10 years

“How hard hard can rewriting the past be?” - Andras Grigori, biggest fucking idiot of a generation.

How hard can it be? Really fucking hard. I basically had to start from scratch to build up the skills and spell forms I was familiar with and do it all in an overpoweringly high mana density environment. Learning a skill the system already recognized is an order of magnitude easier than being the first person to acquire the skill and getting it recognized. It was like trying creating a new number or color without using the others as reference points.

Outrageously frustrating.

The only upside to this ridiculous system lockout was that I had a massive buffer of time to meet my early skill prerequisites. Though realizing that I would have to spend multiple years to hit my original goals was a momentary speed bump. I’d opted to speak to mother about class skills and just leave the magic skills for later.

“Hey Mama?” I asked out of the blue one day. Neia preferred when I used pet names rather than articulating ‘mother’ fully. She nearly cried the first time I used her name, so I had been careful not to do that again.

“The box in the sky says I can’t access the ‘sees tem’” I explained, purposefully playing up the inept child facade to put her in a receptive mood. “I’ve got all these spots for skills but I can’t pick anything…” I trailed off, hoping she remembered our earlier discussions on the functions of the system and it’s classes/skills as much as I clearly did.

“Can you help me?” I begged in the sweetest tone I could force without vomiting. I did adore my mother in this life, I loved her very much in fact, She took care of me very well and dedicated her time to helping me. My issue was with pretending to be a clueless whelp to save face when I could just as easily explain this entire situation in a single afternoon. My only reservation was how she may react, and what the fallout would be if my secret became known before I had system access.

“Sure Vincent!” Mother smiled back at me, drying her hands at the washbasin and leaving the kitchen to come join me in our central room. I was sat on the floor, drawing my status out on our slate, being careful not to waste too much of my precious chalk.

“Are there any skills you really want to get? Have any interesting ones been offered to you?” She asked softly. I did enjoy it when she didn’t treat me like a fool. Daniel, my father, had a habit of talking at me rather than to me, like he was looking down at a dog or a moron. Mother was gentle and graceful enough that it felt natural when we have conversations.

“I haven’t. No pops ups or anything.” I harrumphed, clearly displaying my displeasure at the lack of cool offerings. “Can you reads them to me? The symptoms won’t let me read any menus.” I grumbled again, deliberately choosing each word to reinforce my facade of frustration.

“Of course sugar! Just hold still okay?” Neia instructed me, taking a seat on the floor beside me and slowly focusing in on the Parental Override feature of a locked system interface. Shortly there after she began reading off the available skill names to me and the descriptions of what they did.

I didn’t pay too much attention to the predictable basics like [House work] or [Patience], knowing full well that I intended for my mother to pick one skill for me initially. The hum drum daily life skill she could choose would be her decision and I wouldn’t worry myself with it. No, instead I listened with apt attention to all the other skills I had spent the past five years building a base for. When she read a skill name, I had questions about the specific wording, trying to squeeze as much information out as I could.

I was blown away by my options.

I had not qualified for [Dubitful Student], instead the closest variant I had was [Obsessive Mind], a much more narrow skill tailored towards learning in a specific field but with exponentially larger returns than the broad spectrum [Student] skill variants. According to the description mother provided, my version of [Obsessive Mind] was geared towards all things mana and magic. A perfect choice.

Similarly, nearly every other skill I even considered came in a more specific or difficult to acquire variant than I originally hoped. Each of them laid another brick into a stronger foundation even despite such a long system unlock.

[Mana Sense] was replaced by [Mana Sight]. The enhanced version of the skill allowed for more direct sensory information rather than a vague feeling. From what I understood the skill functioned like a sixth additional sense, allowing you to ‘see’ mana as if it functioned the same way humanoid sight used light. It wasn’t reliant on your eyes, and was far more detailed than [Mana Sense]. Instead of just feeling the mana around me and its density, I would be able to ascertain type, concentration, and flow as well. A skill I hadn’t even had in my first life.

[Mana Shaping] was replaced by the upgraded version [Mana Forming] which normally took a decade or more to train and level before the upgrade was possible. Perhaps the techniques in this time are even more delayed than I thought? Or were my efforts in higher mana density wielding a higher return? I couldn’t say for certain, but all of these skill offerings weren’t something to complain about. I would not look this gift horse in the mouth.

Confirming the skills I absolutely wanted to take with mother was difficult, once we actually began discussing my choices she was unfortunately overcome with emotion.

“Vincent! All these skill options are wonderful sweetiepie, some of these I’ve only heard of from your grandfather. I always knew you were a smart little man” She practically wept with joy, painfully pinching my face and glossing over what appeared to be the first mention of any extended family in my life.

“Momma, I have some skills I want to take, but since you’re helping me would you pick out one of the Half-Elf skills?” I asked, my missing teeth forcing the ‘f’’s in Half-Elf to be pronounced more like “Halv-Elv”.

“I have four alweady” I offered in context, further struggling with the pronunciation of the “R” sound in Hikos.

“Aw!” Neia melted into a motherly smile, clearly touched by my desire for her involvement in what was a fundamental building block for the rest of my life.

