A bottomless silence, without shape or direction. No body. No time. Only the distant echo of a voice…
A voice that did not belong to this world.
“Go… and live the way you were always meant to live.”
The words reverberated—soft as a caress, heavy with destiny.
And then… light.
A flash.
A heartbeat.
A blink.
Sora opened his eyes with a start.
The first thing he saw was an unfamiliar wooden ceiling. The oak grain, old and twisted, creaked softly with the wind.
He didn’t recognize it. He didn’t know where he was.
No…
He didn’t know who he was.
Or rather… he didn’t yet know who he had been.
A barely perceptible click—as if something inside him had clicked into place—lanced through his head with sudden, sharp, brutal pain.
“Ah—!”
The world spun.
His body trembled.
His pupils widened.
And in an instant, a tide of memories crashed into him like a river in flood.
Schools. Skyscrapers. Neon lights.
Laughter. Tears.
Astaria. Her light. Her judgment.
Adriel. Himself.
His death.
His rebirth.
His mission.
His name.
Everything began to fit together like pieces of a puzzle buried under six years of innocence.
Sora… no.
Adriel.
That was his name. His life. His story.
But he was also Sora now.
And the interlocking of both souls sealed with a final click in that moment.
Seconds passed. Maybe minutes.
He didn’t move. He didn’t take a deep breath. He just lay there, staring at the ceiling as if it were the farthest sky in the universe.
His eyes, open as if he’d just been born, shone with a mix of confusion, fear, and… understanding.
Until, finally, he blinked.
And the silence broke.
He came back to himself at last. His breathing, erratic until then, slowly evened out.
Sora—or Adriel—turned his face just a little and sighed.
His thoughts were a whirlwind, but from within that storm one certainty surfaced:
He was alive.
Carefully, he raised his right hand.
It was small.
Tiny.
His fingers were slender and soft—no calluses, no strength.
The hand of a child… his own.
He looked at it as if for the first time.
And it was.
A shiver ran down his back.
He lowered the hand toward his face with the automatic motion of someone trying to rub the sleep from his eyes, but the moment his fingers grazed his forehead… he felt it.
Something solid.
Strange.
Cold to the touch—and part of him.
A subtle lump that hadn’t existed in his former life.
What is this?
He thought in surprise, probing his forehead more carefully. But before he could fully explore it, a soft movement at his side interrupted him.
A figure slowly sat up beside him on the bed.
Sora turned his face… and his eyes met those of an unfamiliar woman.
Or at least, she was unfamiliar to Adriel.
But to Sora…
That gaze, that aura, that quiet warmth… were the purest refuge he knew.
The woman watched him in silence for a few seconds. Her face was beautiful—soft, elegant features—but what struck him most were the strange blue markings on her skin… and a navy-blue horn jutting from her forehead.
The scene froze for an instant.
Then her eyes—those large, crystalline eyes—began to well.
Without another word, she wrapped both arms around him and held him tight, as if afraid he might disappear again.
“You woke up…” she whispered, her voice breaking. “You really woke up…”
“I was very worried about you, Sora…”
“I thought you wouldn’t wake up…”
The warmth of that embrace, the tremor in her voice, the soft scent of her hair…
All of it was new to Adriel.
But at the same time, it was home to Sora.
And in that moment…
for the first time since he opened his eyes,
Sora hugged her back.
The embrace lingered. Warm. Steady. Alive.
As if the heat of two arms around him could keep the uncertainty at bay.
But as his body calmed, his mind went back to work…
And then, a phrase spoken seconds earlier echoed in his head, unsettling:
“I thought you wouldn’t wake…”
Sora’s heart gave a small jolt.
Wouldn’t wake? What did she mean? Had he been asleep longer than normal? What exactly had happened?
When the woman—his mother, Tsukari—finally let him go, he lifted his gaze, still feeling the warm weight of the embrace.
“Mother,” he said in a soft, childlike voice, yet with a seriousness that didn’t belong to his age. “What happened?”
Why… wouldn’t I wake?
Tsukari looked at him in silence for a moment.
Her eyes narrowed just a little. The pain in her gaze was still there, but it was suddenly covered by a protective tenderness.
She smiled… as if she didn’t want to burden him with more than necessary.
“It’s nothing, Sora.
You’re fine… and that’s what matters.”
She stroked his head gently.
“It was a hard night, but you… you were stronger than all of it.”
Those words only deepened his doubts.
What really happened?
What had been so serious that it made my mother think I wouldn’t wake?
But Tsukari said nothing more.
She stood, with an almost otherworldly grace, and tucked her long white hair behind her ear as a light sigh escaped her.
“You must be hungry, son.
I’ll go see if breakfast is ready.”
And without waiting for an answer, she left the room with unhurried steps.
Sora stayed there, sitting on the bed, his gaze lost for a moment.
The memory of his death still drifted like a ghost behind his eyes. Astaria’s name, the radiance of her power… the ache of that farewell…
And now, he was in a small body, with a new family, and with more questions than answers.
What was that hard night?
Why does no one else remember anything?
Why does this body… have something strange on my forehead?
He brought his hand to the horn that barely jutted from his head again.
It still felt alien. But… it was part of him.
Silence filled the room once more after Tsukari left.
Sora lingered on the bed a moment longer, his gaze still fixed on the wooden ceiling. But something inside him—curiosity, anxiety, or simple childish energy—pushed him to move.
He sat on the edge of the mattress, lowered his feet to the floor, and noticed for the first time how short his legs were.
He stood carefully, wobbling a little under the weight and balance of a body that no longer felt like his.
I’m… small. Very small.
He took a few slow steps. The floor creaked beneath his bare feet, warm with the morning light slipping through the curtains.
As he crossed the room, a thought crossed his mind:
What a spacious room…
I guess my parents really are high-ranking nobles.
There were fine details in the carved wood, well-kept furniture, a rug embroidered with golden motifs.
He moved toward the window, curious to see the world beyond.
But he couldn’t reach it.
He craned his neck. Stood on tiptoe.
Nothing.
Tsk… I forgot I’m six years old.
He clicked his tongue, annoyed with himself. He turned halfway with a resigned sigh… and then he saw it.
In the corner near the window, a full-length mirror rested, slightly tilted against the wall.
Sora approached without thinking, cautious steps, as if the reflection he was about to see might bite him.
And there it was.
A boy.
Hair white as freshly fallen snow.
Pale skin, almost translucent.
Faint markings on his cheeks, like his mother’s, but less defined—as if still forming.
And right at the center of his forehead…
a small blue horn, smooth and sleek, slightly curved backward.
Sora froze.
The boy in the mirror stared back with the same eyes he felt moving behind his own.
It was him.
But it wasn’t.
It couldn’t be.
He leaned in slowly, tilting his head from side to side.
The reflection copied him.
He blinked.
The boy in the mirror blinked.
Suddenly, as if a part of his mind clicked a beat late, he jerked back, and the momentary fear knocked his balance askew.
“Ugh!”
He fell onto his back with a soft, clumsy thud.
The ceiling returned before his eyes… just like when he woke.
And as he caught his breath, a single thought crossed his mind:
Is that… me?
It can’t be…
What is that… horn?
Sora stayed on the floor, breathing slowly, staring at the ceiling with the same bewilderment as a few minutes earlier… but this time, with a very different thought.
That’s me. That boy… that’s me now.
That horn… those markings…
And then, like an echo rising from the deepest part of his memory, an old scene surfaced in his mind.
