of light and love. But there was a sweetness to it, as well. Reliving those events reminded him of the pure joy of discovery and the appreciation of the moment. So many events played though his mind's eye, almost as though another will was browsing through his memories like episodes of a series on Netflix.

The images moved into his teenage years and whatever force was driving this recollection seemed to slow down, paying extra care to draw out moments of self-discovery and personal growth. Naythen relived the moment he became interested in pagan belief systems - the days upon days of reading, web-searching, and introspective meditation. He re-experienced his first connection with Athena, her guidance and her will. 

There was an explosion of light and a moment of searing pain that momentarily blinded Naythen's thoughts. It was followed by a bone-chilling cold. There was a cloying, wet sensation that carried the icy pain throughout the body. For the first time in what felt like eons, there was feeling. The intensity was magnified by the sudden transition from nothingness to being. There was so much sensory information pouring in that it seemed as though something important was being forgotten. 

 

"Breathe."

It was a woman's voice. It didn't sound particularly mature, but it lacked the naivete of youth. It was, however, very forceful in its tone. Moreso when the command was repeated. 

 

"Breathe!" 

Air rushed into lungs that felt as though they'd never been used. This, too, was pain. But it was a liberating pain. It was the invigorating agony of life. After everything Naythen had just experienced, the awareness of self was just too much. At the razor-thin border between sensation and insanity, Naythen's mind was playing a dangerous game of walking the line.

"Sleep," the voice commanded. 

Darkness enveloped Naythen once more, but this time it was warm and comforting.

Naythen slept. 

***

A cold, wet nudging stirred Naythen from his slumber. His eyelids fluttered open and he squinted against the yellow light that filled the room. A number of candles had been lit and set around the perimeter of the room, illuminating every corner and chasing shadows from the nooks and crannies. From where he was lying, a large furry figure stood to his left, its head reaching over the edge of the bed and its huge, golden eyes sparkling with happiness. 

Naythen couldn't call it a 'dog.' It stood on four feet, but its fur stood out thickly like that of a raccoon or red panda. Its face was very angular, with a narrow nose that came to a pointed tip at the end of a long muzzle and broad triangle-shaped ears that jutted from the sides of its head. Its appearance gave Naythen a start, and he jerked suddenly away from the beast, pulling the covers on the bed up defensively. 

With his left arm, he reached out to wave the creature away. "Shoo! Shoo!" 

Who was that? 

"Go away!" Naythen said insistently in a voice that was not his own. It was much softer and a bit higher in pitch. It wasn't exactly 'cute' but it was definitely more feminine. Confused, Naythen put a hand to his throat but didn't couldn't find the familiar jut of his Adam's apple. He threw off the covers and looked down at himself in a panic, desperately trying to piece together what had happened. From what he could see, his body was slender, more on the petite side. He was wearing some sort of eggshell-colored linen gown that buttoned down the front. The sleeves extended to the wrists and were buttoned at the cuffs. His hands were noticeably smaller. Not significantly so, but plenty enough for him to recognize the difference. The thin fingers ended in well-manicured nails. 

Naythen ran his hands down his body, checking for other changes. The most noticeable variance was the two soft mounds on his chest. They weren't very large, but certainly could not be confused for anything but breasts. Naythen's hands snaked further downward, patting in on a thin, narrow waist followed by modest hips. Finally, he shoved his right hand down to his groin, but the ordinary sensation of extra flesh was gone, replaced by... 

"Yip!" The animal that had so rudely awoken him sat down on its haunches, regarding Naythen with a curiously-cocked head and expectant eyes. Its long, bushy tail flipped up periodically in excited half-wags. 

Naythen blinked in confusion. 'What's going on, here?' he thought to himself. 'This is not my body and I have no idea what this animal is or where I am...' He looked around the room with a more discerning eye. It was on the smaller side, just large enough to hold the narrow bed on which he lay as well as a short chest of drawers, a bookcase that stood roughly as tall as a man and laden with many thick leather-bound tomes inscribed with unfamiliar text, and a small table with two chairs situated on the opposite wall from the only door. It was the door that caught Naythen's attention. It opened inward and stood wide open, revealing a dark hallway without.

"Hello?" Naythen called out, wincing slightly at the unusual sound of his voice. It was almost like speaking after breathing helium - the sound was alien to his own ears and felt as though it was coming from someone else entirely. 

There was a shuffling noise followed by a series of light footsteps that gradually increased in volume. After a moment, a woman's head peered around the door frame. "Ah! Our little river princess has finally awoken!" the woman said cheerfully with a friendly smile. 

Naythen studied the woman as she stepped fully into the doorway. Her round face was framed by shoulder-length blonde hair that drew the eyes down to a simple, brown short-sleeved ankle-length dress. She was a thicker woman, and her dress was cinched at the waist to emphasize her ample curve. Naythen guessed her to be in her mid-thirties although her face appeared more youthful. 

"Where am I?" Naythen asked. 

"This, my dear, is one of the dorm rooms of the Listern Church. You were brought here a few days ago after Nallus, here, found you down by the river! Poor thing, you didn't have a lick of clothing on you and you were shivering in the cold!" The woman's boisterous voice was a jarring contrast to the seemingly endless silence of the void.

Naythen turned his head to regard the strange animal still seated next to the bed. "This... is Nallus? What is he?" 

The woman frowned. "Why, he's a meylarn, of course! Haven't you never seen a meylarn before?" 

"I don't think I've ever seen one," Naythen replied guardedly.

