《My Grudge is not ending!》


 Prologue: God of J and Reincarnation

    Oh, I died.


    There was a black membrane around me. I couldn''t see anything, not even my arms. I couldn''t feel anything...there was a only a weird sense of being suspended in air, except that there is no air at all.


    I''m breathing out of habit, but I could tell that I''m surrounded by nothingness.


    My last memory has been me walking in on my three-year lover having passionate sex with my sister on the maroon couch that we bought for our three year anniversary, the same day that my sister came over for a toast on her new job.


    I was so shocked that I dropped all the cups and snack platters I was holding. Even that did not stop the obscene sounds that were echoing along the hallway where I stood.


    I stood still for a second, as the two voices hit their highest and loudes notes. There was silence, and cautious rumbling of clothes and stealthy steps. But I was not going to object myself to the next few minutes of embarrassment and melodrama.


    So I spun on my heel and walked out of the house. There could have been astonished gasps behind me as I ran, but I paid them no heed.


    I stood facing the lift, my breath was slow and shallow. There was something nagging at my mind, but I resolutely step into the opened door of the lift. There was darkness, a sudden loss in gravity, an excruciating pain...and here I was.


    It was a lift failure. The feeling that nagged at me was a warning from my neighbour that the lift was acting weird those last few days.


    For some reason, I did not feel depressed. Just like there was nothing around me, I also felt like nothing was causing me pain or betrayal. I could almost get used to this darkness, this sense of freedom. This feeling of not having to talk to any human kind.


    "How did you find the trip?"


    There was a voice, a male voice, that spoke in my brain.


    It was a happy, lighthearted voice that was like a kind senior talking to his junior.


    ..It reminded me of him, and I could not help but feel pricked. It wasn''t the best voice to converse with me right now. And just when I had hoped that I didn''t have to talk anyone.


    "I''m sorry...in light of your pre-death circumstances, we have given you ample time to get used to your new body and new spirit. But I''m afraid we really cannot extend the transfer time any longer, or you would be unable to go to the tangible space and be stuck here in between the worlds."


    ..


    ..


    .


    Maybe I''m in a coma. It sounded like the things that my eighth grade cousin was saying all the time, about him being master of space and time..


    ''Sister, worry not; for I, Doom of Darkness, The Universe Master of Time and Space, will protect you from all the evil guys out there!!''


    "Um, Madam? Hm, you sound okay, alright! I''m afraid you can no longer spend your time in this "darkness", this "freedom" anymore."


    ...


    "Madam? Oh my goodness, don''t go silent on me! You don''t want to talk to people alright, but you need to get out of here! Or I''ll be blamed for letting an accursed soul wander in between the worlds!"


    ..accursed?


    Is he...referring to me?This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    POOF!


    Suddenly, a man, a young man, with brown flaxen hair, and light coffee-coloured eyes, appeared in front of me. He was wearing...a student uniform, with pale blue shirt, dark brown tie, and jet black pants. His sleeves were neatly folded into 2 layers, showing a slightly pale complexion. His almond-shaped eyes were half-curled into a gentle smile.


    That lips...


    Suddenly, there was wind blowing behind my neck. Strong, aggressive wind that would have completely undo my light braid and throw my hair into a veritable mess...if I still have hair that is.


    There was a vague feeling of the wind pushing at my neck and my rear body, but after it was gone, I couldn''t feel a thing again. Do I even have a proper body?


    "Hey! Stop that! I, I was just trying to take the image of someone you''re familiar with..."


    Well you chose the wrong person! Him, him of all persons...


    WWWHHHOOOOSSSHHHH---


    "Alright wait wait, let me pick something else...ummmm...okay this would do!"


    The darkness seemed to eat up the lean body - it gave me an oddly satisfying feeling - and what took it place was the smaller stature of a young girl. She was wearing the same uniform, just with black skirt and pink ribbons instead. The ribbons looked out of place in a set of uniform full of mild colours.


    That''s not the usual uniform, isn''t that--


    "Yea it''s not. Isn''t it cuter this way? Your uniform was way too boring with just those light colours."


    ..You''re not one to talk, suspicious stranger!!


    Then I realize, since I couldn''t feel my mouth nor my throat, I had no way of speaking out to retort to that remark of the stranger.


    "No need to, I''m speaking directly to your mind. Save the time. You can''t talk in this corporeal form anyway."


    ...should I pretend that I didn''t hear that or--


    "Oi! Stop it already. I went to all the trouble of looking for your friend from as far as three years ago just to have a normal conversation with you. Can we finally talk about serious stuffs now?"


    ..You were the one who started commenting about people''s uniform.


    "...What an uncute soul. Anyways, time is running so I''ll make this short--"


    Make what short? I really don''t understand all your "spirit" and "between worlds" business...


    "...nevermind all that. You won''t come back here anyways. Or I hope so. You can''t be that unlucky to come back here again."


    ..you never know.


    "Come on, don''t be too pessimistic. I''m An''nui, your attendant for your transfer from World ERT17 to World MAX49. It''s okay if you don''t understand what I was talking about just now, but just know that whatever I''m telling you after this is going to be super beneficial to you, so listen up!"


    ...


    "..I can''t see your face but that silence is very irritating. You managed to insult me with a completely blank mind...Anyways, back to the serious bits. So actually in your previous life, you got cursed by one of your ancestors, and thus your life ended in the tragic way it did. But strong and vengeful grudge seemed to flow in your family, so after your death you also became a cursed spirit also. To prevent another tragedy from happening upon the next generation, I decided to bring you to another world where you can begin an another life and hopefully, dispel that vengeful aura that is possessing your spirit right now."


    ...Okay.


    I''ve come this far. I may as well try to make sense of it.


    "You''ve only just acknowledged my existence? Unbelievable, what a completely uncute spirit..."


    ...Anyways, so apparently...apparently what? My life was shitty because of some old lady (only old ladies kept such long grudge) and I was supposed to start a second life to prevent myself from becoming the next vengeful old lady?


    If I had really become one and cursed the child of that couple, it would be---


    "Stop right there!! You can''t be thinking such scary and violent thoughts! Here is where you''re supposed to be dispelling your vengeful feelings..."


    ...Well, I''m not feeling that vengeful though. I''m just a bit, bit curious about my niece...


    "Of course you''re feeling alright. I suppressed your negative feelings and memories in order to have a safe talk with the sane you. You, what a pure vengeful spirit! If you were not such a dangerous power to the balance of the world of ERT17, I may have just crystallized you and put you in my soul collections. Such beautiful obsidian colour of hatred..."


    ...What is this lunat--


    "No! I''m not a lunatic!"


    I haven''t even finis--


    "Stop distracting me! Shut up and listen: so to make it fair, you''re going into your second life with a totally random status. Can''t bless you too much or you''ll destroy MAX49 as well...but don''t worry! I''ll make sure you have a happy and worry-free life this time around!"


    ...


    "What is with that silence!! Are you doubting my power? Hmph, fine, then when you are able to talk and use magic, I''ll pass down something that you can use to talk to me. You can tell me if you run into any problems and I''ll blast them into smithereens! I''ll show you the power of the God of J..."


    God of J...?


    "..."


    God of J...?


    "...Please call me An''nui. Forget what I said."


    Okay, God of J. So am I leaving now or...?


    "Yes, of course. It''s almost time up also. Just a few more minutes and you would be free from my spiritual restraints and could run free to any world you want, with your hatred intact..."


    ...


    "..."


    Maybe I should---


    "No forget that!! You are going into MAX49! And I''m keeping that mental restraint on you until I think you''re sane enough without it. With that, I bid you adieu! Thanks for using our Soul Transfer Service! Bye bye!"


    Wait I haven''t fi---


    ...

 Sir Marcus and The white child

    Good morning everyone. Rise and shine.


    The sun was as warm as ever today as well. It doesn¡¯t seem like it was going to rain.


    Well now it¡¯s raining. Great.


    The lady picked the entirety of me up in one swoop and walked briskly inside, muttering unintelligible words (to me) that sounded like:


    ¡°It was still sunny just now, how come?¡±


    I almost wanted to ask the same question, but the only difference was that I knew the answer myself, so there was no need to waste my breath on that. And there was the fact that I was still a little toddler who couldn¡¯t even move half of my body, let alone utter a sound...


    I was moved from the rather comfortable position of lying alone in a cradle next to the window sill, taking in the sun completely, to one of the inner rooms. I think it was supposed to be called the Second Reading Room, but that was unnecessary information for a toddler.


    It was a small, cozy study. Not exactly small, when I was actually brought inside of it instead of just looking past it. The furnitures really looked a notch more luxurious here than my usual sleeping and dining location, so I took sometimes to observe my surroundings.


    The typical Old European/Victorian style room, with wooden a table, bookshelves filled to the brim with thick and colourful books, and a very warm-looking fireplace. Maroon carpet filled the room, which looks much more comfortable to sleep in than my small bedroom.


    It was a little bit difficult to imagine that a room like this was just a few doors away from the furnitureless, windowless and carpetless room that I sleep in.


    Holding the little toddler that was me in a way that was a little bit tighter than necessary, the lady spoke in a rather small voice, much different from the carefree tone she used moments ago. Putting aside the discomfort of being pressed into her well-endowed chest, I strained my ears and tried to make out their conversation.


    It was surprisingly boring, living as a baby.


    ¡°Sir..., I have to..., I can¡¯t possibly...and...raining...possible...here?¡±


    ¡°..., I may not be able to...small child...here also...¡±


    ¡°Sir......please¡±


    ¡°...Alright.¡±


    The lady bowed deeply. I was more grateful for the fact that she let up on her grip and I could breathe normally again.


    She looked at me, with a look half of reproach (for whichever sin have I committed? I could not fathom) and half of...pity.


    ¡°Child, stay here and behave yourself.¡±


    Glancing over her shoulder at the figure that was now fully looking at the paperwork that filled the wooden paper, she whispered again:


    ¡°You only have Sir Marcus to protect you in the house of Duke Howard.¡±


    ...


    I sat, or half-sat-half-crawled, on the maroon carpet. It was thicker and more furry than it looked. Stood in front of me was the imposing bookshelves filled with thick books that could probably be fatal if dropped on me. I never knew bookshelves were such a fear-inducing objects until I became a toddler.


    I was thinking of the lady with slight resentment. She had left me in this uncomfortable pose without thinking of how much these little muscles in my body must be creaking from having to support the full weight of a baby (which was not much, but still). I tried to flip over and lie down, but as expected I could not move the lower half of my body as I wanted and could only remain in such a position.


    At least the carpet was comfortable.


    I looked over to ¡°Sir Marcus¡± working at the table. He donned a rugged light brown hair with red eyes...no kidding, red eyes. I would be thinking of a vampire right now if I was still in my previous world, but who was I kidding.


    God of J told me, or slipped up, that people can use magic in this world. Just that statement was enough to prove that having weird eye colours was nothing unusual. In fact, I was the odd one out to think such eye colours were weird in the first place.


    I wanted to touch my own hair, but it was too short to be visible. I wondered if I had similar hair and eye color to this ¡°Sir Marcus¡±, seeing that we live in the same house...but on second thought, I hope not. For some reason, I felt that having brown hair was really unacceptable. Red eyes are fine though.


    ¡°Sir Marcus¡± was remarkably handsome for his age, in my opinion. He couldn¡¯t be less than 20 and was probably less than 30 years of age, but he could pass for a mature-looking 18-year-old young man. However, if he kept on squinting his eyebrows over looking at the documents, he was going to get those wrinkles soon and became an old man faster than he could blink.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    Well, it was none of my business. I turned my head around. There was nothing that was interest. So, so boring...


    CLACK


    A door was opened somewhere. I turned my head to the source.


    A whole head of an ashen grey was situated at the entrance. A kid ¨C a legitimate kid ¨C was standing there, a whole two heads taller than me. And if my eyes were not deceiving me, he was even straining his back to stand up straight, which made him look even taller.


    Well, taller from the perspective of a toddler at least. When I glanced at the height of the wooden table in front of him, he seemed just as small and petite as I was in front of him.


    Keeping my uncomfortable pose, I stared at him.


    He was wearing snug little clothes that looked comfortable to move in and yet still seemed quite more luxurious than the garb that ¡°Sir Marcus¡± had on himself. His feet fit in small shoes that looked like intricate embroidery works, with something that looked suspiciously like gold sprinkled at the edge.


    What a piece of work.


    The little brother took small steps into the room. He was bumbling here and there a bit, but managed to look composed nevertheless. He seemed to try really hard to not look like a kid at all.


