As Cosmo and Finn continued talking, the door to the room creaked open, and the entire atmosphere shifted. Finn turned his head just as the rest of the children fell into a hushed, intense silence. All eyes locked onto the doorway where a tall, broad-shouldered man entered. He carried himself with an air of ease, though his presence was commanding, his sharp, weathered face suggesting years of experience.

Cosmo leaped to his feet, grinning wildly. “Get him!” he shouted, breaking the tension like a whip crack.

Before Finn could react, the room exploded into action.

Children who had been casually sitting moments ago now rushed forward, magic erupting from their hands. A boy to Finn’s left thrust out his palm, and a bolt of flame shot toward the man—Alistair, Cosmo had called him. The fire crackled like a whip, but Alistair sidestepped, leaving behind only an afterimage as the firebolt singed past him, leaving a streak of smoke in the air.

Across the room, Nyx, the quiet girl with sharp green eyes, flicked her wrist and sent a gust of wind barreling toward Alistair, carrying bits of paper and dust in its wake. Alistair raised a hand, and the whirlwind dissolved into a harmless breeze before it could even reach him.

Finn stood frozen in awe. It was chaos. Beautiful, exhilarating chaos.

On the far side, a burst of stone shot up from the floor, forming a makeshift wall in front of Alistair, but he leaped over it effortlessly. Before he landed, a child conjured spears of shimmering water that hovered momentarily before hurtling toward their target. With a flick of his wrist, Alistair dispersed the water spears into droplets that fell harmlessly to the ground.

Finn’s heart pounded in his chest as he watched. Real magic. The children were laughing and shouting, casting all sorts of elemental spells—some of which fizzled out before fully forming, but many left bursts of color and light in their wake.

Finn watched as one boy attempted to conjure his own attack, but instead of launching a proper spell, the magic fizzled out mid-air. There was a sudden pop, followed by an explosion of harmless sparks. The boy yelped, startled, and landed flat on his back, his face a mix of embarrassment and surprise.

“Don’t just stand there!” Cosmo called over his shoulder, dodging under a jet of water that splashed against the wall. “This is how we practice!”

“This is practice?” Finn murmured, eyes wide.

Finn could barely believe what he was seeing. The children’s magic was raw, unpolished, but undeniably powerful. His gaze wandered over to Cosmo, who now stood with his arm extended, blue lights dancing around his fingers. The lights formed into a miniature constellation above Cosmo’s head, the stars spinning and swirling as they coalesced into a glowing sphere.

Cosmo hurled the sphere toward Alistair, who simply waved his hand. The stars disintegrated before they could reach him.

“You’re improving, Cosmo,” Alistair said, his voice calm and measured despite the frenetic energy in the room. “But a scattered attack won’t land.”

Cosmo huffed, clearly frustrated, but his grin remained. “Next time, I’ll get you!”

“Perhaps in a few years,” Alistair replied with a small, amused smile.

Finn glanced around and noticed that the room had finally quieted. The children were slumping into chairs or against the walls, exhausted—some of them blinking sleepily, others already drifting off into slumber, their soft snores filling the room.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Alistair, apparently unfazed by the flurry of magic, walked toward Finn, his expression gentle. “Mana fatigue,” he explained, noticing Finn’s wide-eyed stare. “They pushed themselves too hard, and their bodies tire out. Don’t worry, they’ll be fine after some rest.”

Alistair knelt slightly to be at eye level with Finn. “Why don’t we step aside and talk for a moment? There are some things I'm sure you’d like to know.”

Fin followed the large man to a smaller, quieter room nearby, furnished with a simple table and a couple of comfortable chairs. A soft fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the stone walls, which were decorated with paintings of children, adventurers, and various figures Finn didn’t recognize.

Finn sat down, his mind still buzzing from everything he’d just witnessed. His limbs felt shaky—not from exhaustion, but from the excitement of it all. The magic, the kids, Alistair—it was too much to process all at once.

