At the time of the festival I was around three months old, but that time soon passed.

After that event there was a period of time when temperatures dropped and snow overtook the village for about four months, which was in short to say that winter had come.

The only person who would ever go outside during that time was father, but even he did so on rare occasions on account of the freezing cold weather, giving the family a lot of time to themselves.

I spent this time doing what I would always do, watching and learning.

What I noticed was that a lot of attention went towards my brother, whose name I soon learned to be Armot as my comprehension of this world’s language steadily increased.

Not too long after learning his name, I also learned my own name, “Vaikus”, leading to another realization that the main reason for the event with the red platform wasn’t to assign babies jobs as I had thought back then, but to name them by testing their nature.

I wasn't sure how accurate the test was but it still kind of worked out in my favor as people would more so associate me with the warrior archetype, so I didn't really care either.

Over time I also came to learn my parent’s names, my father's as Saruk and my mother's as Lailan.

I presumed that all these names probably had a hidden or deeper meaning behind them, otherwise why test their personalities, but with practically no other information on them I couldn’t conclude what they were.

Moving back to the topic of winter, the majority of this time was spent with the family gathered around the fireplace for warmth while our parents told Armot stories, stories which typically included a surplus of exaggerative comedic movements to keep him entertained.

When that wasn't happening, usually because mother had other matters to attend to, father would spend his time attempting to teach Armot how to use a spear or trying to guide him through what looked like meditation.

Although Armot was very enthusiastic about the training, one could tell just by a glance at father's expression that his performance was less than satisfactory, and sadly that wasn’t all there was to look at if you needed proof.

Within ten minutes of every time father would try to instruct him on a spear form, it would devolve down to Armot wildly swinging at his imaginary foes, and similarly, his take on meditation took drastic detours.

This sort of schedule continued until the end of winter.

The start of the new season was marked by the arrival of a mysterious carriage driven by what looked like two horses covered in green scales.

Apart from the carcasses of animals my father hunted, this was my first time seeing an animal in this world, and the difference was clear.

The dead animals I was used to seeing looked like arboreal creatures that, in all likelihood, could be found on Earth without too much surprise to anyone who saw them, whereas this animal was a whole lot more mystical in its aura and appearance.

Seven people came out of the carriage that was pulled by the green-scaled horses whom the villagers seemed to be familiar with, as evidenced by all the hugging and kissing that commemorated their reunion.

Not everyone was happy at their arrival though.

Some people were crying in despair, yelling, and trying to force their way to the carriage driver before being stopped by other villagers.

Without any sign of emotion or reaction to the volatile villagers, the carriage driver unfurled a rolled-up piece of what looked like parchment and lifted it to his sightline.

The carriage driver continued to stoically announce something that I understood one keyword of:

"Killed"

Before the mysterious wagon left, twelve young men, one of whom I recognized from winning the fighting tournament, entered while giving their final goodbyes to their families and the women they courted.

After seeing all that, I predicted that this would be a scene that was going to repeat itself, only now with different members.

Five more months passed, in other words I had been in this world for a full year.

I could now understand just about all the common words of the village’s language, however I still chose not to reveal any sign of my comprehension to the people around me.

In another three months the festival took place once more, with everything about the festival being pretty much the same except the notable difference of the leader not trying to fight my father this time.

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It left me to believe that the first time was probably a one-time event due to the both of them getting caught up in the heat of the moment, either that or maybe the leader learned his lesson after the last time, who knows.

And then winter was back for the second time in my second life, this time more eventful than the last.

During the second winter, I finally spoke my first words at about 15 months old.

*****

It was a snowy day and the whole family had gathered around the fire.

Just like any other day, time was being passed with stories and this time mother was the storyteller.

She began with the words, "Long ago, there was a time when all of Cazelt was under the control of the Rokalan emperor."

As far as I knew, Cazelt was either the name of their known world or just the name of their landmass, and as for what the Rokalan empire is or who the Rokalan emperor was, I had no clue.

"This was possible because of the first Rokalan emperor, Galmur, a man who was blessed with great talent and great potential from an early age.

He was born into the Roka tribe as the chieftain's son but that didn't mean he got to live an easy life, no.

