Sleep released me gradually, like a fog lifting from a morning field. My tiny body stirred, eyelids fluttering against the soft light filtering through the window. The room came into focus piecemeal—the wooden beams overhead, etched with faint protective runes that glowed subtly in the afternoon sun; the stone hearth where embers still crackled, releasing a faint, comforting smoke; bundles of herbs swaying gently from the rafters, their earthy aroma mingling with the lingering scent of boiled grains from earlier.
Day 1 of New Bloom, Year 542. The knowledge sat in my mind like an unshakeable fact, part of the invisible weave the patrons had promised. But my body didn't care about calendars or eras. It demanded attention—hunger gnawed at my stomach, a sharp, insistent pull that overrode everything. I opened my mouth to call out, but what emerged was a weak, gurgling cry. Pathetic.
Hungryalready? my thoughts grumbled. This vessel's got the appetite of a black hole. At least on Earth, I could grab a snack myself.
Mira appeared almost instantly, her face lighting with that instinctive maternal joy. She scooped me up from the cradle—a simple wooden bassinet lined with soft wool—and held me close. Her skin was warm, scented faintly with lavender from the herbs she'd been handling. "There, there, little Hiro. Mama's here."
She adjusted her blouse and guided me to nurse, the motion natural and soothing. As the milk flowed—rich, faintly sweet with a hint of something herbal—I focused on the sensation. It wasn't just sustenance; there was a subtle undercurrent, a tingle that spread through me like warmth from a gentle fire. Mana? The world's essence infusing even the basics of life?
Elias watched from the table, where he was carving a small wooden toy—a crude figure of a warrior, perhaps for me in the future. His hands moved with practiced ease, the scars on his knuckles catching the light. "He's got an appetite. Good sign for a growing boy. Remember how you were after your first big quest, Mira? Ate like a beast folk after hibernation."
She laughed softly, rocking me. "Hush, you'll scare him. Though with the New Bloom blessings, who knows? The midwives said the mana flow is strong this year—crops blooming early, beasts calmer. Our Hiro might have a touch of it already."
I listened, piecing together more of this world. NewBloom: The renewal phase, perfect for beginnings. Their casual talk of mana and quests confirmed what the Stars had implied—Elysara was alive with magic, woven into daily rhythms. No wonder the air hummed faintly, like a distant beehive. It was everywhere, brushing against my skin, waiting to be tapped.
As I fed, I tested my limits again. My arms waved clumsily, fingers grasping at air. Vision sharpened slowly—details emerging: The Hestia shrine in the corner, a small stone altar with an eternal flame flickering blue-tinged, radiating a protective warmth that eased my discomfort. Outside the window, the village stirred: Villagers in simple tunics tending fields, a beast folk trader (furred ears twitching) bartering at the market with copper coins glinting in the sun. No cars, no phones—just people, nature, and that ever-present mana shimmer.
This is real, I thought, a mix of awe and exasperation. No turning back. But stuck like this? How long until I can even hold a spoon? The sarcasm bubbled up, a defense against the vulnerability. World-famous chef, starting from milk. At least it's organic.
Mira finished feeding me and burped me gently over her shoulder—a humiliating necessity that made me inwardly cringe. "There we go. Feel better?" She carried me to the window once again, pointing out. "Look, Hiro. Your home. Eldoria Village—safe under the Stars' watch. One day, you'll run those fields, maybe even adventure like your father."
Elias joined us, his large hand resting on Mira's shoulder. "Or weave spells like your mother. Whatever path, we'll guide you." His voice carried a quiet strength, the kind forged in battles long past.
Their words stirred something in me—gratitude, perhaps, for this gentle start. On Earth, I'd been alone in my struggles after my parents' accident. Here, I had a foundation. But the adult in me chafed at the dependence.
Guide me? I need to guide myself. Get moving, body.
As if in answer, a faint shimmer appeared at the edge of my vision—like a heads-up display materializing from thin air. Semi-transparent text scrolled gently, unobtrusive yet insistent.
[System Awakening: Vessel Hiro Vale Initialized.]
[Affinities: Latent – Earth (Demeter), Fire (Hestia), Wind (Dionysus proxy for abundance).]
[Mana Pool: Minimal (Regenerating).]
[Core Wish: Become a worldwide-famous chef with your own renowned restaurant – 0.00%.]
I stared inwardly, the words hovering like a digital overlay. No fanfare, just efficient activation. This is it, I thought, a spark of excitement cutting through the fog. The tool they promised. But latent? Minimal? Figures—nothing handed on a plate.
Then the messages came—personalized texts from the patrons, popping up one by one.
[Demeter: Grow steadily, vessel. Tend your soil with care, and harvests will follow.]
[Hestia: Your hearth awaits kindling. Build it strong, and it will shelter you.]
[Dionysus: Ah, the first sip! Let's brew something special, eh? Start small, savor the flavor.]
Their styles shone through—Demeter's stern nurturing, Hestia's warm protection, Dionysus's playful nudge. No voices, just text, but each carried an emotional undercurrent that resonated in my chest.
A new window appeared:
[Quest: Observe Your Surroundings]
[Description: Familiarize with your new world. Note details of your environment.]
[Reward: Minor mana regeneration boost; affinity glimpse.]
[Accept? Y/N]
I focused mentally—yes. It was instinctive, like willing a muscle to move. The quest activated, a subtle prompt guiding my gaze. I scanned the room more intently: The runes on the beams (basic wards, I sensed), the herbs (mana-infused lavender for calm), the shrine's flame (Hestia's eternal light). Outside, villagers exchanged goods—copper coins for bread, a beast folk trader haggling over pelts.
As I observed, a faint warmth built inside—a glimpse of earth affinity, like roots stirring in soil. The Likes bars appeared:
[Demeter Likes: 0/100 – Level 1]
[Hestia Likes: 0/100 – Level 1]
[Dionysus Likes: 0/100 – Level 1]
Levels? Like a game? The thought carried wry amusement. Guess I'm starting at tutorial mode. No skipping to endgame. But it felt right—effort to earn progress, aligning with the patrons' emphasis.
The quest completed with a soft chime only I could hear:
[Quest Complete: Observe Your Surroundings.]
[Reward Granted: Mana +5 (temporary); Affinity Glimpse – Earth stirs within you.]
A trickle of energy flowed, easing the infant fatigue. It was small, but promising. Okay, I thought. This is how it begins. One observation at a time.
Elias noticed my quiet alertness. "Look at him—eyes wide as a mage sensing leylines. Maybe he's got your gift, Mira."
She smiled, cradling me closer. "Or yours, with that fighter's gaze. The Stars chose well today."
Their words grounded me further. This family, this village—it was my starting point. No more scandals or betrayals here. Just potential. But as the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows through the window, a faint unease lingered. The system's activation felt like a door opening, but to what?
Night approached, and with it, perhaps more whispers.