A soft hush cloaked the early morning air as Kael stirred in his cradle. Tiny, chubby hands reached upward, fingers splaying with an unwitting curiosity. Yet behind those infant eyes, a practiced discipline took root. Already, he found ways to pulse minute strands of mana through his limbs—a slow, methodical weaving that only he knew was purposeful.
In the gentle glow of dawn that spilled in from the forge's shuttered windows, Mother gently lifted him, pressing a light kiss to his brow before carrying him into the main living area of their modest home. Around them, the hush of the village still reigned, its inhabitants not yet stirring beyond the crows of distant roosters.
She propped Kael against her shoulder, letting him take in the sight of the flickering hearth. Father was already at work, stoking the coals for the day's forging. Though neither parent realized it, Kael's senses took in far more than the faint crackle of flame. Threads of elemental Fire Mana, fanning outward from the coals, tickled at his perception. And as he had learned in these weeks since birth, the more he observed, the more clearly he could replicate.
He cooed, the closest approximation to speech his tiny lungs and tongue would allow. Mother smiled at him.
"Awake so early?" she murmured, rocking him gently. "No matter. You can watch your father work, can't you, my little Kael?"
She set him on a sturdy quilt near the forge, well out of harm's way but still close enough to see Father's silhouette as sparks flitted around each strike of the hammer. The ring of steel on steel reverberated through the air—a lullaby Kael had grown accustomed to. That melodic clang had become the drumbeat of his infancy, even as he honed deeper forms of mana control behind the guise of an innocent baby's gaze.
Morning Sparks
The clang of metal on anvil echoed in rhythmic measure, each strike feeding Kael's developing powers in subtle ways. While outwardly he only wiggled his arms and gurgled, inwardly he was cycling the intangible threads of mana from his core—still unawakened by typical standards—through his limbs, letting each pulse match the beat of the forge's hammer. This synergy helped him gain better control, building the foundation for more advanced feats he would try once his body caught up.
Occasionally, golden text rippled at the edge of his vision. A silent companion, the Status Window, hovered there at intervals, reminding him that every small step counted.
And yet, as each day passed, he sensed the need for more. Tiny exercises—like coaxing a spark in his palm or sensing microcurrents in the air—were effective, but they paled in comparison to the vast knowledge locked away in his mind. The memories of Aerion, the grand magus he once was, lingered like echoes from a distant dream. Sometimes those memories seemed so close he could nearly call forth advanced spells. But his present infantile vessel—soft bones, underdeveloped muscles—forced him to remain humble.
Patience, he reminded himself. The next leap would come with time.
Mother's voice broke his reverie. "Joren," she called—Father's name—"you're sure about the logs for the roof? We need to fix that leaky corner soon."
Father paused his hammering, wiping sweat from his brow as he turned. "Yes, Eliana. I plan to head to the eastern woods later. Might take half the day, so I'll finish these hinges first. Don't you worry."
She nodded, absently tidying the workspace near Kael. "Well, be safe. There've been rumors of more beasts straying close to the roads."
"Nothing I can't handle." He offered a reassuring grin. Then, with a soft chuckle, he glanced down at Kael. "I'd take the lad with me if he were older, let him see how to pick good lumber for forging billets. Another year or so, and I'll have him fetching water, eh?"
Kael let out a small, amused gurgle. The idea of trotting around the forest with Father, helping with forge-related tasks, was strangely inviting. In his past life, much of his time had been spent cloistered in arcane towers or on warfronts. This simple life, with all its mundane rhythms and familial warmth, carried its own magic.
Quiet Determination
Later, as Father set off for the woods with a small cart, Kael remained in Mother's care. She hummed a lullaby while preparing a midday meal, occasionally rocking Kael in her arms. Once satisfied he was content, she placed him in a small wicker seat by the open window so he could watch the village.
Outside, the dirt path meandered through a handful of cottages, each sporting a thin wisp of smoke from morning fires. Hens scurried, pecking at the ground, while a neighbor passed by carrying a basket of herbs. The day's tranquility belied any notion of the grand conflicts Kael knew lurked beyond. That was fine. This was the time for quiet, steady growth.
