There was music, something the likes of which I had never heard before. It sounded like a methodical ring caused by raindrops pattering on glass. Did my phone update and change my alarm? I thought as I groggily, absently, patted at the… nothing beside me. Why was there nothing? Wasn’t I in bed? Where was my blanket?
I opened my eyes slowly, blinking away the exhaustion of my abrupt awakening. My sleepiness faded quickly, as I gazed upon the unending white permeating around me. The calm, unrecognizable music filled my ears, seemingly sourceless. I wondered if this was a strange dream. After a lifetime of nightmares and vivid dreaming, it seemed plausible. But, I could feel myself even if nothing around me felt like… anything.
It felt like I was untethered by gravity. The world around me was just… blank, white, stark brightness. And… I was naked.
“Aha! You’re awake! Finally.” A voice, as ambiguous as my surroundings, echoed around me. I tried to reply but found my voice… unable to escape my throat. “Right, before you ask any of those burning questions you pesky mortals always have, allow me to explain the situation.”
I nodded, unable to do anything else. Immediately after, I saw the individual who was speaking to me start to seamlessly materialize before me. They were… for lack of better words, formless. Like, they were clearly humanoid but with no distinguishable features. Almost like a mannequin. Their body was constantly shifting between someone lithe and small to someone bulky and strong, from male to female, child to adult. It took seeing this to understand why their voice was featureless. Non gendered, not unique aside from the fact that it was indistinguishable, just like their body. The voice changed and shifted with each other word, but it didn’t seem so abrupt, as seamless as their apparition.
“Okay, first things first, my name is Miamora. I am among a number of other gods who have been given the duty to find the appropriate afterlife for your kin, the humans of your Earth. I suppose that leads to the next thing, you have died. You are no more. I know I know, so sad, so tragic, whatever.” The god spoke callous cold words, waiting a moment as they washed over me. Letting them sink in before continuing.
I'm dead, huh? I guess that makes sense. I thought to myself, making my naked body sit up so I wasn’t just laying and watching the god.
“You had lived a relatively mundane, innocuous life. Peaceful, no grand achievements, balancing out good and bad actions. You were not particularly evil, nor were you particularly good. At least, up until your death. This was a memory I was forced to remove for you and no, I cannot tell you how you died. For some reason, the memory of it is capable of driving you mortals insane so us gods of the afterlife have agreed to erase them entirely such that your soul does not become corrupted. But, thanks to this forsaken memory and the implications of your death, you are eligible to choose your next step. I will list all of your options, give you a few moments to decide, then let you experience your afterlife.
“Option number one – oh and these will be in order of my preference – you can volunteer to serve penance in hell for a number of years then reevaluate your options. Mind you, you weren’t quite evil enough to be sent there directly so the number of years you spend there is entirely up to you. Option two, you stick around purgatory for a while. Until your soul is naturally reborn rather than magically. You will eventually reincarnate but you’ll be stuck here, in the endless white with nothing but your own thoughts. For some, this is a worse punishment than hell itself. Option three, you are reincarnated with no memories back to your old world. And last option, you are reincarnated into a different world with different rules, most of your memories intact. You may not choose this world, though I can take some requests into consideration. The memories you’ll lose are things that could otherwise harm the world you’ll arrive in. You’ll keep all personal memories; you’ll still understand most of what you had learned in math and reading and such. You’ll remember the stories from your last life. But taken from you will be how cars work, planes, bombs, guns. How physics works on a larger scale, your understanding of chemistry. You get the idea. Now, any questions, Isaac Duran?”
The god stopped speaking, angling their face towards me in anticipation. I was both overwhelmed and overwhelmingly shocked by the deluge of information. “May I have a few moments to think about what you’ve said?” I looked up at the god, my fingers tapping my leg with nervous energy.
The god simply nodded but kept staring at me.
Okay… lets think about this. Firstly, gods are real… they exist. While not an atheist, I had always been agnostic, and fairly vocal about the harm that religion was continuously bringing to the world.
I can think about that later. For now… there are more pertinent things to cover. I’m dead. I died. I felt a pang of sadness, my unbeating heart impaled with emotion. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I was wondering about my brothers, parents, friends, and my girlfriend. How did they all fair? Had they already found out that I died? Were they planning my funeral, preparing to spread my ashes as I had always wished? Who was taking care of my dogs? Either way… I supposed pondering it didn’t change anything. They would either be okay or they wouldn’t.