The woman stepped into the room and ran a hand affectionately over Nallus's head. "Well, that doesn't make any sense. I'd say at least half the houses in the village have one. I've heard that nobles in the city sometimes have a whole pack of them!" She sat down on the foot of the bed, facing Naythen with confusion written plainly on her face. "How could you have never met a meylarn?" 

Naythen put a hand to his head, overcome by all this new information. "I'm sorry, I don't know..." he said weakly. 

The woman leaned toward Naythen and felt the side of his face with the back of her hand. Her expression softened into concern. "You're not running a fever, so you should be recovering soon. Are you hungry? It's past dinner, but I can bring you something small to eat." 

Naythen turned his attention inward for a moment and realized that he felt a sharp emptiness in his stomach. As if in response, his stomach growled loudly. "Well, that answers that," he said sheepishly. 

The woman laughed and stood up, nudging Nallus on the back. "All right, then. I'll be right back with a bit of food. Come on, Nallus!" She walked out of the room towards the right with Nallus in tow. 

Naythen lay back against his pillow and stared up at the ceiling. It was difficult to tell, but the walls appeared to have a plaster coating while the ceiling was constructed of naked wood beams supporting a peaked roof. There were no windows or openings, so the only information that Naythen had regarding the time of the day was the woman's reference to dinner in the past tense. He took a deep breath, desperately trying to process everything that was going on. 

'Was I... reborn? No, I have all my memories of my previous life and no memory of a family or history here. Transmigrated? That makes more sense, but how? Isn't that just something that happens in anime and light novels?' While Naythen continued to ponder this turn of events, the stout woman returned, carrying a wooden plate of food and a stoneware cup. 

"Here you go, love," she said, placing the items on the small table at the far wall. "No rush, now, take it nice and slow. You've been in bed for three days, so you shouldn't push yourself too hard." Her tone of genuine concern was ingratiating and Naythen found himself liking this woman more and more. She reminded him of a kind aunt.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and was startled to see that his gown only extended to the middle of his thighs. He felt over-exposed and tugged down at the hem self-consciously as he stood up.

"Come, come, no need to be shy. Nothing but women in the dorms, so you needn't worry about anyone seeing your pretty little legs," the woman said in a light-hearted tone. 

Naythen turned his head to look at his benefactor when he realized something startling. This woman stood a full head taller than him! Bewildered, he looked up at the objects around the room, trying to gauge his height. It was difficult to be exact, but he seemed to be just a bit taller than Natalie... perhaps a few inches or so. Disorientation overwhelmed him and he began to feel dizzy. 

The woman, realizing something was off, quickly caught Naythen by the shoulders and guided him to the closer of the two chairs at the table. "Woah, there, love! Can't have you falling down just as soon as you've gotten up!" she exclaimed. 

Nodding wordlessly, Naythen took the seat and looked at the food on the table. There was a slice of thick, grainy bread next to a chunk of yellow-white cheese, some sort of purplish berries or grapes, and what appeared to be a length of cured meat. The cup was filled with fresh, clear water. It was a simple meal, but it was enough to make his mouth water and his stomach grumble in anticipation. 

Before he could begin to eat, however, the woman sat in the chair across from him and clasped her hands together in prayer, closing her eyes and bowing her head slightly. Not wishing to be rude, Naythen imitated the woman's posture and closed his eyes, as well. Unwilling to give praise to a foreign god, Naythen instead chose to offer silent thanks to the only deity he knew - Athena. 

He opened his eyes and saw his companion smiling widely, presumably at his display of piety. Naythen proceeded to eat the food, using every ounce of willpower to keep himself from simply inhaling it. The bread was stiff and dry with a strange bittersweet flavor and he found himself grateful for the water. The fruit went down more easily, filled with a juicy sweetness that put Naythen in mind of blackberries. The cheese and the meat paired well together, the mild creaminess of the dairy complementing the salty flavor of the beef-like meat. 

The woman watched wordlessly as Naythen ate his meal, finally moving to collect the plate and cup when both were empty. She hesitated on her way to the door. "Oh my goodness, where are my manners? I completely forgot to introduce myself!" she said suddenly. She turned to face Naythen with a somewhat more formal smile. "My name is Berna Blackfall, Second Priestess of the Listern Church. You can just call me Berna. Everyone else in the village does!" 

Naythen froze. He had no idea how to introduce himself. With no clear idea of the naming customs of this land, he wasn't sure how foreign - or masculine - his name might sound. His mind scrambled for a different name, one that might attract less attention or confusion than his given name. His eyes widened as anxiety welled up in his chest. 'What do I do? I have to give a name... I can't be rude to someone who rescued me!' 

"Pallas," he felt himself say aloud. He frowned, uncertain why he had spoken that name. It was one of the epithets associated with the goddess Athena. He knew there were a couple different sources for the name, but the most popular origin spoke of a daughter of Triton who was a childhood friend and rival of Athena. The two were engaged in a mock battle at an athletics festival and, due to intervention from Zeus, Pallas had been momentarily distracted and failed to dodge Athena's spear. In grief, Athena created a wooden statue to honor her fallen friend and added Pallas's name to her own. The name is often translated as 'maiden.' Naythen frowned at that realization.

"Pallas," Berna repeated. "That's a pretty name. I think it suits you!" The older woman nodded matter-of-factly and resumed her exit from the room. "Well, Pallas, you should try and get some more rest. Tomorrow, we're going to take you to see the mayor!"

Naythen watched Berna leave before quietly climbing back into the bed, practically cocooned in the blankets. Nothing made much sense and right now, the escape of sleep was particularly enticing. It wasn't long before sleep came.