Six of the best years of my second life passed.

At least, that's what I wanted to say.

The problems started when I turned one. No, actually, they just kept coming from there.

After all the effort I put into making sure that my mom, father, and the hag did not miss my first birthday, guess what? Yep, you guessed right, I never got the birthday.

After all the time, effort, and physical and mental exhaustion, I got nothing to show for it. Nothing, zero, nada, zilch, nani mo, lutho. It was like passing the three terms of the school year, only to fail the last one. Meaningless, in other words.

The day came and went like a normal day to them.

I felt so betrayed.

The following year came too, then next, then the next, then the next and then next, and still nothing. I was six now, with no birthday under my belt.

Sad if you asked me.

There were some things I was happy about though.

At two, I was finally able to speak properly. That had been the biggest joy for me. Well, I could speak normal enough to have a basic conversation. My tongue was still a bit stiff, so I could not pull of complicated syllables. I was finally able to pull off fancier words when I turned three.

I grew and changed, and so did my family.

Father finally got a hang of his parental duties. That, or it could be because I wasn't a troublesome baby. He wasn't the best, but he wasn't necessarily bad either. He could hold me properly and he was quite responsible too; knowing what was appropriate for me to eat, and what was inappropriate for me to eat. Which was no candy, which really sucked in my opinion.

The hag loved my attention. Compared to how stern she was on me on my first year, my second, third, fourth and fifth years were quite blissful in her care. She didn't give me candy, but she did give me loads of cookies and milk. Even when mom would insist that I get no cookies, granny would bring some to bed when she was tucking me in. Mom still hadn't figured that one out, thankfully.

My relationship with the hag had grown to the point where we shared a bed occasionally.

It all started with the memory of my death visiting me in the form of a dream when I was four. I woke up soaked in sweat and breathing heavily.

I was scared after the vivid dream I had. So scared that being alone was the last thing I wanted.

My first instinct was going to my parents' room, but the sounds I heard coming from the room when I approached told me that I would be nothing but a hindrance.

So I went to the hag.

Surprisingly enough, I found her awake and in full attire. That being the oversized navy coat she always wore that made her look like a creepy cartoonic witch.

I told her what brought me to her room, and she also admitted to me that she was also having trouble sleeping. She tucked me to bed, but we ended up falling asleep together .

So it was good changes all around, but good things were never without their counterpart.

And what was bad about my life? It was simple enough: my mother changed.

She got less gentle, and more... scary. Well, the word of what she was wasn't invented yet.

After I turned one, she went back to her training. No, the problem wasn't that she was was training. That wasn't bad at all. In fact, it was awesome.

Mom's hand-to-hand combat was exquisite, and her blade work was even more breathtaking. The way she did her sword forms showed discipline and dedication to her craft: it was clear to see that she was a sword specialist. And though her hand-to hand combat wasn't as good as her sword skill, she was still fast and fluid because of her built frame, and she compensated her lack of power with solid stances that allowed her to draw out the maximum potential from her centre of gravity.

I've never really had the chance to see her magic abilities, which sucks.

Again, the problem wasn't that she was training. The problem started when she found me (four years old) practicing the forms of the fighting style I used in my previous life.

At that time, control over my body had become somewhat stable enough that I could make some complicated movements. What I was unable to pull off by going at it full force, I would pull my punches on.

I was quick to realize my shortcomings in my first training session.

When I took my stance for the first time in this world, I immediately felt the difference.

I was short, and extremely light, which threw me off.

I threw a punch.

It was not it.

I felt awkward as I moved through the forms.

I threw a one-two jab combo then followed up with a knee with my left leg. Then turning with my knee, I brought up my right leg into a spin kick. I continued with that flow, twirling as I brought my body low in execution of a sweep kick.

All movements were awkward, and I had a habit of over-reaching since I was alien to my body, which messed up my precision and follow-ups. If I fought an enemy in such a mediocre way, I would surely die.

But the only way to work out the kinks was with constant practice.

So I poured my heart and soul into it.

I flew into the forms repeatedly.

Sweat dripped down my skin, drenching my clothes as I was hard at work. I could tell with every turn that the kinks and habits of this body were still inhibiting just as much as when I had started, but it wasn't something I expected to solve in a single day.

I had punched, palmed, elbowed, kicked, swept, and kneed the ground until I felt my stomach grumble in demand of food.