Right. Let's think on the matter at hand. Back to earth, or some mystery world. Already the first two options were… not truly options, not the sort of things that I could ever see myself wanting. If I were to go back to earth would I even be me? Probably not. I want to stay as myself, perhaps that’s the humanity in me. Only one real option then.
“Uhm, I'm sorry, Miamora, could I make two requests?” I asked the god, fairly timidly. My voice was shaking. I didn’t necessarily feel anything from the strange figure, no aura cascading down on me or malice in its actions, but there was something deeply unsettling about them.
“Hmm. I suppose if it is within my power to grant.” Miamora taps their chin, their lips twisting into a grin on their featureless face.
“Can you make me human, or at least humanoid again? And for the second, uhm, could you send me to a world that contains magic?” I felt a bit greedy with my second request.
The grin, toothy and strange, reshapes slightly, growing wider, literally reaching their ears. Or where their ears should be. It reminded me of the symbiotes from Marvel comic books. What were initially human-like teeth fell out, vanishing as they were replaced with jagged sharp knifelike teeth, their mouth twisting to accept the new shape. “So, you would like to be reincarnated with some memories intact? Both requests are doable, now if you don’t mind, I must get going. Enjoy your new life. I do hope I don’t see you here again for quite some time.” They snapped their fingers as they cackled slightly, the once jovial and callous voice turning into something crueller. Slightly nightmarish. As the resonance of the snap fades the world around me shifted from endless white to a limitless black. “Good luck, and remember, all choices have their consequence.”
That wasn’t the least bit ominous.
There wasn’t much to do in this darkness. In fact I couldn’t even really move, all I could do was think. Imagine. Sleep. Occasionally, after the first eternity, I could hear some warbled sounds. Warped voices, maybe? Oftentimes I could feel myself shifting, bouncing, shaking. After much too long I came to the realization that I was a fetus, stuck in a womb. It made sense, though I was shocked that I was coherent during the process. It was a strange realization, to know that I was inside of some woman's womb. That I was going to be born again, and have to live through my childhood again. Perhaps this time I wouldn’t make so many mistakes, maybe I'd have more confidence in myself. More friends.
Despite the strangeness, it was a good time to think. To plan out what I want to do. In my past life I was a blue collar worker turned into an engineer, I had died in my twenties. I knew that even after I was able to speak I should probably keep my reincarnation a secret even from those close to me. I also knew that so long as the god had been honest, I would want to learn magic. Maybe become an adventurer of some kind if that were a possibility. I would definitely be interested in dabbling with swordplay, blacksmithing, and other professions whenever possible but my focus would likely fall on magic and enchanting. I mean, why would I not focus on launching lightning bolts and turning mundane gear into magical mythical artifacts? Maybe I could find a way to fly, not like in a plane but under my own strength. I could conjure beasts, increase the growth of plants, create a space of my own. So many possibilities. So many fantasies.
I could finally do something meaningful, if only I had the power. I knew it would take effort, but I also realized that with my youthful brain I'd be able to form better habits right away. Hopefully.
Before too long, a few months I’d guess, I felt my body being pushed and squeezed. Pushed and pulled, it hurt. The worst pain I’d felt even in my past life. I whimpered as finally I saw light. Blaring light. It blinded me, and the sound of screaming ravaged my ears. I started crying… wait I had already been crying. Screaming. The sound was me. I felt someone wiping me down with a cloth, somewhat rough. I was turned towards a smiling face as the person holding me wrapped me in a towel, handing me to a beaming woman. She held me up, looking elated and exhausted. Behind me a bright yellow light shone and I heard the woman holding me sigh in relief. I looked back toward the light, seeing only bloody sheets and a woman dressed in bloody white beginning to clean up. It took a moment for me to realize she was likely the nurse or doctor who helped my mother give birth. I guess that made the woman holding me my mother.
I turned my focus back to her, I tried to speak but it came out as a garbled mess. Made sense. She turned to talk to a man who was standing, looking terrified and excited, to the side of the bed. My mother was beautiful, even sweaty and covered in just a sheet. Even bloody and exhausted. She had piercing green eyes and dark red hair. Her smile was radiant. She was speaking to the man as she pulled me close, cuddling me, cradling me. The words they were saying sounded akin to gibberish to me. Must be a different language to English, I supposed that made sense. I turned my head to observe my dad.
