When Finn woke the next morning, he lay still for a moment, staring up at the wooden beams overhead. His thoughts were jumbled, memories of the previous day swirling like scattered leaves in the wind. Magic.

The thought brought a small, excited grin to his face. He had seen real magic. But there had been more—Alistair’s warning echoed in his mind about the dangers of being used for experiments if anyone found out about his reincarnation.

His sharp mind, still adjusting to the awkwardness of his three-year-old body, struggled to sift through everything he’d been told. It was overwhelming—the idea of rebirth, the knowledge that he had died. His breath caught as a thought hit him hard: he would never see his mom or dad again.

That thought settled in his chest like a stone. He froze, the weight of it pressing down on him, and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe. The finality of it was brutal. His parents—who had they been? He grasped for memories, trying to pull them into focus. But as he reached deeper, a sudden, terrifying realization struck him.

He couldn’t remember their faces.

A cold pit formed in his stomach, growing larger with each passing second. He frantically searched his thoughts, but it was like chasing smoke—his mind drew a blank. Not their faces. Not their names. His hands clenched the blankets, his small fingers trembling. How could he have forgotten something so important? The people who had brought him into the world, raised him, loved him… they were slipping away, like they’d never existed.

A wave of grief washed over him, tightening his chest. His parents, the world he came from—all of it was gone. And worse, the details were fading. He had no anchor to the life he had once lived.

His eyes stung, but he blinked hard, pushing the tears back. The thoughts swirled, threatening to drown him, but there were other things, too, equally disorienting. The Church of Life—that’s where he’d spent his early years, under the watch of the Goddess who oversaw rebirth. But even those memories felt distant, blurred. And then there was the journal—the strange “reward” given by the User Interface that had appeared in his vision like some kind of game mechanic.

He took a shaky breath, his heart still heavy. Everything felt like pieces of a puzzle that didn’t fit together, but at least he had something—small, scattered bits of information to cling to in this unfamiliar world.

Finn sat up, the soft blankets pooling around him. His small hands flexed, still feeling foreign to him. His eyes wandered to the desk, where the plain, leather-bound journal sat atop it, looking as mundane as ever.

“Is there really nothing special about that journal?” he muttered, half-expecting the Interface to respond.

Nothing.

“Keep your secrets, then,” Finn muttered under his breath.

He sighed and glanced around the room. Cosmo was still buried under his covers in the bunk next to him, only his messy hair peeking out from the top.

“Keep what a secret, Finn?” came Cosmo’s muffled voice as he stirred.

“Nothing. Just talking to myself,” Finn replied quickly, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He didn’t want to accidentally blurt out something about reincarnation again, especially after Alistair’s warning.

Cosmo, apparently not one to let things drop, popped his head up fully, squinting at Finn with curiosity. But Finn was already moving, deciding it was better to keep busy than to answer more questions.

The room they shared was simple but cozy. A small hearth, now just a soft glow of embers from the night before, radiated warmth that made it tempting to stay in bed. A plain desk and chair sat in the corner, but Cosmo’s proudly displayed painting of a forest gave the stone walls a personal touch. The space felt warm and lived-in—a far cry from the confusing, dreamlike haze Finn had woken up to when he first arrived in this new world.

“Let’s get going,” Cosmo said, hopping out of bed and pulling on his clothes. “Breakfast time! You’ll love it here—sometimes we even get extra tasty food donated by the Adventurer’s Guild!”

Finn’s stomach rumbled at the mention of food, and he hurried after Cosmo, who had already taken off running to the dining hall.

As Cosmo threw open the large but surprisingly light doors to the orphanage’s dining hall, Finn was inundated by the lively chatter of children. Roughly fifty kids, from Finn’s guess, bustled about, grabbing trays of food and finding seats at long wooden tables. Some were older, maybe four or five, but they all shared the same sense of camaraderie.

Finn followed Cosmo to the breakfast line, his eyes widening as he took in the variety of food laid out before them. Eggs, bread, and fruit—all familiar. But then there was the meat, shimmering faintly with a strange iridescent glow. It was as if the magic running through it gave it life, even after it had been cooked.

“What… is that?” Finn asked, wrinkling his nose slightly as he grabbed his tray.

Cosmo grinned as he piled some onto his plate. “That? Magic beast meat. The Adventurer’s Guild brings it in after their hunts. It’s supposed to make you stronger or something. Tastes a little funky, though.”

