Part 1
— Hey, you, can you hear me? How many fingers am I holding up?
What happened? Why is everything blurry? I don't know where I am. I feel myself being rushed somewhere fast. Something hard and squeaky is beneath me, a stretcher. White, blinding lamps on the ceiling rush past, blurring into a single sharp spot.
— Faster! Pressure is dropping! Where is the surgeon?! I hear quick, sharp commands. The voices are muffled, distorted by masks. This is not the quiet, monotonous life I was used to. My breathing slows, I think I'm losing consciousness. Is this how it all ends?
— Ruptured spleen? Abdomen is rigid. Pulse is weak but steady. Quick stabilization needed, prepare for the operating room! I think I remember what happened to me. It was instantaneous. I was sitting in the back of a taxi, looking at the rain-soaked city. I was thinking about the new book I finally got, about ordering new medicine. Ordinary, boring, familiar thoughts. Then the crash. Not a sound, but a feeling that the world around me was torn apart. How did I survive that?
— Give him an oxygen mask!
— Can you see what I'm showing? Can you speak?
How can I speak? I can't even breathe normally. Words drowned in a rising, suffocating sound. My vision narrowed to a tiny, dark dot. I felt unbearable pain in my side.
— Do you understand where you are?!
Hey, quiet, why are you shouting so loud?
— Pressure is dropping, start the transfusion!
— Do you hear me? Do you remember your name?
At that moment, surrounded by all that frantic energy, that will to save me, I felt a complete, ironic helplessness. I, who dreamed of a quiet life, was now just a piece of flesh others were trying to hold onto in this world. And the ringing finally became unbearable. I plunged into darkness.
The voices moved away with every passing second. I couldn't breathe anymore. The light receded further from my eyes, everything blurred. Am I dying? I haven't done so much yet.
—…
— Elvarin, alasse, i'nion athrad ven
I heard voices again, it seems it's too early for me to die.
— Álavë leryë, menë terevá.
I slowly began to open my eyes. God, it's bright! Gradually, my vision stabilized.
As soon as my eyes adjusted, a silver-haired man with a strange smile appeared before me. His face was pale and severe, with thin, aristocratic features. He was dressed in a simple but expensive dark silk cloak, fastened at the waist with a leather belt. What was he doing here? He said something in a melodious language I had never known:
— Ila i'hyll, qualta i'galad tîw hen úmienya.
Wait, where am I? I was just in a hospital, and this doesn't look like an operating room. It was a small, dimly lit room made of stone and wood, with hides on the wall. At the far end of the room was a fireplace, and above it was something like a deer skull. The room looked medieval, even the wooden cradle I was lying in looked ancient.
So many questions. How did I get here? Why am I alive? Why is this strange man staring at me?
I looked around. I was really transported somewhere, or maybe I was dreaming during a death coma. Judging by the style, this was the Middle Ages. A young woman was sitting next to me. Her hair was the color of moonlight, it shone like metal and flowed over her shoulders, shimmering in the light. It felt cool to the touch, yet soft and delicate like silk. She was so beautiful. Her eyes were the color of blue sapphire, so deep and bright you could drown in them. But she looked very tired for some reason.
I tried to speak, but I couldn't. Instead of speech, a loud, meaningless roar came out. When I tried to sit up, I looked at my hands... Why are they like a baby's?!
The realization dawned on me, too many coincidences. It seems I survived, but somehow ended up in a baby's body. Is this reincarnation? What nonsense, it must be a dream. But if it's a dream, why does it feel so real? I looked again at the people in the room. A man about twenty-five and a young woman no older than twenty. She must be my mother. The tall man next to her picked me up. I even let out a small cry of surprise. But he didn't seem to notice my shock, I saw tears welling up in his eyes out of the corner of mine. He said something else to the young woman, then placed me back in her arms and ran off somewhere.
Now I understood this was not a dream. The shock was absolute. How the hell is this possible?! I'm not in intensive care. I'm not in a coma. I'm not in my old broken body. But since God gave me a second chance, I will use it and start a new life. A full life.
Part 2
A few months passed. To my surprise, I quickly learned to walk. I still couldn't get used to my new body. It was small, helpless, and incredibly flexible. The arms and legs, which were dysfunctional in my past life, now jerked with uncontrollable force. I could move them, I could feel them. This was absolute freedom, bordering on physical terror. This was so new to me. In my past life I had been disabled since childhood, so I never got to feel what it was like to move on my own feet instead of in a wheelchair.