He was tall. Perhaps because I was tiny, but he looked larger than average. He was well built too, muscular. Dressed in a simple tunic. He was handsome, blue eyes and brown hair. He had a huge smile plastered on his face as my mother held me up to him, he looked scared as he held me but elated also. He was saying something to me. His lip quivered as tears streaked down his face. My mother was giggling at him, as she laid back down and closed her eyes. My father sat back down, cradling me in his arms.
I watched them both steadily, noticing the doctors or healers or whatever were all gone now. I forced myself to stop crying. To stop screaming. Instead I pushed out some happy babbling and gave out a giggle, rousing my dozing mother as she exclaimed excitedly. My father looked so happy, like he was melting. I suppose I must've been their first child, it would probably be easy to get what I wanted in the future if I had to.
My life went by quickly. The years seemed both long and short, only long due to the lack of entertainment. This world did not have any sort of technology, and plays in my smallish town were rather scarce. Even still, despite the lack of entertainment, I was able to make my own. I made a few friends although I found it slightly exhausting to deal with them, given the difference in our maturity levels. Granted, I still had the mind of a six year old despite the over twenty years I had lived before.
My time thus far was primarily spent learning, playing, doing chores, and sleeping. I started helping with minor chores a couple years ago, after I turned four. My parents still didn’t let me do too much but even so, I tried to help where I could. I'd help with the dishes, and help my mother with the laundry, primarily just folding dried clothes after she had washed them on the washboard by the river. Sometimes, she'd have me sweep the inside of the house or make the beds. Nothing overly difficult.
“Lios, come help me with supper.” I heard my mother Elaine call out to me from inside of our quaint house. It consisted of one dedicated bedroom, a small living space, a kitchen, and a space for a dining table. Outside, behind the house, we had an outhouse to do our business in. My bed, after I turned five, was in the lounge room. Previously I had stayed in the bedroom with my parents but evidently, the insomnia from my previous life carried over to this one. My parents had grown tired of waking to my restlessness a few times a week. I think that was only part of the reason. My parents were actively practicing for another child, they probably didn’t think I knew what those sounds were but, unfortunately, I did.
My full name was Alexilios. As we were peasants and non-nobles we were not granted a surname, only a first. My mother was a seamstress, a tailor. My father was a guard, prior to meeting my mother he was an adventurer.
I rushed toward the door from the front of our house. I had been playing with a stick, treating it like a sword. Some things seemed to transcend worlds, and kids playing hero was one of them. I hastily scraped the dirt from the bottom of my boots on a post set up just outside of the door. My mother had previously protested allowing me to help in the kitchen, for a few reasons. One, knives were dangerous. Two, it was not a place for men. But truthfully, despite the misogyny at work I had been insistent, claiming it would be necessary for me to learn to cook so I could take care of myself should I go on adventures like my father. She had pursed her lips at that statement before relenting, allowing me to help. That reason was true enough, but the other was that I wanted to move away from the bland food I was constantly eating. It had some flavor, but in my past life seasonings were available in abundance, whereas here most of them were treated as a luxury. My mother would still not allow me to use the herbs in the garden or seasonings as I wished, saying the herbs she kept were reserved for medicine. It was one of the ways my mother made money, as tailors were not uncommon even in our small town. After all, everyone needed clothes. She sold the herbs to a local alchemist semi regularly, whenever they were ready.
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
I burst into the kitchen excitedly. As it was my birthday, mother was making a hearty stew using extra ingredients. We weren’t particularly poor, but we were not wealthy either. My father made around 15 silvers a month, and my mother made maybe 5. 20 silver may not sound like much, but it was roughly the equivalent of $2500 dollars from my past life. Not a huge amount, but for people living simply without extraneous bills and expenses such as tv, phone bills, car bills and so on, it was quite enough to live comfortably but not necessarily enough for spices and other ingredients to be frequently used. Most of our meals were similar to todays, but with less meat.