    Sir Marcus did not lift his eyes from his documents. From where he was standing, the little brother was hidden from sight, as the wooden table was really a huge obstacle.


    I watched as he tried to call out to Sir Marcus, without actually making any noise. I wondered if thoughtlessly making noise was looked down on in this society.


    Sir Marcus showed no intention of shifting his attention from his work. The little brother was clearly exasperated, but he was still composed, too composed for a kid. The room was still strangely quiet save for the rustling sound of Sir Marcus shuffling through different pieces of document.


    The little brother was a few steps away from dejectedly calling out to Sir Marcus, when suddenly there was a strong wind that rushed in. Some of the paper fluttered about, as Sir Marcus tumbled over himself to grab his paperwork. The little brother was pushed again the wooden table, but he did not seem to be hurt.


    I, on the other hand, was the one that was most affected. The cold wind reached me and I felt a sudden and uncontrollable urge to shrink and cry out loud. It was dignity-shattering, to cry out at one raft of wind, but toddlers are creatures of wonder. No sooner had I collected my bearings than I had been crying like the end of the world had arrived.


    My cries shocked the two people in the room. The little brother was shocked for half a second before, glancing fearfully at his elder, dashing over to where I was. Sir Marcus was clearly in a daze and was even further astonished at the sight of that ashen head running towards me.


    He was really a kid after all. His way of running really made me want to cuddle him. But I probably couldn¡¯t in this life time. This kid was most likely a few years older than me, and unless I was very close to him, he would most likely outgrow me by the time my arms are long enough to cuddle someone.


    As he ran over, I looked at the face beneath the ashen-coloured head. He had bright amber eyes, and peerlessly white skin. His skin was a bit too pale for a kid his age, but I figured it was an inborn trait. His whole complexion was of an ivory white, so much so that he would have looked like a ghost if he had worn nothing but white. So young, so pure...


    His amber eyes were burning with something akin to concern and hurry, a mixture of the impulsiveness of a kid still growing up and a rare drop of maturity and wisdom beyond years. Maybe I was reading too much into it. His eyes were just really beautiful.


    I had the urge to shy away from this white child, when I realized that I could move naught but the irises of my eyes. So I resigned myself to his childlike hands patting my head and my cheeks, clumsily asking me to stop crying and stay quiet.


    I had long regained my bearings, so I stopped. The white child showed a bit of surprise, then he smiled really widely, apparently very happy with himself. He really was a cute child.


    And best of all, he realized what an awkward position I was in then, and prompty flip me on my back so i can lie comfortably on the thick carpet. What a wonderfully cute child.


    The chandelier atop the room ceilings looked fitted with delicate decorations and gems (that were not meant for the purpose of illuminations) and would surely be fatal if dropped onto the me now. I wanted to move to a different position but the white child just put his small pudge hand on top of my head and whispered to me in a quiet voice:


    ¡°Shhh, please don¡¯t move around so much. Uncle looked so tired today. It¡¯s best if we kept him company in silence.¡±


    I glanced over to where Sir Marcus was standing. He had also regained his composure and was looking over where we were with a gentle look. He was donning a face that would probably sweep ladies of my age off their feet, but I was, for some reasons, very resistant to that kind of look. And that brown hair of his was getting on my nerves...


    ¡°Thank you, Julian. You came at the right time.¡±


    The kid froze for a bit. He probably was debating on whether to tell his Uncle that he actually stood there for quite a while until the (un)fortunate wind came.


    For such a young child, he sure was thoughtful.


    He then smiled at his Uncle and said:


    ¡°I¡¯m glad that I was of help to you, Uncle. Especially when you have so much work to do these days.¡±


    ¡°It is my responsibility after all. Did you need me for anything?¡±


    ¡°Well, I was going to ask if you could teach me some swordmanship. However, I could not trouble you with this seeing the amount of work you were given by Grandfather.¡±


    ¡°...You are such a kind child, Julian. I cannot accompany you now, but let us meet at the training ground in a few hours¡¯ time.¡±


    ¡°..!! Thank you so much Uncle!¡±


    I could make out words by the child, but Sir Marcus¡¯ speech was a total blur. But I guess I was still a toddler; there was no need for me to rush in learning their language.


    Drowsiness came over me, and I closed my eyes in obedience.


    I was not aware of the soft look that the white child ¨CJulian- gave me as I welcomed sleep.


    ¡°..Uncle, is this Charlotte?¡±


    ¡°Yes. She looks just like Leticia, with her little black eyes. I was afraid she would cry the moment Dana left, but she was very quiet the whole time.¡±


    ¡°I wish I could have seen Aunt Leticia...Grandfather said she was very pretty.¡±


    ¡°...Yes she was. Charlotte is going to look so much like her when she grows up...She was also a quiet woman...¡±


    ¡°Uncle...Charlotte is going to be an excellent noble lady in the future. Just now when I spoke to her..I think she understood what i was saying!¡±


    ¡°Fufu...Julian, you really are a kind child. I¡¯m sorry, but I will have to go back to fig¡ªdealing with these paperwork. I will see you at the training ground at 5.¡±


    ¡°Of course, Uncle. I look forward to receiving your guidance today as well.¡±

 Father and Magic

    I came to the Second Reading Room several times after that. Different from the first time, Sir Marcus took his time looking at me in between his paperwork, with such a lovesick sugar-sweet look that I almost convinced myself to be his lover for a few seconds.


    This person seemed like someone who really, really dotes on his children. I was lucky that I was still a toddler and the other party a fully-grown man. Looking from the intensity of his gaze, he would probably crush me to death with one of his hugs alone.


    Thankfully, he seemed to be aware of this too, so Sir Marcus was content at just looking at me from afar, while I was left lying comfortably on the thick carpet.


    Though I couldn¡¯t help but shiver every time he turned that look in my direction.


    I did not like his brown hair, not at all. But he seemed to genuinely love me. Could he be my father, perhaps?


    One day, my caretaker lady, instead of putting me on the carpet like usual, put me in the taut arms of somebody else instead. I immediately realized those ridiculously lovesick eyes, and was genuinely scared for my life for a moment. However, I seemed to be safe for now. His hug was a bit less comfortable than the lady¡¯s, but that was only to be expected from a grown man¡¯s embrace.


    ..I guess I did not want to mention this, but it felt safe to be in those arms.


    I could not remember the last time I hug my parents back in my previous life. My memories after university graduation had been hazy at best, but something told me that I should not probe too hard. It was okay to indulge in this sense of security for a while.


    I had missed this feeling of being protected, of being loved unconditionally.


    I never saw my mother. I didn¡¯t think too much of it though. Sir Marcus..no, Father seemed to love me twice as much as a normal parent would. I couldn¡¯t respond to that feeling yet, but I would at least lie and sleep peacefully in those comforting arms.


    Time went by. Some days I would be left alone next to the window sill, looking over the sky from dawn to sunset. Some days I would be sleeping in Father¡¯s arms as he scribbled through his infinite stack of paperwork.


    Some days, people would come visit Father as he worked from morning till night. Women wearing the same clothes as my caretaker lady, some of them would bring food or drinks to my Father, who would gobble them down quickly and get back to his paperwork. A butler with a kind and sympathetic look on his face, as he refilled the stack of paperwork that Father went through and make it high again. And once in a while, the white child would come. Those times, I would tug on Father¡¯s sleeve, watch as he was astonished for a full second, before pointing towards the door where the white child stood waiting.


    Time went by.


    Out of boredom and repetition, I was finally able to understand at least 80% of what people around me was saying.


    I could finally move my arms, just enough to notify Father when I needed to do my business.


    I could crawl a bit, just a bit, though I would rather fall down half way so Father could laugh exasperatedly at my ¡°efforts¡± and pick me up eventually.


    I could poke at the books at the bottom layer of the bookshelf when my Father was not around, but as expected, a toddler¡¯s arm strength was so insignificant that I might as well be crippled. I did wish, often, that some forms of entertainment would fall out of the sky to help me pass the time besides sleeping and looking at paperwork. But having a book fall down on me would surely kill me in one strike, so I dispel that notion.


    My wish did get granted though.


    One day, one very beautiful day, my Father picked me up and carried me out of the Second Reading Room. We walked on the hall way, and instead of turning left to where my room was, Father turned right this time. I noted the change, and was fairly excited. Finally I was going to see something else in this house!


    I pushed aside the weird feeling I had when we walked along the hall way. There were other things to think about!


    Father walked out from the shaded hall way, and into a garden. The white child was standing at the middle of a stoned platform. He seemed to have grown a bit, his posture slightly more composed. But even that could not hide the light of excitement in those amber eyes of his.


    He was holding a staff. A short silver staff with green gems on top.


    Father gave me to a lady wearing the caretaker clothes standing at the side. This lady did not hold me with a lot of force. It did not feel as comfortable as it should have though. I really did get too used to being held by my father¡¯s rough arms.


    Father walked over to the stoned platform. The white child gave a slight bow, with as much elegance and poise as he could muster. But I could tell that he was quite excited for what was going to happen now.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    They were not holding any weapons, so sword practice was out. They were both wearing light clothes, no armor, so melee fight was out. The only thing that was out of place was the short staff.


    I strained my eyes. I had a hunch of what was to come.


    And I was right: it was magic.


    Father nodded at the child. The white child tightly gripped the staff for a second, before exhaling slowly. He then closed his eyes.


    I could feel, feel, that something was shifting in the area around us. I could not make out what it was, but it felt like something dense in the air was thinning, and was gathering towards where the white child was standing.


    The gem on the staff suddenly shone a brilliant green color, so much so that it illuminated the whole garden. Or I was just not used to any kind of gems that could shine so brightly like that.


    What followed was a wind, a strong gush of wind, that cut across my Father¡¯s torso. It was such an aggressive wind that I could feel a wave of air hitting me and the lady holding me in the face.


    I looked over at my Father¡¯s torso. He seemed fine, but his hand was hovering over his left side. The strong wind must have left an impact, but it was not an injury. My father seemed to have trained his body to some extent.


    The white child opened his eyes, his amber orbs bright in apparent happiness. He looked over hopefully at Father, who gave a satisfied nod.


    ¡°Good job Julian! Now you know how to cast chantless magic. How did it feel?¡±


    ¡°It was amazing, Uncle! There was so much magical energy in the air that I felt like I could cast any spells! But this method really takes time to gather the magical energy in the air...¡±


    ¡°With practice you¡¯ll be able to do it more easily. This magic allows you to cast more magic in your life time. Not everyone was born with an abundance of magical energy after all.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡±


    ¡°And in battles, you can prevent your opponent from knowing what magic you have set up. Against first-time opponents, you could even hide your strongest and weakest elements in order to gain an upperhand. Of course, that does not apply to you, who has high aptitude in all elements. But you must not be complacent with your inborn talents. Strong magic used in untrained hands is just a waste of magical power. So make sure to practice using magic along with your sword training for transition between the two in a real battle. Do make use of your talents and train well to become a proper magic swordsman!¡±


    ¡°I understand, Uncle!¡±


    ¡°Good. Now try casting Fireball using chantless magic.¡±


    So that was magic.


    Gathering something invisible in the air in order to create miracles. I wonder if I have aptitude for it as well? Father did not cast any magic, so I did not know whether or not he could do it. But seeing that he was instructing the white child with ¡°chantless magic¡±, he should be able to to some extent right? After all, my Father did not look like a researcher but more of a soldier.


    And since this is ¡°chantless magic¡±, so there is magic with chant also? I was not sure if I could take the mental damage from chanting lines like ¡°God of Fire, heed my call and grant me your power and perform your miracles. Come forth, Fireball!!¡± like how my eighth-grade cousin used to say. Since my Father was an instructor of ¡°chantless magic¡±, I hoped that I could also perform the same feat and save myself from the embarrassment.


    It was also much more convenient. Imagine having to remember so many words for just one spell.


    The fire ball of the white child split into three dark orange balls. They glowed with great intensity, dying all the leaves in the garden with a sunset color, before disappearing away like a magic trick. Although, I was pretty sure that even my Father would get hurt if he was hit with that.


    Some sweat formed on the white child¡¯s face, but the determination on his face was unchanging. His small hand that was holding on the short staff was unwavering. His form demanded some kind of respect for his efforts ¨C for such a small child to be so focused in doing something that was not playing around. He took a few short breaths, and this time he did not close his eyes. As that invisible thing was shifting in the air again, and the gem was shining, his eyes were also glowing softly, like a pair of topaz.


