I awoke to the sound of steel ringing across the training ground, like I had every day for the last year.
Clang!
The blades met in sharp, echoing strikes, over and over again.
I tried to bring myself up and failed.
I had already become proficient in this cycle by now, and so I just started wailing.
My parents scrambled in, Elias hitting his head on the doorframe as he ran to check on me.
He looked the same at first -- a little duller behind the eyes, like something had quietly settled there.
A few strands of silver had threaded themselves through his hair. He didn't seem aware of them.
Then Elena came in, managing to not hit her head — or any other part of her body — on anything, much to my approval.
"Beat you!" Elias pointed at Elena and doubled over laughing.
Which prompted immediate physical retribution from Elena.
They seemed to have been racing to see who would get to me first, explaining Elias' collision on entrance.
The approval Elena had earned from me vanished instantly.
You can't lose a race and expect to get any approval from me whatsoever.
In their relationship drama, I had gotten too intrigued by their nonsense and had completely forgotten to keep crying, and so as they were flailing around, more paddling the air than doing any actual damage to each other, they eventually registered that I wasn't wailing anymore, and slowly turned their heads to face me.
"Gulp..."
"Waaaaaah!"
I immediately resumed crying, to which Elias pried Elena's hands from his face, a large cartoonish bruise present on his head, and walked towards me.
"Too late for that, buddy," he chuckled slightly.
He picked me up, and in my natural fear of heights combined with my developed baby instincts, I bit his arm.
Hard.
He dropped me immediately, and the world seemed to slow.
Elena's face contorted in slow motion, a deep "Nooooo—" echoed across the room, the sound continuously replaying.
Moments before I hit the ground, a light-blue flare burst beneath me.
I landed softly
I knew instantly what it was.
Mana.
How on earth had I accessed mana at the ripe age of one?
Was this body some kind of absurd genius, with an innate aptitude for magic?
***
They both started talking at once.
"Elena, did you—"
"Elias, he's—"
Neither finished.
Instead of fighting for noise, they both just continued to stare up at me silently.
"I'll go fir—"
"Let me sta—"
I couldn't tell what they were saying but apparently they understood one another and both nodded.
"What are you doing?" Elias asked, more tired than intrigued.
What? Did he want me to speak?
I probably could with mana but frankly, I found it funnier if I just stared at him and continued floating higher.
Elias reached upwards for me.
He missed.
He stepped forward and reached for me.
He missed again.
He looked down at his hand, then up at me, then back down to Elena.
"...Elena."
She turned her head away and walked out the door, apparently suffering some type of mental break.
"Goo goo gah gah." I moaned.
"No, absolutely not. You are like three metres off the ground right now, you cannot be 'goo-goo-gah-gahing' right now."
"Gah." I continued.
Elias jumped and reached for me one more time, and barely clipped my toe.
And so I rose higher.
Don't get me wrong, this was having a horrible strain on my body, and I was hearing weird popping sounds from different parts of my head.
But this was easily the funniest thing I had experienced in years.
In my accelerated rise, I was interrupted by an unwelcome sound.
Donk.
My head hit the ceiling, and so I looked down.
Elias looked strangely small up here.
What if I...
Boom!
I blasted the wall with a little bit of mana.
When else would I get to intentionally ruin the house of a noble without facing any consequences?
***
I was sorely mistaken.
I in fact faced consequences.
Dire ones too.
My face was red.
I had been caught by Elena using measures of which I knew not.
It was my fault, so I didn't fight back.
But damn.
I was like ceiling high how did she catch me.
As I deeply pondered, similarly to the greatest philosophers of our time, Elias walked in.
He saw my face, red and puffy, and immediately started laughing, tears forming at his eyes.
"Look at you!" He wheezed in between breaths.
...
Fair enough.
I can't particularly say I wasn't being aggravating.
But I would remember that.
At the murderous intent emanating from the body of a one year old, Elias immediately shut up.
"I think I left the oven on," he stammered.
"You've never touched the oven in your life."
Elena immediately responded, not even giving him the attention of turning his way.
"...It's never too late to start right?"
Instead of backing down, he had committed to the bit.
"Alright I'll come check the oven with you?" Elena placed me back on my bed, and stood up.
At that, Elias immediately rotated himself and sprinted out of the room, Elena following suit.
I could hear their shouts across the hallway.
Alright?
That's over with then.
I still couldn't stand, and I had exhausted basically all my mana in the earlier fiasco.
But I was an unparalleled genius right?
And so, I put my mind to it, forced energy into my legs, and walked.
I fell on my face.
I stood back up, stumbled, and succeeded.
Great.
First order of business—spectate the training grounds.
***
I waddled myself to the training grounds, eliciting gasps of surprise from the knights.
Not subtle gasps.
Full, audible, grown-adult-men-forgetting-they-were-trained gasps.
One of them nearly dropped his sword.
Another froze mid-swing, blade hanging uselessly in the air as his brain tried to process what he was seeing.
A third simply stared, mouth slightly open, like his thoughts had exited through his ears.