A gentle voice.
An afternoon lit by sunlight streaming through the windows.
A little Sora, barely three years old, with just enough words to shape his world.
“Mom…” he said in his still-inexperienced little voice, “why aren’t we the same as Dad, or Nanami, or Aeris, or the people who visit our home?”
They were in the sitting room. He was sitting on her lap, playing with the hem of her dress.
Tsukari’s gaze in that moment was pure tenderness, tempered by a quiet, wistful calm.
“It’s because we’re different, Sora,” she answered, gently stroking his white hair.
“And that’s okay.”
Sora looked up at her with wide eyes, not understanding.
Tsukari then pointed to her own horn, and softly traced the markings on her face.
“These markings… this horn on our foreheads… are the gift of people who loved us.
I love you so much, Sora… that I gave you my legacy.”
Three-year-old Sora didn’t understand. He only smiled and hugged her tighter.
But the Sora of now…
The one who was also Adriel…
Understood everything.
The legacy…
It’s my inheritance. Not just by blood, but by race.
Astaria had spoken to him before he reincarnated. She had explained the existence of the Vasto-Sapiens—ancient, powerful beings, driven out of Elythera long ago.
And now he understood:
Tsukari… was one of them.
Not only that.
I was one too.
At least, in part.
Sora brought his hand to his forehead, touching the small horn as if for the first time.
Not with fear…
but with a quiet respect.
The memory faded slowly, like mist when the sun begins to rise.
Sora blinked a couple of times and sat up. Then, with a light push, he stood.
He wasn’t trembling anymore.
Maybe he didn’t fully understand what he was now…
but at least he was beginning to accept that this “now” existed.
Right then, the bedroom door opened softly, and Tsukari’s elegant figure reappeared.
“Sweetheart, breakfast is ready,” she announced with a gentle smile. “Aeris has already set it on the table.”
Then, seeing him still in pajamas, she tilted her head a little and stepped closer.
“Let’s get you changed so we can go down to the dining room.”
Sora looked at her.
For an instant, he didn’t know how to react.
The idea of someone else—mother or not—helping him change clothes was… strange.
Too strange.
When Tsukari approached with a clean outfit in her hands, he took a step back, the reflexive instinct to protect his space kicking in.
“Wait!” he blurted, louder than he meant to.
Tsukari stopped without losing her calm.
Her eyes held tenderness, not surprise.
She was used to the quirks of a five-year-old.
But for Sora, who carried an adult’s mind…
it was a world of difference.
He swallowed.
He was about to say something else—some excuse, a rational objection.
But he stopped.
He knew that if he insisted on doing it himself, he might hurt Tsukari’s feelings.
She wasn’t doing this out of obligation.
She was doing it out of love.
She… is my mother now. And even if I still don’t know how to talk to her… I don’t want to hurt her.
So he lowered his gaze, nodded in resignation…
and let Tsukari come closer.
As she carefully unbuttoned the top of his pajamas, he could only think of how surreal it all was.
An adult soul, trapped in a child’s body, being undressed as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
And maybe…
maybe to her, it was.
Tsukari finished adjusting Sora’s clothes with practiced, careful hands.
She smoothed the hem of the light tunic he now wore—cream with blue edging—and tied a small ribbon at his neck. Nothing ostentatious, but neat, dignified… noble.
Then she paused a moment, studying him in silence.
Sora looked up and met her gaze. He didn’t speak, but he could see the glimmer in her eyes… that quiet pride.
“You look very elegant, my son,” Tsukari said at last, her smile full of tenderness.
“You can tell you’re your father’s boy.”
Sora froze.
Eh…?
He hadn’t expected those words.
He wasn’t prepared.
The comment caught him completely off guard, and for a second he didn’t know what to say or how to react.
His cheeks, almost at once, flushed a soft pink.
Why did that affect me so much…?
Am I… flattered?
He quickly averted his eyes, embarrassed, and not knowing how to hide his nerves, he gently took Tsukari’s hand without looking directly at her.
“Let’s… go to the dining room, Mother,” he murmured, his voice lower than usual.
Tsukari let out a light, sweet chuckle—more conspiratorial than teasing.
“Hehe… Of course. Let’s go.”
Without another word, she guided him down the wooden hallway, his small hand enclosed in hers—warm and firm.
As they walked together toward the dining room, Sora’s heart kept pounding.
Not from confusion.
Not from the bewilderment of his new life.
But because, in a fleeting instant…
he felt loved. Truly loved.
The hallway opened into a bright room where the morning light poured through wide windows, bathing the space in a warm golden glow. The dining room was spacious, with high ceilings and dark wooden furniture carved with fine details.
The dishes were already set on the table: freshly baked bread, sliced fruit, a steaming thick vegetable soup, and two pitchers—one of water, the other of warm milk.
In front of the table, a young woman was finishing arranging the cutlery.
She wore a simple maid’s uniform in white and pale green, with a ribbon gathering her chestnut hair. It was Aeris.
At the sound of footsteps, she turned with a gentle smile.
Her hazel eyes met Sora’s, and her expression softened almost instinctively.
“Good morning, young master Sora…” she said sweetly.
“Are you feeling better?”
Sora watched her for a few seconds. His mind was still wrestling with names, faces, bonds.
He knew who she was. He did. But for an instant, the natural impulse to answer snagged in his throat.
“Good morning…” he replied, his tone a little subdued.
Then, almost automatically, he added:
“Aeris…?”
Spoken like a question.
As if he needed to make sure his memory wasn’t playing tricks on him.
Aeris tilted her head in curiosity without losing her smile.
She said nothing else, but the pause was long enough to make it clear she’d noticed something odd.
Sora lowered his gaze, uncomfortable.
She picked up the cloths she’d used to wipe the table and started toward the kitchen, as she did every morning.
But this time, a voice stopped her.
“Won’t you have breakfast with us, Aeris?” Tsukari asked, her tone gentle but firm.
Aeris turned, mildly surprised.
“Every day you work hard from early on.
Come, sit and have breakfast with us.”
The young woman seemed to hesitate for a moment. She looked at Sora, then at Tsukari.
She knew the invitation was special… it wasn’t something that happened every day.
“Very well, Lady Tsukari… thank you,” she replied at last with a slight bow and a grateful smile.
She stepped closer and took a seat at one end of the table, directly across from Sora.
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, trying to hide how strange it all felt… how unreal it was to share a meal with people who were, to him, familiar and yet completely new.
The three of them took their seats around the table.
The atmosphere was calm; the scent of warm bread and soup filled the air, and the distant sounds of the village slipped in through the half-open window.
Sora watched in silence as Tsukari served with a smile, placing some fruit and bread on his plate, and then on Aeris’s.
That was when Tsukari broke the small silence:
“Why so formal, Aeris?” she asked, soft but direct, without raising her voice.
“It’s not as if it were unusual to have breakfast with us…
Besides, you know you’re a member of this family. You don’t have to be so formal with us.”
The words were sweet, warm… but they didn’t catch Aeris off guard.
It wasn’t the first time she’d heard them.
The young woman set her spoon on the rim of the plate and looked at her serenely.
“I know, Lady Tsukari,” she replied with a faint, unstrained smile.
“But as the head of House Eryndel’s maids… I must keep my composure and my station. It’s part of my responsibilities.”
Sora lifted his gaze, surprised.
Head of the team?
He hadn’t noticed before… but it made sense. Her way of moving, of organizing, her bearing…
Tsukari let out a brief laugh, warm as freshly baked bread.