So here was the rundown: I was short and small. My movements were awkward when compared to the taller and much bigger teenage body I had grown accustomed to.

I was able to train alone for a solid week before my mom found me.

Mom had asked where I had seen the form of martial arts since she wasn't familiar with it. Since I couldn't tell her that I took self defence classes since I was six (in my previous life) and actually kept practicing until I was part of the Mixed Martial Arts Club in high school (where I was then stabbed to death for trying to be a hero), I lied and told her that I was copying her but changing up moves that were hard for me to pull off.

She bought it, excited at how capable I was, and bought it a little too well. So too well that she dragged me into her training every single day from then.

I feel like I don't have to mention that they hurt, because they did.

Sometimes it felt like she was torturing me instead of training me.

I was actually excited at first, thinking that I would learn magic, but all I got to work on were the physical, and excruciating, aspects of battle. We focused on my own original fighting style, and her teaching me her sword skill, while father taught me the theory side of magic.

Mom's teachings were wonderful, if I ignored how short-tempered she was, and I could tell that I was improving at an astonishing rate.

But, more than anything else, I wanted to learn magic.

Learning how to manipulate reality to my will would be the most coolest thing. That, and the fact that magic was literally a must have to increase your chances of survival in this world, was one of my reasons. I did not know how long this peaceful life of mine would last, so I had to learn while I had the leisure because the dangers of this world wouldn't wait for me to master these things.

Thinking that mother and I were on the same wavelength, I was patient with her.

A year of us training together passed, and I turned five.

She never taught me magic.

She did not even broach the subject.

So I took it upon myself to ask her about it. Was learning all about the theory from father, so why not put it to use?

I was surprised that I held on for so long before I asked.

Go me!

I asked her why she hadn't taught me magic, and she told me how it was better to build the foundation solidly before you built on it.

I understood that, but I couldn't help but taste the hesitation in her voice; the lie hidden underneath what she was trying to convince herself to be the truth. It was the first and last time I ever asked her to teach me magic.

I asked my father to teach me magic and he told me that mom would teach me when she felt I was ready for it.

He gave off the same vibe I got from my mother. It was the first and last time I ever asked him to teach me magic.

So while my instruction in the ways of magic were currently on hold, everything else was going well for the most part. For the least part: I had a weird family, to put things mildly.

My mom seemed responsible at first, but I was starting to think she was on some kind of maternal instincts high after giving birth, if such a thing even exists. Oh, and remember how I said that I could not imagine her wielding fire because of how gentle she was?

I was wrong.

Mom was a warrior much like the hag. I had suspected that father was at the bottom of the power scale in the house and it turned out I was right.

The hag was the strongest, followed by my mom, then father came last. According to mom thought, the only reason it was that way was because father's mana coils were prematurely developed, which meant that he could barely use mana at all.

Father had mentioned his condition to me with a gentle smile on his face - a few months after my fifth birthday - telling me that he was happy that I did not inherit it from him. It made me feel sad for him.

It also made sense why he was so timid and awkward despite being such a handsome man. In my previous world, father would have been an idol without even trying. Yes, the man was that handsome.

Father's condition was not the weird thing about him though. The weird thing about him was how responsible he suddenly was.

In short: mom had turned hopeless, and father had turned into the mother of the house.

What the fuck indeed.

Leaving the weirdness of the role switch between my parents behind...

Onwards to the most exciting part: a proper description of my education!

Mother was solely responsible for my combat training, father taught me the mage, the theory of magic, ranking of mages, strategy, geography, ranking of monsters, politics, and etiquette, and the hag was supposed to teach me history, but she didn't. I was not surprised.

She hid her reason for not teaching me history well, but I suspect that she was running away from boredom.

Father and I stuck mostly to him teaching me the theory side of mana. While the information seemed useless because I could not put it to the test, I learnt it anyway because it pertained to an interesting concept that I needed in life. He had me brush up on the basics he had explained to me when I was barely even a year old, before we delved deeper into my studies.

The mage: a member of the races that can harness mana to use magic. Mages were generally more stronger than civilians. The reason was because of the process of assimilation.

Assimilation is the integration of mana into the bones and muscle tissue of a Mage. Civilians of this world were about ten times stronger than civilians of my previous world because they had a degree of assimilation to them. Mages were superior to these civilians because mages cultivated their mana from a young age, growing and nurturing it, thereby having more and stronger mana assimilated into them.