    It looked a bit out of this world, a bit devoid of common sense, for someone like me who came from a world with nothing as magical as what had transpired in this garden these few minutes.


    The thought left me a bit excited. I hoped this world did not have too severe sexism, so much so that they would not let women learn magic. That would be too depressing indeed.


    The next spell was creating shards of ice. Three pointy and very sharp-looking ice shards appear above the white child¡¯s head. They were suspending using some kind of special rules of gravity, but I was going to attribute all that to magic. It was not worth it to think too much about these details.


    The shards were huge. They were twice as long as the white child, and half the width of my father¡¯s torso. They looked like dangerous weapons indeed. If a child as small as the white child could cast something like this, wasn¡¯t magic a very dangerous thing to teach to young children?


    My father sucked in a light breath. He was probably thinking the same thing. As expected of my Father.


    ¡°Okay, now slowly disperse the magical element and return the magical energy back to the surrounding.¡±


    He instructed in a clear voice. The white child nodded, and kept both of his palms firm on the handle of the staff. The three intimidating shards start emitting light at the tip, where they slowly disintegrated into little white balls of light and into the air.


    Half way through, suddenly the flow of the invisible thing around the white child was disrupted. His amber white stopped glowing. Huge beads of sweat fell down his forehead, and his face seemed even paler than usual. There was alarm in Father¡¯s eyes. A split second after the disruption, the invisible thing seemed to be dender around the ice shards that were still in the middle of disintegrating.


    ¡°...Light Shield!¡±


    My Father shouted. It was a chant, I think, but he spoke it so fast that it sounded like a blur. His magic was clearly faster than the chantless magic that the white child had been casting just now.


    Contrary to when the white child did it, there was no shift in the atmosphere. A thin golden membrane appeared right in front of my eyes ¨C it was covering the whole of my small toddler body. Another golden layer was wrapped around the small stature of the white child.


    ..I forgot, but the invisible thing that was collecting around the ice shards kept on accumulating. There was a tense silence, and a glooming feeling that something bad was going to happen. All of this happened in a split second.


    The next moment, something like a small vortex opened up near where the shards were disintegrating. There was a cackling sound, and some rays of light were bursting out of the vortex. It was like a mini black hole, just that it was not black.


    This could be dangerous.

 Magic and Healing

    I was strangely calm. Maybe it was because the scene before me was too magical, too unlike anything I had seen. I glanced at Father¡¯s worried face, and the white child, whose face had stopped being too pale and was now stricken with shock over the vortex appearing. The gem on the staff that he was clutching on was no longer glowing.


    From what I could tell, his magic was going out of control? However, the gem was not glowing, his eyes were also not glowing, which meant he was not the one controlling that vortex right now. Apparently, something went wrong with that invisible thing and now it was going haywire on its own.


    There was a brilliant spark at the vortex. It ate up the floating ice shards and gave out a very loud ZAP sound, accompanied with 2 ultra-fast lightning streaks, which seemed to burn the very air that it was travelling through.


    Lightning at close distance looked much more brilliant, and much, much more dangerous.


    Why did I feel like, it was going to come for me?


    True to my word, out of the two streaks, one of the lightning zapped towards my direction. The lady was already holding me with such loose arms; she let go of me as soon as the lightning was heading towards us.


    I didn¡¯t even have time to flail my arms helplessly. But time did feel a bit slower as my toddler self dropped from a high of over a meter towards the ground, and the beautiful lightning heading straight towards me.


    Why did I feel like, the lightning was really targeting me?


    For a second, I imagined my skin sizzling like a piece of steak on the grill. It would be quite painful. I heard adults even died at being struck by lightning, let alone toddlers. I hoped I was spared of a painful experience.


    My heart was really, really calm. Strangely calm.


    The brilliant light hit me in the face, but I only felt a wave of heat. It struck the membrane that was centimetres away from my skin. I was relieved, but was also much engrossed in observing the lightning that broke and was dispelled by the golden layer in front of me.


    Father protected me. Now I could confirm that he could do chant magic, and he was really good at it in fact. This layer seemed really thin, but it could even block lightning! Could I do something similar also?


    The other lightning hit a soil patch of the garden and burnt it black. My skin would have been similar had my father not chanted fast enough.


    Magic was wonderful, but it really was dangerous to leave it in the hands of small little kids.


    Although it was not really his fault, the white child¡¯s face was deathly pale as he looked at my toddler self lying on the floor. I tried to crawl back up, but there was a sharp pain at my back.


    I had forgotten that the little bones in my body was obviously not strong enough to support my little toddler self when I fell from that height just now. The lightning bursting in front of me had clearly distracted me from that fact.


    Deciding that it would be best not to move anything, I laid on my back motionlessly. Thankfully the sun was not too bright today. I could see the architecture on the outer wall of the building I was staying in all these time. It was intricate from all those flowers and curves...not something you would see in the modern world outside of museums.


    I had almost forgotten, my doting father was here, as well as a seemingly very responsible and mature child. Well, he ran over to my side even faster than Father did, and though he looked very anxious, he did not dare to touch me and could only look over with worry and guilt all over his amber eyes. I wanted to pat his head and tell him that it was not his fault (the lady really should have held me a bit tighter), but the pain in my back was telling me not to move a single muscle.


    Father came over like the wind. He was calm in his demeanor, but his red eyes were flaring with anxiety. He wrapped his fingers around my back very gently, much more gently than how he held me all the time, and lifted me up. It was painful, but I held back the urge to cry. Father was clearly a soldier, so I could not expect him to have soft cotton candy hands to be able to painlessly carry me away. He was already so wrecked with worry; I would not want to worry him even further.


    ..He sure had grown on me.


    At the edge of my vision, the white child was trotting along us, his eyes filled with guilt. He was gripping the staff so hard that it looked as if the small muscles of his palm were going to break. His face was pale and his eyes were down cast.


    I did not like that look very much.


    He was thinking too much for a kid.


    So for the first time, I tried to exercise my vocal chord. It was a very weird feeling, to try to use something I had almost forgotten how to because it had been such a long time.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    The word that came out...was just a small squeak.


    Father¡¯s hands that were holding on to me shook slightly (which was painful, and I held back once more), and he muttered ¡°Charlotte?¡±, but his feet became even quicker.


    I turned my neck and looked hard at the white child. He was also shocked at my ¡°word¡±, the guilt temporarily being replaced by surprise in his amber eyes. We locked eyes, and I took a long look at his beautiful amber eyes.


    Then, by some instincts, I raised the corners of my lips, and smiled so hard that my eyes were half closed. My face muscles felt cramped from lack of use, but I was sure that I was smiling as hard as I could.


    The white child opened his eyes wide at my smile. His amber eyes were bright again, like the curious look that a kid should have, instead of a guilt-stricken face that he had a few seconds ago.


    Suddenly, Father took a turn into a room. The door was closed before the white child could come in. My face immediately fell.


    Father was speaking in a loud voice; he really was a soldier and not an office worker. I thought that this side of his, the side that was less calm and spoke more clearly, was a bit more lovable than how he was normally.


    Of course, I was not going to injure myself just to see this flustered face of his. It was not good to worry your (only) parent needlessly. My back was really hurting from his hold though.


    ¡°Miss Clara, please help my child!¡±


    ¡°...Sir Marcus, you know very well...that I am not allowed to use my magical power on that child!¡±


    ¡°But she is still a baby! This kind of injury would cripple her when she grows up! She needs your healing, Miss Clara!¡±


    ¡°Rules are rules Sir Marcus...I can not use my magic on someone that is not accepted by Duke Howard.¡±


    ¡°But she is Leticia¡¯s child! Aren¡¯t you her best friend?¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    My father exchanged words with a blue-haired lady. The lady wore white exquisite clothes, which was to some extent even more luxurious than my Father¡¯s attire. Gold rimmed her dress and cape, and a silver cross hung at her neck.


    Her green eyes lightly squinted in displeasure. She glanced at my figure laying limp in my Father¡¯s hold. Her eyes looked straight at me, as if looking for something within the body of a toddler.


    She then heaved a large sigh.


    ¡°Sir Marcus, please...make sure the door is locked.¡±


    ¡°..!! I¡¯m truly grateful, Clara!¡±


    My Father¡¯s hand ghosted over the door knob. This time, there was no chant, but I knew that some form of magic was cast. Perhaps, this was what ¡°Miss Clara¡± meant when she said ¡°lock the door¡±.


    ¡°Miss Clara¡± looked at me with a much softer expression than previous. This person...was probably a pushover. She seemed cold at first hand, but towards those who khew her, she would probably accept all of their demands.


    This was Leticia, my Mother, ¡®s best friend.


    Father laid me down on a bed that was very soft. It was much more comfortable than the cradle that I was subjected to every night.


    Miss Clara came over next to the bed, her left hand wrapped in a white gloves with some picturesque inscriptions on it. It was a red circle with curves and small stars within it, similar to gothic patterns. Her thin gloved fingers hovered over my back. I could not twist my neck to see her, so I could only guessed what she was doing while staring motionlessly at my Father¡¯s legs. Despite being a parent, he looked just like a robust young man, a perfect bait for single ladies when my Mother was not around.


    Just the type of man that I despised...but I knew my Father was not that kind of man. He buried himself with paperwork, even though he was much better at swordsmanship, magic, or anything that involved moving around. He took less than a glance at the women that came over to visit him, even if they brought with them his sustenance. Most likely, he was more occupied over the neverending pile of documents and worried about crushing me in his arms.


    He was a true gentleman.


    I guess the saying that the daughter grows up to marry someone like her father makes sense, but I would make sure that my future husband does not have light brown hair like my Father. Better yet, I should tell Father to quickly go dye his hair before I yanked it out or shaved it clean when he was not looking.


    ..Oh dear, that slipped out of nowhere. Why did I have such a rebellious thought?


    Suddenly, I felt a warm feeling in my back. Initially, I thought Miss Clara was heating my back up with magic or something...then I realized that it was not the skin on my back that was heating up. It was...my back bone.


    The feeling was a bit similar to having your bones submerged and cooked in a hotpot. I could swear that I hear the sizzling sound at the back of my mind.


    Mentally goosebump-ed, I tried to twist my neck to see what was going on, but I could not perform such a feat without moving my back that was burning up. The heat was not unbearable (yet), but I could not sit still and let my back bones be stewed into baby chowder!


    As if responding to my fear, the heat seemed to spread across the entirety of my toddler body. Then moments later, it subsided. I heaved a mental sigh of relief. I could still move my back, so it had not been cooked by the heat yet.


    My Father was awfully compliant throughout this series of child abuse. Where was his ¡°Light Shield¡± that protected me from the lightning just now?


    ...Well, no more joking around.


    Judging from his serious demeanor and expectant looks, I could guess that the heating up was actually the ¡°healing¡± that he mentioned just now. I¡¯ve read about magical healing from some of the comics in my previous life, but I¡¯d imagined it to be something more gentle and holy, not life-threatening like cooking a person alive.


    Maybe, this toddler¡¯s body was just way too fragile, even for healing.


    My guess must be correct, because after the heat disappeared, my back pain also went away. I could move my back as if I had not fallen down a height of one meter just minutes ago.


    That was really magical.


    Today...had been a long day. Learning about magic...but my toddler¡¯s body could not even withstand the sacred force of healing, let alone a simple wind blade from the white child. I might as well wait until I had become more sturdy to experiment with this new field of science called ¡°Magic¡±.


    Now...let¡¯s fall asleep in Father¡¯s arms.


    ...


    ¡°...She endured the healing and did not cry...what a resilient child.¡±


    ¡°She is exactly like Leticia...quiet but very strong-willed.¡±


    ¡°You are just too doting on her, Sir Marcus. However, I ask that you keep this dealing between just the two of us.¡±


    ¡°Of course, Miss Clara. I¡¯m truly grateful for your help. Please call upon me if you need my assistance in the future.¡±


    ¡°...I do not think that will ever be necessary, but I will keep that in mind. And one more thing, Sir Marcus...¡±


    ¡°...Miss Clara?¡±


    ¡°That child...Charlotte...she may be in possession of holy power.¡±

 Magic experiment and The green-eyed child

    Isolated...


    After the magical incident, I was suddenly reverted back to my isolation lifestyle before spending time at the Second Reading Room with my Father. I was just left alone next to the window from dawn to sunset again, like those days with my Father were just a midsummer¡¯s night dream.


    How I missed the bed in Miss Clara¡¯s room...


