Days passed quietly in the small wooden house.
For Luke, the rhythm of life became simple and predictable. Most of his time was spent sleeping, eating, and staring at the wooden ceiling while pretending to be an ordinary baby. In reality, however, he was doing something far more important.
He was absorbing mana.
Whenever the house was quiet and no one was paying attention, Luke would focus his mind and feel the tiny glowing specks floating around him. They drifted slowly through the air like dust in sunlight, and with careful concentration he could guide them into his body.
The more he did it, the better he felt.
His body seemed stronger, more lively. Even as a baby, he could feel a subtle vigor growing inside him, like a warm fire quietly building strength.
Of course, he still looked like an ordinary child to everyone else. Which, as far as he was concerned, was perfect.
While quietly cultivating mana, Luke also began learning about the life around him. Babies, after all, might not speak much, but they hear everything.
Through the daily conversations of his parents, he slowly understood the situation of the family he had been reborn into.
John, his father, worked in the fields almost every day. Beth, his mother, was still recovering from childbirth and spent most of her time at home, caring for Luke and managing the house.
One morning, Luke lay quietly in his crib while Beth prepared a simple meal.
John entered the house carrying a small sack of vegetables.
"Morning," he said, brushing dirt from his hands.
Beth looked up from the pot simmering over the small stove.
"You're back early today."
"Clouds are coming in from the hills," John replied. "If it rains, the fields will turn to mud again."
Beth stirred the pot thoughtfully.
"Well, at least we have something to eat tonight."
John placed the vegetables on the table and glanced toward Luke.
"And how is the little one today?"
Beth smiled gently.
"He's been quiet. Just watching everything like he's trying to understand the world already."
John chuckled.
"Well, if he grows up curious, that's not a bad thing."
Luke watched them with interest.
Their meals were simple. Most days, it was porridge. Sometimes vegetable soup made from whatever could be grown nearby.
Occasionally if the harvest had been kind or if someone had hunted successfully there would be meat. Chicken, sometimes.
A bit of pork and once in a while, even beef.
The food was modest but it was enough and despite the simplicity of their lives, the house was always filled with warmth.
Days passed peacefully.
From overheard conversations and bits of village gossip, Luke slowly learned where he lived.
The village was called North Barns.
It was small, mostly made up of farmers and a few hunters who ventured into the nearby forests. Long ago, the village had served as a granary for the region's old lord. The harvest from surrounding farms had once been stored there before being sent to larger towns.
Later, the main granary had been moved elsewhere, but the name remained.
North Barns.
A quiet farming village that existed somewhere on the map of a world Luke had not yet fully discovered.
He did not know the name of the kingdom.
Nor the borders of the land.
But he was slowly getting the hang of things.
And time continued to move forward.
—
Eventually, Luke turned one year old.
To him, the day did not feel particularly different. To his parents, however, it was an important moment. Despite their modest life, they decided to celebrate.
Beth cooked a stew richer than usual, adding more vegetables and a bit of meat that John had carefully saved for the occasion. The smell alone filled the small house with warmth.
Luke, of course, was still being breastfed. In this village, it was believed that children should be breastfed until they were two years old for proper health.
Still, he participated in the celebration in his own way.
Mostly by sitting in Beth's arms and looking very pleased with himself.
Visitors arrived throughout the afternoon.
John's friends came first. Gilbert, a cheerful farmer with broad shoulders and a loud laugh, with him came his son, Jonathan, a tall fifteen-year-old who already looked like he had spent most of his life helping in the fields. Then came Edward, one of the hunters of the village. Finally, Old Smith, the local craftsman, arrived carrying a small wooden box. The old midwife, Racquel, also stopped by later, smiling proudly as if she still felt responsible for the child she had delivered.
The house filled with voices and laughter.
"Look at him!" Gilbert said, leaning closer to Luke. "He's already got John's eyes."
Jonathan laughed. "Or maybe Beth's patience. He hasn't cried once since we got here."
Old Smith cleared his throat and placed the wooden box on the table.
"Well now," he said. "A birthday needs a proper gift."
John looked surprised.
"You didn't have to bring anything."
"Nonsense," Old Smith replied. "A boy's first birthday deserves something memorable."
He opened the box and revealed a small wooden figurine.
Luke's eyes widened.
The carving showed an old man with a long beard, a pointed hat, and a staff.
Luke almost choked on his own baby breath.
That's a wizard.
Not just any wizard.
To Luke, the figure instantly resembled every great wizard he had ever known in stories something between Merlin, Gandalf, and Albus Dumbledore.
Old Smith scratched his beard.
"You know, John," he said, "I hope the boy likes the gift."
John smiled warmly.
"Thank you, old man. I don't ask for much. I just hope he grows up healthy."
Gilbert chuckled.
"Don't fill the boy's head with dreams too early," he said. "Magic like that? That's for nobles in the big cities. We're barely even a town."
He gestured toward Racquel.
"The only magician around here is that old midwife."
John nodded.
"Still, Racquel's a good woman. Sometimes I wonder why she chose to stay in our little village instead of going somewhere she could earn more."
Jonathan leaned against the wall and smiled.
"Miss Racquel taught me a little about magic when I was younger."
Gilbert laughed loudly.
"Yeah, I remember that! I used to wish you'd become a magician and drag us out of poverty."
Jonathan shrugged.
"Took me a year to accept I couldn't do magic like the people in the cities."
Old Smith suddenly slammed his hand on the table.
"Hey! The boy's still a child. I just hope he likes my gift. And that carving there is a piece of art I made with pride and love, you know. Don't talk so negatively in front of him!"
John frowned.
"Hey. Don't curse in front of the child."
Beth watched the group with quiet amusement while holding Luke in her arms.
Luke, however, was not just amused.
He was excited.
Because the conversation they were talking about is Magic! And apparently, it was rare which only made Luke more determined than ever.
As he stared at the small wizard figurine, he felt a different kind of warmth in his chest.
Not the warmth of mana entering his body.
Something deeper.
Something that touched his heart.
Last time… I was poor.
Last time… I had no power.
Luke looked at his parents, laughing with their friends.
But this time…
I'll take this family to greater heights.
This time… I'll make it.
—
After his first birthday, Luke noticed something interesting.
His ability to absorb mana had improved.
Before, he could only focus for a few minutes before exhaustion forced him to fall asleep but now, he could continue longer.
Much longer.
And during one of his quiet training sessions, he made another discovery.
The mana lights around him were not all the same.
At first, they had simply looked like glowing specks. Now he saw their colors where some were white others glowed faintly and almost looked transparent. There were green lights, red ones, and even rare golden lights drifting lazily through the air. Some appeared gray, others violet, and many more colors that shimmered together like pieces of a living prism.
Luke stared in amazement.
But something else caught his attention.
The gray lights moved toward him easily.
Very easily.
Almost as if they wanted to be absorbed.
But when he tried to gather the other colors,
nothing happened or barely anything. They trembled slightly but refused to move closer.
Luke frowned in concentration.
Interesting…
He thought carefully.
Maybe… this is what they call affinity?
The idea made sense.
If different mana types existed, perhaps people could only easily control certain kinds.
Luke smiled faintly.
I guess I'll find out later…
When I finally cast my first spell.