A few years has passed since Ezra had started walking, actually by the tenth month since his rebirth he could already walk he considered the normal age that newborns take their first steps just didn't see the need to show or make it known to his parents that he could walk
Despite being a considered a once in a millenium genius it took a while for Ezra to be fluent in this worlds language, which he later learnt was called Caelish which is one of the most commonly used languages ;in Thalen, despite his mother some times singing in her own native language this language was the easier of the two to pick up.
Along the years Ezra managed to pick up a few things by listening in on his parents conversations, he managed to learn that they live on the southern part of the continent
Their town was called Ridger, a humble settlement nestled between a river bend and low mountains. It wasn't large perhaps a few hundred people at most but it felt alive, it was also the kind of town where almost every one knew each other. Every morning, the air was filled with the sound of roosters and cart wheels grinding over dirt roads. From the cottage window, Ezra would see merchants unloading baskets of fruit, or hear the distant ring of a blacksmith's hammer that some how managed to echo from the town despite it being a little far from their house, which he found to be quite annoying.
His family lived near the edge of town, their house was situated on a hill where the hustle and bustle was a little less compared to the main square. Their cottage, known by the neighbours as the "stone House, was a cozy wooden structure with ivy climbing the stone base and smoke curling softly from the chimney. Bram his father had built most of it himself before marrying Roana.
The neighbors were close enough that voices sometimes drifted through the open windows on warm days. The Kelders, who lived just across the narrow path, or as Ezra knew them as nosy ba*terds although they were very nice, were an older couple.
Mr. Kelder always smelled faintly of tobacco and looked like your average old man, often carved small toys from pinewood, leaving them by the fence for children who passed by. Mrs. Kelder had a garden so large that even Ezra, walking around in the yard, could see the colors from where he strolled sometimes wondering what she does with a whole field of flowers and how she takes care of them all. She'd wave sometimes, calling out a greeting to Roana or offering vegetables in a woven basket, looking like like she just popped out of an ad.
A little farther down the hill lived Taren, a man with a limp who worked the town's stables. He often passed by carrying pails of feed, humming tunes that Ezra would later to look busy. Sometimes, Taren stopped to chat with Bram, exchanging jokes about the weather or the hunting season.
Beyond them was the main road leading into the heart of Ridger a wide clearing lined with cobbled stones and a handful of shops. There was a bakery that always smelled so delicious, a tailor's workshop, and a small apothecary that Ezra's mother occasionally visited. He remembered her holding him in her arms, the scent of herbs and parchment filling his nose while the apothecary, a gentle woman named Lira, handed over small bottles with green wax seals.
Ezra's mother, had once taught at the local school near the church before giving birth to him. The townsfolk often stopped to talk to her whenever she went out. "The teacher from the northern quarter," they called her fondly.
Meanwhile, Bram was respected in other ways. As a hunter, he provided meat for several homes in Ridger, but he also supplied the local guild with animal hides and rare herbs found deep in the southern woods. Ezra often watched him clean his tools by the door, sunlight catching on the blades. It was a steady, patient ritual one that fascinated the boy far more than he'd admit.
He managed to pick up that the town changed with the seasons. In spring, traders came with wagons full of dyes and glass trinkets. In summer, children ran barefoot through the streets while the farmers sold fruit at the square. Autumn brought color to the trees, and with winter came the sound of laughter echoing from the tavern.
Last week, while pretending to nap near the hearth, he overheard something that caught his attention.
His father's voice, calm but thoughtful, carried through the quiet.
"Trade's been steady this season. If the ships from the north arrive on time, the guild might expand routes past Mirestead."
His mother hummed in response, stirring a pot that filled the air with the scent of herbs and broth.
"That means more work for you, doesn't it?"
"yes, but it is far more stressful." His father said while rolling his eyes, pretending as if he didn't enjoy it.
Ezra didn't yet fully understand what his father did but he kind of picked up that it had something to do with trade and travel. He'd seen him sorting through papers marked with symbols, maps with inked routes, notes and he some sort of hunter at the same time.
And though the words *guild* and *routes* didn't mean much to him in this world yet, he stored them away.
Each night, as his parents talked softly by the fire, Ezra would listen from his room.
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