"Is this supposed to be my dad? Big nose… mustache? No way I'll look like that when I grow up. And who's this girl? Dressed like a maid… my babysitter? Huh, not bad. Maybe she'll take good care of me. Oooh, blonde, probably seventeen… and those big bubbles look good too."
Most people would never think a newborn could think like this. But he wasn't a normal baby.
Jake had been an alchemist in his forties, spending his life in a lab playing with fire, or more accurately, experimenting on highly toxic acids. One day, a mistake took everything from him: first his eyes, then his body slowly failed. His body became a shell that could not die, only his mind remained alive in endless pain. God is said to be merciful, but in his case, mercy came late. He suffered for years, slowly going insane. The pain warped him mentally until it became something he could study, something he could almost call part of life. His desire to test compounds and see reactions had led him to this state.
Until he heard a voice offering a choice,he couldn't see or do anything. Hearing was the only thing intact about him. The last sense before death and the first sense every human awakens in their mother's womb.
"be reborn in the same world without memories, or be reborn in a new world and keep them." The voice said.
He chose to keep his memories and go to the new world. Because it would be meaningless to be reborn without past memories. You would be a different person and according to him it kills everything he is. Otherwise, nothing could explain the existence of a lustful baby with wild thoughts.
Did I make the right choice? he thought. Only ten seconds after birth, and I already smell like… ugh. And I don't like what I see… except those big bubbles.
The father didn't notice the baby's thoughts, and neither did the maid. But unlike the cheerful maid, the father only glanced coldly and left. The maid stayed, determined to care for him, which helped her understand the newborn's behavior better.
"Hello there, little one. I don't know what they'll call you yet, but I'm Marianne. For now… I'll call you Little Devil," she said.
Maybe she noticed him staring at the bubbles. That's why she chose the name. The Little Devil didn't like the atmosphere and tried to fight back, but all he could do was cry loudly.
The maid didn't mind. She took it as a sign he liked the name. To calm him, Marianne thought of a way.
"Little Devil, look…" She held up a small cloth. With a gentle blow, it transformed into a colorful, moving bird. It was pure magic.
"Look at this bird. Isn't it beautiful?"
The Little Devil's eyes widened. What did I just see? This bird… is it real? Did I see it right? The maid just cast a magic trick or a spell? Will I be able to do that too?
Being an adult in a baby's body was hard. All he could do was observe. But imagination was his escape. He fell in love with the trick. As a former alchemist, he knew magic didn't exist in his old world, but he accepted that this was real.
There was a glowing mark on her forehead, like a small torch and a star. He couldn't understand its meaning.
After a while, he decided to sleep.
Babies spend most of their day sleeping or crying. As he closed his eyes, he opened them in his dreams. It felt strange.
A vast sea, still and flat, reflected an endless sky filled with countless stars in every color. Some stars shared shades but differed slightly. Nothing else existed.
He stood on the water in a baby body, wondering… What is this place? Dreams are usually blurry and uncontrollable. This can't be normal… Unless… this is what babies dream. Clear like reality.
The Little Devil wondered where this place had come from when he felt cold water under his tiny feet. He instinctively wanted to wake. That's when he opened his eyes again.
This strange dream planted doubts and theories. Perhaps he was reborn in a different world, just as he was told, a magical one. What confirmed it was what he saw when he woke up.
The Little Devil found himself in a large hall, carried by the maid. Many people were present. He recognized his father sitting on a throne, speaking to everyone.
"Everyone, take a seat… today I present to you my first son. The ceremony of recognition will take place here."
A priest entered, dressed in white with gold trim, carrying a magical stone. The Little Devil had no idea what was happening, but theories began forming in his mind.
Hey, what's going on now? Everything here is freaking me out. Big nose is a king? No way… What's a recognition ceremony? Could it be… circumcision? No way I'll feel that pain again. I swear, I'll get my revenge when I grow up…
Of course, no one could know what he was thinking.
The ceremony of recognition was the most important ceremony in one's life. It determined whether someone would live an ordinary life or one filled with adventure.
Marianne's expression was different this time, not her usual cheerful self. She approached the king quietly, lowering her voice.
"Your Highness, please think again. Even if the Little Devil truly has exceptional talent, his life could be in danger. You must consider carefully," she said, her words edged with fear.
The king didn't respond. "Danger? Under my watch? Now, take your place and prepare for the ceremony. You're overthinking."
Marianne saw something wrong in his tone, but she knelt as the priest placed the stone in front of the Little Devil lying in her arms. He could do nothing but cry loudly, upset by the ceremony and the strange words from Marianne, while his father seemed unconcerned. Thunder rolled outside, as if the storm knew the moment had come.
A lightning mark glowed sharply on his forehead. Eyes turned toward him: ministers, envoys, representatives, even members of the royal family. Their gazes were heavy.
The priest's face shifted from anticipation to astonishment. "Your Highness… strange! The stone shows no sign, but the boy clearly has lightning affinity."
Normally, the magical stone reacts and displays a color indicating an element. But for the Little Devil, the stone didn't react. Only the mark appeared.
The king's face stayed unreadable. "Let's wait and see. It might be a sign of… something interesting."
The mark alone stirred tension in the hall. Then movement began above his head, a shape forming from pure blue magical fluid.
The priest could barely hide his excitement. "Your Highness…"
The king rose, walking forward, face a mix of shock and pride. The hall grew tense. The Little Devil sensed hostility, and his cries grew louder. Baby instincts took over, despite the adult mind inside.
"Your Highness, it's better to let him get it all out first," the priest said.
The king nodded, a faint smile breaking through his usual cold demeanor.
The shape solidified above the Little Devil's head. A crown, formed from pure magical liquid, sparkled as lightning danced across its surface.
The king announced, "The queen chose a name for the heir long before his birth. Dignified and dominating, as if by prophecy. His name is Killial, Prince of Valtherion Kingdom."
He placed a silver necklace around the baby's neck, carrying his name.
A noble in the audience spoke up, voice hesitant not to anger the king. "We have heard of the crown's significance, but our kingdom rarely deals with magic. Can someone explain a bit more?"
The priest turned to address them. "The mark shows elemental affinity. The lightning mark recognizes him as a master of lightning. Most children are born without it. It grants low to medium control of the element. The crown above his head is far superior. It shows high control and strong affinity. Only a few are ever born with it."
Another envoy leaned forward. "So… does the crown make him stronger than an ordinary master?"
The priest nodded. "Yes, it grants better control: more options for attack, defense, and escape. The title is king of the element, though raw strength is similar to a master. Its value lies in mastery, not raw power."
Whispers ran through the hall. Ministers and envoys exchanged looks, understanding the implications. The crown made him both powerful and a target.
The Little Devil felt the tension but didn't fully understand it. He cried, letting instinct guide him while his mind raced. He could sense the eyes on him and the weight of attention.
It was clear that being born with such power meant people would watch him, want him, or fear him. Trouble was inevitable, and the Little Devil's mind cataloged it all.
Amidst the crowd, there were a few figures who retreat from the scene unnoticed.