“Hehe… Well, if that makes you happy, I won’t stop you.”
Sora said nothing.
He only watched.
It was clear his mother and Aeris were closer than they seemed.
There was trust, affection… but also a mutual respect forged over time.
Aeris, even so, chose to keep her firm stance.
Maybe out of pride. Maybe out of gratitude.
Or perhaps simply because she didn’t want affection to cloud the clarity of her duty.
And in the midst of it all, Sora…
A child with the soul of another time, trying to understand the pieces that made up this new board of life.
The conversation between Tsukari and Aeris faded to the background of Sora’s mind, as if his attention had slipped onto another frequency.
Something churned in his chest. A hollow. A doubt.
He turned his face slightly toward his mother, studying her with seriousness, and in a soft voice—perhaps more serious than one would expect from a five-year-old—he asked:
“Mother… where is Father?”
Tsukari set her spoon aside, as if she had been waiting for that question.
She gave him a calm smile, though her eyes still held a shade of unresolved worry.
“Your father left a couple of nights ago,” she said, resting her hand gently on the table.
“It was when your fever started… it was very intense, more than I had ever seen in you.”
“My knowledge of medicine and alchemy wasn’t enough to understand what was happening.”
Aeris listened in silence, without interrupting.
“So Alvaron,” Tsukari continued, “rushed out to fetch the village healer. But just then, the healer had left for the neighboring village to replenish supplies… A couple of days’ journey, there and back.”
She said it calmly, but every word hinted at the weight of the uncertainty she had lived through.
“But don’t worry, son… he should arrive at any moment,” she added with a faint smile.
“He’ll be happy to see you’re well again, Sora.”
Sora lowered his gaze.
What if that fever… was triggered by the recovery of my memories?
He remembered what Tsukari had said while holding him that morning:
“I thought you wouldn’t wake…”
The pieces were starting to fit, but still without a clear shape.
Too many questions. Too few certainties.
Maybe it wasn’t a coincidence…
Perhaps a child’s mind wasn’t ready for the weight of a previous life…
What if that ‘collision’ of memories was what caused all this?
He sighed inwardly, without changing his expression.
I can’t draw conclusions without proof.
The only thing I can do… is observe.
Observe and adapt.
He took a small piece of bread from the plate, broke it with his little hands, and brought it to his mouth.
Even with his mind in a whirl, he acted with the naturalness of a child.
As if nothing had changed.
But for Sora…
everything had changed.
Breakfast ended in a warm, quiet atmosphere.
Aeris, ever diligent, rose without saying much and began clearing the dishes one by one, her movements soft but efficient.
Sora followed her with his eyes for a few seconds, before being distracted by a presence very close to his face.
Tsukari was looking at him with motherly eyes and a gentle smile.
She took a small linen handkerchief from beside the fruit bowl, leaned toward him, and delicately wiped a little smudge of food from his cheek.
Sora blinked in surprise.
“Ah!” he let out, with a slight jump in his seat.
It wasn’t that Tsukari had been rough—not at all.
But… he simply wasn’t used to that kind of gesture.
He had forgotten what it was like to be tended to with that kind of maternal care.
What…?
Damn…
I’m a child. And I ended up getting food on my face while eating…
He closed his eyes for a second while she finished cleaning his cheek, saying nothing.
It’s embarrassing… but I suppose it’s normal.
Normal for a child.
And now… that’s what I am.
He opened his eyes again, and his gaze met his mother’s. She was just smiling at him with that pure affection that needed no words.
No one said anything.
Neither he nor she.
And yet that simple moment… was more intimate than anything Sora had experienced since he woke up.
When everything had been cleared away and Aeris disappeared once more through the kitchen door, Tsukari stood and looked at Sora with a kind smile.
“Sora, you need to brush your teeth and wash your face.
Let’s go to the bathroom, okay?”
He nodded quietly, obedient.
It didn’t bother him… though inside, there was a faint murmur of discomfort at how natural it all was for her… and how artificial it still felt to him.
He followed Tsukari down a short hallway; they descended a small side staircase and entered a room with a large wooden tub, shelves lined with jars, and herbs hanging to dry near the window.
On one of the small tables, Tsukari picked up a brush.
Sora recognized it at once.
A toothbrush?
It was different, of course.
The handle seemed to be polished bone or light wood, and the bristles weren’t synthetic but a blend of plant fibers and animal hair, bound tightly with a fine thread.
Beside it sat a small bowl filled with a clear, slightly cloudy liquid.
It had a faint smell—somewhat salty… but with a hint of mint, or maybe spearmint.
Not soap… but not toothpaste either.
It must be salt water… with some antiseptic herbs.
How interesting…
“Go ahead, son,” Tsukari said, handing him the brush dipped in the mixture.
“You know how to do it, right? You’re a big boy.”
Those words, though spoken with affection, sent a tiny chill up his neck.
‘You’re a big boy’… what a phrase.
When was the last time someone said that to me…?
He didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh.
In the end, it didn’t really bother him.
It was strange.
Yes.
But… it was also like a breath of fresh air.
He took the brush and wet it in the bowl, then began to clean his teeth with slow strokes, trying to remember how to do it with a small, still-clumsy hand.
He finished by rinsing with cold water from a jug, wiped his face with a cloth, and set the brush back in its place.
Tsukari was waiting at the doorway, arms crossed, a satisfied smile on her face.
“Very well done, Sora.”
He didn’t answer, but for the first time since he woke, he smiled a little.
They left the bathroom together and walked toward the main hall on the first floor.
There, the noonday light was already spilling through the tall windows, and the house was beginning to stir with the rhythm of a new day.
The ground floor hall was wide, with large windows, carved wooden furniture, and a pair of cushioned armchairs beside a fireplace still unlit.
Soft-toned tapestries adorned the walls, and on the main shelf a row of books rested beside a vase of fresh flowers.
Just as they crossed the threshold, Aeris approached Tsukari with a letter in hand.
“Lady Tsukari,” she said respectfully. “The administrator from the town office came by this morning.
He asked me to request that you come in to address a matter related to the merchants who arrived last Terradis.”
Tsukari took the letter, read it quickly, and nodded with gravity.
Then her gaze went to Sora, watching from a couple of steps behind.
“I would need to go… as the administrator requested,” Tsukari said, thoughtful.
“But… should I leave Sora alone?
After these difficult nights… I don’t want to be apart from him until I’m completely sure he’s all right.”
Aeris bowed slightly, placing a hand over her chest with gentle assurance.
“Please don’t worry, Lady Tsukari.
I will look after Sora, as I always have.
If anything happens, I’ll send someone to fetch you immediately.”
Sora, who had listened to the entire exchange in silence, stepped forward.
“Don’t worry, Mother.
If I stay with Aeris, there won’t be any problem.”
Tsukari fell silent for a second.
Her silvery eyes shone with a mix of pride and nostalgia.
“Very well…” she finally whispered, and gently stroked Sora’s hair.
Then she withdrew down the hallway toward her room to change.
A few minutes later, she reappeared in a long, elegant dress of dark tones, adorned with embroidered details that marked her status as a noble of the town.
Over her shoulders, a light, practical cape for the short trip to the administrative center.
Before leaving, she bent down and placed a kiss on Sora’s cheek.
“Take care, sweetheart,” she said in a soft voice.
Sora startled once more, giving a little jump.
He wasn’t used to that kind of affection… not yet.
