The Life After Death

  Chapter 3: A Year in the Life

  A year. That’s how long it had been since I found myself reborn into this strange, magical world. It’s astonishing how much can change in a year, even when you’re a baby… especially when you’re a baby.

  When I first opened my eyes in this world, I was nothing but a helpless lump. It felt as if I was a prisoner in my own body, reliant on others for everything, flailing like a fish tossed onto land.

  But look at me now, I can grip objects with all the pride of a man wielding his first blade, even if it's usually a spoon. And speech? Well, let’s just say I’ve perfected the fine art of making my parents think I’m an adorable genius, while secretly holding back my wit to avoid being burned as some sort of prodigious demon-child.

  Learning to crawl was a revelation. The freedom! The power!

  The sheer joy of being able to move wherever I wanted—even if it meant knocking over a few things along the way.

  Helena found my newfound mobility endlessly amusing, often cheering me on as I dragged myself across the floor like some sort of determined, wriggling worm. “Go, Em! You can do it!” she’d cry, her silver-white hair bouncing as she clapped.

  Then came walking. Or rather, my version of walking, which involved a lot of wobbling, falling, and occasionally face-planting into the floor. But those first shaky steps? They felt like conquering an empire.

  Of course, Raiden had to turn it into a spectacle. “That’s my boy!” he’d roar, lifting me high into the air like I’d just won a tournament. Elara, ever the gentle one, would fuss over me, worried I’d hurt myself. And Helena? She took it as an opportunity to teach me how to chase her, laughing as she darted just out of my reach.

  Talking came next, or at least my attempts at it. My vocabulary was limited, and my pronunciation left much to be desired, but I managed to string together enough words to make myself understood. ‘Mom,’ ‘Dad,’ and, much to my delight, ‘Hel’ were my go-to phrases.

  Pronounced as ‘El,’ it was a name I chose partly for simplicity and partly because it amused me on how fitting it was for someone who gave me such hell. Whether it was Helena's relentless energy, her constant poking and prodding, or her endless demands for attention, she had a knack for keeping me on my toes—figuratively, of course, since I was still mastering standing upright. My attempts at more complex sentences often ended in garbled nonsense, much to everyone’s amusement.

  However, not everything came so easily. Mastering my body’s… less glamorous functions was an ongoing struggle. No matter how hard I tried, there were moments when nature won out. Let’s just say the phrase ‘potty training’ wasn’t even on the horizon yet.

  Helena, of course, found my lack of control hilarious, frequently giggling and pointing out my ‘accidents’ with an almost alarming enthusiasm. "Mama, Em stinks again!" she’d announce, her voice a mix of exasperation and amusement. If I could’ve crawled into a hole and disappeared, I would’ve.

  Despite the humiliations, life continued.

  It’s amusing, really. I catch Elara beaming at me when I stumble over a word or trip over my own feet, as though I’ve just solved one of the great mysteries of the universe. I’ve overheard her and Raiden a few times, whispering in amused pride about how quickly I seem to pick things up.

  “He’s definitely gifted,” Elara would say, her voice warm. “It’s like he already understands things beyond his years.” Raiden, on the other hand, ruffles my hair and proudly declares, “He’ll be running by harvest season, you’ll see!” as though I’m destined to break land-speed records.

  I play along, of course—who am I to deny them their pride? After all, progress is progress, and I’m starting to enjoy these small victories. They feel earned, even if my mind is already miles ahead of this body.

  They think I’m a gifted bright child, eager to learn. And while I appreciate the sentiment, they don’t know the half of it.

  What they don’t know—what they can’t know—is that my mind remains untouched by the limitations of this infant body. I remember everything from my previous life, and with it came the gift that had always set me apart.

  My ability to seamlessly remember everything I see, learn or read.

  In my old world, it had made me a master of information and strategy. Here, at this age, it makes me a sponge. Everything I hear, whether it’s through Raiden’s exaggerated tales or Elara’s soothing lullabies, gets stored away. I absorb it all, piecing together the fragments of this world, its magic, its culture, its dangers. Even the snippets of hushed conversations between Raiden and Elara, though not meant for my ears, weave into the tapestry of my understanding.

  With all that listening, I had come to learn much more about this world. This world only had one continent called Aether, a place of vast beauty and hidden dangers, divided into five regions.

  Aetheria was the capital city, a beacon of advancement and elegance. Based on Raiden's explanations, its buildings were crafted with intricate designs and advancements that reflected a blend of functionality and artistry. The structures were innovative and efficient, showcasing a mastery of craftsmanship that set them apart from the other regions.

  His colourful descriptions always left me chuckling, though I could tell he held a genuine respect for Aetheria's grandeur.

  The city was not only brimming with glory but also home to Magia Academia, the grand academy where the strongest of mages honed their craft and where young mages train to become the best. The academy stood as a symbol of wisdom and protection. This city served as a unifying hub, connecting the diverse regions of Aether. Its significance made it a place where cultures intertwined, and alliances were forged, bringing the entire continent together in its shadow.

  Umbacrest and the Hollows, on the other hand, were places of adventure and danger, where brave souls battled monsters in the infamous Hollows.

