Shockingly, I didn’t truly sleep that night. Nor any night that passed thereafter.

Instead, I spent roughly four hours just… laying there. My eyes were half-closed whilst I lay there in a dreamlike state. Still aware of all that went on around me.

Up until the moment I had a dream.

A dream of an ethereal black mist that occluded a night sky just enough to allow the light of a fantastical nebula to shine through. Resulting in a vibrant sky-scape of violet hues and star clusters of varying colors for as far as the mist allowed one to see.

As the days grew to weeks and then the months approached a year, the dreams continued each night like an astral play. The mist or dust or whatever substance it was that blocked or absorbed the light from beyond became less and less occluded, yet didn’t disappear entirely. It only condensed and took form into a shape that could be described as nothing less than a dragon. Though not one in the traditional sense. No vibrant scales, no horns or ferocious teeth. Just an indomitable blackness personified into what I assume to be the most powerful entity in this universe.

Or one of them, at least.

With a few months of age under my belt, the dreams started playing backward before eventually repeating without end. Once they did, I did my best to put them out of my mind and directed my attention toward more practical matters. Namely, the world around me.

Though that in itself was more akin to a well. As my reintroduction to the land of the living was about as standard as my first time through.

The entirety of my time consisted of napping, eating, and shitting myself while my parents constantly talked to me in their native tongues. With me already being fluent in English; or Common as it was called here, the ‘conversations’ with my father were more like torture sessions where I was forced to endure hours of coos and baby noises from what I assumed to be a politically powerful man.

Regrettably, watching his frustrations steadily grow from my blank stares eventually forced a few giggles out of me that immediately probed him into continuing for hours on end each day.

Torture.

The sessions with my mother, however, were far more interesting.

Even more so were the benefits of having the Eternal Eye tuned in the way I did. Every word spoken by my mother was retained and compartmentalized into my mind to be later withdrawn and tediously studied or practiced. Still not being fluent, however, I bided my immense spare time by applying the Eye in perusing through any number of the scrolls, books, busts, or paintings that I’d seen in passing as well.

Through them, I learned we were most likely in a place called Odissi, which itself was either next to or a part of a place called Deapou. Though, there were no maps that’d give me any indication of where in this world we were, there were paintings depicting tales of how the land came to be. Of a harsh land of snow, ice, and monsters on some northern isle that’d been culled of hostilities and cultivated to its current state by two great Mages. The 'Iron Magus' and the 'Necro King.'

Two more data points to latch on to in my infancy.

Within just a few more weeks I was fluent enough to learn that what my mother had said to me on the day of my birth was- “We shall call you, Amun.” In Formal Elvish. An ancient drow name; according to her, with no surname. As is their custom.

It was around that time that I noticed the ‘mark’ my father spoke of after my birth. Just above my diaphragm was a fuckin’ huge birthmark; if I could even call it that. Composed of a thick, wrist-sized line that stretched from my naval to my sternum and branched out at the top into a semicircle that bordered my belly. Filled with squiggles or lines that resembled the waving branches of a leafless willow tree.

Strange and exotic, but noted all the same as the other data points.

Within a few more weeks I was fully fluent in the language and began paying more attention to my mother's words as she spoke them, though I still couldn’t speak them myself. At that time, however, I noticed that, unlike my father, my mother actually spoke to me like an intelligent person. Well, she mostly told stories; but after I was fluent enough to understand them, they became the highlight of my evenings.

They were stories about the past; mostly. Of how the different races lived on their own planes within the system; unknowing of each others’ existence before the opening of magical portals 1,475 years ago. Allowing the denizens of each world to travel freely between worlds with the added effect of an increase in the density of mana across the system. She told of how the eastern lands became a warzone from the invading denizens of the demon, orc, beast, and ice worlds. Of the loss of entire continents and of the ensuing twelve-hundred-year war. Of how, after more than a millennium of fighting, the Elves came to the aid of humans with knowledge of how to receive higher forms of magical abilities, and how Emperor Deapou and the Necro King brought peace to these lands. Thus bringing about the current era of peace and restoration.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

All but confirming the hypotheses of my birthplace.

I listened with great interest, learning all that I could about the history of this new world and more importantly, about the other worlds within the system. But not of her home world, strangely.

I listened until her stories ended and the long sessions of nuzzling and cuddling and calling me her little ‘Elfling’ began. Sessions that I’d spend pondering everything Telin told me before my rebirth.

Sessions that I grew more accustomed to before I knew it.

By six months of age, I had an answer for a few questions burning within my mind.

