The Rebirth
The gentle, peaceful darkness of the void was suddenly replaced by a shockwave of sensation. Satou's consciousness, which had been a quiet flicker, snapped back into agonizing reality. It wasn't a flash of light, but an unbearable crushing pressure, like being squeezed through a straw. The silence was shattered by a cacophony of muffled, frantic noise that ripped through his ears, followed by the terrifying sensation of cold air striking sensitive, wet skin.
I'm suffocating. I can't breathe. What is this pain?
He tried to push, to fight, to yell, but his limbs were clumsy, his movements pathetic, and the sound that escaped him was not a heroic shout but a thin, rattling cry. He was trapped in a body that was completely alien and utterly helpless.
His eyes, still blurry and unfocused, strained to make sense of the new world. He saw a hazy ceiling, the light of a single, soft, mana-fueled lamp that cast strange, swirling shadows. He was being held by two massive hands. The smell was unfamiliar—of herbs, wet linen, and something uniquely earthy.
He heard a woman's exhausted but relieved voice speaking a language he did not recognize, yet somehow, his consciousness understood.
"He is beautiful," the woman whispered, tears audible in her voice. "Our little Kael. Welcome to Aalkaria."
Kael's vision swam, clearing just enough for him to register the stern, angular face of a man leaning over him—his new father. The man wore a simple, high-collared tunic, but the deep scars and the weight of his steady gaze spoke of a soldier, a guardian.
The family belonged to the Kingdom of Aethelgard, a large, Human-majority nation nestled between the sprawling Veridian Plains and the jagged slopes of the Spine of the World. Aethelgard was a land of strict honor, where the value of a person was measured not just by their Mana Affinity, but by their contributions to the kingdom's defense.
Kael Varrus had been born into a position of privilege. His father, Lord Cassian Varrus, was the head of a minor noble house, governing a crucial border town, his authority resting on his military skill and his powerful Earth Mana Affinity. His mother, Lady Elara Varrus, was the picture of soft-spoken strength, her rare Healing Affinity making her invaluable to the garrison.
As the nurse carefully placed the infant Kael into his mother's arms, his father spoke, his voice a low, gravelly rumble.
"He is small, Elara. But he has the Varrus bone structure. We shall raise him to honor the name. He will be strong, and he will command a powerful Mana Affinity. It is our duty."
It was a statement of expectation, and the gravity of his new life immediately settled over Kael's ancient consciousness. He was no longer just a person; he was an heir, a Human in a world of Dragonborn, Elves, and Beastkin.
So this is it. The new life. I can't speak, can't move, and I'm covered in… well, I'm a baby. Kael tried to clench his fist and failed, his tiny hand flopping uselessly. The Goddess was serious. A whole new start. Lord Kael Varrus. I suppose I'll need to grow up fast if I want to keep that promise to live a good life. But first, I have five years of diapers and baby talk to endure.
Five Years Later
The nursery was gone, replaced by a spacious, sunlit chamber in the Varrus manor. Kael Varrus, now five years old, sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by books that were far too complex for a child his age. His appearance was typical for Aethelgard: dark, straight hair, sharp blue eyes, and a lean build, though he carried the quiet intensity of someone much older.
The last five years had been a constant, frustrating effort to hide his adult mind while learning the fundamentals of Aalkaria. He had mastered the language of Aethelgard and learned to navigate the world of the Varrus house—a world where every child was tested for their Mana Affinity and expected to perform.
Kael's fascination with the world was often a private affair, conducted while his older siblings were preoccupied with their own training.
His eldest brother, Lord Marcus Varrus, was ten years old. Marcus was the picture of a dutiful heir: confident, already skilled with a training sword, and possessing a highly desirable Mana Affinity.
His sister, Lady Lysandra Varrus, was eight. She was quieter than Marcus, but just as focused, often seen near their mother, eagerly learning the fundamentals of Light Mana control and exhibiting a strong, though not yet fully defined, Light Affinity.
As the youngest, Kael often felt less pressure to conform immediately, which gave him the freedom to devour maps and texts about the continent. His home nation of Aethelgard felt small compared to the sheer scope of Aalkaria.
"The Light Elves of the Whispering Forest claim their bloodline dates back to the very dawn of Mana," he mumbled to himself, tracing a finger over an illustrated map showing the Dark Elves and their chaotic neighbors in the Ashlands. He often heard Marcus boasting that the Dragonborn were "all brute strength and no honor," and Lysandra sighing over the thought of the "poor, misguided Beastkin."
Kael, however, was just curious. He had spent hours trying to find a scroll detailing the Dragonborn's architecture in the Spine of the World, imagining structures hewn from mountainsides, and studying the routes the fierce Amazon warriors took across the Golden Desert.
He knew his path was expected to be clear: follow his father, inherit the title after Marcus, and train his inevitable Mana Affinity in defense of Aethelgard. But the more he learned of the Dwarves' deep cities, the terrifying power of the Demons in the east, and the pure wildness of the Monsters that roamed the untamed lands, the more he understood his promise to the goddess could only be fulfilled by stepping out of his noble cradle.
He needed to explore Aalkaria, not just rule a corner of it. But first, he needed to know what his own place in this Mana-defined world would be. The coming day was the annual Mana Affinity Test, and Kael Varrus, the soul of Satou, was about to discover his power, or lack thereof.