“You probably don’t remember much,” Alistair began, settling into the chair across from him, “but you weren’t always here with us. You spent your first few years in the care of the Church of Life.”

Finn blinked, not sure what to make of what he had been told. “The Church of Life?”

Alistair nodded. “The Goddess of Life and Rebirth. She watches over souls like yours—those who are reborn or granted a second chance. The church is where the youngest are nurtured until they’re ready to live among the rest of the world.”

Finn furrowed his brow. “But why can’t I remember any of that? I don’t remember learning the language, but I can speak it?”

“That’s common with rebirth,” Alistair said with a reassuring smile. “It takes time for your soul to fully bind to your new body. During the first few years, your mind and soul are adjusting—figuring out how to connect. It’s like how a newborn baby develops its sense of self. You’ve been going through something similar, except for you, it took around three years.”

Finn nodded, although his mind raced. “So… I’ve just been adjusting this whole time?”

“Exactly. That’s why you don’t have clear memories of the Church or of anything that came before. But it’s not something to worry about. As you grow, everything will feel more… solid.”

Alistair paused, as if weighing his next words carefully. “Now, there’s something important you need to understand, Finn. I don’t know who you were before—not your age, race, your life experiences. I’m forbidden from asking, actually. That’s a rule enforced by the Goddess of Life herself.”

Finn frowned. “Why?”

Alistair’s expression turned dark. “There are people out there who seek reincarnated souls for the wrong reasons,” Alistair explained, his voice dropping slightly. “Some mages believe reincarnated souls hold secret knowledge—things from other worlds or lifetimes that could be used for their own gain. Others might want to experiment on you, to force memories out or tap into powers they think you have.”

Finn’s stomach churned as the implications sank in. “So… I need to keep quiet?”

Alistair nodded gravely. “Yes. It’s best if you don’t speak about your past life to anyone, even if bits and pieces come back. You’re Finn now, and it’s important that you live your life in this world, with the people around you. Just… be careful.”

Finn sat in silence, his mind swirling with a thousand unspoken questions. He wanted to know more—why he was reincarnated, what his past life was like—but it seemed those answers would have to wait.

Sensing the heaviness of the conversation, Alistair leaned back in his chair and smiled softly. “Here, let’s lighten things up a bit. How about I show you something?”

With a simple wave of his hand, Alistair conjured a small orb of shimmering light. It hovered between them, casting a soft glow that reflected in Finn’s wide eyes.

“This is basic light magic,” Alistair explained. “Every mage has an affinity for one or more elements. Some kids, like Nyx, have wind as their affinity, others like Cosmo have something a bit more… cosmic.”

“And you?” Finn asked, eyes glued to the glowing orb.

“Light,” Alistair replied. “My affinity is light magic. It’s useful for seeing in dark places, but it’s also versatile in combat. I can bend light, shape it, even use it to heal minor wounds.”

He held out his hand, and the orb split into several smaller lights, floating like fireflies around the room. “Magic is a tool, Finn. It can be used to protect, to heal, or

to destroy. It all depends on the person wielding it.”

Finn stared at the lights in awe, feeling a deep, growing desire to learn more. To understand it. To wield it himself.

Achievement Unlocked

As Finn sat there, absorbing everything Alistair had told him, the now familiar screen appeared in his vision.

Achievement unlocked: “Find Your Place” – Complete.

You have discovered that navigating the world as a child is both confusing and potentially dangerous. Also, try not to become a magical experiment. Nobody likes being dissected.

Reward: One (1) Blank Journal.

Perfect for jotting down your existential crises, wild theories, or doodles of…doodles.

As if on cue, a soft thunk echoed in the room, and a leather-bound journal plopped lamely on the table in front of him.

Alistair and Finn both lowered their gazes to the journal now laying on the table.

Alistair raised an eyebrow at the sudden appearance of the journal. “Well,” he muttered, glancing at the journal, “that’s new.”