Theory of Magic: Water, Earth, and Wind magic had two variations to them; Manipulation Magic and Creation Magic. Fire Magic was the only element with only Creation magic since fire did not exist as a natural element in this world, or even the world I came from (you could find the lava deviant sometimes, but never the natural element). As if you could just find fire just burning for no reason somewhere in the world.

Fire was hailed as the most strongest and most destructive element because all mages were forced to walk the thorny path of Creation Magic. It was also emphasized that multiple elementalists tended to be fire mages: since their affinity for creation magic was quite high, they had an easier time mastering the manipulation variant of magic of the other three elements, granted the control needed for such an advancement would need the mage to be a deviant. Also looking at the recorded stats in the history of Fire mages in the world, it was easy to see that most deviants were fire elemental mages.

The Manipulation variant was easier to master, thus more preferable to the mages of the three natural elements, because they could alter from what already exists in the world in order to use their magic. It made sense why the Manipulation variant was more popular though: I also wouldn't want to bother walking a thorny path when there was a paved way to success. At least, that's what I would say if I was uneducated.

What made Creation Magic hard was not simply the fact that you needed exceptional control in order to use it, but it was largely about the Mana Pool that a mage had. So even if you had the exceptional control required, if your mana pool was insufficient, you would be stuck. I could somewhat agree with the fact that even if you had the mana, but if you lacked the necessary control you would fall short. Thinking about the two however, I would rather have a larger Mana Pool because you could learn the required control over time, but there was nothing you could do when your Mana Pool stopped growing when you turned seven.

So while the Manipulation variant of mana of the natural elements was advantageous at the onset, it presented quite the disadvantage when the mage grew, making it easier for the mage to hit a wall on their growth somewhere down the line.

Thus, the mages are then forced to master Creation Magic to equal those who wield fire, but even then it depended on whether they had the required mana capacity for it or not.

It was also noticed that most mages with Rare Affinities had fire as their Primary Affinity, thus, fire elemental mages were quite treasured because they were believed to be the ones closest to all of creation.

Again, the Mana Pool of a mage stopped growing when they turned seven. That deadline made me feel antsy because I was approaching my seventh birthday without having even unlocked my mana.

I did not fancy being magicless. The world became harsh when you did not have what came naturally to others. So I tried and tried to unlock my mana, but every time I tried to pull on it, it felt like it was stuck.

Ranking of Mages: Mages were ranked from E (Weakest Rank) to A (Strongest Rank), and sometimes mages got the S (Special) Rank. Generally, Fire Mages are all weak at the initial stage of mastery over their Mana (E to D Rank), but they are quite strong when they reach the intermediate stage of mastering their mana (C Rank) as they could be equated to an advanced natural element manipulation mage (B rank), and from B rank, a fire mage was the equivalent of five A rank natural elemental manipulation mages.

Strategy: Father strained its importance. As a routine, we would play at least five games of chess a day.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

I had never really played chess in my old world, but it turned out I was somewhat of a genius at it, if how I had never lost to my genius father was anything to go by. That, or my father was just that bad at it. I'd asked my mom and the hag to play me, and I was only convinced I was good when I beat them too. Though, to be fair, mom and the hag weren't the sharpest knives in the shelf.

Moving on.

Despite losing to me every time, father never failed to lecture me about the importance of a solid yet flexible strategy.

Sore loser.

He emphasized that while I was at an advantage, fortune tended to favour the prepared mind: while my elemental affinity put me at an advantage, the battlefield was ruled by information, and the better strategist would always win.

Unless, well, I had the type of power that defied logic. Like the hag. I did not know how, but I could just feel that the hag was op.

Weird.

Ranking of Monsters: They were ranked mostly like mages, but it was a rule that a mage would always lose against a monster of the same rank. That was because monsters had an innate understanding of mana that allowed them to assimilate mana and harden their bodies more than those of mages, and while the mana pool of mages stopped growing at seven, thus ending the assimilation process, monsters did not have that limit. In other words, all monsters were subject to evolution if they lived long enough.

The logic made sense. I mean, imagine a monster waking up everyday to train. Just thinking about it made me laugh.

Their design was unfair but necessary.

Geography: I always had a knack for getting lost in my previous life because of my bad sense of direction. Which was ironic because I liked wandering around. I was glad that that habit did not follow me to my second life.

