The first year of Lyrian’s life was both enlightening and frustrating. He found himself caught between two worlds: the physical limitations of his infant body and the vast intellect and knowledge of his previous life. He couldn’t speak yet, but his understanding of the world around him grew quickly. His new parents, Mira and Dorian, doted on him, raising him in a small village nestled within a forest. They seemed to live a simple, peaceful life, but Lyrian could already sense the presence of dangers lurking beyond their village.

At night, he would stare at the wooden beams above his crib, his Eye of Mystics activating at random intervals. When it did, he saw more than just the physical structure of the house; he saw the life within the wood, the mana that ran through the earth beneath them, the invisible energy that permeated everything in this world.

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By his second month, Lyrian discovered something incredible. He could tap into his healing ability, even as a baby. The first time it happened was when Mira, his mother, cut her hand while preparing food. He remembered the panic in her eyes as blood dripped from her palm, and the pain that radiated from her as she hurried to bandage it.

Without thinking, Lyrian had reached out from his crib, his tiny hand glowing faintly. In that moment, he felt a strange warmth flow from his body, and the wound on Mira’s hand closed almost instantly. The look of shock on her face was unforgettable. She had stared at her healed hand in disbelief before looking at him, her eyes wide.

“A miracle…” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes.

From that day onward, his mother treated him as though he were a divine blessing. Word spread through the village that the baby Lyrian was gifted by the gods, though his parents tried to keep his abilities a secret from outsiders. It was too dangerous for anyone to know just how special their son was.