Book 1: Beginnings

Chapter 1: The Mischievous Young Master

"Young Master! Young Master, this is not amusing. What will your mother say when she finds out that you've sneaked off again?" A harried and disheveled middle-aged man cried out.

In front of the man, a pair of legs were sticking out of the ground. The man sighed in a resigned fashion and bent down to pull at the ankles, revealing a filthy child of three years once the form came into the light. "Really, Young Master Navin. You must stop with these antics."

A bright grin was rewarded the man. "Reginald. I'm only three. These excursions are completely normal for children my age. All the books on children say so. You should be more worried if I weren't crawling into unexpected places."

Reginald squatted down in front of the child and gave a well-worn lecture. "Yes, but children your age neither speak as eloquent, nor reason as well. If you're mature enough to do both, you're mature enough to not cause your mother undue stress. Even after three years, she's barely recovered from your birth."

Guilt flashed across Navin's dusty little face. "I know." Pausing for a moment, he smiled again at his caretaker. "Which is why I have a plan!"

As one used to humoring the child, Reginald grinned. "And what plan would this be?"

Wiggling his eyebrows as if he had something clever to say, Navin grinned even more broadly as he held up his hand and opened it before Reginald. "This is the first ingredient."

Confused, but willing to go along the man asked, "What do you plan to make with a fistful of dirt?"

"You're so close-minded, Reginald." Navin chided. "It's not just any dirt, it's Essence of the Earth!"

"Essence of the Earth? Forgive me, Young Master. I was too presumptuous." Reginald nodded placatingly. As if remembering something he had heard in passing, he asked, "Forgive me again, sir, but isn't Essence of the Earth dirt with a purplish tint?"

With a raised eyebrow and firm tone, Navin replied, "This is Essence of the Earth."

"Of course, sir." Wishing to move on, he prodded, "And the next ingredient?"

"Winds of Change."

"Winds of Change! Where will we find that? Not even the King has such an item. There's even a twenty thousand platinum reward listed for the past century!" Reginald exclaimed.

Such banter and excursions were common between Navin and Reginald. Like this, they would continue the afternoon; hunting for imaginary items of legendary significance in an effort to heal his mother. On rare occasions, Navin would even pull a passing villager into the game. Endearing them to Navin as word spread.

~*~

Navin quite enjoyed having a body. For the first month he just lied in his mother's weary arms, his crib, anywhere really; soaking up and immersing himself in the sensation of touch that flooded his brain. To him, it was a priceless and treasured experience.

He had to stop, though. It worried the maids to see him grinning with his eyes rolled up in his head as he lay on a surface, caressing it with his hand. They passed it off as harmless for the first week. By the second, they told his mother. So he did it in secret before tiring after two weeks.

The second month he had a body, he became aware of its frailness. Spending his existence in relative safety as a consciousness did not prepare him for the reality. No matter how many newly birthed lifeforms he had observed, it was a shock when he first fell out of his crib.

Three feet doesn't seem like much when you're use to hovering and floating around. For his body now, it was pure agony once the initial shock wore off.

It was not the last time he experienced pain, however. The second through fifth months were spent working his muscles. This was a mentally agonizing process, and often embarrassing. His body was frail and tired easily. Yet, he persisted. Slowly developing strength and coordination.

By the sixth month after his birth, his mother became an issue to his development. Vera was a kind woman, he had observed. However, her frail health after the birth only exacerbated her already finely honed mothering instincts. Upon noticing the growing strength and coordination of her son's body she compensated for her body's inability to quickly chase after a wandering child by tying him with a string to her wrist.

Navin was quite use to being independent and wandering wherever his curious nature led. After a week of frustrated attempts of crawling and being reigned in, he admitted defeat. This led to both his personal triumph and a shock that overtook the small village by storm.

Realizing that he wanted more to do with his time between naps other than laying on a bed with his mother, Navin utilized one of his observations from his wandering years. He would never admit it if asked, but it was a process similar to training a wild animal. Similar to how a hunter would coax a skittish wolf pup out of its territory with food, Navin coaxed his mother away from the bed.

Over a period of several days, Navin would slowly crawl away from the bed and endearing faces once he was on the ground. Vera had always had trouble resisting babies, so she of course followed after and would play with his cheeks. This process eventually led to him making a run for his father's study once he got near the open door.

Navin had observed that his father kept the house's collection of books in his study. This was the second phase of his plan, access to books. Not only would he pick up on information he might have missed during his decades of wandering the world prior to incarnating, he would have a suitable cover and plausible reason for talking in the future.

By 'chance' he bumped into the bookcase, overturning an already precariously balanced book and setting it on a path to topple open in front of him. Seeing his mother's worried expression as she hurried to him, he leaned towards the open pages and grabbed at them. Tilting his head to the side he made cooing sounds.

"Oh Navin! Are you all right? Did you hit your head? Knee? Stub your toes?" She cried frantically. Turning to a shocked husband sitting behind his desk when she had ran in after their child, she called out, "Harrison! Why did you leave such heavy books lying around where Navin can be injured!"

Stuttering, he replied, "Vera, dear--"

"Don't make excuses! You saw! The book nearly crushed his head."

"Honey--"

"I won't hear it! From this moment on, we must increase our vigilance. We will find money for another maid. We will remove all hard objects from the house. We will--"

"Vera!" He yelled, interrupting her.

"What!" She yelled back.

"You're hurting him." He consoled as he walked around the desk and removed her fingers clenching Navin's cheeks.

Navin barely paid attention to anything in the room after he leaned over the fallen book. He was quickly yanked up, upturned, declothed, pat on the back, pinched, and prodded by his frantic and dazed mother as she yelled at her husband. By the time her fingers were pulled from his now swollen cheeks, he was naked and barely conscious.