My previous life had the internet, which made getting completely lost unlikely, but there was no internet to speak of here. Though even in my previous world, having the internet would not help you if you were stuck in a forest with no internet access.

I never had to sweat being stuck in a forest in my previous life because I never engaged in such activities even when my family took vacations to go camping: I always prayed they get eaten by a bear or something so that I would have all their assets. The prayer never worked, but a guy could dream.

This world, however, was less advanced than my previous one. There were more dirt roads than paved ones, for starters, and even then the roads did not have boards to show where you were going. So I had to learn how to read a map if I wanted to survive.

According to the map of the world, this world had one, rather large, continent to it: the Olurun Continent. The continent was composed of Eight countries, namely: Azania, The Great Forest, The Underground City of Argon, The Holy Country of Eden, Shembe Republic, Ars and Einsheild.

I was surprised to find out that Dragon's Peak was not an independent state, but a small village between the borders of Azania, The Great Forest, and Argon. We were at the centre of three great countries, surrounded by enemies at all sides in other words. What lay in fornt of us was something called The Forbidden Forest (Previously known as Ars). None of my textbooks talked much about it, but when they did, they made sure not to be subtle about the fact that no one was meant to go there.

Quite ominous if you asked me.

It was probably infested with monsters. I would not be surprised if it was where monsters came from.

Scientist develops a new serum, serum is mistakenly distributed on all citizens of the kingdom. Citizens turn into monsters. Instant apocalypse. Totally possible.

Okay, back to the topic.

Geography was actually fun when you had the right sense of direction. What also made it fun was how good father was as an instructor. Unlike mom who'd chew me out when I messed up, father was patient, and when he saw that I was struggling, he would offer a new approach for the problem. He was the embodiment of the saying "there are many ways to kill a cat."

To test me out he blindfolded me and left me somewhere in the forest with a map marked with only where I was. We had gone over the map of the island's forest together a couple of times, walking the theory part with excitement and glee: hand in hand. Yet I was left to do the practical alone. I would have complained, had I not been excited about it.

The test started out in the early morning and I was home in the early afternoon. Father was impressed, stating that he was hoping I would have been stranded so that he could swoop in to save me.

Cruel.

I had wondered why he told me to leave my sword behind. I had to symphathise with him though, because there wasn't anything he could do to seem cooler to me.

Language: I was Pedi in my previous life, and I was Zulu in this one. The fact that English was spoken should have been a dead ringer for me, but it was the Zulu that made my jaw drop. He told me my true name, and all the clan names that came with it. It was all easy to learn because my mother in my previous life had been Zulu, so I was more than a little familiar with the language. What had been the biggest shock for me was the original characters of the language. That had not existed in my world.

So I was not a dragon, but a lion.

Etiquette: Father did not have much to do when it came to etiquette. While I preferred to ignore good manners, and be casual, I still had the teachings from my previous world.

To my surprise, they were even more elegant than the ones father was teaching me. Made sense though since etiquette and language had been polished for over two millennia in my previous world, while we were still in the year 500 of the Godslayer Era in this world.

According to father, the calendar had been reset. (I suspected that it had something to do with The Great War).

All along I had thought that this was a completely different world, but now that I thought about it, a lot of the theories, science, mathematics, and language use were the same as my previous world, only changed to adapt to mana and magic.

I was confident I was not in my previous world though. If I was, then I would have to be somewhere in the far future because no one could use magic when I died. That, or I was in a parallel universe of the universe of my previous world: like there was one universe, and it had a set of different multiverses where the species inhabiting it pursue life differently.

Both my theories made sense but I decided to lodge the matter at the back of my mind for the sake of my own sanity. Learning which theory was right would not do me any good.

Besides, it wasn't like I planned on going hero or anything. I just wanted to be left alone, so such cosmic events were trivial to me.

Politics: I hated them.

History: I knew nothing at all since the hag had not started up on my education. The only thing she insisted in teaching me was how to fight with a spear.

"A powerful Zulu woman who fights with a spear, isn't that the coolest thing you have ever seen?" she had said while wielding her spear.

She was not wrong either. I was pretty particular about these things in my previous life and the same went for this one. I was a traditionalist, and I took pride in the cultures and traditions that came from my lineage.

"Besides," went on the hag, "it won't help to cram your head with history when you're not even strong enough to make your own."