I stood on a step stool, grinning as my mother had already prepped my work station. She had a small knife and a stack of vegetables on the counter ready for me. She would occasionally let me cut veggies and it seemed today was one such occasion. Before me were some carrots, two onions, and some potatoes. My mother was seasoning the beef roast she had acquired earlier. I started cutting them, a bit clumsily but still making fairly even cubes of the vegetables. I listened contentedly to my mothers humming, ignoring the tears flowing down my cheeks while cutting the onions. I was still a bit miffed that she wouldn’t let me try cooking with her herbs, but I suppose I could try that later in life when I became an adventurer.
It didn't take long for me to finish cutting the vegetables. As soon as I was done, my mother threw them into the dutch oven as she gingerly placed the seared beef in as well, along with a few other ingredients I didn’t recognize. I looked up at my mother with puppy dog eyes, pleading with her. “Can I go and play with Bri?”
Bri was a fox that I had found around a year ago. It was injured, just a baby. I had convinced my parents to help me to help her. To take care of her. It wound up with me begging them and them reluctantly agreeing. Her name, Bri, was really Brioche. A type of bread from my original world. She was not domesticated or tamed by any means, but she still let me play with and pet her. Even in all of our times playing, she hadn’t hurt me despite having razor sharp teeth and claws.
“Fine, but I swear to the gods above, if you are late for supper I will make you do all of the chores in this house on your own. For a whole month, understood mister?” She had on her face a slight smirk, but her tone was deadly serious.
“Yes mother I understand!” I called out as I swiftly departed our dwelling. I remembered to grab some of the meat scraps my mother had trimmed from the roast. I sprinted towards Brioche’s den, ducking under tree branches and leaping over fallen sticks as fast as I could. I knew supper would be in only a few hours, four or so. Before long I made my way to where I knew the red foxes den would be. I sat with my back against a log as I called out, “Bri-Bri.” And whistling softly, not trying to garner the attention of the stronger beasts that also called this forest a home.
While I waited for her I pondered how to approach the topic on my mind with my parents. I wanted to ask them for some additional teachings, to help me realize my dream of being an adventurer or at least some kind of wandering mage. I wanted my dad to teach me swordplay, and mother to teach me to read and write. Normally, I'd be going to school at this age, but this world was different. Schools weren’t commonplace, and there were no schools sponsored entirely by the government. Each kingdom had an academy of sorts, but students could only attend after the age of ten, after they gained access to the system, and it required a hefty lump sum to even attend. Not the sort of thing we could afford. Not that I wanted to attend school anyway, in my past life I had been an awful student.
My thinking was disrupted as I heard the rustling of bushes as Brioche wandered out towards me. She yipped and bounded in my direction, quickly curling in my lap. She sniffed my hand as I pulled the scraps out and held it out to her. I pet her with my other hand as the wild animal fed from my palm, giggling a little bit. It never got old. I had always loved animals, and it was nice to have one I could play with. She scarfed down the meat, before gently licking my hand clean of the juices. After she was done, she gave my hand a small nip before backing away, indicating she wanted to play. My father always warned me to be careful of her, she was a wild animal after all, and animals were granted access to the system far earlier than human children were.
The system was what allowed people to grow so far. It was some sort of interface that people could use to enhance themselves. People were granted access to the system when they reached their tenth birthday. Until then, children were just children. Even once they received access they started at level one, gaining some experience for their actions and achievements prior to that age, and didn’t gain a class until they reached level ten. But monsters always had access to the system, though it worked differently for them, they could evolve and gain wonderous abilities but only if they met the appropriate qualifications. So I had to take extra care when playing with Brioche. More than I would take otherwise.
Even still, I got on all fours and playfully growled at the small red fox. She let out a small laughing growl before pouncing towards me, her tail flicking through the air. I caught her gently pushing her to the ground and tickled her, as she nipped at my hands. Her piercing teeth did not penetrate my skin but still hurt. I backed off and batted at her as she started dancing around me, yipping and barking.
We played like this, on the ground, until both of us were out of breath. By this time I looked up toward the sun, and scolded myself. The sun had passed the horizon of treetops, so I knew it was nearly time for supper. I stood up, looking down as my furry friend yelped for more attention, but all I could do was give her a farewell pat on the head and a few extra scritches.
“I know I know, I'll come back as soon as I can, okay?” I wished I could take her as a regular pet but that wouldn’t be possible with my parents.