    I knew Father was worried that I may get into another incident with magic again, but why must I stop coming to the Second Reading Room! I missed sleeping in the arms of Father; it was certainly not as comfortable as the cradle, but at least I could look over the word-filled documents or yank on his brown hair to pass the time. Now, I only had the clouds to look at and my own fingers and toes to wriggle.


    ...All toddlers in this world must be bored out of their mind.


    Days, or even weeks passed by without me moving a muscle besides the irises of my eyes.


    One day, I had enough of it.


    I was going to wait until my bones become a little harder to practice with ¡°Magic¡±, but my own sanity may not take that long to escape from this boredom.


    There was no one in the room, as usual.


    I raised my two little small hands, then realized that there was no point. I closed my eyes, and tried to remember the feeling when that ¡°something¡± invisible in the air was moving when the white child cast his spell.


    Suddenly, it went dark outside. I opened my eyes. My surrounding was covered by a dark shroud that seemed to extend to every corner that my eyes could reach. But it was not nighttime ¨C it was still sunny outside, I could tell, but it was dark where I could see.


    In contract, I could see beautiful clouds of different colours floating in the space where the door, the cradle, the spider web at the edge of the room stood. They were like the space clouds that I read about in those astrology books back in my previous life.


    I want to try touching them...


    As I was thinking this, I realized that I could pull them towards me, half using my will and half by arm motion. One particular blue cloud seemed to be the most responsive, and it flowed towards me as if there was no resistance at all. It flew straight though the wooden handle of the cradle.


    When it reached my hand, I tried to touch it...It was similar to floating water, but there was little to no resistance to my hand. I could divide it into smaller clouds or press multiple clouds into one big bundle. It was like playing clay...with no resistance.


    Was this...magic? Or some kind of hallucination? Or was I dreaming? A lucid dream?


    As I was pondering the impossibility of this situation, I spin the bundle of blue clouds around my index finger.


    It¡¯s getting hotter...it¡¯d be nice if this blue clouds turn into a water vortex instead.


    As I was picturing this in my mind, reminiscing over the times i went to water parks back in my previous life, suddenly I felt resistance in the blue clouds that were gathering around my finger.


    I blinked, and the room suddenly returned to its original brightness, with the colourful clouds gone from sight. I squinted, slowly getting used to the brightness again. Then I realized something out of place.


    A huge water vortex was revolving inches away from my toddler body.


    I said huge, but it was a far cry from those legendary typhoons that destroyed buildings. It was as tall as my Father, but twice as large as his width. The water looked impossibly blue and gentle...but seconds later, they were revolving so strongly that its wind actually pushed my body towards the edge of the cradle.


    Could...could this be the start of a water disaster?


    I panicked for a bit. My Father would definitely not be pleased if a part of the building got blown off because of this. It was how strong the water vortex looked to me.


    It, it was just a harmless-looking blue cloud...


    I tried to close my eyes and feel the invisible flow again, but the vortex blowing so close to my feet kept distracting me and I could not seem to get back to that world of darkness again.


    The cradle was already half broken. The door was still firm in its place, but I had a feeling that it was going to be blown off its hinges if this kept up.


    Magic was so dangerous!


    Suddenly, there was something, someone fiddling with the door knob.


    BANG!


    The door got blown off. I was so scared that I could not look in that direction for a moment. What if, what if all that¡¯s left was a headless corpse at the entrance? The door really was blown away with huge impact.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    Now Father was sure to come and get me. At least this thought alone made me feel better. Now he would be too worried to leave me alone to my own devices.


    I slowly peeked at the entrance. At first I could not see anybody. It seemed like no one was injured...or at least, no injured persons that I had spotted. Maybe someone was being squashed underneath that blown away door...


    Then, I saw a head of brown.


    Not, not my Father. It was too short to be him (unless that was his head lying on the floor...no!). I pushed aside my irrational annoyance at brown heads and tried to glimpse at the face underneath. It really looked similar to my Father¡¯s hair, but was more choppy and less neatly groomed compared to my Father¡¯s. Although if my Father stopped doing and paperwork and went out practicing his swordsmanship everyday, his hair would look like that in no time at all.


    Two round green eyes were wide open underneath the head of brown hair. It seemed like he escaped the fate of being headless thanks to his short stature. The door was blown right over his head.


    He was staring impossibly still at the water vortex inside my cradle. I could see his facing morphing into that of horror. Soon enough, his cries would be even louder than the destruction by the vortex, and people could come rushing over and ¡°rescue¡± me from this water disaster.


    I really, really did not mean to create it...


    Suddenly, a piece of wood from the cradle flew towards the green-eyed child due to the wind from the vortex.


    Time flew impossibly slow. But I did not care about that at all. A child, an innocent child was going to get hurt because of my thoughtless experiment with magic. My concentration level suddenly shot up, and my world was shrouded in the dark cloud again.


    I could see clearly. The colourful clouds that were floating harmlessly before were now revolving into a mess around the water vortex. Clouds were being continuously sucked from elsewhere into the rainbow black hole.


    I had a hunch. The vortex must be exerting so much power because of the clouds converging. Hence, if the clouds dispersed, or stopped being sucked into the vortex, it would naturally extinguish and stop causing irreversible damage to the building.


    I tried to pull all the clouds nearby towards my hand. The force pulling on them by the vortex was strong, but my will was even stronger. Soon, all the clouds were gathering around my hand...like a second vortex.


    Hiiiii...


    Am, am I not creating a second disaster here?


    The water vortex was still going strong...it evidently still had a lot of spare power. However, the dense clouds gathering around me were moving about dangerously. I had a feeling that, whatever I imagined now, just like with the water vortex just now, will materialize out of thin air due to all of this clouds converging. And the scale of power was unimaginable.


    I needed something, something that generated a lot of power yet was not damaging to surrounding any more than the destruction by the water vortex.


    I looked at my feet. I was less than a meter away from the dangerously swirling vortex. The cradle was swinging unstably left to right. Maybe...it was time for me to change location, albeit forcefully.


    I imagined a pair of wings that was attached to my back. There was a brilliant light, and after I blinked a few times, my surrounding became bright again. This time, however, the whole room, even the water vortex, was illuminated by the light coming from my back.


    Why...was it so bright...


    I imagined them moving upwards. Immediately I felt a force at my back pulling my toddler self upwards.


    I hovered dangerously above the ground for a few seconds, but then managed to stabilize myself splendidly. The wind from the vortex was making flight control a bit difficult and risky, but nowhere was as dangerous as being in this cradle right now, point blank from the cause of all this destruction.


    Magic was dangerous to handle, but it really could make miracles.


    I flew over the broken handle of the cradle. The floor looked quite far from where I was, but it was probably less than one meter in height. However, I did not entertain the thought of falling and being healed/bone-cooked again by Miss Clara.


    I kept my concentration. The image of the wings was clear in my head. I dropped my altitude and touched the ground just a small distance from the green-eyed child, who was staring in wide open eyes at my figure landing on the ground.


    I forgot to mention, but the piece of wood just now missed the child. He was not injured in any ways, just frozen from fear. But just the threat of him being injured was enough to push me to action.


    Well, no longer. I could be consider to be in the safe zone from now. It was time to be a helpless toddler again. Of course, I had absolutely no idea what or who caused that water vortex just now.


    I crawled slowly towards the green-eyed child. The child, he had the nerve to back off a bit. I had thought that my figure with glowing wings flying through the air was an awe-inspiring one, but it turned out I was wrong. Maybe flying toddlers were a little bit hard to swallow, even for a young and naive child.


    I had come this far, only for him to back away. What was the point then? I felt like crying helplessly a bit, so that he would have no way but to come and console me.


    However, this was only a child...He might even be inspired by me and cry even louder...well, either way, everyone would think that he was the one who ¡°rescued¡± me anyways. No way that a child, no a toddler, could possibly jump over the tall handle of the cradle and run over to the door by herself. The other possibility was me being pushed out of the cradle after it had been broken by the water vortex, but then my lack of bodily injuries would not support that theory. My plan was air-tight!


    Concentrating and crawling were tiring. Since he was scared of me anyways, I might as well lie down and rest. The floor was a bit cold from the wind of the water vortex, but everything was better than having to crawl on four now.


    I closed my eyes. The vortex was still hard at work, swirling with all its might, but I could hear its power dwindling with time. Hurried footsteps echoed along the hall way ¨C people must have heard the door explosion and were rushing over. Father must be one of them.


    Aaaah...I had finally managed to do some ¡°magic¡± of my own, only to create a disaster instead...


    Suddenly, I felt small hands probing at my back. I blinked open my eyes. The green eyes of the child were really round and green up close. He was looking at my back with an expression of curiosity and wonder.


    ...He must be searching for my ¡°wings¡±.


    Though it felt nice to be touched by a kid, I could not help but feel like this motion might look a bit questionable from outside, especially for people who had not seen my awe-inspiring winged figure. So I tried to avoid his probing hand, and rolled over to keep some distance. Who knew, or should I say expectedly, he followed suit, and even rolled me flat on my stomach so my entire back side was facing him.


    He, he was just a curious child, there''s no otherhidden motives!

 Fathers resolve and Her true face

    I figured, the best way to evade all responsibility with regards to the water disaster, as a toddler, was to sleep through it all.


    Thankfully, the green-eyed child was separated from me before my toddler-size patience exploded on him. He was lucky my hands were too weak to yank out of all of his disgusting brown hair.


    I could certainly try to use a flamethrower and shave it clean off him; however, there was a possibility of that becoming a second disaster in one day, and this time it would be hard for me to escape blame, so I held back.


    If I got to see him alone next time, it would be the death of that brown hair.


    It was a certain stroke of luck that my Father''s hair was also brown, but it was a lighter shade, closer to blonde, kind of brown. I did not feel much killing intent towards my Father''s hair, just annoyance now and then.


    I was lying comfortably in the arms of my caretaker lady, a small distance away from my Father, who was spiritedly talking with the butler.


    The green-eyed child was standing on the other side of Father, next to a man with the same sort of look as Father''s. However, Father''s eyes were stark red like the colour of blood, while his eyes were a gentle and mild green. It was a forest green colour, but not completely different from the green-eyes child''s eyes, which were a bright green that shone like emerald.


    It was a misfortune that his hair was also of the same shade of brown as that of the green-eyed child. I had the urge to send quick dye bottles to their house everyday just to ensure that brown colour was forever erased from my life.


    Well, no more poking around. I had better not look over their direction too often. The green-eyed child, at every moment that he was not talking to his parent, he would immediately look over in my direction. I could not tell exactly what that look of his meant, but I did not want to test it out.


    I closed my eyes again. Hopefully I could spend my night in the Second Reading Room from now on. Making that water vortex had been singularly useful in this one aspect: for now I did not have to sleep in that boring small room anymore.


    ...


    "Sir Marcus, the only remaining possibility was that your daughter had been the one responsible for this incident."


    "What kind of cr...impossible things are you saying, Hector! Charlotte is only a few months over one year old; she could not even speak properly, let alone perform chantless magic!?"


    "Brother, please calm down, there must be an explanation..."


    "Roland, I am very grateful for Keith. If he had not been there to take Charlotte out of there...Leticia...Leticia''s child could have died in there!"


    "Sir Marcus! Please do not utter Miss Leticia''s name so easily! Duke Howard had yet to accept Miss Charlotte as his legitimate granddaughter yet!"


    "He had no right! Going as far as to forbid treatment on the child of his daughter...if he still insisted on rejecting her existence, then I might as well have been wasting my time. If Leticia no longer meant anything to him, I might as well take it away from him for good!"


    "Brother!"


    "Sir Marcus!"


    ...


    It was a long time until I opened my eyes. I had a strange feeling, that a lot had happened when I was (busy) asleep.


    The first thing that struck me was that, I was sleeping on a remarkably comfortable bed, with a super luxurious blanket! I had been so used to paper-thin blankets that it had moved me considerably upon the sight of a proper blanket that was fluffy and warm.


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    I looked around, and recognized the interior of Miss Clara''s room. I could guess the reason why I was brought here post-disaster, but I did not know why I was given the privilege to sleep here leisurely instead of being brought back to my new sleeping location.


    I had, a bad feeling about it. But the softness of the blanket was all that mattered to me then.


    While indulging in the comfort of my bed, I nearly squeaked out loud at the sight of sharp green eyes gazing at me at the corner of peripheral vision.


    Those green eyes, were vaguely familiar...


    It was Miss Clara, in her normal attire, sitting at her tea table, looking at me from afar with a complicated look on her face. She was deep in thought about something, and it concerned me in some way, but I really could not guess what it was. I only knew that it was an issue that she was having trouble deliberating.


