The first rays of morning sunlight peeked through the curtains, spilling across the wooden floorboards and warming the room with a gentle glow. I sat perched on the edge of my chair, legs swinging slightly, as the familiar aroma of breakfast floated in from the kitchen. My mother's voice cut through the air, lively and commanding.
"Rio! Come here, I need you to fetch vegetables and a few things from the shop today!" Alisa called, her tone a mix of cheer and authority.
Vegetables? Shop? Already? I groaned, pressing my small hands against my cheeks. "But Mom… I'm too little! I can't carry the basket!"
Alisa laughed softly, a musical sound that eased some of my grumbling. "Rio, you are four years old now. You are stronger and more capable than most children your age. This is nothing for you."
I crossed my arms, trying to look indignant. "But—"
She placed a firm hand on my shoulder, her gaze meeting mine. "Rio, I know you'd rather sit with your books all day. But enough of that. Time to go."
Busted. I knew better than to argue. A sigh escaped me as I reluctantly got to my feet. The basket felt surprisingly light in my hands, though I was sure Alisa had made it heavier than necessary just to see if I could manage it.
Stepping outside, the crisp morning air greeted me, carrying the scent of dew-laden grass and faintly baked bread from the bakery down the street. Even at four, I could sense the rhythm of the village waking up—the chirping birds hopping across rooftops, the distant clatter of carts on cobblestones, and the gentle hum of villagers beginning their day.
I waved at Mr. Felan, the blacksmith, who was already polishing his tools. "Good morning, Rio," he said, nodding as sparks flickered from the forge behind him.
"Good morning, Mr. Felan!" I replied, straightening my small shoulders.
He chuckled. "Careful with that basket, young one. Don't drop anything!"
Drop anything? As if. I thought with a grin, adjusting the strap of the basket. I've been navigating these streets alone for years now—well, not exactly years, but still.
The path to the shop wound past the knights' training ground. I slowed my pace instinctively, curiosity tugging at me. Several knights were sparring under the early sun, their armor glinting and swords flashing as they practiced. From my small vantage, I could see the rhythm of their movements, the arcs of their swings, and subtle missteps that no ordinary eye would notice.
Oh no, that stance is too wide. You're leaning forward—you'll lose balance in the next strike. And your grip… far too loose. Recovering too slowly, you'll tire before the first few exchanges. My brow furrowed, and I couldn't help but observe closely.
Before I could stop myself, the words slipped out. "Your stance is wrong! Grip too loose! Swing too wide!"
The knights froze mid-movement, eyes widening as they turned toward me. A small, four-year-old boy was pointing out their mistakes like some miniature instructor. Confusion hung thick in the air, followed by chuckles.
"Did he just…?" one whispered to another. "How would a four-year-old even know about swordsmanship?"
Let them think it's a joke. I thought, moving along the path, small feet carrying me effortlessly. Their pride would recover by tomorrow; until then, it was their problem.
Unbeknownst to me, the royal knight captain had noticed the commotion from a distance. He had intended to approach, perhaps even speak to me, intrigued by the boy who pointed out every error with confidence and precision. But before he could move, I had already slipped away, blending into the village streets like any ordinary child.
The shop came into view, its wooden sign creaking gently in the morning breeze. I pushed the door open, the bell above jingling softly. Inside, the warm scent of herbs, vegetables, and spices enveloped me. The shopkeeper, an elderly man with a gentle smile, greeted me warmly.
"Ah, Rio! Back so soon, I see. What do you need today?" he asked, wiping his hands on his apron.
"Vegetables… and a few other things," I replied, listing them carefully. I was meticulous; mistakes were not allowed. If I forgot anything, Alisa would surely sigh, and I would never hear the end of it.
I wandered through the aisles, selecting crisp carrots, shiny apples, bundles of fragrant herbs, and a few mysterious-looking vegetables I didn't recognize. The shopkeeper raised an eyebrow at one of them.
"Curious choice, Rio," he said with a small smile.
"It's for Alisa," I replied confidently. "She said I could pick something new today."
He chuckled softly, handing me a small, sweet-smelling fruit. "Well then, I trust your taste. Consider it a reward for your excellent judgment."
Carrying the basket back toward home, I passed other villagers who smiled and waved, none surprised to see a four-year-old carrying out errands on his own. I almost waved back at a small group of children playing in the street, but then remembered I had a basket full of vegetables, and one rogue apple could easily roll into trouble.