He inhaled, letting mana swirl in his chest. The environment was laced with the gentle presence of earth and wind energies—nature's quiet harmony. With focus, he directed a thin filament of mana to his hands, attempting to form a faint sphere of compressed air. If it were a full-blown spell from his old repertoire, he would conjure a swirling gust. Instead, a soft breeze tickled his palm.
[Notification: Skill Unlocked – Minor Air Channeling (Novice, Lv.1)]
A faint glow manifested, recognized only by Kael's mind. He suppressed the urge to grin, merely letting out an infant squeak. Another step. Though it felt almost trivial, each newly unlocked skill or increment of synergy further validated his approach. The clash of vast knowledge from a past life and the limitations of a baby's body was both humbling and exhilarating.
He exhaled, loosening the nascent swirl of air. The intangible strands dispersed. A ripple of contentment coursed through him as the Status Window shimmered, recording the update.
Status Window
Name: Kael Ashborne
Talent: SSS
Age: ~2 Months Old
Core Grade: Unawakened
Physique: Omni-Element Physique (Sealed)
Level: 1
Strength: 2
Intelligence: 10
Spirit: 9
Agility: 1
Constitution: 3
Skills:
Mana Sense (Novice, Lv.2) Minor Air Channeling (Novice, Lv.1)
He read the lines quickly, imprinting the new skill's presence on his mind. The day he formally awakened—acquiring a Red Core visible to all—was still some years away by normal standards. That gave him ample time to refine these small abilities.
A Merchant's Visit
Shortly past midday, the sound of creaking wooden wheels and a donkey's bray roused Kael from a light doze. Mother turned from the cooking pot, setting down a spoon as she peered through the window.
"Oh? It looks like Old Merrek's caravan." She wiped her hands on a cloth and moved to the front door, Kael cradled in the crook of her arm.
Outside, a small covered cart had stopped by their home. An older man with a broad straw hat hopped down, his face lined with kind wrinkles. "Greetings, Eliana!" he said, voice merry. "Heard Joren needed fresh forging supplies—charcoal, flux powder, and such. Thought I might as well bring a few trinkets. And is that the little one?"
Mother smiled, beckoning him closer. "Sure is. Kael's grown quite lively. My husband's out to gather wood, but do come in."
Once inside, the merchant set down a crate. Within, Kael caught glimpses of lumps of charcoal, small iron ingots, and pouches of forging materials. The older man rummaged further, pulling out small cloth-wrapped items.
Eliana pointed out the forging supplies they needed. "Joren will be thrilled. He's been running low on flux powder. The roads have been...well, folks are saying beasts roam closer to the villages, so not as many merchants come by these days."
Merrek clicked his tongue. "Aye, times are changing. But if there's coin to be made, I'll risk it. Now, see here—" He unwrapped a palm-sized object, revealing a tiny wooden rattle inscribed with delicate swirling lines. "No real enchantment, mind you, but it's said these patterns can soothe a child's aura. Might your Kael fancy it?"
Mother laughed softly. "He might, at that. Let's see."
She offered the rattle to Kael, who gazed at it with calm curiosity. Indeed, there was no direct magical presence in the carved lines—just an attempt at mimicking runic geometry. Still, Kael gurgled politely. Merrek chuckled, taking that as a sign of interest.
While they haggled over prices, Kael turned the rattle in his tiny hands, analyzing the etched design. Simple. Perhaps not truly enchanting, but it gave him ideas for future experiments. Runes needed precise mana-laden strokes to function, something an ordinary woodcarver typically couldn't replicate.
Eventually, the merchant moved to the door, concluding business. "Give Joren my regards, will you?"
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
"We will," Mother replied, waving. "Thank you for the supplies."
As Merrek's cart rolled away, Eliana settled Kael back near the hearth. He clutched the rattle, still fixated on the swirl patterns.