    She looked at me, then looked away, then looked at me again, then heaved a heavy sigh.


    What did I do? I was completely injury-less this time, so she definitely did not need to use her magic on me. The disaster also never reached her room, so what exactly was causing her to be in such a dilemma?


    And...where was Father?


    As if sensing my unease, Miss Clara made her way over. She regarded me silently for a while, then began speaking. I could tell she had resigned to whatever was causing her problem, but her voice was firm.


    "Charlotte, you are my apprentice from now on."


    ???


    "Due to some circumstances, I need to assume guardianship over you instead of that irresponsible grandfather and father of yours..."


    Father, he had...abandoned me?


    "Though I did wish for a disciple with holy power as strong as yours, I''d never imagined...it would be Leticia''s child. If she was here, she would have never let you become a holy maiden. To think I have to break my promise to her in such a way..."


    I have, holy power? The power to burn people alive? How exciting.


    Of course, I knew the truth. So my second life was going to be devoted to helping people...again. I could not seem to get out of this role of assisting people...


    And I had wished that I could go to the front lines and decimate nations...I guess that''s impossible now.


    However, for a vengeful spirit to have strong holy power...


    Was this a ploy by God of J or whoever up there to contain me within the no-fighting zone so I could, perhaps, dispel my grudge?


    .. .. .


    Did they not know the saying, the safest place is also the most dangerous place?


    . .. ..


    Well, it''s not like I was going to massacre people indiscriminately when I was supposed to be healing them. I would do my job properly.


    ..unless, the patient had brown hair and/or brown eyes.


    This irrationality of mine, was quite troublesome indeed. Maybe I should look into why I had developed this strange quirk against brown-haired and brown-eyed dudes. Perhaps, some forgotten memories in my previous life...


    I could not recall a thing. It was just at the back of my mind, but I had a feeling that something bad would happen if I pursue this any further.


    Maybe it would be wiser to gain some defensive power first. I was really helpless against anything and everything in this weak toddler body. I could not even hold a scissors properly to cut off the hair of all brown-haired guys in this world.


    That would be one of my aspirations for now.


    "Charlotte, what are you thinking of with such a weird smile...no, what am I thinking, talking to a child. I must be sick in my head to believe what Julian told me was true. There is no way a little toddler that hasn''t learnt how to speak can understand my words..."


    Oh no, please continue talking. I need to know why I had been dumped here with this weird-haired woman.


    "You seem normal again...did you actually respond to my words? Maybe it is the abundance of holy power in you that has allowed you wisdom beyond your age."


    ..I was grateful enough that those holy power had not cooked my brain raw, let alone making me smarter.


    "Nevertheless, I need to get this out to someone, even if you can''t really respond to me. Sir Marcus, your dear Father, had asked me to take you as my apprentice, to ensure a safe position for you both within nobility and this kingdom."


    So it was done out of love...but why?


    "A holy maiden is both a coveted existence...and a shunned position. A normal magician cannot become one unless he is significantly blessed by the Gods...and even that, not many would choose to be one. Although you get to always stay in the safe zone...as you would expect, it is not a very exciting job choice for younger magicians after all. And unfortunately, you can only be a holy maiden under the age of 20...which is the most optimal age to develop elemental magic."


    Of course, healing people was not very fun after all. On the other hand, burning people to a crisp on the battlefield was much more appealing.


    ...However, I knew it was my natural calling. Back in my previous life, people had always said I had a nice smile, a gentle, gullible smile...that made it easy for people to take advantage of me. I was best at supporting other people instead of taking matters into my own hand.


    Hm, there''s no escaping one''s fate after all. However, I hope I could still learn the art of elemental magic, for, well, self-defense.


    It would be wonderfully convenient if I could learn how to forcefully change people''s hair colour as well. I had better ask Miss Clara, no, Master, as soon as I was able to talk. I needed to change that hair colour of Father''s and the green-eyed child with haste!


    "Well, but for your case, at least you would be safe and grow up well-protected by the Temple. With your potential, you could even aim to become one of the priests...well, it depends heavily on your spiritual connection, so maybe I should teach you how to control your spiritual consciousness first?"


    ... ... What?


    "No wait, maybe it would be better to expand your soul force first...we can''t have you exhausting your magic power halfway after all. Oh, I have always wanted a small child with strong potent power to experience with increasing a human''s magic capacity...It truly is a blessing from the Gods...!"


    I felt like something was wrong with that whole paragraph. I thought, she was torn with the decision whether to accept me or not? What was with this sudden increase in motivation?


    And why did I have a very bad feeling about the next few years of my life...?


    I had once deemed her as a pushover that just seemed cold outside...could I have been wrong about her true nature all along?


    "Oh dear Leticia...I had been struck with the deepest pain when you had left us for our Gods. But I know you would not abandon your dear friend that still had a long way to go until she can meet you in heaven. You had brought Charlotte, no, this dearest angel of a disciple to me. Worry not, Leticia, for I would care for her with the greatest of my love, just as how much I had treasured you before that man Marcus came and took you away."


    Wait, did I just hear something very scandalous right now? M-mother in heaven, could it be--


    "Charlotte, let us get along well from now...you really do look like you understand every single word I said. Maybe it is better to set up a telepathic connection between us so we master and disciple can overcome the limits of age and start your training immediately!"


    No no no no no! I had wanted to experiment with magic, not be experimented on by a lunatic! Father, come back!!!

 Relapse and Behind closed doors

    Months, or even years passed.


    Well, I would like to say so, and pass it all over my head as some childhood memories, but I really couldn¡¯t. It had been...eventful to say the least, and I had finally understood why Miss Clara had blissfully remained single until now.


    The first few days of our acquaintanceship, she gave me various potions of colours to varying degrees of nauseousness, and asked me to promptly consume them all. She had this look on her that said if I had not complied, they would still end up my stomach one way or another. So I obediently gulped them down one by one, ignoring the queer taste of each and every one of them. I was lucky the taste buds of a toddler were not very well-developed, and feelings of wanting to vomit were defeated by the desire to be wrapped around clean and soft blankets at night.


    I was stuck in auditory and visual hallucination for the next few days or so. It could be considered the worst I had faced since having this second life, when I repeatedly encountered strange and haunting dreams of hushed voices and moans as I stood in an endlessly long and dark hallway. I saw brown hairs and brown eyes everywhere around me, and I had nearly bitten onto the hand of Miss Clara when I saw her flowing brown hair and light brown eyes.


    The green-eyed child had taken to avoid from me ever since. His brown hair had been the most infuriating of all. He was initially bent on his mission to explore my non-existent wings, but after visiting me several times during my period of hallucination, he had wisely chosen to run away from me at first sight.


    Seeing someone immediately retreating from sight the moment they spotted me put me off more than I thought, so I resolutely shut myself in Miss Clara¡¯s office, hoping for the illusions to go away soon.


    I was lying on the bed, trying to meditate on my back, when a little angel came inside the room. It was the white child. I did not recognize him at first sight due to the heap of ash-brown hair I saw initially. But his eyes were still the bright amber they were, so I stopped yanking on his hair the moment I saw them.


    The white child was a very resilient kid. He endured my yanking, and even sat down next to the bed for a while to pat my head while I was half pinching his arm to stop myself from yanking at that brown hair.


    I wanted to pat his head also, but I was afraid that it would turn into me grabbing a bunch of the brown-looking hair viciously instead, so I held back. I closed my eyes to stop looking at the brown hair, and tried to think of a way to pat him safely.


    Then, I fell asleep. While being patted by a kid.


    I had not known how sleepy I was. The dream of the hallway was particularly echoing in my mind, so much so that I even quivered at the sight of hallways, and I had unconsciously held myself from deep sleep.


    It was the first dreamless sleep I¡¯d had since a long time.


    When I awoke, the white child was no longer there. I was relieved that no one was around to see my obviously very satisfied expression, which looked very much like a spoiled child.


    I was also struck with a sudden feeling of loss. Had it not been days, no, weeks since the last time I saw Father? Why had he not visited me ever since? Why had he not been the one to protect me from this abuse from my supposed ¡°Master¡±?


    I wanted to cry a bit. My first sincere tears ever since my second life in this world.


    In truth, I knew. I mentioned Father here and there in front of Miss Clara, but she either had nothing to say or only vaguely mentioned some excuses. While having those long and dark dreams, the first thing I thought of was my Father¡¯s protective arms. In one of my dreams, I could vaguely make out his silhouette, his choppy flaxen hair, his fiery red eyes and stubborn black bags underneath that confident smile of his as he tackled the unending pile of paperwork. When I tried to grasp for that safe haven in those strong arms again, there was nothing but a ray of moonlight in a dark room, with only me and the heavily asleep Miss Clara.


    He had left to protect me, but I was alone again.


    After that afternoon with the white child, the dreams stopped coming.


    ...


    ¡°If I may be so rude to ask...aren¡¯t you going to visit Miss Charlotte any time soon, Sir Marcus? It had been one week since she left.¡±


    Dana, the previous caretaker of Charlotte, was asking in a half nervous, half concerned voice. Concerned, because the man in front of her, the one touted as the ¡°Red-eyed Beast of Isla¡±, was now tumbling over himself doing miscellaneous paperwork for the Howard household.


    It was outrageous enough that an ex-Knight Commander had to do this kind of job, but Sir Marcus had taken it up without a second thought, so as to be able to secure a noble protection for Miss Charlotte. It was all he could do to appeal to Duke Howard, who needed a male successor and not a dubious child from his dead daughter.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    As a Royal Knight, Sir Marcus had sworn under oath to never take up any Governing Title, meaning he could never be recognized as a Baron or a Duke or anything similar. Everyone and anyone knew that he and Miss Leticia were deeply in love, and Miss Charlotte had both the blood of the Howard and Blythe nobility flowing in her. However, Miss Leticia was dead, and as long as Duke Howard continued to reject Miss Charlotte as his granddaughter, Miss Charlotte was not part of nobility.


    Sir Marcus would never let his and Miss Leticia¡¯s child suffered the life of a commoner.


    So he worked day and night...but even the servants could see that Duke Howard gave only the barest of care for Miss Charlotte. Her sleeping quarters was just a empty room previously used by the maids, isolated from the main residence. Dana was supposed to double up as her personal caretaker and also Sir Marcus¡¯ maid. And worse of all, she was not allowed to receive magical treatment from the family¡¯s contract doctor, Miss Clara Efferine.


    Last week, we all thought that it wasthe last straw and Sir Marcus would just bring Miss Charlotte with him to leave the Howard residence. However, he gave his child to Miss Efferine, who was rumoured to have never taken up a single apprentice before, and continued to do the paperwork. And for a doting father like him, he had not come to see Miss Charlotte even once during this week even though Miss Efferine¡¯s office was just a few doors away.


    Sir Marcus seemed like he had not heard her question. She did not intend to push it further, personally, but she had been requested by Baron Blythe to ask Sir Marcus to visit Miss Charlotte. Recently, under the effects of some of Miss Efferine¡¯s ¡°experiments¡±, Miss Charlotte seemed to be in a mental state of confusion, so much so that the normally well-behaved child had yanked violently on the hair of Baron Blythe¡¯s son the other day.


    All the maids reported to me that she had beenan unworldly obedient child, before her first ¡°lesson¡± with Miss Efferine. It made one wonder what kind of lesson it was to teach to a toddler that had yet to walk. However, after that fateful afternoon, she started avoiding eye-contact with all the servants, or all people alike. If she was forced to look at them, she would have this wild and bottomless look in her jet black eyes that were unsuitable for a child. After that, the servant would be lucky to escape with only his or her hair being yanked at painfully.


    Some even had their eyes directly poked at. The accuracy at which she struck and the viciousness at which she performed her attack(s) was so chillingly terrifying that all the servants agreed to leave her alone during the day and only tended to her during the night. It was a stroke of luck that she was a deep sleeper.


    The same child was reported to cry or sob uncontrollably when going across hallways. All the servants, including me, concluded that it was just a form of harassment to whoever was holding her at the time. She so rarely cried that when it happened, her voice echoed throughout the isolated building and disrupted all activities, with the servant holding her feeling particularly guilt-stricken under the exasperated looks of other servants.


    Strangely, Sir Marcus would still continue his work with only a mild disturbance to his pace.


    The silence went on in the Second Reading Room. The tea Dana brought him in the previous break laid cold on the table.


    She was having trouble breaking the silence when suddenly the door was opened. A grey head emerged, and Mr Julian walked in.