I sprinted through the woods, leaving her behind. As I ran, I thought again about my future, it was unfortunate that many of my traits carried over between lives and one of them was my indecisiveness. I still had lofty goals, but it flickered from being an enchanter, a beast tamer, and a magic warrior. As far as I knew there wasn’t an individual class that did all these things, least of all at such an early level, so I'd likely have to wait until my second class at level 50. I would have to take things a step at a time, I knew I had to wait until level 10. I also knew, from what my parents had taught me so far about general skills, that there was a skill for beast taming. It wasn’t quite as strong as a class skill devoted to the same thing, but it wouldn’t impede my first class, which I wanted to be devoted to combat. There were also at least a few general skills that were helpful for enchanting, so I didn’t have to devote myself to an enchanting class right away. Between the [sigaldry], [runesmithing], [runic etching], and other skills, I would have options. On top of a second class, there was also the possibility of hitting a third although it was extremely rare and confirmation on it was varied. Each class would come with 10 unique skills. I would at least need one skill that allowed me to manipulate mana in order to use magic.
I broke free of the forest, dirty and panting and sweaty. Looking up I saw the sun behind some clouds, a few hours from setting. Around six pm if I was in the old world. I rushed to the well behind our home, pulling the bucket and splashing some water over myself with a somewhat dirty cloth, cleaning off most of the dirt. Then, not slowing down I rushed toward the front door and slammed it open just as mother was plating the stew and bread.
“Cutting it rather close, aye boy?” My father laughs as I step inside, not forgetting to scrape my boots free of dirt first.
“So he made it after all.” My mother sighed and passed a couple of pieces of copper to my father. They often would place bets about rather mundane things.
I stuck my tongue out at her knowing she was hoping she could stick me with more chores for the next month. “What, disappointed I listened?”
She shrugged and plated us each some food, a healthy helping of stew, some chopped apples-they were in season-, and a thick slice of fresh baked fluffy bread.
“Wooow it looks so good!” I practically salivated as she placed the plate before me, and I plopped down in my chair eagerly. The food really did look delicious, not quite up to par with some meals from my old life but that was okay.
“Did anything exciting happen today at work Father?” I ask before blowing on a forkful of stew and chomping it down. “Hashhyshashyshahs.” I blew through my mouth trying to cool down the scalding meat as it burned my tongue.
My father, being a guard, had far more responsibilities in our small town than a guard in a larger city might have. We had no adventurer’s guild in town so the guards were often in charge of pushing back or slaying any monsters or ravenous beasts in the area, on top of dealing with the criminals in town as well. Of course, they could only handle so much and if there was a threat outside of their purview they could outsource to one of the guilds in the cities. Most days were, thankfully, boring for him, but he had his fair share of tales to weave.
“Lios, it just got pulled from the pot, it's hot!” My mother scolded me with a hint of amusement. Fortunately, my father made the same mistake, taking a large hot bite of potato as he tried to still consume it instead of spitting it out. My mother smacks his arm lightly, endearingly.
“No, today was slow. Although, remember that boy Regulus?” Father slowly blew on the next bite, not wanting to burn himself again.
“Vaguely,” Came my reply through a mouthful of bread.
“He was apparently accepted as a squire for a knight of Lord Barrinston.”
“Oh, that’s nice. I'm sure his papa is thrilled.”
“He sure is, Lios! Wouldn’t stop talking about it.” My father spoke through a full mouth, beaming.
I sat quietly for a few minutes, eating slowly, careful not to scald my tongue further. I was a bit nervous, there was something I'd been wanting to request from my parents, but I was unsure if they'd even take it seriously considering I was only six years old. I struggled to work up the nerve to ask, my mom and dad making idle talk, my mother talking about how she just finished fixing a cute dress for one of the girls my age across town, my father still talking about Regulus the squire.
Finally, as my plate dwindled and my tummy filled, I spoke up. “Uhm… ma, pa? there was something I wanted to ask you… well request of you both.” I couldn’t help but stammer a bit, orating was never something I was good at. I waited as they both turned their attention to me, squirming under their gaze.
My father nodded and slowly spoke, “Go ahead son.”
