At the time I was confused. (What was that all about, I died forty-nine times!? I thought this was some kind of otaku hell, but it just turns out I’m a disaster magnet! Not to mention, what the heck was that achievement crap about? If I didn’t know better, I would have thought God is the CEO and Chairman of Macrohard, but that can’t be right since that’s an Earth company.) It took a while for me to calm myself; however, before I came to terms with this darkness, I was foisted into another life.
“Congrats, Anna. It’s a healthy baby boy!! What shall be his name?”
“Yuriy, named after my ancestor, Grand Enchanter Yuriy Markov! May my little Yuriy bring glory to our family!”
(Hold up! Did this broad just call me Yuriy Markov? As in grand-uncle Yuriy!?!?) I always thought he was really drunk or smoking them rocks when he went on his tangents. There’s one story I’ll never forget. Whenever I asked grand-uncle Yuriy how he and grand-aunt Katya survived Holodomor since at that time both had been married at the ripe old age of 15, he would always say,
“Little Yuriy, (that’s what he called me since I was named after him) Let me tell you a secret! This is not the first life I’ve lived. My last life, I was a great sorcerer a lot like Rasputin only without the four failed execution attempts and the dark past. The magic I used created a barrier over our thatch cottage and land. To the Soviets, all they saw were trees and fowl lands. One day, I will teach you a thing or two… wink.”
(I guess this would explain it, but it doesn’t make any sense, since there’s no such thing as magic on Earth. Or maybe, it was told to the masses as a way to hide the existence of magic? Still, there’s no way this is true. I must be in hell or some kind of sick dream!!) Noticing my upset demeanor, a male voice spoke up,
“Anna, little Yuriy looks hungry,”
The doctor(?) said. I’ve never seen a doctor like this fellow. He had no gloves or facemask and looked like he came from a cultivation novel with his black silk robes embroidered with golden dragons around his cuffs and around his waist. He even had a golden hair tie only royals within the Han Dynasty would wear. (Please dear God, don’t tell me this is a cultivation world!?!? I can’t stand the unreasonable decision making, the “your courting death,” the unnecessary grievances over stupid things and other nonsense. Those guys are complete madmen.)
“Come here my little Yuyu, let mommy feed you.”
The woman… Anna said, as she brought me closer to her now bare breast. At first I just stared blankly, but then snapped out of it. (Hey lady, I don’t know you, and my habit of putting random titties in my mouth got me into loads of trouble! I only do it when I’m gonna sleep with a woman. You're beautiful and all, but you're gonna need to take me on a date first before I put those jugs in my mouth.)
“What’s wrong, my little Yuyu, are you not hungry?”
Anna asked as if she knew I could understand her; mother’s intuition I guess, or maybe my face since I was scowling at her. If I could, I would have shaken my head no or just said no, but I was too tired for all that. I guess she knew my answer, seeing how I closed my eyes to sleep. At that moment, I heard that noise again,
“Congratulations!! You’ve unlocked the achievement; Baby, my Baby! Since you survived more than 10 minutes after being born/inhabiting a vacant body (Finally!!) and even denied initial breastfeeding”.
(Shut up, Wsphere online achievement message. This better not be what that admin dude was saying he’ll give me, or I’m complaining to the top!)
“You’ve received a message for your designated administrator Uriel”
“No, the achievement system is not that special something since everyone I manage to get it. And I dare you to complain. Go on! You’re gonna wish you’d never been born a 50th time.”
(Not cool reading my mind, admin. That’s invasion of privacy! I don’t recall saying I agree to your terms and conditions! Whatever, I’ll deal with you when I wake up.)
And so, my new life began. In this new world I go by my grand-uncle's name, Yuriy Markov XV and am the second male child of my parents Anna Markov and Johanne (Jo cuz I’m rude) Von Engelberg. Apparently, only the first male child takes on the father’s surname. All other male children take on their mother’s family name.
This is to ensure the lineages of each family continues to be passed down through the generations. Or so I was told by my parents. It was at the age of 2, my parents decided to relay this knowledge to me given I was a “highly active and well-mannered” toddler.
From the moment I could walk, I would always be seen in my father’s study. Even now as a 6-year-old, I just can’t get enough of this place. The smell of leather-bound books and oakish(?) wood furniture always reminded me of grand-uncle Yuriy’s little cabin he called the “secret cave.”
That cabin was filled to the brim with books and oak furniture. The rustic smell of the place was mystifying by nature and made one never want to leave. Or at least I never wanted to leave the place. You see… My family had many traditions which made one wanna hide in any secret place.
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The Markov family before Stalin and the Soviets, were people who always held family and God above all else. Therefore, children from between ages 3 and 12 would spend 2 to 3 months out of the year with the family patriarch and matriarch. The 14-year-olds had to undergo a rite of passage and thus travel between family homes and villages until they reached 15. And at 15, the family viewed one as an adult in which they were allowed to marry, build their own home and so on.
