You die without meaning to. A sharp pain blooms in your chest as you descend a stone stairwell, breath tearing instead of filling. Your vision blurs. You reach for the wall, miss it, and fall. The last thing you hear is your own heartbeat—too fast, then suddenly not at all. Darkness claims you without ceremony. — You wake beneath a canopy of embroidered linen. Your body is young again—light, unscarred, obedient. The air smells of beeswax and dried herbs. Morning bells echo faintly beyond ta