There was a boy named Theodore, his hair white as snow and his eyes big, round, and clear blue. He was an orphan, his parents unknown. Abandoned on the doorsteps of a temple one fateful night, he was adopted by a pair of clergywomen and was later joined by other children who had similarly lost their homes.

Theodore was a healthy boy, strong in body and sharp in mind. However, Theodore had a problem. He couldn't pinpoint when exactly when it had happened. It was such a gradual and unnoticeable thing that before he could do anything about it, everything was already set in stone. By the time he was conscious of it, he was 'himself', but at the same time, the 'Demon Lord'.

For as long as he could remember, he had been plagued by nightmares. It could be said the bad dreams were normal for him. Though the clergywomen were troubled by this, Theodore himself thought very little of it. After all, they were but dreams, soon to be forgotten after he awoke. Yet, little did he realize at the time, each time he dreamt, a small part of it stuck with him. Bit by bit, he began to recall things that he had not experienced and memories not of his own.

Bit by bit, the remembrance began to change him. He began to smile less, cry less, and constantly he was plagued with a sense of urgency. The things that used to appear so large around him began to seem so small, so ephemeral.

From a certain perspective, it could be said that he was growing up. But even so, it was too fast, too unnatural. Theodore himself felt it was akin to being carried away at a speed that his reaction could not keep up with, a frightening speed, a speed which he could not control and was at the mercy of.

More often than not, when his eyes were wide at night, unable to fall asleep, it was not due to the nightmares he was so used to. It was the dreadful feeling of everything slipping away, like sand in-between his fingers. He could feel it, the world around him moving at such speed that it was leaving him behind. Or, perhaps it was he that was leaving the world around him behind.

Some night, he cried silently to himself. He could not afford to let others hear. Questions would undoubtedly be asked questions he could never answer truthfully. What could he possibly say? That he was the Demon Lord reborn, the being that was called the ultimate evil? That he would one day bring an end to all life? He couldn't possibly tell anyone these things, not unless he desired his own demise.

And so, he could only endure by his lonesome self as he continued on with his life, a life that he held preciously onto as if it might disappear at any moment.

***

'Larva', that was what a budding Demon Lord was called, a 'Demon Lord Larva'. As a Larva, Theodore had much to do. At this stage, the greatest of all priority was to survive. Even without doing anything, the corrupted Aether dispersed throughout his body would continue to strengthen him. Yet, to ensure survival, more strength was necessary, for there would be a day when he would have to face others like him.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Though he knew of the techniques contained within the memories passed down to him, merely knowing would do him no good. To be able to use them requires practice, to forge it into his flesh and Aether. Normally, the corrupted Aether would have granted some kind of power or ability to make this process smoother, but Theodore had none of that luxury due to the circumstances in which he encountered the Demon Lord's Aether.

Instead, he inherited the memories and experiences up to the very last moment of the previous Demon Lord's life, which would prove useful should he survive long enough to make use of them. Till then, he must make up for this deficiency through his own efforts.

Every day, Theodore would find time between chores to sneak into the hills. There, he practiced the magic techniques within his memories, grasping the wind, lifting the earth, shifting the water, and creating fire through friction, the basics of basics. As his body develops, he ought to be able to handle more powerful and complicated skills, but for the moment, time must be spent on building a foundation. His body must learn to handle the use of Aether before all else.

"Twenty... thirty... forty... A little over fifty I see. I can't say I'm impressed."

From the tips of his fingers, fifty-odd threads of pure Aether extended towards the sky, each one too thin for those unattuned to see. Acting as microscopic limbs, the threads stirred up the air and formed a whirlwind, attempting to gather the surrounding air into one spot.

On this day as well, Theodore remained diligent in his training.

"Not bad so far. Perhaps I'll push a little fur-"

While muttering to himself, his focus slipped for but a moment. In turn one of the threads snapped and the whirlwind began to destabilize.

"Oh no you don't!"

But even as he spoke, the threads began breaking down one after another, a reflection of his disrupted concentration. Before long, there were simply not enough threads to maintain the whirlwind, causing the concentrated air to break free all at once, blasting the area with a powerful burst of air.

Theodore, knocked onto his behind looked upon the sky with a blank expression before promptly letting out a sigh.

"The road is going to be a long one," he muttered to himself... only to scoff a moment later. "When was it ever not?"

As Theodore got back to his feet and was about to dust himself off, a most conspicuous sound reached his ears. It was the sound of panicked chirping.

Turning towards the direction of the sound, a nest fallen to the ground was spotted. The blast of violent wind must have knocked it off a tree. Within the nest, three chicks could be found.

"We're not missing one, are we?" questioned Theodore as he spread his arms wide.

Once more, from the tips of his fingers emerged threads of Aether, extending to cover a radius of roughly ten meters, weaving beneath shrubs and bushes, searching for signs of missing chicks.

"Ah, there's one more."

Through the threads, Theodore picked up faint vibrations, the sound of chirping roughly seven meters away. This one seemed to not have a proper grip on the nest and was blown off by the wind.

With a quick gait, Theodore walked over to the fallen chick and found it to be stuck within a bush. Weaving a few threads of Aether together to form a stronger thread, Theodore carefully cut the branches apart and gently extracted the baby bird with another set of threads.

After placing the chick back into its nest, Theodore lifted the nest and placed it up on the branches of a nearby tree. Hopefully, it was where the nest had fallen from.

"That should do it. Now then..."

Thinking that it was about time for him to return, Theodore headed back the way he came, back towards the town he called home.

***

End of Chapter 4

***