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

Finn eyed the glowing meat warily. He wasn’t sure if “funky” was encouraging or not, but he took a small serving and followed Cosmo to an open spot at one of the long wooden tables.

As they sat down, a few other kids slid onto the benches around them. Finn noticed they all seemed to know each other well, even the older kids. Cosmo leaned over and whispered, “Don’t worry, they’re cool.”

The conversation flowed easily as the children dug into their food. Finn was too focused on his first bite of the magic beast meat to join in right away. It tasted a bit like beef, but with a strange tingling aftertaste that made his tongue feel slightly numb. He wasn’t sure whether he liked it or not, but he kept eating anyway, listening to the chatter around him.

“I can’t wait until I’m old enough to go out on quests,” one boy declared, puffing out his chest with pride. He had messy black hair and a wide, eager grin that made Finn think of a puppy. “I’m gonna be the best adventurer ever, just like my parents were. They fought a drake once, you know.”

Finn raised an eyebrow. “A drake?”

“Yeah!” The boy’s eyes lit up. “Huge, fire-breathing lizard. My parents killed it together and brought its head back to the Guild. I’ve seen the skull!”

Cosmo snickered. “You’re always telling us that story, Lio. You better live up to it when it’s your turn.”

Lio shrugged, undeterred. “I will. Just watch.”

Across from them, a girl with long braided hair, who had been quietly poking at her food, chimed in. “I don’t want to fight monsters. I’m going to be an apot—apothecary,” she said with a soft smile. “Mixing potions, healing people—it sounds… nice.”

Finn glanced at her, intrigued. “You don’t want to be an adventurer?”

She shook her head, the braids swaying as she spoke. “Not really. Too dangerous. I’d rather help people without, you know, stabbing.” She smiled shyly. “I’m Talia, by the way.”

“Finn,” he said, returning the smile. “Apothecary sounds interesting.”

“Oh, it is,” she replied, her eyes lighting up. “I’ve been learning all about herbs and different magical ingredients. Potions that heal wounds super fast, creams that cure diseases, even brews that can enhance your magic. It’s like a different kind of magic, but one you make with your hands.”

As Finn and Talia chatted about potions, the boy next to Talia smirked and called out, “Uh-oh, looks like Finn and Talia are brewing more than just potions! Better watch out, or they’ll be caught kissing under a magic tree!”

Cosmo jumped in, grinning wickedly. “Yeah, next thing you know, they’ll be casting love spells on each other!”

“Ooooooo,” everyone chimed together.

The group burst into laughter, and even Talia blushed slightly, rolling her eyes. “You’re all ridiculous,” she muttered, though a small smile tugged at her lips.

Finn, on the other hand, felt his face flush as he quickly tried to change the subject. “I—uh, was just asking about herbs!”

The teasing didn’t stop there, though, as Cosmo leaned in with a grin. “Sure you were, Finn, sure you were.”

To Finn’s relief, the boy who had made the joke—Wren, with sandy blonde hair and a mischievous grin—was quickly distracted as the conversation shifted back to trades.

“My brother says the Guild teaches you all sorts of trades once you’re six. Like smithing, enchanting, or even becoming a beast tamer!” Wren added excitedly. “I’m gonna work with magical creatures. They’re way cooler than regular animals.”

Cosmo chuckled, rolling his eyes. “You just want an excuse to have a pet drake, don’t you, Wren?”

Wren laughed. “Maybe. But I’ll settle for a griffon.”

As the group laughed and chatted, Finn sat back, contemplating their dreams. Adventurers, potions, quests—everything about this world seemed so much bigger than he’d imagined. And yet, these kids, not much older than him, already had their futures mapped out. Even at such a young age, they were driven by their dreams.

Nyx, the quiet girl with sharp green eyes, had been sitting at the far end of the table, mostly silent as the others talked. Finn had seen her during the chaos the day before, using wind magic with ease. She didn’t join the conversation, but every so often, her eyes flickered toward them, listening.

As breakfast wrapped up, Cosmo tapped Finn’s arm. “Hey, we’re supposed to do chores after breakfast. They split us into teams—sometimes it’s fun, sometimes it’s just boring. But I bet they’ll let you join our group today.”

Finn nodded, finishing his food as the rest of the kids began to clear their plates. He followed Cosmo back to the tray line, casting another glance at the shimmering meat. Perhaps he’d get used to it.