But something in his chest… didn’t reject it.
Just before she opened the front door, Tsukari stopped.
She closed her eyes for a moment and recited a spell under her breath.
A series of ancient symbols began to glow on the floor beneath her feet, forming a bluish magic circle that hovered just above the wood.
Sora stared, mouth agape.
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Is that…? A transformation spell?
Before his eyes, his mother’s ethnic and magical traits began to soften:
the horn vanished in a faint flash, the markings on her face blurred, her hair gathered up and shifted subtly in tone.
His mother now looked like an ordinary human.
Tsukari turned to him one last time.
“I’m going now, but I’ll be back before sunset.
Aeris will take care of everything.
And you, Sora… be good.”
Sora didn’t answer.
He only nodded, his eyes still fixed on where the magic circle had been.
When the door closed behind her, his breathing quickened slightly.
Magic… real.
I saw it with my own eyes. No screens. No CGI. No effects…
This is Elythera.
For the first time since he woke…
he felt part of something larger.
When the door closed behind Tsukari, the echo lingered in the room for a few seconds, as if the house itself had exhaled a sigh.
Sora stood in the middle of the hall, studying the space in silence.
And now… what should I do?
I could go to my room and play…
Or maybe explore the house.
He already knew it, of course. He had lived there for five years. But now, from the perspective of who he truly was, everything felt different.
I’m practically a different person compared to the Sora from last week…
Everything feels new. Even the hallways.
As he thought, something on the shelf in the hall caught his attention.
A row of books.
He didn’t know why he hadn’t noticed them before. Perhaps his previous self hadn’t paid them any mind. But now, something about them sparked his curiosity: what kind of literature did people read in Elythera? Would it be about history? Magic? Ancient cultures?
He walked with steady steps toward the bookcase, and then…
Damn… I can’t reach them.
He stopped, frustrated.
I’m too small… this again.
He let out a resigned breath and a muted little chuckle.
“Hehe…”
Without thinking much more, he headed for the dining room, where Aeris was still calmly cleaning the last of the breakfast things. He wanted to look innocent. Like the child he now was.
“Aeris. Aeris,” he called, his voice a little higher than usual, “could you help me?”
Aeris turned to him with that familiar look of hers—a blend of sweetness, respect, and a hint of mischief she showed only to those she cared for.
“Tell me, what would you like, young master Sora?”
Sora scratched the back of his neck, as if embarrassed by the request.
“I want to look at some books on the shelf in the hall… but I can’t reach them.
Could you help me get them?”
For a second, Aeris seemed to stop time with that quiet, tender expression. Then she tilted her head—her signature gesture—and nodded.
“Very well, young master Sora.
Let’s go to the hall.”
Aeris walked with Sora to the hall, and the two of them stopped before the large bookcase.
The book spines caught the daylight in soft glints of aged leather and muted gold.
“Which would you like to see, young master Sora?” Aeris asked with a kind smile.
Sora looked up, squinting… but he couldn’t make out the titles. From his height, all the books looked like simple rectangular blocks.
“Mm… which do you think would be best?” he answered at last, lifting his shoulders a little.
Aeris tilted her head, thoughtful.
“Let’s see… there aren’t any storybooks here, I’m sorry.
Most are about Elythera’s geography, the distribution of the Aurari peoples, political treatises… hmm…” She scanned a couple of titles, and suddenly her eyes lit up.
“Ah, I know one you might like!”
She carefully pulled out a book bound in deep blue, with gold details along the spine.
The embossing was worn with age, but the symbol of a sword encircled by laurel could still be made out.
Aeris carried it to the writing desk in the hall and set it down gently on the tabletop.
“This one might interest you, young master Sora.
It’s about the history of the Conclave of Astaria’s Order of Knights.”
Sora froze for an instant.
The Conclave of Astaria…?
A spark lit in his mind.
I’ve heard that name before… Selmyra.
It was the organization she led after betraying Astaria.
And now I’m finding out she founded an order of knights to serve her…?
The thought churned his stomach—but it also sparked immediate interest.
This could be valuable. Very valuable.
Not just as reading… but as information. Pieces of the puzzle.
He stepped toward the desk with determined strides, but the moment he tried to climb onto the chair…
“Ugh…!” he grunted, realizing it was taller than the ones in the dining room.
With some effort he managed to scramble up… only to discover he couldn’t reach the table.
His arms could barely brush the edge.
Damn… this again.
It’s going to be hard getting used to this body.
He turned his head with a sigh, looking for Aeris, who was still standing without noticing his dilemma.
Sora pursed his lips and put on his best pleading face.
When Aeris looked over, she let out a soft chuckle, somewhere between amused and fond.
“Of course… you can’t reach the desk,” she said, shaking her head gently with a tiny sigh.
She came over, lifted him carefully down from the chair, slid her hands under his arms and, in one smooth motion, sat herself in the chair, settling Sora on her lap.
“There. That’s better, isn’t it?
Now you can see the book.”
Sora felt a mix of embarrassment and warmth.
On the one hand, it was uncomfortable to have to rely so much on others…
But on the other hand, Aeris’s gesture was so natural, so warm, he couldn’t help feeling comfortable.
It’s fine like this… for now.
Aeris opened the book in front of them, and the pages creaked softly, revealing old illustrations, maps of fortresses, emblems of different orders…
And at the center of it all, a figure inked in dark lines: a knight in ceremonial armor, the Conclave’s sigil on his cloak.
Sora narrowed his eyes.
Let’s see, Selmyra…
What kind of world have you shaped in my absence?
The book creaked as it opened fully, revealing the first page with a majestically illustrated frontispiece: a knight in gleaming armor astride a black steed, lifting his sword to the sky beneath the emblem of the Conclave of Astaria.
Sora watched in silence for a few seconds.
Well… they’ve certainly gone out of their way to present themselves as heroes…
And then the second problem surfaced.
He frowned, tilted his head, and strained his eyes.
Wait… what the hell does this even say…?
His gaze ran over the text… but he couldn’t understand a thing.
The letters were curved, stylized—strokes and symbols nothing like the alphabet of his former life.
Obviously they don’t speak english in this world… how did I not realize that?
He remembered that upon waking, speaking with his mother and with Aeris had felt natural, as if he’d always known that language.
But reading it… was a completely different story.
“Damn…” he murmured under his breath, a bead of sweat forming at his temple.
Once again, he turned his face toward Aeris, giving her that look—
that pleading look, slightly adorable, slightly cheeky—
the one he already knew worked.
Aeris watched him with a blend of tenderness and resignation.
She let out a light chuckle, as if she already knew this pattern.
“That’s right… young master Sora still can’t read.
I’m sorry, I forgot completely.
It’s fine—I’ll read it for you.”
Sora smiled, a mix of gratitude and relief.
He liked the sound of her voice when she narrated.
Aeris flipped a couple of pages and began to read.
“The Order of the Conclave of Astaria was founded after the Great Pacification, as the protective arm of faith and stability across the continent of Elythera…”
Her voice was clear, unhurried—almost melodic.
She seemed to enjoy every word. It showed that she liked those historical tales with a heroic sheen.
“Since its founding by the Great Paladin Astrel, the order has taken part in countless battles for peace, defending the values left by the sacred Astaria…”
Sora listened… but couldn’t help raising an eyebrow.
Uh-huh… sure…
Probably written by one of Selmyra’s zealots.
The feats sounded exaggerated, the heroes too perfect, the enemies always cruel and dark.