Growth in Subtle Waves
Hours passed in the quiet routine: Mother busied herself with chores and the midday meal, occasionally bouncing Kael on her knee or humming soft tunes. He took advantage of each lull, focusing inward to guide small pockets of mana around his body, synchronizing breath with the steady crackle of the fire. The forging area remained warm despite Father's absence. Now and then, Kael tested the boundaries of his newly acquired Minor Air Channeling—nudging a puff of air to swirl the edge of his blanket.
Each practice felt rewarding but also reminded him of the gulf between baby steps and the lofty arcana once at his fingertips. He would not rush, though. The precepts of disciplined magic he once taught to disciples were now a mantra for himself: build an unshakable foundation.
Near twilight, Father returned, dusty but triumphant, lugging fresh logs that he stacked by the workshop's side. After cleaning up, he joined them at the hearth, eating a simple dinner of stewed vegetables and bread. Kael watched, absorbing the day's gentle camaraderie.
Evening Embers
After the meal, Father relit the forge to finish the hinges he'd started earlier. Meanwhile, Mother placed Kael in a safe nook, a small cushioned area close to the warmth but removed from any danger. Flickers of orange danced across the walls, painting silhouettes of tools and half-finished metal pieces.
"Ah, there it is," Father muttered, rummaging through the supplies Merrek had brought. He retrieved a small pouch of flux powder, sprinkling a pinch onto the heated metal before hammering. Sparks flared. Kael, enthralled, drifted his senses outward—feeling the swirl of Fire and Earth Mana converge in the forging process.
A sudden flash: Father hammered a seam, and a wave of heated mana flared bright. Startled, Kael reflexively pulled at the air around him, shaping a quick swirl that dispersed near his fingers. The swirling air doused some of the stray sparks mid-flight. It was hardly noticeable, but enough to confirm that his skill was no fluke.
[Notification: Minor Air Channeling → Lv.2. Efficiency Improved!]
A silent pulse resonated within him. He let out a delighted, if small, squeal. Mother glanced back, thinking he was excited simply by the lights. She wasn't entirely wrong. In truth, Kael was excited by the quiet synergy forming between his environment and his slow but steady skill progression.
He felt his Spirit stat tug gently, as if on the verge of an uptick. The forging energies were feeding his sense of determination, fueling the cyclical growth of mana within. On a whim, he closed his eyes and carefully directed a fraction of that heat-laden atmosphere inward, letting it resonate with his body's budding mana circuits.
[Notification: +1 Spirit Through Focused Practice!]
Immediately, a subtle wave of dizziness overcame him, though not unpleasant. It was a sense of expansion—like stepping from a cramped hallway into a slightly bigger room. The world around him hummed a note clearer.
Mother, noticing Kael's quiet half-lidded gaze, scooped him into her arms. "Looks like someone's getting tired, or maybe too warm by the forge," she teased softly. "Come, let's settle you down."
She moved away from the intense heat, placing him near the family's smaller sitting area. Despite his exhaustion from mana practice, Kael strained to keep his eyes open. Sleep beckoned, but he wanted to glean just a bit more from the world around him.
Mother settled into a rocking chair, singing a lullaby under her breath. Father's hammering resumed, echoing in the background. The hearth's glow danced across the walls, stenciling fleeting shapes of wonder. Slowly, Kael's eyelids drooped, lulled by the melody and the rhythmic clang that had become the soundtrack of his infancy.
A Subtle Shift
Night fell, and the Ashborne home quieted. Father banked the forge's coals, carefully shutting down for the night. Mother tidied the table, then checked on Kael nestled in a comfortable swaddle.
While the rest of the household drifted into slumber, Kael's dreams remained half-laced with the memory of arcane runes and swirling mana. Even asleep, he unconsciously maintained a gentle cycling of mana sense, reinforcing those ephemeral circuits that would someday channel advanced spells. He might have once been Aerion, the grand magus, but for now, he was an infant forging new roads in a quiet village far removed from Aurelia's grand cities.