After breakfast, the children all gathered in the common room for their morning chores. Despite the mundane tasks—dusting, sweeping, tidying up—the staff at Hearthstone always found a way to make it entertaining. The chores were framed as a game, with teams competing to finish first. A chart on the wall displayed team rankings, and a small prize awaited the winners.

Finn followed Cosmo as they were assigned to the group responsible for sweeping and dusting. He watched with a mix of curiosity and nervousness, unsure of how he would measure up.

“Everyone’s gotta help out,” Cosmo explained, gesturing toward the kids who had already started. “It’s fair, though. We all get to use magic to help. Well, most of us, anyway.”

Finn blinked, not quite understanding what he meant—until he saw it in action.

Talia, the girl who had talked about becoming an apothecary, raised her hand and whispered something under her breath. Immediately, the broom she was holding began to sweep on its own, gliding across the floor effortlessly. The movement was smooth, controlled, and clearly the result of well-practiced magic.

“See?” Cosmo grinned, nudging Finn. “That’s how we do it here!”

Finn stared in awe as the others followed suit. Nyx flicked her wrist, and a gust of wind shot from her fingertips, blowing dust into neat little piles. Wren, the boy who had teased Finn earlier, summoned a small wave of water that swept across the floor, gathering dust and dirt into a corner. Once collected, Wren made a quick gesture, and the water vanished, leaving the pile of dirt ready to be swept away.

Finn’s eyes darted around the room, impressed by the magical teamwork. The kids were laughing, competing to see who could clean the fastest while showing off their abilities. One boy even conjured tiny sparks of fire to dry the floor after Wren’s water magic.

Meanwhile, Finn was stuck with an ordinary broom. He gripped the handle tightly, dragging it across the floor, watching enviously as the others finished their tasks with ease. Their magic made the work look effortless.

“I really wish I could do that,” Finn muttered under his breath, struggling to sweep a corner where the dust refused to cooperate.

Cosmo, ever the optimist, grinned at him. “Don’t worry. You’ll learn eventually. We all start somewhere. Besides, you’ve only just got here! Give it time.”

Despite Cosmo’s encouragement, Finn couldn’t help but feel left out as he watched the others complete their tasks in half the time it took him.

Finally, once all the teams had finished their chores, one of the staff members—an older woman named Miss Evelyn, who managed most of the day-to-day activities—clapped her hands, signaling the end of their race.

“Alright, children! Let’s see how everyone did,” she said with a warm smile.

The teams lined up, waiting for the results. Finn’s group had finished last, mostly due to his slower, non-magical approach, but he tried not to feel too disappointed. After all, it wasn’t like he could help it.

Miss Evelyn waved her hand, and a large wooden box appeared beside her. “Today’s winning team is… the Wind Sweepers!”

Nyx’s team cheered as they were declared the winners, and Miss Evelyn opened the box, revealing their prize: small, enchanted trinkets—glow stones that flickered softly like fireflies in a jar. They weren’t anything powerful, but they were fun to have, and the kids accepted them eagerly.

“For the rest of you,” Miss Evelyn said, her eyes twinkling, “don’t feel too bad. You all worked hard today, so everyone gets a little something.”

She reached into the box again and pulled out a handful of colorful candies. Each piece shimmered faintly, infused with the tiniest hint of magic. The children’s faces lit up as they received their treats, even those who hadn’t won.

Finn gratefully accepted his piece of candy, turning it over in his hand. It wasn’t a glowing stone, but the candy sparkled in the light. When he popped it into his mouth, it tingled on his tongue, like a burst of warmth and sweetness mixed with the faintest trace of magic.

Cosmo, always eager to brighten the mood, nudged Finn. “See? Told you it’s not so bad. Plus, this candy has a little kick to it!”

Finn chuckled despite himself. “Yeah, I guess it’s not so bad.”

As the children enjoyed their prizes, the room began to settle down. Finn found himself reflecting on the day so far.

Sure, he wasn’t casting spells like the others—yet. But he was part of this world now, and the sense of camaraderie, even in something as simple as chores, made him feel like he belonged.

There was no division—no age, skin color, or gender that separated them. Everyone treated each other respectfully, the honest, good-hearted nature of children shining through.

Tomorrow, he decided, he would have to try even harder. He would watch the others, learn from them, and maybe, just maybe, find a way to unlock the magic inside him.

For now, though, he would take the small victories.