I lived in a small village near the city of Lorelin. I had never heard of a city by that name. Life here was quiet and peaceful. My father named Alak constantly went into the city, probably for work. Elvarin, my mother, worked in the field near the house, though it was more like a small vegetable patch. I also had a sister named Lyra, who was five years older than me. The names here were quite unusual. I also got a strange name, Airon. It sounded decent, but I had never heard such names before. Overall, I was fine with this life, though sometimes I missed my computer. But here there wasn't even electricity, let alone a computer. What was I supposed to do here? They wouldn't even let me go outside.
I was slowly picking up the local language. It was unlike any European language, and the letters were strange, looking more like hieroglyphs than an alphabet. Maybe I was reborn somewhere in Asia? In the evenings my parents read me fairy tales that were very different from those in my time. They read about orcs, demons, and underground elves. The story about the latter was very interesting. It said the underground elves were a people who renounced their king and started a great war eight thousand years ago under the leadership of Dardan. They told these stories as if they were true, constantly telling me how evil and despicable these elves were. I guessed they believed these legends due to their lack of education, nothing surprising for those times. But there was something strange about my parents' ears. When I was reborn, I didn't pay much attention to it, but their ears looked exactly like those of elves. When I looked in the mirror in the bedroom, I saw the same kind of ears. Was I reborn in another world where elves existed? I immediately dismissed the thought, but the next event forced me to believe it.
Part 3
Rain was falling. Elvarin was telling me and my sister another fairy tale, sitting by the fireplace. I looked out the window, wondering if I could ever return to my own time. The rain grew heavier every minute. Trees and plants in the garden swayed violently in the wind. The wind was so strong it felt like it would rip the trees out by the roots. In my past life I also loved sitting by the window in my wheelchair, watching the rain. But suddenly I saw two silhouettes near the neighbor's house. One was leaning on the other's shoulder. What were they doing outside in such a downpour? While I was thinking, I didn't notice them approaching our house. Are they coming to us? What do they want here? When they got closer, I could examine them. Two men, one with short hair, the other with medium length hair. The one leaning on the other looked awful. His hair was messy, covered in light soot. His clothes were torn, obviously almost burned away. I also noticed he could barely walk, his burned legs moving with great difficulty with the help of the other man.
When they reached the doorstep, I cried out:
— Mom, look!
— What is it, Airon?
— Someone came to our house!
Just as I said that, there was a knock on the door. Elvarin hastily got up from her chair and went to the door. When she opened it, I saw how terrible the man with the torn clothes looked. He looked like he was at death's door. What happened to him to put him in such a state?
While I was thinking, Elvarin quickly seated him on a chair in the entrance hall and began to examine him. The man who brought him started explaining that he was struck by lightning. He was a tough cookie to survive a direct lightning strike. But why did he bring him here? Shouldn't he have taken him to a hospital first?
After Elvarin examined him, she placed her hand on his head and closed her eyes. What was she doing? Her hand started glowing with a pure, pulsing light. His wounds started closing... What the hell? How is that possible? Her hand glowed for a few seconds, and then what happened next I couldn't believe. His wounds started closing, and he began to recover. Soon there were no wounds left on his body. Only his burned clothes remained as a reminder of his state. My jaw dropped as I watched this. I just couldn't believe what was happening. The man was already standing on his own two feet, thanked Elvarin and paid her a few silver coins, then left.
What does all this mean? Was it magic? If it wasn't magic, how did he heal in a few seconds? I refused to believe it until the very end, but it looked like real magic. If there is magic here, then did I reincarnate in a completely different world? A world of magic. Because this world looked like the Middle Ages, I thought I was just transported back in time. But it turns out everything is much more interesting. If my mother can cast spells, can I too? It seems my new life will be much more interesting than I thought.
Part 4
A year passed. Elvarin was constantly busy, either in the kitchen or working the small field. I learned she was a Healer. Sometimes sick people came to us, and she healed them in moments. Alak was also a Healer, but he originally trained in fire magic. He worked in the city, so he was often away from home.
I had gotten quite good at understanding the local language. I was even saying my first words. My parents were very surprised I started speaking so early. They rejoiced, saying what a genius I would become. They simply didn't know I wasn't a child at all. I wondered how they would react if they knew their little son was actually a grown man. I decided it was best they never find out.
I was even allowed to go outside, though only under Elvarin's or Lyra's supervision. I wasn't allowed to wander more than ten meters from the house either. I could understand them, I was only one year old after all. When I went outside, I finally got a good look at the village. It was an ordinary village with simple stone and wooden houses. But they had one unusual trait: every yard had a lot of greenery, trees, flowers, bushes, and vegetable patches. Elves must really love plants.