Hours later, a faint cry broke the silence—Kael's typical request for comfort or feeding. Mother obliged, cooing gently as she rocked him again. Briefly, in that half-awake state, Kael felt a fresh wave of warmth: unconditional love from a family unburdened by the tragedies he once knew. He vowed anew to protect this gentle life, no matter the costs.
Dawn's Promise
Morning arrived in a rush of gold across the eastern sky. Kael stirred, blinking away the vestiges of sleep. Father was already gone—off to deliver a newly forged batch of hinges and brackets to a nearby farm. Mother prepared a simple breakfast of oatmeal, pausing occasionally to smile at Kael.
After feeding him, she carried him out to the front stoop, letting him feel the fresh morning air. Birds flitted across the thatched roofs, and a soft breeze ruffled the linen cloth swaddling Kael's frame. He inhaled, consciously pulling in strands of wind energy, practicing the micro-channels he had discovered.
But something else drew his attention: just past the neighboring fence, a shimmer of mana rose from the earth. Likely it was a patch of naturally rich ground, or maybe the remnants of a minor ley line drifting near the surface. With a focused tilt of his head, Kael extended his senses. Indeed, a swirl of Earth Mana danced there, akin to a miniature vortex. If he were mobile, he would have crawled closer to investigate. Instead, he made do from afar, gleaning fleeting impressions of solidity and calm potency.
His body, though still too frail for grand feats, felt the lure of multiple elements. It reminded him of his Omni-Element Physique—still sealed, but occasionally glimpsed through subtle interactions with Fire, Air, and Earth energies. Each brush with a new element teased the synergy that might form once he awakened.
"Already so curious," Mother murmured, noticing his transfixed stare beyond the fence. "Just wait, Kael. Once you can walk, there'll be no stopping you."
He let out a small laugh, which turned into a cough-squeak. She patted his back gently. She had no idea how true her words were.
Subtle Milestones
By mid-morning, Kael had returned to the cozy interior. To an outside observer, he merely looked like an alert infant cooing and occasionally fidgeting. In reality, he was refining each breath, each subtle motion of mana sense, and even testing the shapes of basic runic arcs in his mind. He could recall entire treatises on runic forging, but applying them to a baby's uncoordinated grip would take time.
With a little wriggle, he tried to shift from lying on his back to half-sitting with minimal help, summoning a tiny gust of air behind him. The breeze gave him slight leverage—just enough to inch up.
[Notification: Minor Air Channeling → Lv.3. Efficiency Improved!]
A quick wave of accomplishment filled him, though it came with a precarious wobble. He squealed as he nearly toppled forward, but Mother's watchful gaze caught him in time.
"Trying to sit up already, are we?" she teased. "Slow down, little one."
Kael beamed with the only expression an infant could manage: bright eyes and a gurgling grin. If he kept building micro skill uses, perhaps by the time he reached the age for the Awakening Ceremony, he would have a repertoire of synergy-based spells masked as simple child's play.
He pictured the day he would enroll in Astraeus Academy, likely around age eleven or twelve—still some years off. That was the place he would truly begin bridging his old self with the world's new developments. The ephemeral spark in his chest urged him onward. Hidden behind wide baby eyes was the determination of a reincarnated grand magus.
Evening Reflections
The day wore on with a calm monotony—Kael's favorite time to refine intangible skills. Father eventually returned, smelling of sunbaked roads and carrying new coin from a small sale. Over a shared supper of vegetable broth and crusty bread, the family relaxed. Kael remained quiet in a woven basket chair near them, listening raptly to the adults' conversation.
"Eliana," Father said between bites, "I heard from one of the farmers that odd footprints were spotted near the eastern orchard. Could be just a stray boar, but folks are spooked. They say the beasts in the hills are acting strangely."
Mother frowned. "Are the roads safe enough for traveling? We rely on Merrek's visits for supplies."
Father shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Hard to say. I might fortify the fence around our yard, just in case. And I'll keep forging extra tools for folks in the village—maybe we can keep them safe if anything wild shows up."
