"I believe that everything happens for a reason. People change so that you can learn to let go, things go wrong so that you appreciate them when they're right, you believe lies so you eventually learn to trust no one but yourself, and sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together."

Marilyn Monroe

He now had enough information to pass without notice, but it wasn't a guarantee that he could. His unconscious movements would be problematic. They would be the first thing to give him away.

His subconscious reactions might also be a problem. He didn’t have any frame of reference from his younger self, but societal norms were bound to differ. He would react differently in situations because of his knowledge and how he was raised.

Not to mention when he interacted with the creatures from this world. He remembered the chickens. He knew it was harmless, but if that thing came near him, he might run. What about animals that were actually dangerous?

There was a whole forest to the north of the village that they were forbidden from going to. Even the adults were careful, choosing to hunt in the outer rim and never venture too deep.

Could he pass the difference in his behavior off as a change related to his near-death experience?

How would the people around him feel? If an air-headed 7-year-old child suddenly became more mature and timid?

Then again, did his parents have the luxury of noticing?

They owned a farm that was a relative success. By the standards of the village, at least. Most of the wheat produced in the village was given as taxes. The surplus of wheat was kept for food or sold.

The money earned was used for essential daily needs. Rarely was their excess that was saved or spent frivolously.

Sophia and Argus could support themselves and three young children during winter. This was the time when most elderly or young children starved. It was hard to find food and shelter from the cold.

The house that he was in was the exception, not the norm like he first assumed. Most people could not afford the magic gems necessary to allow for the house to be heated. He also realized that it was a secret that his family could.

Once you went past the gate, the image you saw changed. The house that had not a drop of snow on it before appeared to be buried and barely standing.

His seven-year-old self had been told not to mention this to anyone and not to question it. So that was what he did. He wanted to go back in time and smack himself. He needed answers to those questions.

From the memories, he realized that while the applications of magic were extensive. However, it had limitations. First of all, was the cost. Gems were needed to power spells. Without them, a person could not cast.

The gems used for magic were expensive. They also had a range of uses and energy stored in them that affected their cost. Even the cheapest ones were more than most people could afford.

The people in the village did not buy gems for casting. Instead, they bought gems with spells already engraved in them. Magic needed to be channeled through it.

He assumed the distinction came from the spells themselves. There was no way to be certain since he’d never seen anyone actively use magic.

He remembered the wheat fields that were growing despite it being winter. Wheat that could grow in winter was a special species. It also needed the aid of magic to grow successfully.

The duke supplied the wheat. The magic gems had to be purchased from the duke.

The trade was simple. His parents would give a portion of the yield to the duke. The remaining amount that his parents didn’t need for food would also be sold to the duke.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The magic stone that they bought could be sold back or kept for the next winter season. It would be at a lower cost since the energy in the gem would be less after having been used during the growth of the crops.

If the cost of the Err wheat was not so high once harvested, the entire deal would have been a loss.

The duke featured a lot in the memories that he watched. From the limited view he had, he could not figure out what the noble was doing. He treated Cur exceptionally well. All the people in the village sang his praises.

Even his younger self, who didn’t pay much attention to anything, was aware of how magnanimous the duke was.

Maybe he had a bias from the stories he heard and read about in his old world, but those from nobility were not kind for no reason.

He wouldn’t say that there were no kind people, but even they could only afford to be kind if the circumstances allowed it. It was that type of position. Being uselessly kind could lead you to be taken advantage of or be seen as a weakness.

It wasn’t apparent to him now, but there was more to the story than a kind man looking after his subjects.

He would slowly get the answers. There were answers to be found if he asked the right questions.

He focused on internal matters.

His parents had to work hard, but their situation was not terrible. They wouldn't freeze and starve.

He sighed. There were voices as people moved around the house.

The three days he was laid up in bed must have set his parents back. Nathair was responsible for taking care of his sibling precisely because his parents were busy.

Oran, at six years old, would be able to manage himself. However, their three-year-old sister needed supervision.

He frowned before recalling the necessary information. Thankfully it wasn't time to harvest the wheat. If he had gotten sick at that time, his parents would have had to hire help.

He didn't want to inconvenience his parents. He might not remember the care he received from them, but he could tell how well he was treated. How much love he received.

He had mixed feelings about his seven-year-old self. Did his rebirth negate those seven years?

Thinking about it made him uncomfortable. It wasn't something he would get an answer for.

Footsteps moved outside his door. The person hesitated before walking away.

A wave of panic overtook him.

Rebirth.

His body began to tremble, and he felt cold even though the room was cold. He found it hard to breathe.

Darkness encroached on him.

Not the one where he blacked out. He remembered the sensation of being alone. It was the darkness that he experienced for those nine months in the womb. Why was this happening now? He had been doing well.

Thank god fetuses slept most of their time away. What would it have been like if he was conscious of time? The moments he was awake were excruciating.

He did everything to pass the time. Mental mathematics, reread books, have entire conversations with himself. If he had been mentally week or spent a little longer there, he would have gone insane.

There would be repercussions for the time he spent there. He would have to monitor for any side effects. He could only wait and see what happened.

Did this world have psychologists?

He was suddenly very amazed by those protagonists that were reborn and took everything in stride. The way they integrated into another person's life. The ease with which they accepted their circumstances.

Maybe that was why this was real life, and that was just a story.

Nathair uncurled his body, taking deep breaths. It would not be good if he had a full-blown panic attack.

He listened to the sounds around him. The light streaming through the window was flickering due to the snow.

Closing his eyes, he breathed evenly. He focused on what he had to do once he left the bed. Lying on his back, he worked to relax the muscles in his body. When he was feeling boneless, he opened his eyes. He focused all his attention on the gem embedded in the roof.

This was his life now.

He wanted to walk in the snow and run his fingers through the water. He wanted to see a rainbow. He wanted to eat the unique foods of this world. He wanted to run. To feel dirt on his feet. Sights, sounds, taste, and touch. He was greedy for life.

Nathair realized this was a chance for him. Maybe other people would want fame or wealth, but not him. He had those things in his last life. He wanted connections. The allure of magic was too much for him. He could change a lot about himself, but his curiosity was not one of them.

He looked at his small clenched fist. He whispered the words to himself. "This is my second chance at life. It is my life. I plan to live it my way. I won't make any promises other than to try and not to fuck it up."

Looking back out the window, he watched the snow dance. He wasn’t sure if those words were a promise or a threat.

For himself?

For the world?

Tapping his forehead, he pulled himself back to the here and now.

Cur was a small village. The things he wanted to learn, he would not find the answers here. That would mean parting with his family.

Panic started to rise in him again. He lost them once. These people were strangers to him, but the promise of what they had to offer was so sweet.

He listened to their footsteps as they moved about the house.

He was getting ahead of himself. His knowledge was far too limited.

Sitting here stuck in his head would not achieve anything. He needed to interact with the world.

He propped himself up against the bedhead. He stared at the door. Why did the door seem so far? The distance resembled a chasm more than a few steps.

As he contemplated leaving the room, he lost the chance to act. His door creaked open, and a small face peered around the edge.