𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒 : 𝚜𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚗

Death on earth was just as people said it would be. Anticipated, yet feared and craved at the same time. Something that everyone and everything had to face eventually, you included.

However, the afterlife was definitely not some sort of heavenly paradise like everyone said. Rather, it was a vast bronze palace surrounded by black space and stars. A handsome man's head perched atop little squishy white creatures, who seemed to be maneuvering his bodyless form around the room.

And you, a tiny little human lying at the mercy of the head, barely a sixteenth of his size. But his blue skin crinkled as his mouth formed into a soft smile, one that showed no intention of harm.

"I need someone to take all this extra Rukh, and perhaps watch over a dear friend of mine as well. Could you do that?"

White butterflies of all shapes and sizes glowed and surrounded you. Their warmth was kind, and familiar. Somehow their fluttering gave a sense of belonging, something foreign on the planet you'd come from. The desire for them to stay welled up inside your heart, the urge bubbling and begging you to say yes.

So without another thought, you were swept away by the light. A new chance at a better life awaits you in a world carved from thieves, kings, and commoners alike. So what is your role exactly?

Be the spurious wiseman, the imposter amongst kings-makers.

Or:

Ugo gets says screw it and takes your soul from another world to make an artificial magi.