The training ground loomed in my peripheral vision again, but I ignored it this time. Knights will keep sparring, and I've already given them my feedback. They'll survive.
A chicken darted across the path suddenly, clucking angrily at a stray dog that had wandered too close. I ducked instinctively, laughing to myself as the little chaos unfolded around me. Even a simple walk through the village could feel like an adventure if one noticed the details.
Finally, I reached home, basket in hand. The smell of roasted vegetables and fresh bread greeted me as I stepped inside. Alisa looked up from the kitchen, eyes bright as she saw me.
"Rio! You managed it?" she asked, stepping forward to help take some of the heavier items.
"Yes, Mom," I said, placing the basket carefully on the counter. "Everything is here."
Amane, my father, smiled from his seat at the dining table, sipping his tea. "Rio, the royal knight captain, passed near our village today. He was traveling with the princess. Seems he was… interested in someone."
Someone? Me? I thought quietly, the tiniest thrill running through me. The imposing figure from the training ground suddenly seemed larger in my mind, more important, and more mysterious than I had realized.
I took a bite of bread, letting the warmth ground me in the simplicity of home life. For now, life felt calm, ordinary, and safe—yet somewhere at the edge of my mind, a spark of curiosity began to burn.
For now, anyway… I thought, a small smile tugging at my lips. The village, the errands, the knights, and even the silent gaze of the royal knight captain—they were all threads of a larger world. And I, Rio—Reikotar, was already thinking ahead.
Even a simple morning could hold secrets, lessons, and small wonders. And somehow, I had a feeling that the boy who had pointed out swordsmanship mistakes might be noticed again, even if he didn't know it yet.
POV:-After the lunch
Finally, some time to myself… I thought with a small, secret smile. My mother might have called me to chores all morning, and the villagers might have glanced at me like I was some prodigy in human form, but now… now, I could dive into the pages I had been craving to explore.
The book was thick and leather-bound, worn from use but still sturdy. The title glimmered faintly in gold: "A Comprehensive Guide to the Sentient Races of Our World." I traced the letters with my fingers briefly before flipping to the first page of the chapter I wanted: elves.
Elves! I muttered under my breath, eyes wide. Always the most elegant, graceful, and just… perfect, aren't they?
The first lines described their appearance. "Elves are beautiful, have long ears, and excel at magic." I nodded knowingly, though of course I already had some notions of them from past lives. My eyes ran over the text, and I made little notes in the margins with the pencil I kept tucked behind my ear.
"In general, elves have spear-shaped ears," the book continued, "and the ones in this world can move theirs."
Move their ears? I whispered, biting back a giggle. So cute! Imagine them wiggling their ears when surprised…or annoyed. Hah, I'd like to see that.
I read on, and my eyes widened slightly at the next detail. "They live for over 500 years at least, and some can even live to be 1,000 to 2,000 years old."
1,000 to 2,000 years? That's…longer than even the oldest history scrolls I've read. I thought, tapping a finger against my chin. So, if you met an elf who was a thousand years old, they could have seen generations of humans come and go… incredible.
The book didn't just dwell on appearances or age. It delved deeper into the elven essence, describing their spiritual uniqueness. "While they have bodies, their spirits have a special quality where they change according to extreme emotions."
I blinked, a faint smile forming. So they're not just physically elegant—they're emotionally…shape-shifters? I murmured. The examples the book gave fascinated me: an elf could take on a dark-brown skin color and become incredibly muscular during intense anger or combat, or shrink down to a snow-white pallor when calm or melancholy, and simultaneously extend their lifespan and magical aptitude.
Huh, that's actually kind of terrifying and kind of amazing at the same time… I thought, stroking my chin. Imagine how unpredictable battles with them could be. Not to mention how charming they'd look when they're…well, whatever mood they're in.
I couldn't help but jot another note in my little margin notebook: "Elves: unpredictable in body and magic. Handle with care—or awe."
With elves safely cataloged in my mind, I flipped a few pages, eager to dive into the next race. My small fingers traced the bold letters of the new chapter: Beast-folk.
Ah, now we're getting interesting. I muttered. "Beast-folk… the more wild and varied races."
