The first thing Soren heard was the cheerful sound of birds twittering while a cool breeze of wind swept across face lightly. Darkness was the only thing in front of him while a dance of colors separated and conjoined under his eyelids. Underneath him he felt something soft, his body sunk into it. Slowly, he opened them and the darkness was replaced with a dimly lit white ceiling with beautiful carvings of roses etched into it. In the middle of some of the roses there were gems that seemed to glow with a dim light. 

‘Magic stones’ his brain unhelpfully supplied him. 

But that didn’t make sense. None of this made sense. The ceiling he was staring at was something he was familiar with for almost his entire life. It was the ceiling of his bedroom in the Larmalli’s main house. However, he shouldn’t be seeing any of this. 

The last thing he saw was a blue sky as he was falling to his death. His body should be but an insignificant stain on the execution ground. Not…not this. Soren continued to stare at the ceiling as the confusion set in. Maybe he was dreaming? 

This had to be an illusion created for him by the god of death to be stuck in until he was judged and sent to heaven or hell, right? It had to be…it had to. He couldn’t be reborn again. Subconsciously, Soren started to deny everything he was seeing. A horrible feeling of dread filled him. Slowly, Soren brought his hands in front of his face. 

They were shaking. His hand was slender and white. The skin was practically translucent as he could make out the veins running underneath his skin. There were no iron shackles on his wrists. 

‘There's no wounds’ 

Soren’s brain froze before everything came crashing down. That meant he came back, again. Back to this horrible hell decorated in jewels and luxury. To live with the people who peeled back his skin to cut away at his heart little by little. A burst of panic filled him. 

‘NO!’ 

He ripped the covers off his body and launched himself off the bed toward the gilded standing mirror in front of it. Shaking hands gripped both sides of the mirror as his appearance finally came into view. Long, platinum blond hair fell in soft waves down past his shoulders and stopped at the middle of his back. His skin was white and smooth with no blemishes in sight. Vibrant, almost glowing, blue eyes stared back at him through the mirror's surface. 

Soren went completely still. He definitely did not look like this. In his cell, he found a piece of glass hidden in the crack of the wall that, he assumed, was left by the last inmate a couple months into his imprisonment. At the time his hair was already matted with grime to the point it was black and his face was covered in so many lacerations that he hardly looked human. After that, he never looked at himself again. But either way, he definitely did not look at this.

So that meant he was really back. His panic receded and slowly his hands fell away from the mirror. Silently, he stood in front of the mirror. Helpless anger started to rise inside his heart. Why did he come back? 

The only wish he ever made to god was to stay dead and that wasn’t even granted. A cry of frustration burned inside his throat as his eyes stung with unshed tears. Did he not deserve something like death? Was that the reason? To suffer for the amusement of others? 

‘I can’t do this again’ 

Tears started to fall from his eyes. He couldn’t smile in the face of his siblings' laughter as they mocked and tricked him into life or death situations. His obsession for his fathers approval has crumbled and turned into sand. Longing for his mother’s gentle eyes has already shattered. And now he had to play the part of a beaten dog that still wagged its tail at the person who beat it in the first place. 

He didn’t want to see them. Soren didn’t believe he had it in him anymore. A dull knock echoed throughout the room, bringing him back to the present. His body tensed up and he held his breath unconsciously. Years of being in prison conditioned him to freeze as to let the guards not notice his presence in order to escape any unsupervised torture and…unsaviory acts.

Since the guards spent almost their entire life down in the dungeons they didn’t really care about the gender as long as they looked good. There was another knock on the door. 

“Young master?” a muffled, confused voice came from the opposite side of the door. 

‘A maid. It’s just a maid,’ Soren reminded himself. 

His tense muscles started to slowly relax and he wiped away the tears on his face. 

“Young master, it's time to get up. There’s a visitor for you at the gate,” the muffled voice came from the other side of the door again, “If you don’t get up you’ll be late,” the door started to open.