“I was wondering if, father, you could teach me how to fight with a sword… possibly other weapons as well.” I looked him in the eyes, hoping he’d see my conviction. I saw him working his jaw wondering what to say but before he could respond I looked at my mother, certain that even if father refused his request she would not. “And if maybe you could teach me to read and to write soon. Oh, and one more thing, though this one is probably less immediate,” While I had learned to read and write in my past life, the language here was vastly different. Even so I was keenly aware of how much more maturely I spoke than the others my age. This was part of why I had few friends, though I wasn’t really picked on either, just drifting as an outlier. If this was my old world I'd be attending school at this age, but unfortunately schools weren’t a big thing here. “But if after you teach me to read you could get me a book on uhm runes. Or a couple as I know there are a few different runic languages, right? But I can find a way to pay for it! I'll do extra chores or even sweep the guards barracks for coin if needed.” I looked between them both hesitantly, the thin confidence that developed during my request fading, leading to me trailing off.
I sat in a trepidatious silence, watching as my parents exchanged a look, both thinking of what they should say. My father started first, slowly speaking but not with any condescension. He was speaking to me like I was an adult, rather than his young, not even adolescent son. “Why do you wish for me to teach you to wield a sword and other weapons?”
I looked him in the eyes, steeling myself. The real reason was not something I felt I could share just yet. The fact that in my past life I had not amounted to much. I had been a disappointing son, a half assed engineer, and an overweight gamer with lofty ideals and without the means to accomplish them. I had thought a lot about what I'd like to do in this life, and I had a plan. I was uncertain if it was even possible but I'd be damned if I wasted another life, another chance. The first few steps to my first goal were at least achievable before I gained levels and the system; I would learn to fight, and I could learn at least the fundamentals of enchanting. From what my parents had told me thus far, an individual could do almost anything the system would allow should they have the requisite knowledge to do so. This meant that even without a skill I could read runes, write them, infuse them with mana and enchant things, but having skills related to this would only help. There were of course certain skills that would only be possible with the systems help, but a majority of things were possible without.
“I want to be an adventurer. Like the ones in your stories, who save people and fight monsters. Who helps when they’re needed and are able to protect the ones they love.” I say sincerely.
My parents looked at me, blinked, then burst into laughter. My father in particular looked extremely amused. While I felt self-conscious, their laughing helped to break the awkward tension I was feeling. “Well, Elaine, I think the boy is quite serious about this. What do you think?”
“Hmm… he certainly does seem to be sure about this.” She twirled her red hair with her fingers, something she often did while thinking. “I don’t suppose there's any real harm in you training Lios. Just don’t go too hard on him, he is just a boy.”
“Nonsense. If I train you it'll be very difficult. It will put a strain on you, you will feel it from day one. And if you want to quit you may do so at any time, but you won't have another opportunity to have me teach you. Understood, Lios?” My fathers tone went from jovial to serious rather quickly. He looked me in the eyes, holding my gaze as he warned me how difficult my training could be. He had a very dedicated mindset, firmly believing that people should give their all to whatever they wanted to do. There was no fifty percent effort, only one hundred.
“Yes father, I understand.”
“Good. About the book on runes, that may be difficult to find here. Our town isn’t the largest, nor do we have a market for magical texts. But it should be possible if we wait long enough. The books won't be overly expensive but I'm sure your mother wouldn’t mind you picking up additional chores either way.”
I nod my affirmation. “So, then, you'll train me?”
“Yes. Now I must go prepare a few things, but I will wake you early tomorrow. I’ll tell you your schedule then.” My father passed his plate to me and stood up, having cleaned it of everything including the gravy by soaking it with the bread.
My mother stood up and did the same. “I’ll see about finding a book or two and some paper and ink. Since it's so late you may have to use charcoal instead of a quill tomorrow but that shouldn’t last overlong.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!!” I said exuberantly as I rushed to wrap them both in a hug, truthfully only reaching their bellies. I may have been more mature than the average six-year-old but I still had the mind of a child. Despite having lived an extra twenty-six years I could not escape the fact that my brain, my hormones, my body all belonged to a six-year-old. This meant I had more energy and was much less disciplined in handling my emotions. Or at least thats what I told myself whenever I acted like a kid.
They both hugged me back before departing to do their shopping, my father chuckling and tussling my hair. “You may not be thanking me tomorrow, ya know.”
I spent the next few minutes gathering and cleaning all the dishes used for dinner. I then cleaned up and tidied the house. In my past life I was a bit of a slob, and that was a trait I definitely didn’t want to carry over to this one. Afterward, knowing it was to be a long and early day tomorrow, I made my way to bed. I was already fast asleep before my parents returned.