    Mr Julian Ballester, the gifted child of Viscount Ballester, and also the treasured heir of Duke Howard. It was a common sight to see him in this section of the Howard residence, even though he was not supposed to. The hatred Duke Howard had towards Sir Marcus was in plain sight even for servants to see, let alone Duke Howard¡¯s most loved grandson. If Mr Julian had in him any will to appeal to the favour of Duke Howard, the Second Reading Room, where Sir Marcus stayed to work, would be the last place to spend his day in.


    Yet, Mr Julian was special. Although he was only five years of age, he could speak fluently, and could do elemental magic to some significant extent. He was an all-rounder in his studies and had a kind temperament, despite being overly formal and serious at times. So when he said that he wanted to learn swordsmanship and chantless magic from Sir Marcus, who used to be the strongest magic swordsman in the kingdom, even Duke Howard would turn a blind eye.


    He was always much focused in his studies and training, and would alwaystalk about those two things even when it was only him and Sir Marcus, who, in a sense, was his uncle-in-law. Thus it was particularly surprising for Dana when she heard the conversation between Sir Marcus and Mr Julian that afternoon:


    ¡°Good afternoon Uncle Marcus.¡±


    ¡°Julian...it might not be appropriate for you to call me ¡°Uncle¡± freely from now on. As I am only your magic tutor, you should address me as Mr Marcus.¡±


    ¡°...I am aware of the reason for such change, and I will adjust myself accordingly. However, Un...Mr Marcus, may I ask of you a favour?¡±


    ¡°It depends on what it is. Do tell, Mr Julian.¡±


    ¡°...I was wondering if you could visit Miss Efferine¡¯s office. Her new apprentice is still a young child and so I believe your experience with raising a child will be helpful to Miss Efferine in her attempt to bring up the youngapprentice.¡±


    ¡°...Julian.¡±


    ¡°Mr Marcus?¡±


    ¡°... ... It is not in my place as a mere tutor to trifle with the family¡¯s doctor in her apprenticeship. I also believe in Miss Efferine¡¯s reputation as a magician and holy maiden. The young apprentice will be safe under her protection.¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    ¡°Lineage is not everything. Only with true abilities can one prevail in life. Even if the apprentice had dubious background, if she is able to grow strong under the tutelage of Miss Efferine, then...there is no need for me to interfere.¡±


    ¡°...I see.. .. .¡±


    ¡°...Mr Julian, it is no longer early. We will have our magic lesson tomorrow morning instead. Do excuse me as I have to continue with my work.¡±


    ¡°.. .. I understand. Please excuse me.¡±


    Mr Julian silently walked out of the Second Reading room. The door was not fully closed. I could almost see Sir Marcus looking in the direction that Mr Julian left, with a deeply melancholic and regretful expression. He gripped his fist tightly. Then, a moment later, his eyes were calm again, with a shade of red so dark, it could be mistaken for a black colour. It reminded me of Miss Leticia¡¯s eyes when she pushed Duke Howard ¨C her father ¨C away and went towards Sir Marcus, years ago.


    Sir Marcus went back to work, as if nothing had happened.

 A strange day and A strange ritual

    Today began a little stranger than usual.


    ¡°It is strange indeed. I do remember giving you several high grade soul cleansing potions. And yet, my instinct as a magic researcher is telling me that not a single thing has changed.¡±


    Miss Clara scrutinized me with much puzzlement and interest. I could see an array of colourful potions behind her. I hastily averted my eyes away.


    After the dreams went away, people¡¯s hair and eye colour also returned to normal. Father did not come, but I had the white child and once in a while, the green-eyed kid also. Children had always been braver than adults.


    When I was no longer distracted by people¡¯s faces, I realized that Miss Clara had been following and observing me all along. She must have noted several of my rather aggressive actions into one of her thick parchment scrolls. What bewildered me was that such responses were expected from consuming those potions, which explained why she never gave me an antidote to all of those hallucinations and dreams I had been having.


    What on Earth was she feeding a child of less than two years old?


    She inched her face closer to mine, and her leafy green eyes stared into mine. She was still speaking out loud to herself. I could be considered to be having a dialogue with her, just without me being able to respond in words. However, it must be quite embarrassing for an adult to be seen monologuing in front of an infant. Was that the reason why the door was always, without fail, locked? Or was it for a different reason..


    ..If something happened, I would not be able to scream anyway.


    ¡°Your eyes are so pitch black, they do not seem like they belong to an infant. You are responding to my gaze with such calmness that it is eerie. I suspected that you may be possessed by a lingering spirit, but how strong must that spirit be to survive all of those holy-powered soul cleansing potions? Or could it be a divine sign? But the Child of the God of Darkness has already been found. And there¡¯s no divine crest on your body either.¡±


    Why did she immediately link me to being a child of the God of Darkness, out of all the Gods? Was this discrimination for having black eyes?


    Miss Clara talked to herself a lot. She must have taken comfort in the fact that I could not give a sarcastic response to her rambling (yet), so she very liberally shared with me her frustration and complaints at basically everything that was not related to magic.


    I learnt that she was once the strongest Cleric grade holy maiden. Just to clarify, the hierachy in the Temple was Pope, Arch Priests, Priests, Clerics, Apprentices, from strongest to weakest. The strongest Cleric grade might not sound like much, but consider that out of around 500 temple fighters, 300 were Apprentices and 150 were Clerics. Being the top of Clerics meant...Miss Clara was at least in the top 50 in terms of fire power in the whole of the Temple army.


    It made me wonder how they measured the relative fighting power of ¡°clerics¡± and ¡°priests¡± when they should be using their holy power to heal instead of kill. (Unless my theory before was not wrong and they could actually sear people to death using magical healing)


    From what I¡¯ve heard, it seemed Apprentices, especially the more advanced ones, were supposed to go hunt evil spirits or demons as part of their daily task. And Clerics, as opposed to their names, were the one leading the hunt on some of the more challenging demons that Apprentices could not finish off themselves.


    Seemed like being in the Temple was pretty dangerous business. There was a price from being fed and protected by the Temple¡¯s enormous funds and firepower after all. It really was not as if the Temple was this huge multiregional corporation that was making the lowest group in the hierachy work like slaves.


    This feeling of being the underdog...was pretty nostalgic.


    ¡°Charlotte? What are you thinking of on your own again? Since you¡¯re not that interested, we¡¯ll just get to it right the way. After all, you¡¯ll get to understand it first hand.¡±


    Wait, what? We¡¯re doing something today?


    In the wake of my horror, I was picked up by Miss Clara. We went over to a secluded space in her room, where the sun light from outside was streaking in. That was, until Miss Clara pulled the curtains in one clean stroke and the place was shrouded in semi-darkness.


    This area of the room was not covered in the rug like other parts, and the stone floor was left bare. There was a strange scarcity of furniture around, and the stone floor looked well-swept and...shiny smooth like a black board. I could see a white chalk circle with very detailed curvy patterns inscribed in it on the stone floor. Around the circle, as I could make out in the darkness, were crystals of varying colours like rainbow.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    As I was marvelling over the spectacle, I missed the chance to resist as Miss Clara put me down at the centre of the circle. I could crawl my way out, but I had a feeling something similar to the two times I had experienced magic would happen again if I did that.


    ...Judging from my luck with magic so far, I think something would still happen regardless of my feeble attempt to escape. So I should at least keep everything stable for now so I could safely pinpoint what went wrong later.


    And I had Miss Clara around. Everything should not be so bad this time.


    Miss Clara told me not to move, and simply placed a strange marble into my hand. She looked at me with a strangely excited look, before strangely calming down again. She patted my head once, looking strangely gentle as she did so.


    I was slightly panicked over the change in her attitude. Over the past few weeks of our apprenticeship, it was the first time she showed such an expression. I was contemplating whether it was a rare kindness in view of what was going to happen to me.


    The marble in my hand shone in a sheer white colour, like pasteurized milk.


    Miss Clara went over her desk, and picked up two bottles, one green and one orange. She gulped them down and then put on a pair of black gloves. She walked over to me again, her eyes one shade more vivid than usual.


    She connected her left and right palm at the fingertips and held them in front of her eyes. She began chanting in a low voice:


    ¡°God of Light, heed my call. Forgive this sinner as she humbly ask for your light and your guidance in infusing...power...limit...protection... .. .. Kerishiyata!¡±


    I could not hear parts of her holy-sounding chant. I could feel its effects though. That invisible thing which used to be peacefully flowing around her body was now coiling around with her as the centre, but it was not generating magic. It was responding to her body, which now shone with a white sheen.


    Then a single ray of light parted from the space between her black gloved hands.


    It struck the outer perimeter of the chalk circle. The lifeless chalk line suddenly lit up like lanterns, and the surrounding crystals lit up one by one like a firework show. The invisible thing was now coiling aggressively around the circle, but like a typhoon, it was eerily still inside the circle. The crystals made a boundary that seemed to block out the raging current outside.


    Miss Clara walked to the boundary of the circle, right in the midst of the typhoon. She neither flinched nor resisted. It was as if the current was not there, not physically perceived by her at all.


    I learnt later that this current, this invisible thing, was called the external magic flow.


    Inside the chalk circle, there were three smaller circles. They glowed for a moment, and suddenly blinding rays of light were emerging from them. And their destination, was the white marble in my hand. It lit up and shone in response to the light, like a miniature sun. I wanted to close my eyes against such blinding light to avoid having to wear glasses again. Then I realized I could still see the excitedly calm figure of Miss Clara and her room perfectly clear. It must not be a physical light here.


    ¡°YELP!¡±


    Something searing flowed into my hands that were holding the small marble. The surface of the marble was cool like usual, but I could feel a torrent of heat flowing up my arms. The sudden intrusion had compelled me to utter such baby-like words that I was struck to silence by my own embarrassment.


    The heat was intense to the point of numbness, but I could not let go of the marble, the source of the agony. Not only did the marble feel cool to the touch as some sort of balancing force to the searing pain in my arms, but I had a feeling, when I saw Miss Clara¡¯s fixed eyes upon my hands, that I was to never let go of the little marble until this whole ordeal was over.


    Magic, could be so painful.


    The heat spread to my chest, my legs, my head. It was hot and numb everywhere on my little body, but it was warm at my chest. Even if every part of my body was numb like a boiled dumbling, the warmth in my chest never exceeded the tolerable level. My head was also searing. The cave of my eyes was dry yet it was hot like waterfall was going to gush out. My own breath was like dry ice on my hand, before evaporating away into nothingness.


    Then slowly, as if stopped time started moving again, my chest began to heat up. I was struck with a sense of panic. Was this my limit, I wondered to myself. As if responding to my question, there was a thin crack on the marble in my hands. The crack, closer to a slice, cut cleanly across the marble surface. The sheen on it started to wane, followed by the light of the chalk circle. I knew that it was finally over.


    The heat in my chest was still rising, though very slowly. I could still feel the heat across my body though. Was it not supposed to recede or something? I could imagine handling a toasted baby would be so troublesome for the caretaker lady. Milk would evaporate upon contact with my face. That was how hot I thought it was.


    Unless, like the light, it was not a physical sort of heat. This pain, was also not real.


    The marble was still glowing lightly. I reckoned that the ritual would only be truly over once it returned to its glowless glory. I wonder if I could quicken its pace by creating more cracks or something. Miss Clara suddenly squared her gaze on me. She must have sensed my intention. What a sensitive master.


    Of course, judging from my luck with magic so far, I did not have the bravery to try it. It was better that I escaped from this unscathed (from both the magic and my teacher). It would be such a waste to end my life when I was yet to utter a single meaningful phrase in my second life.


    The light was almost out in the marble. The external magic flow was also slowing down. Miss Clara was still fixing her stare on me. Anytime now...


    ..


    ..


    .


    BANG!


    The door, the firmly shut door, was banged open. It was an explosion in the midst of silence. Miss Clara turned her head to the source with such a force that it could break a wall.


    Standing at the lit entrance, was a young boy. A child.


    A heap of brown hair. A familiar shade of brown.


    A sudden gush of something filled the back of my eyes at that sight.


    The marble exploded to bits in my palm.


    ...

 Waking up and Disquieted

    I opened my eyes, a bit heavier than usual.


    My head hurt like it came back from a hangover. There was this hard feeling on my forehead, but I was presently aware of nothing that was physically pressing on my body.