This reads like propaganda dressed up as history… and yet…
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye.
Aeris wore an expression full of wonder. As if she truly believed what she was reading.
And somehow, that softened him.
She doesn’t know… for her this is just a pretty story. Maybe an inspiration.
As he listened, he began to study the lines of text carefully.
He searched with focus… and little by little, some words started to make sense.
A letter, then another. A word. Then another.
He felt something click in his head.
And then, it happened.
Right before his eyes, squarely in his line of sight, something bright appeared.
A translucent notification, floating as if the air had digitized for a second.
New Skill Unlocked!
Basic Reading — Level 1/20
“Huh?” Sora whispered, giving a small start.
Aeris paused, raising an eyebrow.
“Are you all right, young master?”
“Yes… I just… remembered something, hehe,” he replied, nervous.
That notification… it’s from the skill I chose…
Infinite Progress.
And along with it… the Soul Panel.
So it works… it really activates as I live my life here!
That means… little by little I can learn anything… all the way to mastery.
A shiver ran down his spine. Not of fear, but of excitement.
He gently clenched his fists, feeling the weight of the book on his legs.
This is… my blessing. Astaria’s gift.
Aeris continued reading without stopping, her clear, rhythmic voice filling the hall as she turned the pages with almost reverent care.
Sora, though more focused on picking out words than on the content itself, couldn’t help but feel a certain admiration for the dedication with which she narrated each passage.
But after a good while, Aeris made a small pause. She lowered the book slightly and let out a soft sigh.
“Young master Sora, would you like to take a break?”
The question sounded kind, but Sora noticed.
She’s tired…
Though her tone was calm and there was still that spark in her eyes, it was clear she wanted to stop. After all, he’d been sitting on her lap this whole time, and even if he was a child, holding that weight for so long was starting to take its toll.
“Alright,” Sora answered with a faint, almost conspiratorial smile.
“Thanks for reading all that to me, Aeris. Really.”
Aeris smiled back, sincere, and nodded.
“With pleasure.”
They both stood and went to sit on the sofa in the hall.
The book stayed open on the desk, as if the story were waiting for them to resume it later.
Once they were settled, Aeris turned to him with curiosity.
“What do you think so far?
Aren’t the Conclave Knights amazing?
Skilled, brave… they defend the realm of Elythera with their lives!”
Sora watched her.
Aeris’s eyes shone like a girl talking about her favorite tale.
There was a pure excitement in her words—something that couldn’t be faked. She truly loved those stories.
Sora didn’t answer right away.
He knew those stories were inflated… manipulated to glorify the Conclave.
Behind those feats were lies, darkness, control… Selmyra.
And yet… seeing her so happy, so full of wonder…
He couldn’t tell her the truth.
Not yet.
“Yeah… it sounds like they’re great heroes,” he replied, forcing an innocent tone.
Aeris looked at him a moment longer.
Her smile stayed, but her eyes narrowed with mild suspicion.
“Hmm… you’re not entirely convinced, are you?”
A chill ran down Sora’s back.
“Uh… well… it’s just that there’s so much that’s new,” he said, trying to seem confused.
“And I don’t really understand yet how the realm works… that’s all.”
Aeris let out a brief laugh.
“It’s all right, it’s all right. You’ll have time to learn, young master Sora.
And if you like, I can read you another part tonight—would you enjoy that?”
Sora nodded with a smile.
“I’d like that very much.”
After a few seconds of quiet, Sora looked at Aeris again, a touch of admiration in his eyes.
“It’s amazing…” he said, low but sincere.
“How you can read a book this complex so perfectly.
How did you learn to read? Who taught you?”
Aeris blinked, surprised by the question.
Then she lowered her gaze a little, as if rummaging through old memories.
“It was Lady Tsukari,” she answered with a nostalgic smile.
“When she took me into the family… I was sixteen.”
Sora’s eyes widened a little. He hadn’t thought about it, but now that she’d said it, Aeris didn’t seem like just any maid.
“Back then, I was illiterate,” Aeris went on—her tone serene, without sadness, only honesty.
“I lived in the western fields here in Rulid.
My parents died in an epidemic that struck the farms that year.
I tried to keep the farm going on my own… but I couldn’t.”
Sora lowered his gaze a little. He didn’t know what to say. The words were simple, but the weight behind them was heavy.
“Lady Tsukari found me one day when she passed by with your father.
She offered to let me stay in this house and help with the chores.
I… accepted, of course. I had nowhere else to go.”
Her fingers traced the edge of the couch, almost without noticing.
“In my spare time, I started taking an interest in books.
I’d watch your mother reading and jotting things down… and I got curious.
When she learned I wanted to study, she offered to teach me.”
Aeris looked up at him with a serene smile, though her eyes held that faint glimmer born of grateful memory.
“She taught me with great affection. Patiently. Day after day.
I owe your parents so much, Sora…”
Sora looked at her in silence for a moment.
The woman he had always seen as “the kind maid” was much more than that.
She was a survivor. A grateful woman.
A part of the family.
“I’m glad you’re with us, Aeris,” he murmured, almost without thinking.
Aeris met his gaze with a mix of surprise and sweetness.
“Thank you, young master Sora,” she replied—and then, for the first time, let the title fall, saying simply:
“Truly… thank you.”
Sora studied Aeris’s face.
He wanted to know more about her story—about her parents, about the epidemic that had taken everything from her…
but it would be insensitive to ask.
The moment wasn’t right, and the silence hanging between them was one that asked for respect.
So instead, something completely different—and much lighter—crossed his mind.
A whimsical thought.
A spark of excitement.
“Aeris, Aeris,” he said suddenly, turning toward her,
“would you teach me to read?”
Aeris blinked a couple of times, surprised.
She stared at him.
“Huh?”
“So I wouldn’t have to bother you every time to do it for me,” he added with a mischievous yet sincere smile.
For a moment, Aeris didn’t know what to say.
It wasn’t common for a child so young to ask for that with such interest.
In fact, it wasn’t common at all.
In most noble families, parents had to force their children to study reading once they turned seven, as a prerequisite for entering an academy—
whether the Royal Academy, meant to train leaders, administrators, and aristocrats;
or the Academy of Mastery, focused on trades, magic, and practical skills.
Sora wasn’t even six yet. And he already wanted to read.
After gathering her thoughts, Aeris finally smiled.
“It will be my pleasure, young master Sora,” she said warmly.
“But I should warn you… it won’t be easy. So you’ll have to be patient.”
Sora nodded enthusiastically, almost bouncing on the couch.
“Yes! I’ll be patient. I promise.”
Aeris laughed softly, caught up in the child’s energy.
“Then we’ll begin this very week. I’ll make a simple plan so you can learn little by little.”
“Thank you, Aeris!” Sora said, beaming.
This is part of progress… and it’ll do me good to learn quickly.
I have the Infinite Progress skill and the Soul Panel.
I’m sure I can advance at a good pace…
But for now, he let himself drift on the warmth of the moment.
Aeris rose from the sofa with elegance and ease, smoothing the white apron she wore with one hand.
“Excuse me, young master Sora,” she said in her usual tone—warm but respectful.
“I need to go supervise lunch with the other maids. If you like, you can stay here, wander around the house… or go play in your room.”
Sora nodded with a grateful smile.
“Thank you for everything, Aeris.”
She dipped her head slightly, still smiling, and headed to the kitchen, leaving Sora alone in the hall.
