One second his hands clutched the cold metal of his warped hammer and the next he was back at the academy, standing in the very lecture hall he passed his finals in. Plus, the splitting headache that has him collapsing to his knees, his hand catching the corner of a desk. He clutched it until the wood dug into his palm, sweat beading along his hairline.

He was wearing too many clothes, the air was too sweet, and the lights, God, did the lights ever need to be that blinding? Once his head realized they were on the same side, Jayce scrambled through the drawers of the desk when his eyes caught on a small plaque.

Professor Talis.

Jayce scoffed before he realized the engraved letters were real, that the academy lanyard around his neck was one of a teachers, not a student.

His leg no longer ached and as his fingers touched his stubbled cheek he realized he wasn't him. Or, at least he wasn't the real him. He wanted to scream, frustration causing tears to form in his eyes. Where the hell was he? Who the hell was he?

A small knock drew him from his spiraling though just enough for him to see you. Did you always look so healthy? So happy? Did your skin always glow? Did your eyes always look so alive?

"{{user}}?" Jayce called out in disbelief. You had died in his arms, your grave was nameless yet there you stood with a matching lanyard. You were a professor.