"No! I killed him, I killed out son. Harrison, he's all red and swollen. Call Martha."

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Shaking his head, Harrison rubbed his wife's back as he consoled her. "He's just disoriented from the experience of bumping into the bookcase, dear. He'll be alright." Harrison could never lie to his wife under normal circumstances, but he slipped one by her this time.

Noticing that it was now safe, Navin opened his eyes and smiled at the faces of his parents. Reassuring his mother he was fine. He again leaned over the book and cooed at the words on the page.

"Are you sure, Harrison? He doesn't act fine. Go get Martha to check. My mother's intuition is never wrong." She said worriedly.

Watching their son for another minute, Harrison reaffirmed his assessment. "I'm sure, dear. I think he's just interested in the book."

"Why would he be interested in a book?"

Picking it up off the floor, he moved it out of his son's reach. "I don't know, but he is. Look, he's trying to grab it." Harrison held the book towards his son and watched as Navin ran a finger along the page and cooed some more.

Worriedly, Vera asked, "Harrison, do you think he's trying to read? I've never seen a child play with books."

Seeing their son suddenly look up and smile at them at this comment, they looked at one another and frowned.

Navin's plan was set in motion. Whether out of humor for their son, because Vera was also tired of lying in bed, or in hopes of having sired a potential genius and seeing where it would lead; in the days that followed, Navin could always be found near someone reading aloud from a book. Sometimes in their lap where he followed the words along with his finger running across the page, sometimes crawling around on the ground and looking back up at the person if they stopped to ensure they knew they had to continue.

Word quickly spread that Navin was a peculiar child. This was always said teasingly when he was visited by people from the village. They respected his parents, who were always good to them. So, those who could read would stop by with anything they had at hand to help relieve some of the burden of watching him.

Books, broadsheets, leaflets, and lists of all kinds. If it had words, they brought and read to Navin. His attention never faltered. This was actually tested.

Upon exhausting what few dozen actual books the village shared, a passing merchant heard about Navin and went over to read his stock list. Drinking with the villagers later, he joked that the child had pointed at the list and where his finger rested was a discrepancy in his accounting. No one took him seriously, but it became a game to see the child's reactions at random bits of material.

~*~

This way, the first year of Navin's life with a body and soul passed. Having only observed with no tangible way of interacting with the universe, he reveled in the experience of moving about and luring people into doing things for him. After a year of leisure, he decided to get serious about laying a proper foundation for his future.

Having wandered countless planets and observed experts of all kinds, one might think that Navin was assured success in whatever he decided to accomplish in this life. In some respects, this was true. He could bring advanced medical, alchemical, or crafting knowledge and topple kingdoms with such influence. He might just do that, but it was far down his list of things to accomplish.

No, the previous consciousness of Navin's soul was on to the right track in what was important: strengthening the soul and developing the body along with it.

His reasons for this was many. If asked, he would point out that an increased lifespan after finally getting a body was the main one. Both to stave of a natural death and less natural ones. His secret reason was that he just like the idea of finally being able to use energy in all of its forms. In fact, there would be a popular book by an anonymous author that appeared in random school dormitories across multiple countries listing various shenanigans that could be performed with energy.

Regardless, foundations must be laid. At one year of age, Navin began laying his. The researchers who wrote the jade book in the past had done a better study on the soul than Navin had seen elsewhere. It was incomplete, however. Using his knowledge, he modified the training.

At this point, Navin hadn't done any work on his body's meridians or soul aside from reversing the flow of energy so that he wouldn't be pushed out. He had even left the acupuncture points necessary for the accumulation of energy sealed. Preventing any energy from flowing in or out.

Navin was leery of doing to much training at his body's age. He decided to focus on the basics: meditation and slowly tempering the energy channels (widening and strengthening the meridians). Without the points open, he would circulate the energy the soul had collected and do exercises with forming that energy into various spirals and other shapes as it moves along the pathways.

In several months, he would begin a series of slow movements he had admired enough from a secluded group of monks to spend a decade watching them. It gradually developed limber, flexible muscles and tendons as well as balance and coordination. This is also not as strenuous on his young and frail body, but will pay dividends as he grows.

Numerous schools have similar programs for their young members, he's just starting earlier than most. With his knowledge and watching many of those young members make the rookie mistake of advancing too soon, he was doing this one step at a time. Foundation is key.

~*~

Two years since his training had started, Navin is three years old. It wasn't exhaustive. He still hadn't opened up any points to draw in energy, so his body was reliant on food and rest to sustain and rebuild itself.

His daily regimen was simple. He awoke at 05:00 to meditate for an hour. This was followed by an hour of manipulating energy through his meridians as he performed movements for thirty minutes in between. At which point he would find Reginald to join him (harass) on an adventure in the forest after breakfast.

This would be followed by several hours of meeting villagers and helping them with their chores (with a harmless prank left for them to find later). He would then head back home and spend the afternoon with his parents. Before sleeping he would do the same exercises he had after first waking up.

This schedule ensured he would develop gradually, not stick out further, and keep his mother at ease. He had long ago read all the village had to offer. He'd even impressed the librarian in the nearest city and worked out a book exchange earlier in the year. With this, he knew that no one near him practiced energy manipulation. Aside from midwives who picked up some minor healing magic from their teachers.

This was also a reason for his adventures with Reginald. He still smiled about this morning's game at the hunt for Winds of Change. No one will pay attention when he starts training in earnest if he does so while keeping up this pretense.

He's almost ready. He wasn't lying to Reginald. Soon, he would heal Mother.