Six months had passed since my… complicated birth. Who would've thought I'd come out backwards? It was unexpected… and given the difficulties, it was clear there wasn't any modern medical equipment available.
In short, I'd been reborn. Not as an animal, plant, or spiritual being like some wild theories suggest. Of course not. I was reborn as a baby.
It took me about two months to get used to being carried around the house like a delicate but useless object. At the time, that's exactly what I was.
It was uncomfortable not being able to move my limbs freely. Always wrapped in blankets that restricted my movements. I spent most of my time sleeping… or being breastfed.
I thought, with my mental age of forty-two, I'd completely reject that act, but my body followed other instincts. I didn't feel repulsed. On the contrary, after a while, I'd fall asleep.
But amidst all that, there was a small inconvenience: a blonde baby named Isolde who followed me everywhere like a piece of gum stuck to my side. Always glued to me.
When we were too far apart, without warning, we'd start wailing at the top of our lungs, producing a cry so piercing it seemed to shatter every glass object in the house.
Our bond was such that even when sleeping, we were practically on top of each other. She'd climb over me, forming a little mountain of two chubby babies. It was warm, sure, but also annoying. I liked it… and didn't at the same time. I guess that's just how twins are. I had no choice but to accept it.
Everything around us was strange. Old-fashioned… far behind the 21st century. No computers, no light bulbs, no signs of advanced technology.
Not even phones. No, there were no phones. Everything was handwritten and sent via some kind of bird that didn't look like a pigeon. It was a white crow… with blue eyes.
What the hell?
But what allowed me to pinpoint the era was observing my parents. Always dressed in overly elegant clothes. Without exception. Outside, instead of cars, there were carriages; people in similar attire, top hats, cobblestone streets…
We're definitely in the Victorian era, I thought. I didn't want to accept it, but I couldn't ignore the evidence either.
Isolde played with a rag doll while I stared out the window.
Isn't it dangerous to leave a baby near a window? Of course it is. Yet, Mom seemed overly confident.
I could've crawled all over the house if it weren't for the wooden crib with absurdly high sides. Good grief…
I'm bored…
There wasn't much to do. As a baby, my actions were limited to sleeping, eating, pooping, and playing with my twin.
The last one was the most constant. We'd push each other, play with rag dolls, and occasionally hit each other lightly, sparking silly giggles.
And amidst all that, I also noticed I hadn't just been reincarnated into the Victorian era, but into a world… far too "fantastical."
I confirmed it during our first outing with Mom. Basic household shopping.
The streets were bustling: cobblestones, tall houses, buildings, brothels (or whatever you want to call them), and in the center of it all…
Smoke billowing from factories and chimneys, people shouting about their wares, decorations left over from some past festival, and airships gliding through the sky. Impressive, though noticeably outdated compared to 2025 designs. I also saw them building train tracks.
But the most incredible thing was what I'm about to tell you…
Magic. Not the cheap kind that makes pigeons appear or people vanish in a tacky show. No. Real magic. Fantasy magic.
Isolde and I were mesmerized watching a man make water float in his palm, shaping it into animals or figures. Another hurling fireballs into the air with astonishing skill. And a woman healing her child with a simple gesture.
It was… astonishing. The cold air amplified that feeling. I was hypnotized. It felt right.
I'd been reborn into a world of magic and swords.
Yes, I even saw men firing weapons powered by magical energy and others wielding swords like they were part of a ritual. The police were so fast they seemed to vanish.
For months, I dedicated myself to observing, and I'm proud to say I've learned quite a bit.
Not how to perform, of course… but how to think.
---
Mom told us bedtime stories. Or rather, tales of legendary heroes. Naturally, I didn't listen to them. Not out of disinterest, but because I simply couldn't. As soon as they laid me next to Isolde, I'd fall into a deep sleep.
That didn't stop Isolde from waking me up by climbing on top of me, without fail.
Though I didn't understand Mom's stories, Isolde and I developed a certain fondness for reading. Of course, we couldn't read… yet. But when we tried, the words sometimes seemed to weave together, becoming clearer… and little by little, we started to understand.
The house had shelves full of books, but only two caught my full attention.
Practice of Magic and Combat and another titled Writings of Paradox.
The first was about two hundred pages. Slim, compared to the other… grotesquely thick.