The text began with a general description. "Beast-folk might be the general name for them. They come in many shapes and forms, and their level of bestiality varies. Some walk on two legs, resembling humans with minor animal traits like ears or a tail, while others retain animalistic body parts from the knees or elbows down."
I leaned closer, practically hugging the book to myself. So many types, all different…like a rainbow of animal traits! I thought. This is amazing. And some even just have a tail and ears? How adorable.
The book continued, explaining the social characteristics of beast-folk. "Most beast-folk have bighearted personalities and see anyone with even a small hint of bestial traits as one of their kind."
I giggled softly. Even if you had the tiniest cat ears, they'd accept you as family? That's… surprisingly kind. I tapped the pencil against my lip. The elves might be elegant and long-lived, but the beast-folk are…friendly, forgiving, and warm-hearted. Not bad at all.
The text also noted their variability in form. "Some beast-folk are very close to human in appearance, while others resemble quadrupedal animals or hybrids. Regardless of form, personality tends to outweigh physical differences in their society."
So, basically, don't judge a beast-folk by how much fur or tail they have. I whispered, smiling. Looks don't matter. That's… actually pretty fair.
I paused for a moment, thinking about the villagers I had seen this morning. Even humans could learn from that kind of acceptance. Imagine if everyone treated differences as a kind of family badge. Life would be… simpler, somehow.
Turning another page, I noticed the book described common behavioral traits. "Many beast-folk are playful, curious, and sometimes mischievous. They enjoy games, social interactions, and often form strong communities. Their natural instincts sometimes get in the way, but their kindness usually outweighs any impulsiveness."
I laughed softly. Playful and mischievous? I like that. Sounds almost like kids—but smarter and furrier. I scribbled another note: "Beast-folk: playful, loyal, strong community. Treat others kindly."
The book also highlighted a few more intricate details. "Beast-folk magic, while not as refined as elven magic, often manifests in connection with nature or physical enhancement. Their lifespan is usually longer than humans but shorter than elves, averaging 80 to 200 years, depending on species and environment."
Ah, so their lifespan is decent…long enough to learn tricks and build communities, but short enough to be lively. I thought, tapping my finger on the page. Unlike elves, who just keep going… like forever and ever…
I spent a long time tracing each paragraph carefully, imagining the different races, what they might look like, and how their society functioned. I could picture a beast-folk child running through a village, hair or fur bouncing, tail swishing with excitement, smiling at everyone as if they were old friends… My mouth curved into a small grin. That would be fun to meet.
The book didn't shy away from noting challenges in inter-racial interactions either. "While generally accepting, some beast-folk communities are wary of humans or elves, particularly those who underestimate their strength or social bonds."
Ah, so not all are naive and kind… good to know. I thought, tapping my chin. Even the nicest beings have boundaries. Smart.
I leaned back, imagining the elves with their unpredictable transformations, the beast-folk with their playful hearts, and the humans I had seen in the village this morning. The world is so much bigger than just this village… so much more to understand.
For the next few hours, I stayed curled up on the floor, reading about the countless races of the world. Each page brought new wonders: the disciplined dwarves of Bronvalis, the mysterious spirits of the Elven Forest, and the cunning demons of the smallest island. Yet even in these details, my mind kept returning to the elves and beast-folk.
Elves are elegant and powerful, but somewhat distant. Beast-folk are warm and approachable but wild in their own way… I murmured softly. Both are fascinating. I'd like to see them up close someday.
Eventually, I closed the book, letting it rest on my lap. The sun was higher now, warming my face and hands. I thought about my morning—how I had run errands, observed knights, and seen the Royal Knight Captain from a distance without anyone noticing.
It's all connected, I realized. The knights, the princess, the Royal Knight Captain… even the different races… someday I'll have to understand all of it. But for now… I can just read, imagine, and learn.
I let out a small sigh of contentment. For a four-year-old boy in a quiet village, the world felt impossibly vast. And yet, in my mind, each detail fit together like a puzzle I was meant to solve.
Elves, beast-folk, humans, dwarves, demons… so many kinds of people, each with their own quirks and powers. How interesting life is. I thought, a small smile tugging at my lips as I hugged the book closer.
The morning passed, light spilling through the windows, and I remained lost in my thoughts, imagining the many adventures and wonders that awaited in the world outside. For now, the book was my window to it all, and I was determined to learn every secret, every detail, every story.
One day, I'll see all of these races for myself… and I'll remember what I read today