Kael listened, a swirl of memories rising of demon raids and monstrous hordes from centuries past. These were humble concerns by that standard, yet they served as a reminder that Aurelia remained rife with threats. If small villages faced beast trouble, how dire might the larger kingdoms' issues be?
His father's protective stance around the village—making tools, reinforcing fences—echoed Aerion's old vow to defend the weak. A pang of guilt mingled with admiration. In time, Kael would far surpass what a local blacksmith could do, but for now, Father's simple efforts were a testament to genuine compassion.
After the meal, night settled in again. Kael drifted in and out of a light doze, lulled by his parents' voices and the crackling hearth. Dreams teased him with grand illusions of swirling mana, complex runic arrays, and the silhouette of a looming threat on the horizon. Yet each time, he awoke to the gentle softness of a warm home, Mother's caring arms, and Father's steady presence.
A Step at a Time
At the cusp of midnight, Kael awoke from a particularly vivid dream—fragmented images of a silver-haired archmage and a colossal demon. Recollections of his past life, no doubt. He forced a slow, measured breath, steadying his racing mind. The darkness of the small home was broken only by embers glowing faintly in the hearth.
He was alone in the main room now, parents presumably sleeping in the adjoining area. Sensing no immediate danger, he resumed the gentle cycling of mana inside his core—faint, unawakened but brimming with potential. That discipline calmed him, like an old mantra: Embrace knowledge, but proceed with caution; hold power, but never misuse it.
A silent vow took shape: he would shield this place from the shadows his memories foretold. Whether beasts in the orchard or more nefarious threats that might someday reach the village, Kael resolved to be ready. This second life was a precious gift, and he would safeguard it.
In the hush of midnight, he repeated this vow, slowly letting sleep reclaim him.
The Cycle Continues
Morning returned, and with it, the comforting rituals of daily life. Father lit the forge once more, hammering out another set of custom hooks requested by a neighbor. Mother prepared a pot of porridge, humming as she passed near Kael's cradle. The village's day began in much the same manner as any other: roosters crowed, villagers bustled about chores, the same dirt path stretched onward under the gentle sun. Yet within Kael's quiet existence, each day brimmed with incremental growth.
He tested the new skill repeatedly. When a stray wisp of smoke drifted from the forge, he directed a gentle swirl of air to waft it away from his face. Sometimes Father or Mother might notice the odd puff of breeze swirling unnaturally, but they dismissed it as a quirk of the forge's ventilation. Kael concealed his grin behind an innocent baby expression.
[Notification: Minor Air Channeling → Lv.4. Efficiency Improved!]
At this rate, he mused, he'd soon refine the skill enough to handle tasks that would typically require a half-trained elemental mage. By the time he walked, perhaps he'd harness stable gusts that could rival a novice wind adept. And that was only the beginning.
Father paused to inspect a newly hammered hook, carefully eyeing its shape. Then he placed it in a bucket of water, sending steam into the air. Kael, perched in a small seat, observed intently, letting the fleeting swirl of steam brush against his open palm. Heat and moisture combined—elemental Fire and Water coexisting in a brief dance. Another puzzle to unravel in time.
As the forge hissed softly, and the day wore on, Kael's mind remained a swirl of determination. The lull of village life wouldn't last forever. Forces beyond this hamlet's borders might stir. Yet for now, these precious months of infancy offered a sanctuary for him to build a hidden arsenal of skill.
He had been Aerion, the legendary magus, but now he was Kael Ashborne.Every soft breath, every hammered strike, every swirl of mana was an unspoken promise that he would emerge stronger than before—quietly, patiently, and ready to defend this simple life and beyond.
In that vow lay the spirit of his reincarnation: forging a new path from infancy, step by step, skill by skill, unburdened by old regrets but fueled by the memory of them. A future of challenges awaited, but he would face it on his own terms, sheltered by the warmth of family and guided by the steady flame of a blacksmith's forge.
Thus ended another day in the life of Kael Ashborne, still an unassuming infant to all who saw him—but already walking the silent road to mastery, one breath at a time.