Again, the old bag of bones was not wrong. Rude, but not wrong.

So I had stuck to learning how to wield the spear from her. It had gone awry for a few weeks before I started to get a hang of things. Okay, hey, I know what you are thinking but it wasn't my fault okay? I was still trying to get used to my body.

When all was said and done, I loved and very much enjoyed wielding the spear. Mostly because it had historical and cultural significance to me.

Biased, but I do not care.

So while some might have found it weird how I was being taught all these complicated things at a young age, the experience I had from my previous life really came through for me.

I don't know about the upbringings of normal people, but being the child of the head of a conglomerate in my previous life, nothing but the best was expected from me, so my education was advanced from a young age. Discipline and the drive to stay above the anyone and everyone were hammered into me, giving birth to the ego and entitlement that I now had.

I was the child of royals now, which seemed pretty much the same to me.

What a day. I sighed to myself, walking out of the library after finishing a match of chess with my father. I walked down the corridor until I reached the front door and stepped out of the house. Now, it's time for some alone time,

By alone time, I meant teaching myself magic. I had given up on asking my parents to teach me, and enlisted myself as my own instructor.

I did not think I could do much, but I hoped I would have a lucky break and mistakenly use my mana for something.

I trailed a path that I had walked so much over the last three months that I was sure I could walk with my eyes closed.

I had disappeared at the west of the forest, towards the setting sun. I had trained and meditated for three months - yes, meditated - but I got nothing to show for it. Well nothing meaning that I could not use my Mana yet.

The only achievement I got for my meditation was that I could feel that there was something dense and potent in my body but I could not access it.

I had searched the library for any book that might help me unlock my mana but I got nothing. It was impossible for such a large library to not have books like that, so I was convinced that my parents were hiding them from me.

What's their deal? I kicked a rock that was in my path.

I walked around trees, turning at times and at spots that would seem random to anyone who had never been to where I trained. I had my short sword drawn, ready for anything that might try and jump me.

Well, the forest was quite docile, but still. Mom and the hag always told me to never let my guard down even at the dinner table.

This sucks.

I could not understand why my parents did not want to teach me magic. They had taught me a lot that I was grateful for, but this one refusal to teach me magic was making me anxious. It wasn't helping that the eyes and seal conversation they (Mom, father, and the hag) were keeping secret from me, was still stuck in my mind.

Sure, it made no sense to have such deep conversations with a four year old but I still could not help it. A lump of resentment was in my heart, and it grew with each frustrating day without being taught how to harness my mana.

It also wasn't helping that I had not seen the hag for the last three months too. I was sure she would teach me magic.

I'll just wait or her to get back.

I already had a strategy in mind to convince her to help me. While mom and father needed a bit more tricke... Erm... I mean... persuasion, the hag just wanted the truth.

"Always endeavour to speak your mind to free yourself from the shackles of regret." she had said, "What has already been spoken may be impossible to take back, but what lays unspoken will fester and poison you as you start to think that if you had spoken up, maybe things would not have been so bad. So don't run away from the truth. Tell it to yourself, and tell it to everyone around you."

I found her words ironic considering all the secrets she kept from me. Alas, I kept quiet and heeded her advice.

I peeled away a large leaf from my path, entering my training ground. It wasn't anything special really, just a plain grassy clearing surrounded by trees. It held no tranquility in it to inspire calm for what I was about to train in. It was a normal, rather bland, spot you could find in any typical forest.

But it's enough. I sat down, adopting my form for meditating.

It was enough because I could train in peace. My mom and father would not find me, and I would just get scolded by them for disappearing without a word, as usual.

My body responded with easier fluidity to the commands I sent it. I grew everyday, and my control over my body also grew.

I had grown taller and even cuter. My caramel skin never seized to glow. My snowy hair had grown into a large afro, my mom refusing I cut it, so it was always tired into a bun. Which had the unintended effect of making me look like a girl.

Despite my rather girlish looks though, I was glad of growing up. I was six years old but my body was as tall as a ten year old. I must have gotten the hag's height. At least, I hoped. Or it was just how kids were by Dragonborn standards? Maybe.

I took in an even breath, and then let it out. I took in another breath, then I released it.

I kept my breathing steady, which gave me a sufficient inwards flow of oxygen into my lungs and an outward flow of carbon dioxide out.