I'm not exaggerating. It easily contained four or five volumes fused into one, each with fifteen hundred pages.
It was heavy, obviously. It nearly crushed Isolde and me when we pulled it off the shelf. Luckily, it only grazed us, giving us a good scare.
The Practice of Magic and Combat book was covered in dust. I tried to blow it off… but instead, I just spat a glob of drool onto Isolde's face.
I laughed. She, with that smug look she'd developed so quickly, managed to blow the dust off in one breath… straight into my face. She smirked. Fair enough. I deserved it.
We opened the book and…
Well, the obvious: letters.
What did you expect? Family photos? Illustrated landscapes? Though the latter would've been useful for understanding this world…
The book was packed with information. Magic. Combat. Hard to understand.
But… Writings of Paradox was a different story.
It didn't just contain information about this world. It also held combat techniques so extensive and unexpected they felt… strangely familiar.
Kung Fu and all its styles. Karate and its variants. Along with Taekwondo, Muay Thai, MMA, Fencing, Jiu Jitsu, Boxing, Judo, Systema, Krav Maga, Aikido, and more.
I knew them all… because in my past life, I'd had experience with every single one. I'd even mastered techniques from some of them.
Though I found it absolutely mind-blowing that this book contained that kind of information…
Who the hell wrote this? I thought.
Isolde seemed confused by everything she saw. She didn't understand the words, but she grasped some things, connecting them instinctively.
"Time to eat, my little twins," Mom appeared from behind us, picking us up and pulling us away from the book. "I don't think reading The Great Writings of Paradox is a good pastime for babies. You're too young."
The Great Writings of Paradox? Quite the name change, don't you think? But honestly, it suits us. I think it's good to learn.
"What were they up to?" Dad asked, sitting at the table with a newspaper in hand.
Mom placed Isolde and me in baby chairs.
"Reading. I thought you'd thrown out all those books."
"No. I think it's a good idea to keep them for the kids to use when they're older."
Well said, Dad.
Mom set out three plates of food. One of them was mashed, specially prepared for us.
She sat beside us and started feeding us… It was something like watery rice, but it's probably more accurate to call it completely diluted oatmeal. Honestly, it was thin, white, and tasted sweet. That's all I'll say about it.
"Well, it seems our twins will be devout followers of Paradox."
What kind of ridiculous deity would be called Paradox?
"Why do you say that?" Dad finally put down his newspaper and started eating.
Mom wiped Isolde's mouth, who was eating eagerly. Me, on the other hand, I seemed more apathetic… chewing slowly.
"As I said, they were reading, but they seemed really interested in the Paradox Bible."
Bible? Mom, I think you got it wrong. That was a guide…
Truthfully, I didn't get it. Nor did I care all that much.
At that moment, my mind was already drifting to more… important things.
What does it take to learn all that? Consistency? Yes… Determination? Definitely. Though it's going to be tough. Agility, strength, speed, balance, wit. There's no way to say it'll be easy.
Of course it wouldn't be. How could it? Learning all that was going to be a monumental task…
But why learn it? That was the real question.
I couldn't just decide to do it for no reason. There was a simpler motive… and that was my past life.
I remembered what my mom said when I was born: "Do you think they'll be prodigies too?" At the time, I took it as a joke, but during that meal, the phrase hit harder.
In my previous life, I wasn't exactly the picture of a genius kid. Sure, I'd said I was smart, but I just didn't show it. I hated school, honestly…
I wanted to change that. It would be the first step to fixing a misstep from my past life. This new body seemed to learn more easily. Maybe, in this life, I really was the prodigy Mom talked about.
Of course, I wasn't going to leave Isolde behind. Having a twin could be the perfect opportunity to move forward. Why not try?
I had reasons to do it… I didn't want to repeat that mistake. Besides… I don't want my parents to hit me again. I didn't want to see that anger… that disappointment for not being what they expected.
I had to strive to become someone they could be proud of. Someone they could rely on. Have a good job, a stable life, right?
It sounded like a solid plan… I just had to stay on track. I couldn't let this new path end up repeating the old one.
Though I wasn't seeking redemption in this new life, I at least wanted to be someone different. I wasn't looking to forgive myself, but to prove to myself that I could trust myself… that I was capable of taking a different path.