Immediately, Soren tore his gaze away from the mirror and toward the door. 

“Don’t come in!” Soren exclaimed with a strict tone. 

The door stopped, only open a little bit to fit a hand through. There was a surprised silence. 

“Young master?” questioned the maid. 

Soren sighed a bit in his heart. He didn’t want anyone to come in and see him at the moment. Though the maids didn’t know him very well they would still understand something was wrong with him. After all, if someone as dense as himself was aware of his own change, people who’ve dealt with him somewhat would be able to point it out. Plus, the maid shouldn’t have tried to barge into his room in the first place.

If she wanted to enter he would first have to allow her to. It was considered etiquette in any noble's house let alone there's. But then again, he wasn’t really the “young master” so he wasn’t that surprised that it happened. 

“I can get dressed by myself. As for the guest, bring him to the foyer. I’ll be there shortly,” he responded back. 

Though quiet, he heard the maid let out a sigh of relief. 

“Yes young master.” 

The door closed with a soft click and the sound of the maid's heels got farther and farther away from his room before disappearing altogether. Soren let out a soft sigh and turned back toward the mirror. Though brief, the short exchange allowed him to calm down. Looking at his appearance Soren noted that he should be around 18 years-old. That means he had already missed the age to awaken an element for the second time. 

The second time he was reborn was when he was 8 so he was two years past the minimum age and two years away from the maximum age. So, at least, he had a little time to awaken his element. But this time he was already 8 years past the maximum age and his parents, like in the first life, have already completely given up on him. Tearing his eyes away from the mirror he walked away from the mirror and walked into his closet. It was the same size as his bedroom. 

Clothes he’s never worn once, with some still in neat black bags, lined all four walls with a mirror placed in the middle with a lounge and a side table beside it. His parents installed it shortly after his 15th birthday to make up for not attending his birthday with him. Like the size of this was enough to make up for their lack of attention and care. Funnily enough, back then it was. He really believed they were thinking about him and at the time he was ecstatic. 

At the time he didn’t realize every noble by default had something this size and even bigger. A wry smile adorned his features as he walked in and towards the far wall. He glanced at the newly wrapped clothes before pulling out the outfit he usually wore when he trained with the knights. It consisted of a white skin tight long-sleeved undershirt, high waisted brown pants that tied in the back, a thin short-sleeved white tunic with a green hem that tied at the waist at the side and stopped just above the curve of his butt, and flat knee length black boots. The bottom of his boots had smudges of dirt but he didn’t really care. 

As he looked at himself in the mirror he debated tying his hair before pulling out a black ribbon and putting all his hair into a high ponytail. It was a little crooked but he threw it to the back of his mind as he made his way out of the closet toward his bedroom door. Since he was already 18 that meant, following the first life, that his lover, Aziel Wolfbrook, had been cheating on him with his younger brother, Alessandre, for 3 years already. Every time he came to the mansion he used the the excuse that he missed him and every time Soren would stupidly and excitedly get dressed up for him. Soren walked out of his bedroom, closed the door, and walked down the hall toward the foyer. 

As it was relatively early in the morning, there were only a few servants cleaning the floor and windows. They paid him no attention as he walked past. The entire day would usually consist of Aziel whispering sweet nothings to him while at night he would go to his brother’s room. So, Soren was pretty sure he knew who the guest was. And there was no point dressing up for him anymore. 

silverkittie

So this is a pic I found on pintrest that I think Soren would look like (this picture is not created or owned by me). Not to girly but also not terribly manly. I don't exactly know who the author is but if anyone can make it out I'll update this and put a link to them.

Update: The lovely bafflinghaze pointed out that the cursive was a signature and underneath it I believe is @Ddolddo88. They also were nice of enough to provide the link (which is much appreciated). For people who don't know how to operate twitter like me you can find them with this link - https://twitter.com/ddolddo88/status/1401092731263340544?t=z_5wzp5yrQUKOXjTUb9ddQ&s=19.