My other senses had already become sensitive the moment I closed my eyes, and the calm flow of blood circulation introduced by my even breaths made my senses even more sensitive.

My body started to do everything with a steady rhythm.

I could hear the exact depths of my breaths, I could hear the lively beats of my heart, I could feel the cool summer breeze that brushed against my skin. But then-

"!"

- there was a whisk of something unfamiliar in the air and my hand shot for my short sword the same time my eyes flew open. I could feel the hairs on my skin stand on end as my heart pounded anxiously.

I swallowed, holding my sword up in a solid stance. My arms wanted to shake but my ego would not allow it.

My first instinct was to ask who was there, but I did not want to be a wimp about it. Instead, I remained vigilant, my eyes scanning my surroundings with every anxious beat of my heart.

I could tell from an instinctual level that whatever or whoever was out there was way more powerful than I was. My death was assured in other words.

A bead of sweat ran from my forehead, trailing down the side of my face. Sadly, my ego could not control my sweat glands. My hands were sweaty and my grip on my sword was weakening: it was taking my all to keep my arms from shaking and to keep my stance solid.

"Hm? I see someone has grown somewhat."

The voice came the same time a shadow appeared over me.

I was frozen in place, and with my sword now at my neck and both my arms held at my back. It all happened in an instant, without me even feeling it.

"You didn't have to do this, ya know." I yanked my hands away and pushed the sword off with a huff that was a mixture of annoyance and relief.

"Aww, are you sad at your powerlessness?" the hag smirked at me, her yellow eyes looking down on me, as she poked my cheek with the tip of my sword as if it was a finger, "It's worse for you because you can actually sense your demise." her frightening control over her own body and the blade in her hand was made apparent by that simple action.

I wanted to gush at how cool what she was doing was because if I did the same I was sure it would result in me stabbing someone to death or poking my eyes out.

"Tch, just teach me magic and we'll see whose powerless." I chose to change my point of focus instead of admiring her.

She kept poking me with the blade.

"Oh? Okay, I'll teach you so that I can beat the crap out of you in the process."

"You're a crappy person you know that." It was hard for me to be excited about finally being taught magic because of the crude way she spoke. "And you already have been beating the stuffing out of me. For a year even."

"I have been, haven't I?" she got a nostalgic look in her eyes like she was reminiscing of the good ol' days.

Why you old bag of bones!

When I had mastered my spear forms to the level where she felt I could finally use some practical training, the hag made me spar with her.

Unlike my mom, whom I fought one-on-one, the hag told me that I won't always have the luxury of fighting a single opponent on the battlefield. She wasn't wrong, but what her lessons entailed felt like a preparation for a war.

Since she was convinced I was used to fighting a single opponent thanks to mom, she went for two when we started sparring.

It was only her, but she was so fast and her afterimage was so solid that it was like I was fighting two of her at the same time.

The struggle was real because she attacked in earnest. Well, just earnest enough not to kill me.

The spears we were using were wooden but it still hurt when they struck home. I had a feeling I would actually die if she used her real strength even with a wooden spear. Not a pleasant experience honestly.

What I hated the most about the training was that she would instantly add two more opponents when she felt I was getting used to the current number. She told me that she was using the moment to keep me on my feet because the sense of accomplishment made people let their guard down. It was true. I did die because I had let my guard down because I felt like I had accomplished something. But still, I needed to feel like I was going somewhere with what I was doing.

Luckily enough, mom always kept it at one, so I was able to tell my growth from her.

"Still, I'm your grandmother so show some respect, brat." She gave me back the sword, then pushed me away. "Though I must admit I'm impressed that you came so far alone, and with only three months."

I stumbled a few steps before I came to a stop, my brow rising. "You've been watching me?"

"Yeesh," she rolled her eyes. "Who do you think made sure your parents couldn't find you?"

"And here I was thinking that I was kinda awesome. Thanks for taking that away from me." I grumbled.

"You're welcome my weak, pathetic, and defenseless grandson."

"Hey! That's not nice!"

"So are the people in the world brat." then she jabbed a thumb at herself while grinning, "So I'm going to make you so strong that it will be up to you whether you do something about it or not."

There it was, my opportunity to be honest about how I wanted her to teach me magic and to be honest about why I was working so hard in the first place, and I did not hesitate to pounce on it.