Silence filled the house again, broken only by the distant sounds of household activity from the service areas.
Without thinking much about it, Sora decided to go to his room.
He climbed the low steps of the white marble staircase, and upon reaching the second floor, turned to the right, where he remembered his bedroom was—right next to his parents’.
In front of the door, he stretched as far as he could.
“Oof…” he grunted softly as he raised his arm.
He barely managed to reach the knob.
It was higher than he remembered.
Another reminder that I’m a child…
He turned the handle with both hands and pushed the door.
As it opened, the room greeted him with familiar warmth.
It was spacious and bright, with large windows letting in the soft light of midday.
The dark wooden floor was covered by a rug in green and gold tones.
Against the back wall stood a small canopy bed, perfectly made.
And scattered across the low cabinet by the window and a wicker basket were toys.
Simple toys, of wood and cloth:
a carved little horse, a blunt toy sword, a small armored doll, a miniature cart.
Sora approached slowly.
He crouched and took the little wooden horse in his hands.
He held it carefully, stroking the time-worn cracks along its back.
These are the toys the Sora without memories used to play with…
The ones I myself loved… before remembering who I was.
A strange feeling swept over him.
A mix of tenderness, nostalgia… and a touch of sadness.
In my past life I had toys like these too…
But I don’t remember cherishing them as much as this child did.
He sat on the rug, surrounded by those small relics of innocence, and allowed himself to close his eyes for a moment.
Memories of his former childhood came in a whisper:
Video games. Books. School days. Afternoons in front of a screen.
His parents. Smiles. Loneliness. Routine.
And then… this place.
This new beginning.
Maybe… this time… I can do things differently.
After putting his toys away with care, Sora remained in silence, looking around the room.
The memory of what had happened while Aeris read to him returned with force:
The notification.
The skill.
The special ability Astaria gave me… the Soul Panel.
Driven by curiosity, he focused intently without saying a word.
He didn’t try to summon it with commands; he simply wished to see it.
And then, as if responding to his will, a translucent interface appeared before him.
A floating panel, with soft bluish edges and a clean look.
It didn’t seem entirely magical…
It had something of a video game, something of a system… something of him.
At the top, there were several tabs:
[Stats], [Inventory], [Skills]…
And others still locked.
When he tried to access them, a message popped up:
“Level too low. Try again later.”
Typical progress-locked system… Sora thought, half amused.
Without insisting, he decided to start with [Stats].
? Name: Sora Eryndel
? Level: 1
? Race: Vasto-Sapien
? Class: ???
? Strength: 4
? Dexterity: 5
Intelligence: 6
? Endurance: 3
? Charisma: 7
? Willpower: 8
? Luck: 5
“Wow… it’s pretty basic so far,” he murmured with a half-smile.
“Well, nobody starts the game with broken stats.”
He closed that window and opened [Inventory].
There he found a list of items divided by categories, but for now he only had the basics equipped:
- Child’s Linen Shirt
? Cotton Trousers
? Stitched Cloth Shoes
There were no 3D graphics like in his old games.
Everything was simple and functional, but selecting a garment opened a sub-menu with a full-body silhouette and three icons along the side:
- ● (Equip)
? ? (Unequip)
? ? (Take Out — Physically)
Curious, he tapped the ? beside Child’s Linen Shirt.
Pop!
The garment vanished from his torso.
“Eh?!” he yelped, springing back on the bed.
He looked down at his childish chest—slender, pale skin, with subtle markings like his mother’s.
Instinctively, he covered himself.
“Damn… this is realistic!” he blurted, cheeks burning.
He reopened the inventory in a hurry and this time tapped ● (Equip) beside the same garment.
The shirt rematerialized over his body at once, covering him.
Okay… that button takes clothes off, this one puts them back on… and this last one?
He tapped ? (Take Out) now, waiting for something to happen.
In that instant—plop!
An item identical to his shirt appeared folded on the bed, as if someone had just set it there.
Sora’s eyes went wide.
I can materialize items physically from here…? This is… much more useful than I thought.
He stepped closer, picked up the shirt, and stowed it back into the inventory by simply thinking it—
the item vanished from his hands, returning to the panel.
Spiritual storage system… like dimensional inventories in MMORPGs.
He slowly closed the interface, sitting on the bed.
“This… definitely isn’t common magic,” he murmured.
“It’s something designed just for me. Something that ties my new life… to who I was.”
He lingered there for a few seconds, looking at his own hands.
“Thank you, Astaria,” he whispered.
“I’ll use this gift well.”
After testing each inventory function, Sora shut that window with a satisfied gesture.
It was more useful and versatile than he expected.
And while he didn’t have anything special equipped yet, knowing he could manipulate his belongings that way… made him feel ready for something bigger.
Then his gaze settled on another tab.
[Skills]
“Let’s see what I’ve got here…”
The window opened to a very short list.
Only three skills:
- Speech — Level 10/10
? Walking — Level 10/10
? Reading — Level 1/20
Sora raised an eyebrow.
“Seriously? Speech and Walking are skills?” he said, amused.
But it made sense if he thought about it.
After all, not every newborn knew how to speak or walk.
It was logical that these would be maxed out from the start…
and Reading, just as he’d seen before, was only beginning to develop.
Everything is measured. Everything is tracked.
Even the most basic things.
Since there was nothing else to see there, he closed the tab… but, to his surprise, something didn’t disappear.
In the upper-left corner of his field of vision, a small floating window remained.
It was subtler than the main panel, but always visible.
It showed the following:
Sora Eryndel
?? HP: 120 / 120
?? MP: ??? / ???
?? XP: 5 / 30
“Eh?”
Sora tilted his head.
The green bar was full—clearly his health.
The blue one was huge, much longer, but… instead of numbers… it read ??? / ???.
“Why aren’t the values showing up?” he murmured.
He quickly deduced it was his mana, but…
Is it a bug? Or a part of the system I haven’t unlocked yet?
It was strange.
And it would have been even stranger if there hadn’t been a third bar below.
This one was violet, and partially filled.
A quick glance made its purpose obvious: XP: 5 / 30.
“Experience… I’ve made some progress,” Sora said, folding his arms.
“Could it be from reading the book with Aeris?”
The floating interface felt like a part of him.
It didn’t really get in the way, but it occupied a fixed spot—like a video game HUD.
He tried to make it vanish with mental gestures.
He tried touching it.
He tried focusing on it to see if it would hide on its own.
Nothing.
“Hmmm… I guess I can’t close it for now,” he said with a resigned sigh.
“I’ll have to get used to seeing it there… At least it’s discreet.”
He closed his eyes for a moment and let out a soft laugh.
“This is real.
This is happening.
And somehow… I like it.”
He opened his eyes, his gaze steadier now.
This is my new life… and I’m going to master it.
Sora had been submerged in the Soul Panel interface for quite a while—so absorbed he hadn’t noticed how much time had passed. His focus shattered all at once with a soft:
Knock, knock, knock.
“Young master Sora? Lunch is ready,” came Aeris’s sweet voice from the other side of the door.
Sora blinked a couple of times and closed the interface with a thought.
He climbed down from the bed, reached the handle with some effort, and headed for the dining room.
Aeris was there, setting the last dishes on the table.
It would be just the two of them for lunch.
Neither his mother Tsukari nor his father Alvaron were present.
But Sora didn’t take it as something sad.
He already understood that both had pressing responsibilities.