  I cannot believe it—his stories were true—this world has monsters too.

  Raiden and Elara rarely went into detail about the monsters that resided there. This left me endlessly curious about what kind of creatures we were up against in this world. Were they mindless beasts, or something far more cunning?

  I often overheard fragments of Raiden’s stories and Elara’s quiet conversations about the Hollows and the monsters that roamed them, but they never seemed to go into much detail. Hints of towering beasts, cunning predators, and shadowy entities lurking in the depths were all I had to piece together.

  Aurilion and Flintshire remained wrapped in mystery; even Raiden admitted he knew almost nothing about them, which struck me as odd given his otherwise adventurous past.

  How could someone who’s been everywhere forget about two entire regions? I mused. Or maybe he’s just too dense to have cared? Perhaps the man’s fire magic burnt through his sense of direction too.

  We lived in a region known as Verdant Vale, a land as picturesque as its name suggested. Rolling hills of vibrant grass stretched out in every direction, their lush green expanse dotted with patches of wildflowers and vast lands stretching endlessly.

  The fertile soil and gentle slopes of Verdant Vale provided a livelihood for many, with fields of wheat and corn swaying in the breeze, and orchards bursting with fruit ready to be picked. The air here was fresh, carrying the scent of blooming flora and fertile earth.

  At night, the sky transformed into a masterpiece. Two moons hung in the heavens—one a pale silver, the other a radiant golden-red—casting a mystical glow over the land. The interplay of their light painted the landscape in a surreal, ethereal beauty, as if the very heavens were alive. This was Verdant Vale, a place that felt both grounding and otherworldly at the same time.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  And with all that, the year had passed.

  Then came the day my world expanded in ways I could scarcely comprehend, it all began a few months after I turned one. Helena, ever the bundle of energy, had stormed into my sight like a whirlwind, dragging me by the hand to a quiet corner of the house, insisting we play hide-and-seek. “Em! Hide here, it’s perfect!” she whispered loudly, her purple eyes sparkling with mischief. Here I was, swept along on unsteady feet, wobbling and stumbling as I tried to keep up with her boundless energy. “Hel, slow down!” I tried to shout, though it came out as garbled gibberish. My infant tongue betrayed me, but the urgency in my tone must have gotten through, or so I hoped.

  Helena giggled, her laughter like chimes in the wind. “Oh, come on, Em! You’re too slow. You’ll never find me if you’re this slow!” She darted around the corner, leaving me determined to prove her wrong, even if it meant toppling over like a sack of potatoes.

  As I came around the corner, my eyes locked onto the books waiting silently on those dusty shelves, as if they had been placed there just for me to discover. It was then I saw it… the so-called library. Rows of neatly bound books lined the small, forgotten shelves, their spines calling to me like whispers of secrets long hidden.

  To Helena, the library seemed all too familiar, her curiosity as fleeting as a summer breeze but no less endearing in its persistence. For anyone else, they were just words on a page. For me, they were an opportunity to an entire world waiting to be explored.

  Helena, couldn’t resist poking her nose into my business. “Em! I’ll teach you to read these one day, okay?” she declared with the confidence of someone who had absolutely no idea how to teach anything. “I can teach you everything, like how to fight, or how to pick flowers for Mama! You’ll be smart if you listen to me.”

  I smirked internally, suppressing the chuckle that rose in my chest. Oh, will I now? Pretending to gurgle like the toddler I was supposed to be.

  Helena’s enthusiasm, though over-the-top, was oddly endearing. For all her antics, she genuinely cared, and there was something comforting about her determination to teach me, even if I already knew far more than she could imagine.

  Still, I humoured her. "Alright, Hel, show me what you’ve got," I said, my garbled words barely resembling actual language but enough to make her giggle.

  "See? You’re already learning from me!" she exclaimed, puffing out her chest with pride.

  I let her go on, nodding along, all the while mentally piecing together the letters and words as I quietly devoured every page within reach. The letters, though unfamiliar at first, arranged themselves in my mind until I understood them perfectly.

  A few hours had passed since Helena first dragged me into this dusty little library, proudly proclaiming it the perfect hiding spot. For her, it was just another corner of the house to be conquered by her endless games, but for me, it quickly became a haven, a sanctuary of knowledge waiting to be devoured as soon as I could slip away unnoticed.

  The promise of uncovering secrets and diving into the unknown was too enticing to ignore. But Elara insisted it was bath time, interrupting my plans with her soft but firm voice as she entered the library. “Helena, Emrys, it’s time to wash up,” she called, her tone leaving no room for negotiation.

  Helena immediately pointed at me, wrinkling her nose dramatically. “Mama, Em stinks again!” she announced, her voice loud enough to echo off the shelves. I groaned internally, caught between the indignity of the situation and the amusement at her shameless honesty. Despite the interruptions, I was determined to return to that haven of knowledge, no matter the obstacles.

  After a quick wash and some family time at the dinner table, I waited for the perfect moment to slip away. I couldn’t let Elara catch me, she would undoubtedly declare it bedtime, and my precious library time would vanish in an instant.

