By the end of the day, I had settled into the tribe’s routine. I ate, slept, and let myself drift into dreams about fire and destruction, burning kingdom in another world.

The days passed, winter drew closer and closer, and my memories solidified, I explored my past finally remembering what was forgotten, The memory is still hazy, but it is clearer now that I am not just a normal tribesman.

The internal conflict was there, but I handled it by keeping busy. Slowly, the prince's identity took hold, and the boy faded into the background. But there were moments when both merged, leaving me unsure of which personality was truly mine.

Then I discovered the joy of mana manipulation. For the first time in my life, I felt real magic flow through me effortlessly.

In my past life I never had a real Aura Manifestation yet here even with my aura still young and unignited, I begin to sense and manipulate mana more consciously. Causing minor magical effects, such as levitating a small stone when no one was looking or generating heat to fight off the bitter cold.

A new life where magic flows within me. I was elated, my mind flooded with endless possibilities for spells I can do in this life.

Sitting on surprisingly comfortable rock outside the cave, I watched the tribe. I just looked at the people, and wondered at my good or bad luck.

I watched the tribe with my new eyes, the eyes of an adult with different prospective, the eyes of a man who knew a better life—saw the primitives around me.

I know a better way of life and I want it back. As I watched I started to see a pattern, a non-complex society similar to chimpanzee basic rules of life with extra-steps.

The people around me looked like normal people they just had shitty taste in clothing, It's as if someone took the city folk to the forest undressed them, made them forget all the decorum and civilized decency learned in the city, and left them to make fur clothing from anything they can kill.

There are social rules everyone is expected to follow. Yet people don't always do so, and here the violation of group norms, or the defying of authority, is accompanied by what seem to be pain or extreme pain, it all depends on what was done, and your position in the tribe can help you do what others can't.

It was like watching animals play at being human. No decorum, no civilization. Just survival, just hunger.

‘Shiiiit’, Why wasn't I born in better era?, and why is the ambient mana feel as if it's low?, is it low?, or I just think it is because now I have a better aura?.

If there is something wrong with the mana then I am cursed with bad luck, or not. My aura is stronger and I love it. It will take time for me to build the reflexes necessary to control my aura, After all its just another body with in my body.

My mind was drowning in questions.

I took a deep breath and enjoyed the moment, a new life where magic flows within me effortlessly, this joy can never get old. My new aura powers will be strong when fully ignited, Yeah my body is suffering from bad nutrition, but that can be fixed, with bit more gold.

I made mental list of all the nutrition I may need for my body, and aura.

If am cursed to live with primitives, then I must get some power, am in a time full of the deadliest predators in history, and primitive rules, a time when people haven't even figured out how to form mana cores, or use mana stones, or toilet_paper.

Am in time before the mana_stone_age, in my old world history the mana_stone_age era was a time when people used mana stones to advance there magic, here I haven't seen any mana stones.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

The best they could do with mana was build a simple aura, it's an accidental and dangerous aura manipulation, no skill or guidance, just fallowing there fear and anger to use there aura, an instinctive Self-defense.

That's like building muscle from punching people every day. Makes no sense.

"Dragon-shit", I cursed under my breath.

And It's cold, very cold as if it's the end or start of an ice age, am not sure, I just know that this area is cold, very cold at night.

I have been born stuck between a rock and a hard place. With A better body then my old one but still stuck in primitive time.

I looked at the cave entrance, I didn’t like what I was seeing, the only thing Barricading us from death is wood and smoke. And what is outside at night?.

FUCK.

The good news I don’t need to learn the language, it's already in my head with this strong familiarity of my surroundings.

And I know how to use this body and the magic aura it has, even if it feels wrong like having extra skin, still it feels familiar.

Better than my past aura, actually it so much better, Worth dying for?, no, not yet, but it will be when I start building it up.

I took a deep breath, pushing aside the frustration. My aura was stronger now, and that was all that mattered. I would learn to control it, refine it, and make it the strongest this world had ever seen.

My eyes moved around looking at the people, at the night watchers.

The people are bunch fucking uncivilized savages, there simplicity makes them more dangerous, because of a lack of resources there constant hunger, and ability to do anything with no limits, no mental blocks like honor, or morality.

I need to get stronger and quickly, not just to keep safe from the predators but to be safe from the most dangers thing on this world,,, people.

It's a fact that ancient people were very cruel, that's why people gather in groups, not just to fight nature but also each-other, groups like this small but powerful community.

Cruelty and humanity go hand in hand, The cold and hunger didn’t help. They had,,, have their own standards of behavior, I must remember that am not prince anymore there is no decorum.

There was still a tremendous degree of variability but, these ancient people are quite caring toward their tribe-mates, so I need to play on there feeling of belonging, on the blood relative non-relative mindset, I must be a part of the tribe, play on there greed and emotions, be liked, loved, be a politician with big fist to handle my critics.

Sitting on rock I brooded on my shitty luck, and on what I must do, until voice interrupted me.

My thoughts were interrupted by one of the hunters barking at me. “Hey, boy go make some rope don't just sit there looking at us, wasting the light”.

It was one of the hunters.

“Oh yes I will start just planing a better way to do it.”

“Plan with your hands, work boy, don’t just sit there! Make yourself useful.”

He had point all I can do is embrace the madness, and live on.

People were moving about.

The men had already taken out their stone tools for grinding so it’d be more convenient the next time they went hunting with already sharpened stone knives and spears. The women too had their own work—sewing hides, drying foods, etc.

As for me, like I said before when in foper do as foper's do.

Time to finish an idea I had.

My mother went with the women to gather plants to mix with the meat in the pots tonight.

I had an idea on what to do to fix my lonely wolf problem. And I took the opportunity to execute my plan.

I grabbed my heavy winter gear, winter thick fur jacket, good winter pants and full head mask, I choose a large pot, and headed toward the Pain Trees—an area known for its deadly beehives.

The Pain trees where in the area all the kids were told to stay away from, one of the trees had a big beehive.

The tribe harvested honey from these hives only when desperate, as the bees were fast and aggressive. But I had a plan.

The hunters usually knock down the hives and make a beeline out of the area, yet the bees where fast, and it was a deadly encounter, the survivors return when the bees had dispelled.

The honey harvesting was only done when necessary, when the hunger was too much. Or an idiot was trying to prove his manhood was bigger than everyone else.

I gathered dry grass and long wooden sticks, and made several torches, I started small fire that made so much smoke it almost killed me, and went into the area holding torches.

I placed multiple torch's around a tree, As I approached, and watched the insects abandoned their hives.

It worked—mostly. A few brave bees stung me, ME the smoke maker, but the thick fur protected me from the worst of it. I ignored those rebel scums, and filled my big pot full of honey and wax.

I didn't take it all the hive was big, yet I wanted it to stay alive for my next harvest.

I looked at the honey, our tribe protects this place from any strangers, and we all know its location is a carefully guarded secret.

Collecting it is considered an act of bravery and desperation.

I made sure that no fire will spread and burn the forest. And went home to finish my work.

It is a lot of work.

I would need to strengthen my aura, build connections within the tribe, and gain influence. This was no place for morality or weakness. I would play on their emotions, manipulate their greed, and position myself as an essential part of the group.

And I’d need to work quickly.