My mother is busy in town… and my father left because of me, to fetch the healer.
He accepted lunch without complaint and ate it calmly.
This time, he quickly took one of the linen napkins laid out on the table and wiped his face himself, remembering the embarrassment from that morning.
Although… it wasn’t all that unpleasant after all.
A mischievous smile flickered across his face.
When they finished, Aeris cleared the table as usual, then turned to him with an eager spark in her eyes.
“Young master Sora, would you like to continue the book from this morning? I’m free today, since I’m in charge of looking after you.”
Sora nodded with a smile. But before she could move, he made his play:
“Aeris… Aeris~” he said, with that tone he knew disarmed her.
“Could we go read in the yard? I’d like some fresh air while you read to me.”
Aeris tilted her head, smiling sweetly, as if she already knew she wouldn’t be able to refuse.
“Very well, young master Sora. Let’s go to the back garden. It’s good weather for reading outside.”
They walked through the house toward the rear, where a carefully tended private garden awaited them, ringed with flowers in shades of violet and blue.
At the center stood a small white wooden table with a pair of chairs decorated with floral engravings. It was clearly meant for afternoon tea… though it hadn’t been used in quite some time.
Sora paused halfway down the path and lifted his gaze to the open sky.
I didn’t know the yard was this big…
He turned toward the gate that connected to the front of the house, barely visible through the foliage.
Is there a matching courtyard out there, too?
He scratched his head, murmuring to himself,
“Definitely nobles… you can tell from everything around here.”
Aeris couldn’t help a quiet laugh as she watched him.
“Did you say something, young master?”
“Eh? No, nothing… just thinking out loud,” he replied, a little embarrassed.
They both sat. Aeris set the book on the table, opened the deep-blue volume with its gilt finishes, and, while a gentle breeze played with the leaves of the trees, began reading again from where they’d left off…
Aeris had been reading for a good while, while Sora—just like in the morning—rested comfortably on her lap. Her voice flowed softly, almost like a melody carried by the sway of the wind.
At one point she paused to wet her throat, leaving off right before a heroic scene.
That was when Sora, curiosity sparking, pointed at the text with his small finger.
“Aeris… does that say ‘took up his sword’?”
Aeris blinked, surprised.
“That is… correct.” She turned to him, puzzled. “How do you know?”
Sora’s eyes opened a little as he realized his mistake.
Shit! I thought we hadn’t read that part yet…
“I was… paying attention,” he said, trying to sound casual. “I was following what you were reading, trying to pick out the words. That’s all.”
Aeris narrowed her eyes for an instant, surprised.
How is it possible he’s already starting to recognize such complex words? We only started reading together this morning…
But her surprise soon softened into a warm smile.
“You’re very clever, young master Sora. I think you’ll learn to read much faster than I expected.
I promise it’ll be a lot of fun once we begin.”
Before Sora could respond, a deep, steady voice broke the garden’s calm.
“I’m back!”
The voice came from inside the house, and footsteps quickly made their way toward them.
Sora turned his head, instantly recognizing the man of strong bearing, white hair streaked with black, and an imposing gaze who had just stepped through the back door.
It was Alvaron.
His father.
The man halted at the scene before him: his son, seated on Aeris’s lap, calmly reading a book.
For an instant, his expression shifted—from the hard set of a commander to a mix of surprise, relief, and emotion.
“Sora…?” he whispered.
Aeris carefully stood, setting Sora on his feet before his father.
“Lord Alvaron,” she said with a slight bow. “The young master woke this morning. He’s been well all day.”
Alvaron said nothing for a few seconds.
He simply drew closer, slowly, until he stood before Sora… and knelt.
“You’re okay…” he said, his voice breaking for an instant, as if he still couldn’t believe it. “You don’t know what it was like for us to see you writhing with fever. I thought… I thought we were losing you.”
Sora didn’t know what to say.
He didn’t remember.
And he couldn’t allow himself to reveal anything yet.
But the man before him wasn’t just a noble or the head of a household.
He was his father.
And he was looking at him as if he had just recovered something irreplaceable.
“I’m fine, Father,” he said softly, trying not to sound too grown-up.
“Thank you for worrying about me.”
Alvaron wrapped him in a strong embrace—one that needed no words.
After that emotion-laden reunion, Aeris, still smiling sweetly, cast Sora a gentle look.
“Shall we leave the reading here for today, young master?” she asked, stroking his hair with tenderness.
Sora nodded with a small smile and thanked her sincerely.
Aeris lifted him carefully from under the arms and set him on the grass.
It was then that Alvaron, standing a few steps away, watched them with a hint of curiosity creasing his brow.
“Since when is Sora interested in reading… beyond bedtime tales or the dragon stories he loves so much?” he said, arms crossed but with an unmistakably affectionate tone.
Aeris answered naturally, without hiding the affection she felt for the boy.
“This morning, after he woke and had breakfast, Lady Tsukari had to go to town. The administrator from the office requested her presence to deal with the merchants who arrived on Terradis. She insisted she could stay, but Sora and I assured her we’d be fine.”
“I see…” Alvaron said, his tone more serious.
He turned to Aeris and gave a slight bow, one hand over his chest—a rare sign of respect from him.
“Thank you, Aeris. It’s reassuring to know we can count on you. You’re very dependable.”
Aeris, slightly flushed, bowed her head shyly.
“I’m only doing what’s proper, Lord Alvaron.”
Then the warrior looked back at Sora. His eyes were still a little unsettled, as if he still needed to be sure his son was truly all right.
“So you’re better… I’m truly glad. Even so, it would be good to have the healer look you over. He’s in the hall, waiting for you.”
Sora nodded without hesitation. He had no reason to refuse.
“All right, Father. Let’s go.”
Alvaron smiled with pride.
The boy who had once been fearful of healers now seemed to face things with more maturity.
Alvaron walked beside Sora back toward the hall.
Aeris accompanied them, though only for a moment. She carried the book they’d been reading in the garden, the page carefully marked.
“I’ll return to my duties, young master,” she said with a smile as she set the book on the hall desk. “If you need me, I’ll be in the kitchen.”
Both of them nodded and watched her go.
In the center of the hall, seated calmly in a high-backed armchair, was an elderly man with a kindly face and eyes worn by years—though still keen with sharp lucidity.
He had more gray than hair, and beside him rested a dark leather valise, bulky and scuffed from use.
From it protruded small glass vials, rolls of parchment, a couple of metal instruments, and a large book with a buckled clasp. Everything about him evoked the classic image of a healer and alchemist, like the ones Sora had seen countless times in his favorite novels and anime.
Sora couldn’t help but smile inwardly.
Now this is a classic… right down to the healer’s bag, he thought, amused.
The healer rose when he saw them enter.
He studied Sora for a few seconds and knit his brows slightly, assessing him with professional care.
“Let’s see, young Sora…” the healer said in a slow, deep voice, opening his book to a page that seemed pre-marked.
He examined him first in a superficial way: touched his forehead, checked the color of his skin, his eyes, his pulse.
“Mm… everything seems to have returned to normal. Good color, regular breathing.” He snapped the book shut and clicked his tongue. “But let’s do a full check. Stand, please.”
Sora climbed down from the armchair and took his place at the center of the hall, where the healer began reciting words in a language the current Sora didn’t fully understand—though its cadence felt strangely familiar.
A magic circle lit beneath his feet, a gentle emerald glow, almost like a very faint flame.
The spell was quiet, elegant, not threatening at all. It was… pretty, even.
