He was shambling down an empty dirt road. While appearing Earthly, the place was in no way his home. The almost monochromatic colors gave it away. He woke up in this place what felt like aeons ago. His only possession was a broken sword, snapped directly in the middle.
A coughing fit overcame him and he fell to his knees. He was about to pass out when he felt a pair of hands grab him.
"It's a Son of God! The Judge of Souls is here!"
There was a bunch of commotion and multiple voices echoed out in disbelief. Soon, more hands grabbed at him and helped him stand up.
"Bring him some water! Quickly!"
They prepped him up against a tree to protect him from the blaring sun, a young man then took out a bottle of water and helped him drink out of it.
He shook his head and as his vision cleared he glanced at the group around him.
"Sorry for troubling you. I didn't realize I had gone without drinking for so long."
His formal apology was met with a warm laughter from the group.
"Anything for a Son of God such as yourself."
The man closest to him, the one who gave him water to drink, spoke in a tone that implied a feeling of respect.
"You seem to have me mistaken for someone I'm not."
The traveller spoke while trying to get off the ground.
"Are you not the Judge of Souls? From one of the highest triads?"
He chuckled at the question.
"That's a past life now."
They all stared in confusion when the youngest of the group gathered the courage to ask a question.
"...what is your name now, Sir?"
The traveller fixed his white hair. It looked soft like the wool of a sheep, it was in stark contrast to the sharp, piercing gaze of his red eyes.
"Abel… just Abel is fine."