“I’d be happy to pick out a good skill for you sugarplum!” She confirmed, once again refusing to dispense with the needless pet names. She grasped me in a hug before I could react and held me close for a moment before she began reading over my skills once more, this time to herself.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

The hug was fine honestly. She’s my mom after all. I just couldn’t get over being called “Sugarplum” or “Honeybunch”. It was humiliating.

Once she seemingly came to a decision, I pulled up my status to confirm it for myself. Everything looked okay at first, and then my heart drops deep into my stomach.

Name:

Vincent Stesk

Strength:

10

Classes:

Half-Elf Child lvl 1

Hp:

20

Vitality:

10

Mp:

60

Agility:

10

Active Class:

Half-Elf Child

Intelligence:

50

Charisma:

5

Willpower:

100

General Skills:

Class Skills: Half-Elf Child

Mana Sight - lvl 1

Obsessive Mind - Lvl 1

Mana Forming - lvl 1

Energetic Soul - lvl 1

Mana Command - lvl 1

Inquisitive Spirit - lvl 1

Rapid Aquisition - lvl 1

Cutie Patootie - lvl 1

[Mana Sight], [Mana Forming], and [Mana Command] were all great. They’re upgraded versions of the sense, shaping, and control skills I had considered already.

[Obsessive Mind] had replaced dutiful student, [Energetic Soul] replaced bountiful energy and lets me burn mp in place of stamina for prolonged physical activity.

It all looked great! Except the last skill. Why, just, why? I was likely to have these skills for the rest of my life, and Neia had seriously chosen one called [Cutie Patootie].

I could learn languages in weeks with [Rapid Aquisition] at high levels, [Inquisitive Spirit] would help me formulate new spell forms from scratch and find lost sources of knowledge. What on earth could [Cutie Patootie] possible contribute?

[Cutie Patootie] - Lvl 1

Passive skill

“Who could say no to that face?”

Skill user experiences a minor correction to physical appearance, appearing more well put together even when injured or filthy.

Skill user experiences a slight correction to social appraisal from others when presenting themselves in a harmless or adorable manner.

Effects doubled for women 10+ years or older than the skill user.

Skill name aside, it was basically a reputation buff. It made outward appearance easier to maintain, and helped me make good first impressions. All in all, not that bad, I just hoped the skill would evolve to have a better name and maybe ditch the last line rider. A wizard of the dark arts already carried a certain negative context. If people’s mother’s and grandmother’s started to be unnaturally kind to me that just added another layer of issue I’d prefer not to address.

All things considered it could have been significantly worse for me, I think I actually got off pretty good. Avoiding a skill like [Speak when spoken to] could be a big deal when you’re locked out of your own system controls.

Regardless, with new skills in hand my goals inched ever so slightly closer. The past few years had seen astounding increase to my physical size. Given, I didn’t start from very tall, but I no longer felt like I lived in a world of giants. Every few months it seemed fewer and fewer everyday tasks required my reliance on another person, and while I did care for my parents, not having to ask for help just to open a door had been delightful.

On the note of doors my increased height, now nearly a meter and a half, had made it so Daniel and Neia could no longer restrict me as easily. I could come and go from the house as I wished, lest they found a way to lock the doors out of my reach. The first few times I wandered off had been an event of course, with both of them giving detailed lectures as to why I should let them know. Honestly, if I just wanted some privacy, what was the harm. I hadn’t seen a single mana-beast anywhere near this town and when I grew up the first time they were everywhere! The increased mana density somehow made this time safer than any other I knew of.

I digressed again. The current focus of my attention was finding time to actually train my new skills. With my new found freedom I had begun making trips into and out of the village. Having of course come to an agreement with my parents regarding the responsibility of such things. I was not allowed to leave the confines of the village proper, and they expected me to take on some more responsibilities around the house.

Father’s exact words on the matter were “You can’t just be responsible when it’s convenient for you. If you want to start being a big boy, you need to realize that comes with a few not-so-fun requirements too”

No amount of arguing would likely change his mind on things anyway, and the deal was acceptable enough in the first place. So I agreed without hesitation. The final details we settled on revolved around my trips to the village being unsupervised, but I had to be willing to go pick up our groceries and supplies whenever asked.

In practice this meant I was bringing home a small parcel just about every time I went out, but that was of little consequence. The village itself represented an unprecedented space for learning, reconnaissance, and the least exciting part of human growth, socializing.

As much as I had a tendency to despise other humans, having peer relationships and the recognition or respect of others was key to a successful life while still living in society. In order to avoid a repeat of my first life and death, I needed others to truly care about me. To the point they would not betray me. The lack of heartbreak was a bonus as well.

As uncomfortable as it would be in the long run, I needed relationships with others. And, though I regretted having to admit it, having no peers or even friends of a similar physical age was dramatically isolating. For lack of a more acceptable, less humiliating word, I’d been lonely. I was lonely still. My world and everything I knew about it had been left behind when I died. I had tried to run from this fact, I had tried to pretend like it didn’t bother me. Like it doesn’t bother me. It does.

If I wanted to avoid falling into a pit of despair and self pity, I had to move on with my life and actually live it.