I also learned there were different kinds of elves here. There were three main groups: Light Elves like me, Dark Elves, and Underground Elves. Besides elves, there were many other races like orcs, demons, humans, and beast-folk. Each race had several subgroups that could differ greatly from their kin. For example, the human race included four peoples: Siverians, Westmars, Asgards, and Dwarves. Alak told me Westmars had dark, sometimes even black skin, while Asgards mostly had light hair and skin. There were also many beast-folk like War-Ghul, Terr'ain, and Nak'ir. They too had three main peoples. It seemed the number three was very popular here. Orcs and Demons were separate races. Demons also had many kinds: Ult'gor, Gha'Rast, Nightmarks, and Ill'Viscs. All these races lived on just one continent, Asperra, and there was another continent, Tenebra.
Since Elvarin was a Healer, I tried to ask her about the magic she used. I chose a moment when Elvarin was working in the garden and Lyra was away. I had to play the perfectly curious toddler. I crawled towards her, trying to make my movements look clumsy but fast (internally I was happy my new legs actually obeyed me). I sat next to her in the shade of a bush and, trying my best to sound like a child, began my interrogation.
— Ma-ma! — I said, dragging the word out to sound sweet. — Why... did your hand glow?
Elvarin put down her trowel and smiled at me, gently stroking my white hair.
— You mean when we helped that traveler? — she patted my head. — That, my dear, is called magic. You will learn more about it soon, when you go to school.
— But... how? — I feigned genuine confusion. — How did you do it? Is it like in Papa's stories? Can you make fire?
I frowned, implying that this was an interesting topic for a child. I needed her to reveal all the magic types to me.
Elvarin shook her head, her pointed ears twitching slightly.
— Yes, you can make fire too. There are many kinds of magic.
— What... other magics... are there? — I looked up at her from under my brows, pretending to be terribly curious but not wanting to offend my mother.
I looked at her with wide eyes, feigning absolute childlike innocence.
— Of course there are. Our world is full of magic, my little ray of light. There is destruction magic, that's like the fire you ask about. There is healing magic... And there is alteration magic. But all of this, Airon, requires a lot of power, which we call mana.
She looked at me, seeking approval. I nodded, showing I understood the "big and important things".
— Do I... have mana?
I was waiting for this question. I needed her to explain genetic predisposition and potential.
— Of course you do. You are our son... And since your father and I are strong mages, you will certainly have a large reserve. But it's a long journey, little one. You just don't know how to direct it yet.
I buried my face in her dress, hiding a triumphant smirk. A large reserve, huh? Excellent. That means I have a chance to master this cursed yet interesting destruction magic. But for now...
— Mama... why can only elves heal? — I asked, rubbing my cheek lightly against her soft fabric.
Elvarin put down her trowel again and picked me up, settling me on her lap. Her thin aristocratic features softened.
— My little smart one! All intelligent races can wield magic, Airon. But it depends on the reserve of mana nature put into their body at birth. We children of nature — she lightly touched her pointed ears — get the most. We are the most gifted. That is why there are so many Healers and great mages among elves.
— What about others? Why... can only elves heal? — Humans... can't?
— Of course they can! Humans are a very strong race, they are second only to us in giftedness! It is just harder for them. They have little mana — she pronounced the word with slight superiority. — Look:
Elvarin raised her finger.
— When you learn a spell, you read an incantation; it helps mana take the right form, like a cookie cutter. But true mastery is Silent Magic.
— What is that like?
— That is when you can create a spell with thought alone, without words. It's not easy. Only those with good magical potential can learn this. First you read the spell to feel it. Then, after long training, you learn to skip the words and do it only with the power of thought.
I nodded, remembering. So Silent Magic was a sign of talent that needed to be developed. That was good. If I wasn't lucky with a pure mana reserve, I could compensate with discipline and intellect.
— So if I train a lot, I can cast spells without words?
— If you have the potential, you will be able to! And you certainly have it. Look, your sister Lyra has already started learning it! And you, you will be even better.
I clenched my fists. Healing, healing, only healing!
— Why... won't Papa teach me fire? I want to be strong to protect you!
I put on my most serious face, trying to look like a young knight.
— Your father knows fire magic, that is true. But you must understand, Airon, we need to be very careful with choosing an element. If the Healer talent is strong in the family, then your talent will be in that too. If you spend your mana on other destructive magic, then your main strength, healing, won't develop properly. This is very important. Our path is the path of life, my little elf.
