The sun set, the moon rose and a new morning brought fresh light through out the world.
Time moved on.
Hours turned into days, and days into months. Before Kael realized it, two full years had passed in this strange, unfamiliar world. He grew like any ordinary child—walking when expected, babbling out simple words like "mama," "dada," "milk," and "food."
Despite the soul of an older teen trapped within, Kael allowed himself to play the part of a child. His parents, Lyra and Alaric, showered him with affection, always nearby, always smiling.
They gave him everything they could—warmth, safety, and love. It wasn't extravagant, but it was sincere.
From what little Kael could gather with his young, limited eyes, they weren't a wealthy family. Their home stood medieval and wooden, surrounded by a peaceful farmland.
No electricity. No cars. No buzzing phones or glowing screens.
The air was pure, the nights were quiet, and the only tools he saw were wooden carts, handwoven baskets, and farming plows.
Meanwhile,
Today was a special day in the household—the birthday of little Kael.
Lyra and Alaric were filled with joy beyond words. The house buzzed with excitement as the couple moved around, decorating every corner with whatever they could find at the village market. .
The warm smell of fresh buns and seasoned meat drifted through the air, making the atmosphere warm and lovely.
Kael sat on a small wooden chair in the kitchen, swinging his little legs. His father and mother arranged everything, clearly enjoying each other's company—stealing quick kisses between cooking, teasing each other like young lovers rather than a married couple with childrens.
Kael sighed softly, cheeks puffed. He was used to it by now. They did this a lot. Still, he didn't mind it. In fact, a tiny part of him felt warmed by it.
It wasn't the biggest birthday party, nor the loudest. But for Kael, surrounded by genuine smiles and simple love, it was enough.
"Kael," Lyra called out gently as she stirred the pot, glancing back at him with a smile. "What do you want for your birthday, sweetheart?"
Kael blinked, startled. What do I want? I don't even know where I am… What am I supposed to say?
His little brows furrowed in thought. Should I ask for information about this world? No… that would be too suspicious. Why would a two-year-old care about that? Maybe a remote control car? I have always wanted one… but do those even exist here?
Before he could spiral further into confusion, Alaric approached and ruffled his soft hair with a grin. "Young Kael, will you let your father gift you something special?"
"Dear, no!" Lyra scolded lightly, wagging her spoon at him. "Let Kael decide for himself."
Alaric chuckled and stepped back, hands raised in surrender. "Alright, alright. I'm just a little excited, that's all."
Kael looked between the two, warmth blooming in his chest. Maybe… maybe he didn't need to ask for anything complicated. For now, this strange new life didn't seem so bad.
"Yesh! Yesh, Papa!" he said, flinging his tiny arms toward Alaric.
Alaric blinked, momentarily surprised, then burst into laughter. "That's my boy!" he said, scooping Kael into his arms and hugging him tightly.
Lyra rolled her eyes as she stirred the pot. "You're just like him, Kael," she muttered, though her tone held no real annoyance.
Alaric grinned smugly. "Of course he is—he's my son."
Lyra smirked without turning. "He's mine too, you know."
Hours passed, and soon the delightful aroma of cooked dishes filled the small, cozy home. The table was finally prepared—buns stacked in baskets, meats, and bowls of warm soup.
Lyra wiped her hands on her apron and quickly began arranging everything neatly. Once done, she sat beside Alaric, who had already poured drinks and was eyeing the food hungrily.
They both looked at Kael, who was seated in his tiny chair with a child's anticipation glowing in his eyes.
"Kael, happy birthday," they said in unison.
Kael beamed, waving his little hands. But before he could say anything, Lyra stood up again. Her steps were light but slow, almost hesitant.
From a small wooden drawer, she pulled out a carefully wrapped cloth bundle and returned to the table. Gently, she unwrapped it, revealing a necklace—a simple leather thread holding a red gem at its center. The gem faintly pulsed with a soft glow, shimmering.