    As opposed to the top, the rest of my body felt like it went through a sauna. I felt revitalized, brimming with a strange energy that was indescribable. The little muscles in my body told me clearly of their limitations, yet I had this urge to run around like those passionate soccer enthusiasts. Even though I didn¡¯t remember ever playing the sport, I felt like I would be decent at it. At least, the me now would be able to make a beeline for the goal and outrun all the defenders.


    Which reminded me, was there even anything similar to sports in this magic and sword-fighting world? It couldn¡¯t be the people¡¯s lives all revolved about fighting monsters for survival. If that was the case, my father would have been at the forefront with his swift chantless magic, instead of doing plain old paperwork.


    The ceiling in Miss Clara¡¯s office looked ornate with all its curves and intricate carvings. On closer inspection, it was a picture of men and women wearing white Greece-like clothes that seemed like picturesque clouds even if there were no patterns on them. They all had wings that looked different from each other but were all drawn with the same style. Upon looking very closely, there were eight pairs of wings, and each of the man/woman was holding something that looked disturbingly similar to a...pizza slice. With no toppings.


    May be I was just hungry. I had been eating/drinking nothing but tasteless milk for the last one year plus or so. But I digressed.


    I remembered a certain disaster that happened vividly in my memories as if it happened yesterday, or just right now. But I was left lying where I usually slept, it looked like afternoon outside, and there was no one in the room. If it had not been for that strangely vivid dream, the marble exploding so abruptly in my little hand that it would sure to leave a scar, I would be thinking it was just another workless day.


    It would be nice if someone, a caretaker lady perhaps, could come and bring me around so I could observe and infer what had happened. There was a questionable gap in my memories, and I could not help feeling that something was off about my surroundings.


    Maybe if I could get into a half-crawl position...uuup!


    ..It was easier than I thought. Just as I thought, this energy that was bubbling underneath my thin toddler skin was acting like some doping power. I felt like I could move my body like a normal kid now. As I was thinking this, I felt something that I was not supposed to feel. Not at this stage anyway.


    It was...hair.


    Short hair was brushing across my ears. No wonder the pillow had felt strangely stiffer than usual. I was lying on my hair...which I was not supposed to have. Not since I last remembered.


    Putting aside the inexplicability of the situation, I felt like had to touch my hair. It was short, but I could see that it was brown in colour...


    I tugged on it, maybe a bit harder than how I should treat my newborn hair.


    As i realized the hair, I also saw my palms: they seemed slightly more well-defined, instead of the lump of squishiness that could hold onto naught but my own clothes. I could see more of my legs (I actually had legs now) and the soles of my feet looked like they could actually support my body.


    For some reason, I had a growth spurt. An over-day growth spurt.


    I touched my face. My skin had also slightly, slightly hardened. It now felt like tomato skin as opposed to the likes of boiled tofu.


    And right where my forehead was feeling funny...was a hard object.


    It was a foreign, physically hard object, at the middle of my forehead. Embedded in my skin like some electronic chip.


    It had four smooth sides, and sharp at the middle. It felt a gem of some sort...but why was it in the middle of the skin of my forehead like the most natural thing?


    ..Did I get sent to another world due to that magical disaster? One where having physical objects embedded in your skin was the norm?


    I looked around, almost frantically. The ceiling, it was the first time I took notice of such a thing in Miss Clara¡¯s room, so it was not proof for my location. I heaved a mental sigh of relief when I saw the colourful row of potions lined up on the polished wooden table. I had never been so happy to see them in their toxic glory.


    Miss Clara¡¯s bookshelf of colourful parchments and scrolls was at the corner. Her medical box laid drenched in dust at the top of the bookshelf. Everything was where it used to be. This was unmistakably Miss Clara¡¯s office.


    The only difference, a remarkable one, was the huge beige-coloured curtain that covered one whole section of the room from sight. It was the secluded area where the disaster had taken place. The door was also behind the curtain. I felt a feeling similar to being in a secret chamber that had no way out from inside.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Curiosity, anxiety being a large part of it, welled up in me. I did not know what had happened that caused the harmless marble to suddenly become little crumbles. I did not know why I had suddenly become physically 2 years older. I did not know what happened to the people that I knew ¨C or used to know ¨C that were no doubt alive in the missing pieces of my memories.


    The energy was telling me to use it. The gem at my forehead was slightly throbbing at my increased heartbeats. The muscles in my body were itching to move, despite having grown at a rate impossible for normal human beings.


    As easy as it was, I hopped down from the bed. The height seemed much less intimidating now.


    The rug underneath my feet seemed to swallow me whole. But I was grateful for its soft fur against my bare feet that had yet to be used to walking vertically. I walked, at first totteringly, then vehemently, ashamed of my own baby-like incompetence at something like walking. Tired by my own emotional outbursts, I settled for a light gait, my steps muffled by the carpet.


    The curtain, my barricade from the outside world, was right in front of me. I looked for a gap, but there was not any. The curtain extended all the way to the ceiling. It looked much like a fortress from the vantage of a young child.


    I went to the end of the curtain that met the wall. I made a gap and wanted to peek through...but the curtain was so heavy that it pushed back against my arm and hit the wall like a real barricade.


    I tried again and again, but the curtain was unrelenting. My sore arms lay flattened against my petite, miniscule body of a child.


    In the deafening silence that seemed to swallow the whole of my consciousness, something surged up within me. An emotion that was overwhelmingly familiar to me, yet it felt foreign in this world that was not my own ¨C I was painfully aware of it.


    Isolation.


    The gem in my forehead throbbed even as my heartbeats slowed down into a lull in my ears. It felt hard and cold, abnormal under my skin. I was breathing, slowly and surely, but my own breaths were nonexistent in my ears. I could feel a numbness spreading from my fingers that were wrapped by air, from my feet that were eaten up by the rug. Slowly, but surely, I could feel my existence, my sense of self fading from the clarity of the world around me.


    The gem was prickling at my skin, grinding against the soft flesh of my forehead, like a jarring reminder of my own wretched and inexplicable existence.


    The curtain suddenly sprang open like a storm had forced its way through. A breeze hit my face. My heart suddenly resumed its thumping, hammering against my bewildered mind, and I was made further aware of the foreign object that was pressing against my forehead.


    Even more so when standing on the other side of the barricade, was the white child.


    The sight of grey was staggeringly breathtaking, as opposed to the colourful room I was in. He closed his eyes for some reasons, but I found myself unconsciously yearning for his gaze which had always been pure and kind.


    There was a silence that hung between us, like long lost friends, but unlike before, I could hear my own vivid breathing, and feel the life of another person next to my own.


    Then I realized it.


    As opposed to my own calming heartbeats, his was a mess. I could feel how shaken up he was, his small little shoulders seemed as fragile as glass, unlike the usual sense of comfort they gave. He stood still, but it seemed to take everything out of him in order to remain poised and unperturbed.


    He could sense my appearance beyond the opened curtain, but his eyes remained closed, his feet rooted to the hard ground. His grey hair seemed to lose its initial brilliance, clinging to the side of his face which had begun to grow edges that should not be seen in a child.


    There was a disturbing sound of something tearing open. Then a single, thin line appeared on his face, cutting across his almond-shaped left eye. The cut was perfectly straight and elegant, as if it was just a misplaced strand of hair. But no self-denial could hide its true nature: blood rimmed along the cut, into a thin flow of blood, dripping down his ashen face.


    He winced in realization and in pain. The childlike features of his face seemed to contort into something unrecognizable on his face that was always noble and composed, as opposed to his age.


    My numb legs were already moving before I told them to. The energy in my body was boiling up my skin, the gem was still stuck uncomfortably in my forehead...but I could pay that no heed. There was an urgency, a compelling force, a soundless chant that seemed to reverberate in my mind. I couldn¡¯t name it at that time.


    I stumbled over myself with my sudden actions. The shame that had subsided seemed to lurk at the corner of my mind, but it happened too quickly, like the sudden burst of my emotions, that I could do nothing in response.


    I was caught in a pair of thin-looking arms, but they were hard and tough befitting of a regular sword practitioner. Putting aside my own sense of comfort at the proximity, I took the chance to look closer at his, injury.


    I could not accept it. I could not bear the thought that a flaw could exist in this world that seemed perfect with wonder up until now. I could not utter a single world.


    Wrapped in this silence that was almost comfortable, we stood still. He seemed at peace, sleeping with his eyes closed, if I could just delete from my mind his short and raspy breathing, his thumping heartbeats that passed from the contact, and the stream of blood that was out of place on his ashen skin. Then, slowly, he tried to open his eyes. His eyelids shuddered with what seemed like pain and shock at the blood that clung on his eye. But it was a relief, a silver lining in this incident, that he could open his left eye fully and it was not touched by the cut. Just milimetres away from the cut.


    I did not know how to heal. I only knew how to create disasters. I wanted to touch that wound, to knead the two sides of the cut and try to push them together again, like dough. Something hot seemed to flow at my chest, and spill at the cave of my eyes. I could see his face clearly; his serene expression, giving off a sense of resignation, was burnt into my eyes. I wanted to pull at his cheeks, to somehow change the way he was gazing at me. It was a look of hurt, of sadness, of pain, and all of that pushed into a corner of his eyes, where the amber light seemed to flicker only slightly, like a tattered soldier.


    He raised one of his hands, and put it gently atop my head.


    I did not know what to think. Time flew by my ears. I did not know how to rationalize this feeling, this burning anger. The hand felt comforting to me, as he smoothed out my hair and lightly touched the gem on my head. I did not know why I was the one being comforted.


    Maybe it was all just a dream.

 Recollection and Obscurity

    Clara Efferine''s POV


    It perhaps had been a stranger day than usual.


    The sunlight was abundant, the God''s spirits were in a good mood, and most importantly, I finally had some free time. So I figured I should continue on this project of mine to improve the magic ability of my student, Charlotte Howard.


    I said improve, but really there was no need to. She was still too young for me to conduct a thorough check, but my instinct was telling me when I last healed her that her latent holy power was beyond what the Pope or any human child was capable of at her age. Which was a mere two years old. Simply terrifying. It was as if God had no other use for his power and was stuffing it all inside that little body filled with mystery.


    And what a mystery she was. She had yet to learn to talk, but she showed understanding to adult talks to a surprising degree. She was an obedient child, rarely cried, and followed instructions like an actual adult. Sometimes I forgot she was still just a little blob that could neither walk nor speak. But I digressed.


    I had prepared her soul prior to this using some rather expensive soul cleansing potions. One should always make sure to never use holy magic to touch an impure soul, or the repercussions on the caster was innumerable. Though I had gone the extra mile to give her the best treatment, judging from the way she looked at me, almost fearfully and contemptuously at times, I had an inkling that it had all gone too waste.


    There was no need to ponder upon it further, however. What was gone was gone. If I did not start today, then the next available day would be a month from now, and any effects of the expensive soul cleansing potions wouldreally be gone. And I simply could not wait that long.


    I drew the magic circle and prepared the transmission marble beforehand. It was top grade Kraken marble, taken fresh from an adult Kraken. Its magical conductivity was off the charts, as well as its magical sensitivity. Well, nothing should happen as long as the girl had a sound mind and no external magical disturbance.


    The magic worked like this: I would amplify my own holy power using a mixture of stabilizing wind-element potions and invigorating fire-element potions. Then I would transfer a portion of my inner holy power to the magic circle, where it would be further amplified by three. The marble would accumulate the magical power and transfer it to the girl''s body via contact in a constant flow that had been fixed by me beforehand. Yes, everything was ready.


    ..Everything had gone smoothly up until now.


    No alarms rung yet, but the silence still drove researchers like me mad sometimes. But I was experienced enough to not let it cloud my judgements. Things were going well. The girl was apparently in a good mental state today and was withstanding the magical influx well. It should be unbearable on her body but as expected, her cognitive abilities were quite developed for a child. I had only glanced at her, half worriedly half sternly, when she started holding on to the marble like her dear life. I was glad that she got the message, but maybe her perception of me was a bit warped...


    It was close to completion. The knot in my mind was unraveling, when suddenly the door opened like an explosion next to my ear. I made sure the door was locked, with magic. How could someone just burst in? I also made sure to inform all adults in charge of my experiment today. Unless...


    ...it wasn''t an adult at all. Of course. It was the young child of Baron Blythe. My dear nephew.


    Usually I would have been fairly excited at the fact that he could break my magic barrier at such a young age, and probably unconsciously too. However, the researcher''s mind was ringing alarms in my head. For every time this kid was around, my dear student was always behaving in a manner that was very unlike herself, often resulting in violence - as reported to me by the Head Maid Dana.