I sighed deeply, realizing I couldn't push her further. She had given me all the necessary theory.
— I promise, Mama. — I mumbled, trying to look obedient. — I will learn... healing.
Part 5
Just over three years had passed since I was reborn in this world. During that time I had learned to walk and even run perfectly. They now let me go farther than the doorstep so I could play with the neighbor's children. But I wasn't the least bit interested. Since I wasn't a child, I started teaching myself to read in the Elven language. The letters and grammar were very complicated, but I had mastered four languages in my past life so I was able to learn even this one quite quickly.
I also learned I was born on the continent of Asperra, specifically in the Dominion of Aelinar. As I understood it, this state included three main peoples: Light Elves, Dark Elves, and Westmars. It was strange that a human group was part of the Elven Dominion. Westmars were one of the human peoples. There were four in total: Westmars, Dwarves (Gnomes), Asgards, and Siverians. Besides the elves, there were many other races like orcs, demons, humans, and beast-folk. Each race had several subgroups that could differ greatly from their kin. For example, the human race included four peoples: Siverians, Westmars, Asgards, and Dwarves. Alak told me Westmars had dark, sometimes even black skin, while Asgards mostly had light hair and skin. There were also many beast-folk like War-Ghul, Terr'ain, and Nak'ir. They too had three main peoples. It seemed the number three was very popular here. Orcs and Demons were separate races. Demons also had many kinds: Ult'gor, Gha'Rast, Nightmarks, and Ill'Viscs. All these races lived on just one continent, Asperra, and there was another continent, Tenebra.
My parents often praised me, constantly telling Lyra to take me as an example. Lyra was not as successful in her studies as I was so she constantly got upset when I was compared to her. I even felt sorry for her, my parents didn't know I was actually over thirty years old. My success in my studies was due to my experience from my past life. Lyra had no such experience, she grew up as an ordinary child without any special talents. Despite this, she treated me well, I would even say kindly. She looked after me when my parents were not around. She played with me, read books, and taught me to read and write. If it weren't for her, I wouldn't have learned the language so quickly. She had recently started attending a magic school so she was quite good at reading and writing.
After I managed to learn to read, I asked my sister to teach me magic.
— Lyra, please, can you teach me to cast spells?
She looked at me with a surprised expression, then sighed and said:
— Airon, you are still too small for magic, when you turn five they will send you to a magic school. That's where you will learn to cast spells.
— Oh please, sister, I already know how to read and waiting until I turn five is too long.
I tried to look pleading, as if I was about to cry. I imagine how ridiculous it looked from the side. A thirty-year-old man making baby eyes. But I hoped it would work, I was very impatient to learn magic.
Lyra looked at me for a while, then looked up deep in thought. After a minute of contemplation, she replied:
— Alright, fine, I will teach you a couple of simple spells.
— Hurray! Thank you, Lyra!
— Just don't tell our parents about this, you are still too young to study magic.
— Okay, I won't tell them, I promise!
Hurray, it worked! Finally, I could experience what it was like to cast a spell. After my words, Lyra got up and went to another room. A few minutes later she returned with a book. The book looked centuries old. It didn't look very big, maybe just a couple of hundred pages. I figured it was a book of simple spells for beginning mages.
Lyra sat down across from me, and I sat on the floor listening carefully to her.
— Okay, let's start with the basics. Our entire world is created from magical particles called microns. Mountains, plants, animals, and all of us are made of microns. And magic is the manipulation of microns.
So are these microns something like atoms in my world? Everything living and non-living is made up of these particles.
— Also the level of magic mastery is divided into ranks.
She sat down across from me on the floor. I sat with the most focused expression a child could possibly muster.
— There are six stages in total, and they show how strong you are and how many spells you have mastered.
I listened, nodding actively. The hierarchies from my old MMORPGs immediately flashed through my mind.
— The first stage is Beginner. — Lyra held up one finger. — This is the very start. You only know the simplest spells. At this level you can, for example, heal a small cut or create a tiny fireball. The second stage is Intermediate. — She held up a second finger, a proud look on her face. — This is already serious. You can quickly heal fractures or create more powerful fireballs that can scare a wolf. Our school trains students for this rank! You spend a lot of mana, but the spells become useful. The third stage is Advanced. — Lyra bent another finger. — This is the level our mother is at now! An Advanced mage can heal serious wounds that would kill an ordinary person.
— What about the rest?
— It gets harder further on. The fourth is Special Rank. — Her voice lowered, becoming almost reverent. — That's our father's level. He can heal almost mortal wounds and serve in the Mages' Guild.