Additionally, the adult children of the family would rotate 6 months out of the year and live with the patriarch and matriarch even if they were married with kids. They, their spouse, and their children would go and live with the patriarch and matriarch. This had been a family tradition since the 1500s (or so Uncle Yuriy would claim). Uncle would sometimes say,
“Before, malyy (малий = little) Yuriy… There used to be a total of 62 households in the Markov family. Each was made up of four generations of Markov’s all spread across Ukraine. I and your didusʹ (дідусь = grandfather) would have been the fifth.”
It was to be so, until 1932 the Soviets committed mass genocide in Ukraine leading almost all of the family to their grave. The whole family except my granddad, grand-uncle and grand-aunt died either at gunpoint or starved slowly. Their survival, a work of magic to say the least.
Years later despite such atrocities, both Uncle Yuriy and granddad fought with the Soviets alongside the Yanks in WW2. At the time Uncle Yuriy was 24 and granddad was 21. They fought in the hope the Soviets would leave our homeland alone since that’s what was promised. Instead, they received praise and invitations from the Yanks, yet only empty unfulfilled promises came from the Soviets. In response, grandad decided to go to the US after the war, whereas Uncle Yuriy always said,
“The soil of my homeland is where my roots lay, and where they shall stay.”
Granddad eventually met Grandma Martha and had my dad and his six brothers and sisters. Of course, they had followed our families tradition even more fervently than before. Thus, granddad and company would spend time with Uncle Yuriy and Aunt Katya and their five children.
Many years later, I was the only child born of my parents. Still, when it was time for me to follow tradition, I somehow convinced my dad to let me spend more time with Uncle Yuriy. So instead of being in the US, I spent most of my childhood in Ukraine, until I was 14-years-old, of course.
Now that I mention it, I don’t recall mom’s family having this type of tradition or any traditions for that matter, only disquieted shame. My mother, Samantha Lysenko, a descendent of Ukrainian composer Mykola Lysenko did not share the same feelings for Ukraine as Uncle Yuriy. Mom was Afro-Ukrainian so naturally she didn’t have the same feelings.
Like granddad, her family too moved to the US, or rather secretly fled to the US. At first mom used to say grandma Rada as a young girl was afraid of Americans because they thought everyone who spoke Ukrainian were Russian/Red spies and not refugees fleeing the Soviets. But that changed after WW2, Grandma Rada as a young woman warmed up to the Yanks and even had few flings (apparently she like having brothas’ as bed fellows).
Although she would not mention much, mom’s dad was a black man who after attempting to openly marry grandma Rada, died at the hands of American Racism when mom was a little girl. Mom once mentioned, as a child, Grandma Rada would put very pale makeup on her to hide mom’s skin and made her wear clothes that always hid her limbs.
Nonetheless, with her cinnamon brown skin and extra curly hair, many people would shame grandma and mom for having anything to do with the n*g**rs. It wasn’t until mom was an adult, grandma Rada disowned mom for some reason, but mom never said. When asked, her always bright eyes would dim, and cloud over whenever asked about it. All I know, Grandma Rada died in Ukraine in 2021 without any mention of children or grandchildren…
“Man, I love this smell. Uncle Yuriy, I hope you're in a better place with Aunt Katya.”
I said to myself while studying my (now) dad’s almost endless archive of this world’s knowledge. For starters, this world is known as Ohmdorra which is a fantasia world of swords, magic, and everything else D&D. Like most fantasia-based worlds, Ohmdorra didn’t have any firearms or steam powered industrial technology. It was almost like living in a world before the dark age. The major difference, however, was the existence of magic!
For the most part, 1 out of every 1 billion people were born without magic ability; therefore, everyone either pursued power themselves or raised their children for this pursuit or sometime both or neither. Even though there are billions upon billions of people in this world, not everyone uses magic even if they have the ability to. A lot like Earth, Not everyone drives even though they are of age and can.
In case someone doesn’t want to use magic, they can always pursue power with their physical prowess. Though, there will always be those who don’t use magic, nor physical strength to gain power, but by networking, or scheming.
Anyway, in this world there are two common paths to take for those seeking power; The way of the Arcane and the way of the Battlemaster. The way of the Arcane was divided into many classes or schools, yet the levels of progression stayed the same. According to dad’s books the levels of mages are Fledgling mage, Acolyte, Novice, Apprentice, Journeyman, Expert, and Master.
A Fledgling mage is someone who can sense magical energy called magoi and learns to interact with magoi. An Acolyte channels magoi into their body to temper their organs. A Novice is someone who has absorbed enough magoi into themselves and gave birth to the magical organ known as a mage core.
An Apprentice uses their mage core to house the absorbed magoi and tune it to their school of the arcane. Depending on the school, the Apprentice will need to create auxiliary cores which are smaller mage cores to house the different elemental magoi. Example a Primal Apprentice focuses on channel the forces of nature and need to have a mage core of nature and auxiliary cores of Earth, Wind, Fire, and Water. Later, an Apprentice will need to learn and master an arcane art.
A Journeyman is one who has mastered at least their initial arcane art and begin to embody said art. Example a Fire Journeyman needs to change at will any body part into fire without dissipating and revert back to their normal form. This is called Arcane possession. Sadly, dad does not have any info on Expert and Master Arcanists. It’s said mages are very secretive of their knowledge and only provide knowledge to those either at their level or to those who have signed a soul binding contract with them.
-End of Chapter