The night the twins were born, the sky over Oakhaven was not dark. It was a deep, bruised purple, streaked with shimmering auroras that shouldn't have been there. Inside the cottage, the air was thick with the scent of dried herbs and the frantic heat of a flickering hearth.
Kayan stood outside the bedroom door. For a six-year-old, his composure was unnerving. While his father, Ronan, paced the floorboards like a caged beast, Kayan sat perfectly still. He was focusing his senses, feeling the rhythmic pulses of life radiating from behind the door.
'Two heartbeats,' Kayan noted, his mind sharp. 'One is rapid and fierce, the other steady and deep. A duality of spirit.'
When the cries finally broke the silence—not one, but two distinct voices—the tension in the house snapped. Ronan rushed in, but Kayan lingered at the threshold. He felt a sudden surge of Mana in the room, a natural phenomenon that occurred when new souls entered the world. To most, it was invisible. To Kayan, it was a feast of energy.
As he finally approached the bedside, he saw them. Aria and Ren.
Elara, pale but radiant with a maternal glow, beckoned him closer. "Come meet them, Kayan. Your sister and brother."
Kayan leaned over the cradle. As he reached out, he didn't just see infants; he saw blueprints of power. He subtly touched Aria's forehead, sending a tiny, cooling thread of Mana through his fingertip.
'Incredible,' he thought, his eyes widening slightly. 'Her mana circuits are as clear as crystal. If she were born in my old world, empires would have fought to enslave her as a High Mage.'
Then he turned to Ren. The boy was already gripping the edge of the blanket with a strength that made the fabric groan. Kayan felt a dull, warm thrumming of physical potential radiating from the infant's tiny heart. 'And this one... his bones are dense, his spirit is grounded. A natural-born Juggernaut.'
Suddenly, Ren's tiny hand shot out and latched onto Kayan's finger. The strength was surprising. A small spark of static-like Aura crackled between the toddler and the reincarnated warrior. :)
Kayan froze. In his previous life as the "God of the Battlefield," his hands were stained with the blood of thousands. He had held broken swords and dying comrades, but never something so... fragile. Yet, in that grip, he felt a strange, searing warmth that bypassed his defenses and struck his very soul.
'In my past life, I was a lone wolf. I fought for gold, then for glory, and finally for a kingdom that betrayed me,' Kayan's gaze hardened, his blue eyes shimmering with a steely teal light. 'But now... I have a pride to lead. I am no longer just a weapon. I am the wall that stands between them and the darkness.'
Days turned into weeks, and Kayan found himself in a new kind of training. One afternoon, while Elara was busy, he sat between the two crawling toddlers. Ren was trying to chew on a wooden block, while Aria was staring at a candle flame with intense focus.
"No, Ren. Don't eat the wood. It's bad for your digestion," Kayan said seriously, taking the block away. Ren looked at him with big, watery eyes, ready to cry.
Kayan sighed. He quickly snapped his fingers, creating a small, harmless spark of Blue Aura that danced like a butterfly in front of Ren's face. The boy's tears vanished instantly, replaced by a look of pure wonder.
"And you, Aria," Kayan turned to his sister, who was leaning dangerously close to the candle. He waved his hand, and a soft gust of Green Mana extinguished the flame gently. "Fire is a tool, not a toy. Learn that now, or you'll burn the house down when you're five."
Aria tilted her head, blinking at him. She didn't understand his words, but she felt the power. She reached out, trying to catch the fading emerald mist in the air.
Kayan sat back, a rare feeling of peace settling over him. He was a monster in the skin of a child, a fallen god in a peasant's hut. But as he watched his siblings, he knew his path had changed.
He had three years until his official Awakening. Three years to turn this peaceful cottage into a fortress of power.