It took no time to deduce that Telin was neither a benevolent nor an omniscient God in this universe. As he said, he doesn’t even govern it. He’s simply the source of the Mana within it. And the cause of the portals spontaneously appearing. In turn, that meant I most likely would never hear from him again. At least until I left this universe. Which was fine by me. More than that, it was a glorious feeling. Yet Telin’s warning still remained sharply in my mind.

I’d be given everything, sure. But everything could and most likely would be taken away at some point. The only question was when. And not knowing the answer meant doing all I could to be prepared for what was to come. I needed subordinates to act in my stead, and they needed to be trained exceptionally well. And more than that, I needed money. Or something else to pay my subordinates with.

With that, the only other questions left in my mind were questions about magic and world history. The real history. Not a family tale that'd most likely been washed out and changed over time. Questions that would obviously have to wait until I was older until they were answered.

As for magic, It took weeks of studying; of feeling the energy around and within me to gather that it was comparable to dark energy in the fact that it existed everywhere. In each pocket of three-Dimensional space, mana was present. Though that’s as far as the similarities went. Unlike dark energy, mana wasn’t uniformly distributed throughout space. Even in the small confines of my home, I could feel various regions; various rooms, with lower concentrations of mana than others. Like the blue, gaseous energy I’d seen before at some times, almost like an ethereal layer of water surrounding me at others. And obviously, mana wasn't responsible for the acceleration of the universe’s expansion. As far as I understood, it was like the ‘muscle’ between willing or wishing something to happen and it spontaneously happening. An energy source to produce illogical results.

Though that was nothing more than an uneducated guess based on sheer ignorance. So, not worth much merit.

By one year I was able to not only fluently speak Baby, but move about on my own; be it crawling or walking around for a few seconds at a time. Conversations improved with my father by leaps and bounds after that. At any time he was around, I could crawl or hobble over to any picture or art piece, or strange thing that I saw and he’d give a description or story about it. A grossly vague description. But a description nonetheless.

My questions mostly revolved around how things worked around the relatively expansive grounds of my nursery. A four-roomed wing consisting of the bedroom I was born in with an adjacent baby bathroom for myself, a small kitchenette, and then a proper washroom for my mother to use. Each of the halls and rooms was warmed from the perpetually flickering fires in the fireplaces, cackling away without a trace of wood or gas. Only an intricately cut diamond could be seen at the base; glowing a soft amber color. These jewels; fashioned with strange carvings that I assumed were runes of some sort, were used and placed everywhere. Over and under pots and pans or in my bathwater to heat or cool or even fill them.

I pointed to everything, and each time I did, he’d pick me up and bring my face close to the innocuous device or plate or cube of the same diamond-like material and point out the intricate runes on the device before giving a painfully simple smile and exclaiming. “Enchantments!”

Ugh.

Regardless, it was a new data point to latch onto and study every time I got a chance. Sprouting a new obsession to occupy my mind; along with the other facets of my intrigue. Yet, nothing notable happened after that. I continued wandering around the confines of my little house in my free time, observing the ambient mana and many enchantments around me while trying to get attuned to living in the body of a half-elf toddler by virtue of eating, shitting, and sleeping as much as I could.

The body felt surprisingly human. A bit lighter I supposed, but otherwise no different from what I could feel. Save for the fact that I had pointy ears and became quite irritable in bright light.

At around two years I was moving about on solely my feet. But I'd long since grown bored of the confines of my tiny house; which felt more like a prison than anything else.

I was almost at my limit my father suddenly entered, approaching me with a beaming smile as always. But before I can speak or make a sound, he knelt down to place his hands on my shoulder.

“Amun,” He said. Gently shaking me as he spoke to me seriously for the first time. “In a few years' time, many things will begin to change for you. You will begin to feel power within yourself. You will begin to see things. You will learn of your heritage, of your status, of your Class. And you will begin to take lessons in how to act according to your station. You’ll meet many new people: The tenders of the estate, your servant, and more importantly, your great-grandfather. He is a great and powerful man in terms of both magic and political authority. And he will be coming to teach you the basics of magic and of the changes you’re about to go through. Do you understand?”

Regrettably, I couldn’t hide my excitement and grinned wide at him before nodding silently. And I didn’t even blame myself.

Ever since I was born, I’ve been thinking about trying to use the blue fluid swirling amok inside myself; to give myself some trial runs.

In truth, the only thing stopping me was the lack of solitude; I could only imagine my parents' reactions at seeing an infant whipping around spells, or worse, being the center of an inadvertent massacre. Half-elf or not, I didn’t see it ending well.

“I know you’re capable of great things, Amun.” He brought me in for a hug after a moment. “I love you.”