And just then, a notification bloomed in his field of view, a translucent interface floating before his eyes:
New Skill Acquired!
Magical Perception — Level 1
Sora held his breath.
“Magical Perception…?”
Did it unlock because I’m being magically scanned?
Before he could mull it over, another notification surfaced, overlapping the first:
Magical scan in progress…
Sora blinked a couple of times. His breathing stayed steady, but inside, his mind was racing.
I have to start controlling these reactions. I can’t jump every time one of these windows pops up… or they’ll think I’m crazy.
The emerald light began to ebb, then faded completely. The circle vanished, leaving only a faint afterglow on the floor for a few seconds.
The healer nodded, satisfied.
“All in order.
There are no signs of magical imbalance or traces of curses. The fever has disappeared completely.”
Alvaron, who had been watching in silence with his arms crossed, exhaled in relief.
“Thank you, Master Ilvar. I truly appreciate it.”
The healer closed his book slowly, as if still processing something.
“Although I should add one more observation… During the magical scan, I felt a slightly irregular flow in the boy’s vital energy.”
“Irregular?” Alvaron asked, furrowing his brow.
“It isn’t negative,” the healer clarified at once. “There’s no sign of corruption or malformation… Only that the volume and density of magic his body emits are higher than normal for a child his age.”
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
“It could be related to… his heritage.” He glanced briefly at Sora, then at Alvaron. “I don’t have deep knowledge of the Vasto-Sapiens, so I can’t say whether this is typical among their kind. But since there are no adverse symptoms, I don’t consider it cause for concern.”
Alvaron nodded calmly—though Sora noticed the slight hardening in his gaze.
The healer finished putting his things away with care, and Sora sighed inwardly.
Thank goodness… If they knew the real reason for the ‘irregular flow,’ they’d have me sent to the mage tower for study starting tomorrow…
Even with everything seemingly clarified, Alvaron didn’t feel entirely at ease.
“Then…” he said, voice firm but measured, “what exactly happened these last two nights? Is it possible it will happen again?”
He looked at the healer with a mix of anxiety and frustration, as if needing a concrete answer that simply wasn’t available.
“I sought you out in a hurry because he was truly unwell,” he went on. “Burning with fever, barely able to breathe… My wife and I didn’t know what to do.”
The healer, now standing with his book closed under his arm, nodded gravely.
“I understand your concern, Lord Eryndel. And believe me, I wish I had a more precise answer… but the truth is I can’t identify a cause beyond a hypothesis without a solid basis.”
He fell silent for a moment before continuing.
“The only thing I can recommend is to stay alert for any similar symptoms. Fortunately, I’ll be in town for quite a while. I’ve already restocked my supplies, so I don’t plan to leave Rulid in the near term.”
Alvaron nodded with a faint sigh, though worry still clouded his gaze.
“Thank you, Master Ilvar. For coming so quickly… and for everything.”
“It’s my duty,” the healer replied politely, giving a slight bow before taking his leave and closing the door softly behind him.
Minutes later, the sound of the door opening again filled the air with a different mood.
“I’m back,” Tsukari said warmly as she stepped in, setting her cloak beside the coat rack by the entryway. Her steps carried her straight to Alvaron, whom she embraced with calm, familiar affection.
Sora watched them from where he sat, in silence.
The gesture was simple… but deeply meaningful.
Seeing my new parents like this…
I don’t know why, but… it reminds me of them. Of my real parents.
Well, the ones from another life…
His chest tightened gently.
He felt a twinge of nostalgia, but held it back.
No. That life is over.
I have to let them go.
I’m grateful they did their best for me, for raising me, but all of that…
ended with Adriel’s life.
He drew a deep breath and closed his eyes for a few seconds. When he opened them, his gaze was calm.
I’m no longer Adriel.
Now… I’m Sora.
And I’m accepting it, little by little.
“Shall we have dinner?” Tsukari asked, gently breaking the moment.
“Of course,” Alvaron replied with a smile.
And so the three of them headed to the dining room to share the day’s last meal, while something Sora hadn’t felt in a long time began to settle in his heart:
Peace.
Dinner flowed with a comforting calm.
Sora, Tsukari, Alvaron, and Aeris shared the table amid quiet remarks and a few light jokes from Alvaron, who tried to lift the mood.
The questions for Sora were simple: what he’d done that afternoon, whether he liked the book, if he’d played a little, if he felt well…
Sora answered naturally, choosing his words, letting his childlike self emerge on its own.
There was no tension. Just a simple, warm family dinner.
Once the table was cleared and Aeris returned to her duties, Tsukari approached her son with a slightly mischievous smile.
“Okay, Sora,” she said sweetly, “it’s bath time.”
At those words, a chill ran down Sora’s back.
Bath?
Please… tell me I’m going to bathe on my own.
But no—the reality was plain and unyielding.
When they reached the bathroom and he saw Tsukari preparing everything as if it were the most natural thing in the world, all his hopes vanished in an instant.
Of course, he was a child. He couldn’t expect to be left to handle it by himself.
And though his body reacted with resistance—awkward, tense, cheeks burning—he knew he couldn’t complain without raising suspicion.
Ugh… this is so embarrassing… but she’s my mother. I have to bear it.
After a few minutes of absolute inner torment, the bath was over.
Tsukari helped him dry off and put on clean pajamas.
“There you are—much more handsome,” she said with a smile.
All set, and before they headed to their rooms, Tsukari paused in the hallway, thoughtful, and looked at Sora with tenderness.
“Don’t you want to sleep with us tonight, Sora?” she asked gently.
“I know we want you to start sleeping in your own room like a big boy, but… after what happened last night, you might feel safer with us nearby.”
Sora fell silent for a moment.
He knew that if he said yes, his mother would feel calmer.
But he also knew he needed to begin creating a little emotional distance—not out of rejection, but because he needed space to process things on his own, like the adult he had been.
He smiled at her sincerely.
“I’m all right, Mother.
You and Father have had a long day… I can sleep in my room. I’ll be fine.”
Tsukari watched him in silence for a few seconds, surprised by the maturity of his answer.
She said nothing.
She simply smiled again, crouched slowly, and wrapped him in a warm, strong embrace—the kind that blankets the soul.
“I love you very much, Sora.”
“I love you too, Mother,” he replied, softer now, as if the hug had seeped all the way into his heart.
After the embrace, Tsukari led him to his bed, tucked the covers around him with care, stroked his hair one last time…
and withdrew, closing the door slowly without a sound.
Sora was left alone in the darkness of his room.
For the first time, truly alone… in this new world.
Lying in bed, Sora finally had a moment to himself.
Come to think of it, he hadn’t had time to stop and think all day. Not really.
It had been a day that, calm on the surface, was heavy with emotion:
reuniting with his past self, the memories, the confusion, Tsukari’s affection, Aeris’s sweetness, Alvaron’s steadiness…
They were all feelings he hadn’t experienced in a long time—so long he had almost forgotten them.
He turned his gaze toward the window.
The moon cast a soft halo of silver light through the curtains.
He raised his right hand and studied it beneath that faint glow.
A new life…
A new body… a new home…
Sora… the Soul Panel… Tsukari… Alvaron… Aeris…
So much to process…
And yet, as his eyes slowly drifted closed, a single feeling rose clearer than all the rest:
But I love it.
That was his last conscious thought before sleep took him.
With a quiet smile on his face, Sora fell into a deep sleep—for the first time in his new life.