While the Roka tribe was one of the more larger and powerful ones at the time, they had made far too many enemies under the old chieftain's leadership.

These enemies determined that divided, they would never defeat the Roka tribe, so they joined together in an alliance."

Armot let out a disapproving grumble at hearing that but didn't say anything further.

"To ensure the Roka would be defeated, each member of the alliance planned on sending only their mightiest warriors to fight them.

Days before the attack, the tribes sent a messenger out of courtesy asking for the surrender of the Roka tribe.

The Roka chieftain was a prideful man though, even knowing that chances of victory were slim, he refused to go down without a fight.

Galmur, as his son and more importantly his heir, tried to dissuade him with his best efforts so that the worst possible outcome could be avoided, however the chieftain remained steadfast in his choice.

Sensing the total destruction of the Roka, Galmur escaped the tribe along with his closest companions before the order to attack was given."

At this point in the story Armot interrupted.

"He ran away from a fight? Where’s his honor at!"

Noting the exclamation, father made eye contact with mother before commenting to himself in an exhausted tone, "Wilmar has been spreading his ideas to the kids again."

He turned Armot to face him and imparted some advice, "Listen to me son, there is no benefit to having honor if you do not have your life to enjoy it, and I want you to remember that no matter what anyone else says, do you understand?"

Armot gave a reluctant nod to the advice though he didn't look like he was entirely convinced to follow it, however not wanting further delay due to father's insistence, mother decided to continue the story.

This was not the first time Armot and father had gotten tangled into the topic of honor and it surely wouldn’t have been the last.

"A few days later Galmur received word that the majority of his tribe was brutally slaughtered after suffering an unsurprising loss to the allied tribes which needless to say, left him heartbroken and more importantly, thirsting for revenge.

He was one of the best warriors that the Roka had to offer, which wasn’t just to say he had great physical capabilities, but also mental ones.

He knew there was no chance of him taking on all those tribes at once with just him and his group of few followers, so he had to find other means.

He wanted more power at any cost though he didn't know where to even start, so it is said that he just sat under a tree and thought about it.

Minutes passed without any sign of movement from his body, those minutes eventually turned to hours, and before long days had passed by of him just sitting there.

His companions started to suspect that maybe he had died, considering that they hadn’t seen him move for food nor for water longer than most could stand to take.

Just as they had given up all hope, a glamorous scene unfolded before their very eyes.

An exotic red light started to shine from Galmur's body and the earth all around him shook with great vigor, peaking the wonder of his gathered companions.

It is said that the heavens admired Galmur's dedication so much that they bestowed upon him the power of shensi."

"He became a Shenrin, just like Dad!" Armot excitedly blurted out.

"It'd be more accurate to say I became a Shenrin like him, after all, he was the very first one." Father corrected in an effort to humble his son.

This time though, Armot was not alone in his excitement.

‘This! This was what I so desperately wanted to learn about!’

My whole being rushed with adrenaline as my mind ran wild at the prospect of the information I had just gained, information I had set forward to find ever since witnessing the events of my first festival.

I finally had a clue now on how I could reach that level of power!

It was at this moment that a small habit of mine activated, one that had never caused any issues for me before.

In a moment of inattention, I muttered the word “Shensi” under the guise of my breath, thinking no one else would hear me as I imprinted the word into my mind.

Unfortunately for me though, I was sitting right next to a superhuman.

Although I hadn't confirmed the extent of his abilities and whether it included improved senses, it was still stupid of me to not take precautions, and so I had to face the consequences.

"I think Vaikus just said his first words- or actually word." Father announced with an amazed expression.

I wanted to smack myself over the head hearing him confirm it, but I had already done enough to expose myself as abnormal for today by talking.

"What?!" Both Armot and mother excitedly shouted.

"What did he say? I didn't hear a thing!" Mother followed up.

It was then that suddenly, father's demeanor momentarily darkened from one of amazement to something else entirely.

I could see him discreetly look over to me for a split second before gazing back at mother.

"Actually…” he paused, before giving a confounding response.

“I think I was just hearing things, sorry for riling everyone up."

'...'

'What?'