    I had no time to ponder the reasons for her strange reactions to my nephew. Because what happened next was like the second explosion to my sanity.


    There was, a tiny explosion in the middle of the magic circle. There, in the hand of the girl, were the broken pieces of the expensive Kraken marble that I had traded three months of my salary with the Pope for. I could feel my veins bursting.


    And come with that, the realization of what was to come. But I was one step too late.


    The magic energy that was receding into the magic circle, started running amok due to the marble exploding. The magic circle became unstable and released all the magic power that it was supposed to hold. And lying at the center of that circle, the little blob - my dear student - took the full brunt of my holy power that was fifteen times amplified. And she took it in when her body was already saturated with magic power due to the ritual.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    A small feeling of horror crept towards me. But it was hopeless. I could not jump inside the circle because I would only disrupt the magic even further. And no long-distance magic would work inside that circle that was positively overflowing with magic power.


    The girl''s body glowed, blindingly, impossibly. She seemed to have lost consciousness, lying deadly still yet growing bright like a fire torch. My nephew stood confusedly at the door. I was going to have a talk with him after this, if we survived this magical explosion.


    There was a small bud of something on the girl''s forehead. I felt my innards getting cold. It was magical petrifaction. It came after over-saturation of magical power, when the body tissues were turned into magical stones due to the overwhelming amount of magical power in the body.


    Was she, beyond saving? My first disciple, to die in a case of magical petrifaction?


    I had to risk it. For my student. For the compensation of my (broken) Kraken marble.


    I broke my stone barriers. I came next to the boundary of the magic circle. I coated myself with an abundance of vector reversing magic and brought the girl out. It was a heavy toll on both my magical capacity and physical body. I now knew that physically interfering with a magical explosion was a bad thing, even with such an advanced magic like vector reversing.


    Was this girl worth it?


    I did not know yet.


    Seconds left until the explosion. I could feel like it was just yesterday. There was barely a second for me to think about the consequences. With the burning baby on one hand, I tackled towards my nephew standing dumbfounded at the door.


    BOOM CRASHHHH!!!


    Air exploded behind my ear like thunder. The explosive waves hit my back of my torso like the hand of giant killing the ants in its way. I could hear the stone wall around me crack and crumble under the force of the explosion. Human force really was helpless against the inexplicable power of magic.


    And there went my secluded room in a quiet corner of the Howard residence.


    My breathing had stabilized before I knew it. The little blob that was positively glowing like a golden statue was lying by my stomach, eerily still in the sound of the ruckus made by the explosion. My nephew was lying next to her, his eyes rolled back, unconscious of the disaster he had indirectly caused.


    I wonder why he had broken inat that time.


    People''s hurried steps were resounding in the dark hallway filled with smoke. I half wanted to teleport myself out of this predicament, but I could not, out of good conscience, run away from being the adult one here. After all, the culprits were two clueless kids...or at least, one of them was.


    I could hear a sizzling sound. A disturbing sound from the past. I whipped my face towards the source. The burning baby was still steaming up by some mysterious reasons. Or not...I knew the precise reason.


    She was filled up with an amount of magical energy meant to exceed her capacity...and then further stuffed by some more due to the marble breaking. Neither her physical body nor her mental power was strong enough to withstand this over-saturation of magical power yet. And I was just short of anything to relieve her of that excess power. Worse off, she was already partially magically-petrified, judging from the magical stone that was budging from her forehead.


    The only thing I could do now, to prevent a second disaster (and to secure my own safety) was to put a seal on this power and pray in hope that it settled in this young child''s body. And to separate her from human contact lest she had a reaction like the one with my nephew and explode again. This time from her own skin. And I would be hunted to death by the Red-eyed Beast of Isla.


    How I despised that man. Taking away the best thing I''ve found in my life, my dear Leticia. I did not enjoy the thought of having to do him any favors, but Charlotte was truly Leticia''s child. I could feel it from her eyes. So I would naturally do this much at least.


    The seal was done. The heat had settled down, but her skin was still as hot as fever. I tried some magic dispersion spells, and found that her skin was an excellent conductor of magic. Almost on the same grade of Kraken marbles...maybe in compensation I would ask her for some of her skin instead. Maybe that was why she absorbed so much of the magical power.


    And having a skin that could conduct magic well, meaning that she would be a natural genius at transformation and shape-shifting spells. A very rare natural talent that would greatly enhance her fighting ability as well as threat level in the eye of the kingdom.


    For Leticia''s child, I would keep this in the dark. But one day...


    And since she was a natural at transformation spells, it only took me one advanced magic dispersion spell for her physically body to greedily absorb the magical energy and convert into chemical one. It might hurt a bit, but she seemed to be deeply unconscious, so she shouldn''t feel too much of it.


    In the blink of an eye, she became a three years old child.


    The steps were getting closer. I sluggishly raised my battered body. Researchers like me really should not engage in all of this dramatic action. It''s not good for women of my age...cough!


    I put up my nephew''s body against the wall. He seemed okay, with just some bumps in the head from the fall. I healed him for a bit, before quickly grabbing the girl''s body on the floor. Making my way inside through the smoke, I put her on the bed, and draped the blanket over her.


    I walked to the border of the carpet. A researcher was one who always prepared. I just hadn''t known I needed to use this for an experiment on a kid.


    But I guess, I had already put quite a high stakes on her already. Accepting her as a disciple despite her past, giving her my self-mixed soul cleansing potions, using my expensive Kraken marble on her, using a fourth of my inner magical energy on her...I would be damned if she did not turn into a magician to be feared by the whole kingdom. With her natural talent, and my magical knowledge, I would make sure she become the strongest magician of her generation.


    With an incantation, the magic circle imbued in the carpet glowed a bright golden colour, like topaz. Then a protective barrier was set in place.


    This was one of my masterpieces. One of the strongest holy-element barriers that could block almost every elements, imbued in my carpet and could be activated any time, but only one time. The barrier would prevent any intruders from disturbing her, and also to contain the damage if...my bet failed and she exploded in her sleep due to unstable magic power.


    When she managed to wake up and was able to think rationally, the mere amount of magic in her body should let her break this barrier with ease. Though that thought saddened me quite a bit. It had taken no less than one month to brainstorm this magic circle and two days to actually create it.


    But just in case, I would put a curtain to block people from getting all curious. A sleeping patient deserved her much-needed privacy after all.


    ...I wonder though, why had she suddenly exploded at the sight of my nephew? What had you done to her, Keith?

 Recurrence and Rediscovery

    Charlotte Howard¡¯s POV


    Maybe it was all just a dream.


    I kept telling myself that, but questions were swirling in my head like hordes of hungry customers.


    I could not bear to look at the stream of blood flowing from the face of my angel. The gem, or whatever it was, was getting more painful on my forehead that I just want to rip it off. And this swirling magma inside my body was threatening to overflow at the slightest wave of my emotion.


    I wonder who had caused all this? My rationality was telling me that there was no definite, central culprit. But some mysterious force in my body, bolstered by the excess energy, was whispering to me like a dark seductress. There was something I had forgotten, something not of this world, but he was to blame for all the misfortune I was having. Even the injury of this faultless child.


    It was not rational. But I could not help believing in it.


    The world felt silent. I thought of it; I searched my mind for that one figure shrouded in unending darkness that I knew was the culprit to all of my pains. This pain, that could never be satiated. I was going to give it back tenfold.


    Who was blocking it from me? Who was shielding that despicable from my memory? Was that you, God of J?


    Even if it was you...so what? I would just kill you then.


    Oh.


    It was so simple. The statement came like enlightenment. I felt my head being cleared up like the sky after a pouring rain.


    Yes. I had power now. Unimaginable power within the small palms of my hands. But I knew I was strong. Strong enough to kill one of two people.


    Maybe I could not kill him yet, that God. But if I keep on massacring, then he would have to humour me anyway. I would pry it from him, the memory of my nemesis.


    First, let''s start with whoever had caused my angel to bleed.


    My vocal cord had not been used for too long. I could not use it, but when the energy in my body filled my throat, suddenly I felt a familiar feeling, like I had been talking my entire life.


    I opened my mouth. My first words were:


    "Tell me. Who was it?"


    My own voice gave me a slight surprise. It was deeper and more tenuous than the high tones of a normal child. It was like the voice of an adult. The language felt foreign as I rolled it off my tongue. It was not my native language. But this, this was no doubt my voice. My real voice.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    I was...


    "W-who are you..? A-are you...Ch-charlotte?"


    I was not the only one surprised by my voice. The white child was not one to stutter so distastefully, but he must have been in a confusion to hear me speaking like this. Well, it was of no consequence to me anyway.


    I gather the energy in my throat and started speaking again.


    "I am, indeed, your cousin. Now please tell me who was the one that did this to you. Hurry."


    I had a feeling I would not be able to freely move when they caught winds of me waking up. I needed to make my moves now and kill as much as I could. But some people really deserved to die first.


    The white child looked in utter confusion. Then he had this strange laugh on his face that was still stained with the blood. He looked much less pained now, that was good. But the same would not be said for the one who did this to him.


    He glanced a bit timidly at the door, then looked at me. I really wanted to wipe away the blood on his face, but I did not know if I would open up the wound instead.


    He spoke in a low voice. I felt vexed by how secretive he was acting, but I went along anyway. What I needed was the information. Then I could just leave to do my deed.


    "Charlotte, you can''t tell this to anyone. Promise me?"


    "Okay. Hurry hurry."


    "...why are you in such a hurry? This was, was made by Mother. My mother. She had an argument with Father like usual, and I said something rather brazen. She gave me this stern look. Her eyes were bright green, like the elf! Then the next moment, I was kicked out of the room. I felt pain in my eye, so I went to look for a mirror. I didn''t know it was such a deep cut..."


    ... .. . Alright, it was the mother then.


    "What does your mother look like?"


    "...She has short black hair and pretty green eyes. We don''t look very similar though. They said I''ve got my eyes and everything from my father''s side."


    "..Okay. Wait here then."


    I made for the door. There was force in my steps. I could feel the power surging within me, responding to my blood lust. I would bound it and keep it under wraps now. I needed to make it to the woman herself without being suspected.


    I had heard more than enough when I was still with Father. The relationships of everyone in this house, had long since been grasped by me, their "courteous" way of speaking, their convoluted etiquettes, all internalized. I knew that I was naturally observant towards these kinds of things. However, I had never found a use for them even if they had come to me as naturally as breathing.


    I had great use for them now, when I needed to navigate the house before they made a ruckus of me waking up.


    As all these thoughts were swirling in my mind, my physical self pulled me back to reality. Literally. A hand was firmly on my wrist, stopping me from going further.


    The white child, left eye now closed because of the sudden movement he made, was stopping me from my mission.


    What was this? Could he not see that I was doing this for him?


    "...let go."


    "Where are you planning to go? Charlotte, you are so strange today. You speak like an adult, you look so much different from yesterday, and you are burning up! You shouldn''t be moving anywhere!"


    ... .. . He was...


    I wanted to rid myself of his hold, but suddenly found no strength to. Or my body just did not want to act against this boy. Or it was how he looked at me that I could not bring myself to resist his words.


    It was okay. He was okay. You needn''t kill.


    It was a mantra from the back of my head. But I knew better to trust there words. They were from someone trying to appease my anger, to make me forget this pain. But I simply could not.


    I did not belong here. I needed to be somewhere else. To exact my revenge. So I need to kill.


    I closed my eyes, and swung my gripped arm hard. I broke free. Immediately, pushing aside the sound of that someone opposite me wincing in pain, I ran out of the room.


    The hallway was long and dark. Something was rising within me. But I had no time to pay attention to these trifling emotional responses. I needed to accomplish my plan: kill that woman.


    I asked a maid walking by with the utmost grace of a noble lady. The lady looked me down from head to toes. She was probably a young employee, as her confusion over my identity was clearly shown on her manner. This place needed better service training for these maids. Her leaving me in wait was already a breach of etiquette on its own. She was lucky I had a bone to pick today, just not with her.


    Then, the maid threw her confusion out of the window and pointed me to a door in the distance: the door to Viscountess Ballester''s room.


    I excused myself gracefully and walked towards it with great mirth.


    A sliver of red was caught at the corner of my vision. But I paid it no heed. The door was right in front of me.


    My whole world shook as if a car had rammed into me. I was shackled between a pair of arms that was as heavy as lead. Ironic was that I found comfort, a feeling I had missed, in this embrace that was closer to an arrest.


    Red eyes looked into mine. My father''s ragged figure was burned into my sight.