  Sneaking back into the library was no small feat, my unsteady steps made every attempt feel like a perilous mission. Each creak of the floorboards felt deafening, and my wobbly gait betrayed me more than once as I stumbled my way across the room.

  Once I managed to sneak back into the library, my eyes were immediately drawn to the third shelf where a thin, worn out book was tucked away, almost as if someone had deliberately hidden it. The faintest trace of gold lettering on its spine glinted in the dim light, teasing me with the promise of secrets within.

  Determined, I approached the shelf, mustering all the strength my tiny body could provide. Standing on my tiptoes, I stretched as far as I could, wobbling precariously, until my fingers just barely hooked onto the book. Victory was short-lived, however, as the momentum sent me tumbling backward, landing on the floor with an unceremonious thud. At least the book was now in my grasp, even if my pride had taken a hit.

  As I lifted my head from the book that had softened my ungraceful fall, my eyes landed on the cover. Embossed in gold, the title stood out, unassuming yet impossibly simplistic: A Guide to Magic.

  I stared at it for a moment, brow furrowed, before a smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth. Could this be Raiden’s version of 'Magic for Dummies'? Barely holding back a snort. I could vividly imagine him sitting at a table, scratching his head while squinting at the pages, muttering some nonsense.

  A guide to magic huh?

  In my old world, magic was dismissed as superstition, a relic of ignorance in a society ruled by technology and logic. But here, as I continued reading, magic was real, woven into the very fabric of life. It was everywhere.

  Mana. That’s what they called it. The lifeblood of this world, present in the air, the land, the rivers, and even within the hearts of its people. And through mana, magic was born.

  The book outlined the basic foundations in careful, deliberate detail:

  Mana, I learned, was channelled through a person’s Manaheart. Every living being in Aether possesses a manaheart, functioning as both the source of their life energy and their magical potential. Like a beating heart, the manaheart circulates mana throughout the body, determining an individual’s ability to channel magic.

  The book described the manaheart as a spectrum of progression. A journey from the purest white to the deepest black, as the user’s capabilities, magical capacity and control grew stronger.

  Snow – The beginning, pure white.

  Moonstone – Pearlescent silver, a stage of early awareness.

  Dawn – A pale peach hue.

  Sunstone – A warm golden glow.

  Verdant – A rich green.

  Sapphire – Deep blue.

  Amethyst – A vibrant violet hue.

  Obsidian – Glossy black tinged with purple.

  Onyx – A shadowy black.

  Abyss – The end, pure pitch-black.

  The spectrum wasn’t just about power, it reflected growth, maturity, and an individual’s understanding of themselves and the world’s mana. The book explained how magic users who trained their manahearts could refine them over time, their aura intensifying with each stage, from faint and flickering to an overwhelming presence that could warp the very air around them.

  The book then described the process of strengthening one’s manaheart, a path of patience, discipline, and unwavering focus. It spoke of meditation as the cornerstone of mana refinement.

  By entering a state of complete calm, a mage could draw in mana from the world around them, guiding it through their manaheart like a river through a dam. This flow of mana strengthened the manaheart over time, gradually expanding its capacity and refining its quality.

  However, the book made it abundantly clear that such growth was not instant. It could take years—decades, even—to ascend to the next level, depending on one’s talent, effort, and connection to mana. The transition between levels wasn’t without struggle either.

  The text mentioned a term—’breaking through’—a moment when the manaheart reached its limit and needed to shatter its current boundaries to ascend. These breakthroughs were described as both physically and mentally taxing, often requiring immense willpower to endure.

  Interesting, running my fingers along the edge of the book. So power wasn’t simply gifted, it was earned. Grown. Forced into being through practice and resolve.

  I leaned back with a sigh, making a face as if I’d just been asked to carry an entire harvest up a hill. Meditation for years? Rolling my imaginary eyes. Why does it sound like I’m signing up for the world’s most boring marathon? Sit still, breathe, and absorb mana… over and over and over again. Oh joy.

  Suddenly, the candlelight flickered out, plunging the room into darkness. What the hell? My heart racing as an unsettling chill crept up my spine.

  The air behind me seemed to grow heavy, almost tangible, as if some enormous presence loomed in the shadows. Slowly, I turned, only to be met with the piercing gaze of Elara. Her voice was warm, but her grin carried the promise of consequences. "Here you are, my little Emrys," she said, her tone sweet yet firm, a tone that brooked no argument.

  "Time for bed," she declared, scooping me up with the efficiency of a mother well-versed in curbing mischief. My protests were silent, for what could I do against such an indomitable force? As she carried me away from the library and back to my cot, my thoughts lingered on the book and the revelations it contained. The concept of the manaheart, its stages, and its connection to magic fascinated me, igniting a hunger to know more.

  Tomorrow… I promised myself, staring up at the faint glow of the two moons through the window. Tomorrow, I’ll uncover more. I’ll learn about this manaheart. And I will figure out how to grow, not just in strength, but in understanding.

  This world is vast, its mysteries endless, and I intend to unravel every single one of them. For now, I’ll rest, but tomorrow begins the journey to truly mastering this new life.