"I do not want to be overworked if possible. In fact, I would prefer if I got everything handed down to me. Also, I don't really care about the world and what is going on in it. I would actually prefer if it left me alone. Responsibilities are no fun, so I would prefer to be left alone to sleep for as much as I want for all the effort I'm currently putting in. Sounds good?"

The hag's smirk widened, a hint of malice in it. "I'm glad you're so selfish because I will be handing power down to you."

"I think I regret this already."

"Too late! Now sit down!"

"Fine." I sat down.

The smirk died from the hag's face the next moment. Her lips thinned and her eyes focused, giving birth to an impressive serious expression. "Now before we get into the main objective, I want to address something even more important."

I frowned. "What is it? What could possibly be more important than teaching me magic and making sure I get to live my life without lifting a finger? Nothing, I would imagine." I was really driving it home.

"I know you must be angry at your parents for not teaching you magic, but please try and be patient with them, okay?" Her voice was pleading with me.

"..." I just stared at her, still frowning. "Well at least now I know for sure that I'm not imagining things."

"Look, Sebastian, they are young. They will make mistakes, like not teaching you magic or keeping you cooped up in here, but don't be too angry because they are still learning." She smiled. It was so sincere that it made my heart skip a beat. "I know it is easier for you to gravitate towards me but that's because I already have experience raising your mother. So while they are learning, I'm reviewing from my past mistakes and doing better."

"Gotcha." I nodded. "Can I learn magic now? I really want to hurry up and be powerful and stuff so that people will stay away from me."

I was not subtle with how much I did not want to have the conversation. It pissed me off honestly. It pissed me off so much because it was how the parents from my previous life had been. I was being treated as something dangerous for no good reason.

Sure, I mean I did push both my siblings over the railing from the second floor of the house in my previous life, but they survived and became splendid adults.

That, and I was not to blame for how I ended up pushing them in the first place. One might argue that the hands that pushed them overboard were mine, but why even pay attention to such trivial matters?

Fact was: I was special, I knew that much, but I did not approve of what my parents (Emilia and Bel) were doing.

I deserve better dammit.

Adding the years of my previous life, I was already over eighteen, where I should have been left to figure life out on my own, and I wanted to do just that, but they were in my way.

"Sebastian-" grandma tried.

"If you teach me magic, then I'll have no reason to resent them for treating me like a wild beast." I shrugged. "Deal?"

Grandma sighed, shaking her head. "Stubborn." Then she smiled. It was forced. "Okay then."

It was true, I would have no reason to resent them, but I still would. Unlike some people, I was not very good at pretending. A spade was a spade to me and I would call it as such.

The hag's voice pulled me out of my thoughts, "Okay then. Guess we'll begin."

"Yes, let's."

She sighed before she spoke. "Magic is complex, especially since you are a fire elementalist. At least, that's what I would say, if you were a typical fire elementalist." She pointed an almost accusatory finger at me. "Listen, and listen well Sebastian Dragonborne! You my boy, are dangerous, and given the right teachings, you possess the potential to be omniscient and omnipotent!"

I'd heard all of her blabbering but I still stared blankly at her.

"Huh." was my smart reply. Is this woman crazy? I mean I had wondered that a few times but I was starting to believe she was. And why so loud, cute and hyper all of a sudden? I don't mind, but still.

At speeds that could be describe as the blink of an eye, she was in front of me, crouched and poking at my forehead with her index finger. She was crouching and I was standing, but she was still taller than me.

"You are special!"

Wasn't she calling me dangerous a moment ago?

"You are a monster!"

Okay that was uncalled for.

"You will destroy us all!"

"Hey! Tha-" the tap of her index finger stopped me. Her finger now rested on my forehead.

"That's what people are going to say about you. Five hundred years ago, an ancestor of ours unlocked a rare affinity so powerful that the power drove him crazy. You also have the same rare affinity as him."

I looked up in surprise to find grandma smiling despite telling me something so grave. Her smile was bright, and her eyes were sparkling in excitement.

So cute.

"Four people plus one won't have the same opinion about you, so why expect the world to? 'You are dangerous', 'you are special', 'you are a monster', 'you will destroy us all'; they will say all of that about you. Do you want to know what I think of you?"

I nodded, dumbfounded.

"You are my precious grandson. So even if that solid number of people have bad things to say about you, that plus one that makes the number infinite will always have something good to say about you. I will always have something good to say about you. You will never be alone."

I was in love.