— What about the other two ranks? — I became genuinely curious.
— Master is the next stage. Someone who can single-handedly fight an entire squad or stop a small natural disaster. But the most interesting is Legend. — Lyra looked at me with admiration. — These are the greatest mages! They say only one in five thousand mages reaches this level. They can change the course of battles, destroy entire armies, and create spells no one has ever seen.
— What level are you at?
— I'm at the Beginner level right now, but next year I will study Intermediate healing magic.
— Do you study other types of magic too?
— Yes, but our school specializes in healing magic, we also study a bit of alteration magic.
— Lyra, will you teach me destruction magic?
— Right now we will only learn healing, destruction is too early for you, and besides I don't have a strong grasp of that magic.
— Oh please, sister!
— No, either it's my way or you learn magic at school.
How stubborn. Why do I need this healing magic? I want to create destructive spells like in some MMORPG. Well, I didn't have much of a choice now. Either I obey her or I have to wait another year and a half. And I didn't want to wait that long.
— Fine, have it your way.
— That's better. Now listen carefully, this is the most important part. All incantations for spells are written in Sphere Runes.
— What is that?
— Sphere Runes or the Spherian language is a language created by the God Spherum himself. Every sound in this language perfectly matches the flow of mana. When you read the incantation, you don't need to think about the spell's form. The words themselves create that form. After that you need to direct mana into the limb you intend to use for healing and guide the flow of mana there. The incantation is a ready-made instruction for the mana. That's why casting spells without it is very difficult.
— So I can cast spells with any limb? Even my foot?
— Yes, but no one casts spells with their feet, it's inconvenient and ineffective. Everyone usually casts spells with their hands.
Since you can cast spells with any limb in this world, does that mean I can cast spells with a third leg? A stupid idea, I probably won't check.
— Since you don't have any more questions, let's begin. Read this spell aloud and direct the flow of mana into your hand.
Lyra gave me the book and showed me what to read. The words were written in the Elven language I knew, but the words themselves were from the Spherian language. I took the book in my right hand and extended my left hand. Okay, now I had to do what she said. Read the spell aloud and direct the mana into my free hand.
— Vahra Nul Skahr, Zahn Ruhn Grahn, Viita Reka Sol-Ahn! (May the pain depart like a shadow, may the disease melt away like smoke, may life return like the dawn)
As soon as I started reading, a small tremor ran through my body. Then I tried to direct the mana into my right hand. As soon as I did, my hand started glowing with a light green color. I feel it, I feel the mana moving into my hand and then to my fingertips. It was a pleasant, yet strange sensation. I continued directing mana into my hand for a few more seconds after reading the spell. But then my strength started rapidly fading. My mana was running out, it seemed. I cut off the flow of mana to my hand, surprisingly it was easy to do. When I finished, I noticed I was a little weak, but I still had plenty of strength, or rather mana, left.
— Did I succeed? — I asked Lyra
— Yes, now let's go outside and try to cast the healing spell silently.
We went outside. The weather was beautiful. Lyra went up to a flower growing in our yard and gently broke its stem. Then she turned to me and said:
— Now try to silently heal this flower.
I approached the flower. Pointing my right hand at it, I closed my eyes. Okay, now I need to direct mana into my hand and imagine healing the flower. Nothing complicated, I thought, but something went wrong. The same tremor ran through my body as before, but now I couldn't direct it to my hand. What happened? Could I not cast spells silently? I struggled next to the flower for about ten seconds, trying to direct the mana into my hand. But it was useless, the flower remained broken.
— I can't do it.
— Try with both hands, it will be easier.
Is it easier with two hands? Well, alright, I'll try. I stood by the flower again and extended both hands, concentrating mana in them. Then I closed my eyes and pictured the spell. After a couple of seconds, the same small tremor appeared again as before. I tried to direct it into my hands while imagining the spell. A moment later, I felt the mana flow smoothly into my hands. It flowed through my arms like blood in veins and finally reached my fingers. I felt how quickly I was getting tired, though. My head was starting to hurt. Was that supposed to happen?
I stood still for about five seconds, all the while directing mana without stopping. When the headache intensified, I heard Lyra's words:
— You did it.
I slowly opened my eyes. The same flower was before me, but now it was not broken. I succeeded?
I couldn't contain the joy that filled me. That meant I had a talent for magic. After the first failure, I had panicked a little that I wouldn't be able to learn Silent Magic, but now I knew I had the talent! After my success, I felt intense weakness in my legs, and then my eyes clouded over and I collapsed onto the ground.