I gave them a proud wobble.
Yes. Behold.
The reincarnated hero.
Currently operating at ankle height.
"Is that…?"
"Whose child—"
"Why is it walking like that?"
Good questions.
I took another step.
My legs trembled violently, muscles screaming in protest. Every movement felt like trying to pilot two sacks of wet flour attached to my hips. My balance was awful. My depth perception was worse.
I nearly tipped sideways.
Corrected.
Barely.
I advanced with the dignity of a drunk penguin.
One of the knights finally snapped out of it.
"Stop training," he barked.
Steel ceased ringing.
The sudden silence felt heavier than the noise had.
Every single pair of eyes locked onto me.
Dozens of armed adults.
One toddler.
This was not an encounter I had planned.
I planted my feet and straightened as much as my body allowed.
Which was not much.
Still, I raised my chin.
Old habits die hard.
"Uh," one of the younger knights said. "Should we… bow?"
Another shook his head. "It's a baby."
"Yes," the first replied slowly, "but it walked here."
That seemed to cause a collective existential crisis.
A tall man with a scar running down his cheek knelt cautiously in front of me.
"Little lord?" he tried.
I blinked at him.
Little lord.
That was new.
He extended a hand carefully, palm open.
I stared at it.
In my last life, that gesture usually preceded either an oath of loyalty or a surprise assassination.
Here, it probably meant please don't fall on your face.
I considered biting him.
Decided against it.
Instead, I placed my tiny hand in his.
His grip tightened reflexively.
Then his eyes widened.
"Oh."
Oh?
What did you just feel, soldier?
Residual mana? Latent aura? The faint echo of a soul that had once split mountains?
He swallowed.
"…He's warm."
Thank you for that thrilling update.
Before I could investigate further, boots thundered behind me.
"Elena's going to kill us."
The words arrived milliseconds before she did.
My mother stormed into the training yard like an incoming natural disaster, mana rippling visibly around her. Her eyes locked onto me instantly.
There was no confusion.
No hesitation.
Just laser-focused maternal fury.
She crossed the entire distance in three steps.
I was lifted off the ground.
Again.
Dangling.
Her fingers closed around the back of my collar with surgical precision.
"Aren."
That was all she said.
My name.
One word.
Infinite meaning.
Every knight straightened like they'd just been drafted into a war.
"I left you alone for thirty seconds," she continued calmly, "and you escaped the bedroom, crossed half the manor, entered an active training ground, and psychologically destabilized twelve grown men."
She lifted me higher.
"Care to explain?"
I considered my options.
Then I went with:
"Gah."
Her eye twitched.
She turned slowly toward Elias, who had just arrived, out of breath.
He raised his hands immediately.
"I swear I was checking the oven."
"You have never used the oven."
"Yes but I was thinking about using it."
"That is not a defence."
The scarred knight cleared his throat.
"My lady… he walked here."
Elena closed her eyes.
Inhaled.
Exhaled.
Very deliberately.
"He's one."
"Yes, ma'am."
"He should not be capable of locomotion with intent."
"…Yes, ma'am."
She looked back down at me.
Her gaze softened just a fraction.
Then hardened again.
"We are installing child wards."
I perked up.
Wards?
No.
No no no.
Elias nodded quickly. "Already calling the enchanter."
Betrayal.
Utter betrayal.
I wriggled weakly in her grip.
She ignored it.
"You," she said to the knights, "resume training."
They obeyed instantly.
Steel rang again.
Clang.
Clang.
Clang.
I watched the movements.
The stances were sloppy.
Footwork inconsistent.
Their timing was predictable.
If this was the standard two thousand years after the Demon King, then the world was in serious trouble.
Elena carried me back toward the manor.
As we passed through the doorway, Elias leaned in close.
"You know," he whispered conspiratorially, "most kids your age just eat dirt."
I stared at him.
One day, Elias.
One day.
He laughed, unaware of the silent vendetta he had just signed himself up for.
I was carried down the hallway like contraband.
Elena's grip never loosened.
Not even a little.
Her stride was controlled, precise, the kind of walk you take when you're one misplaced step away from committing a felony.
Servants flattened themselves against the walls as we passed.
One dropped a tray.
Another pretended to suddenly find a painting extremely interesting.
Nobody made eye contact.
Good instincts.
She pushed open the nursery door with her foot and deposited me back into my crib with surgical efficiency.
Not rough.
Not gentle.
Exact.
Then she stood there for a moment, hands on the railing, staring down at me.
I stared back.
This was a stand-off.
She lost first.
"Elias."
"Yes, dear?"
"Why was our one-year-old on the training grounds."
He scratched his head.
"Well—"
"No."
She raised a finger.
"You don't get a 'well.'"
He closed his mouth.
Tried again.
"He walked."
Her eye twitched again.
"I am aware of the walking," she said flatly. "I am asking how."
He gestured vaguely.
"With legs?"
That was a mistake.
Elena inhaled.
Slow.
Measured.
The kind of breath taken before delivering devastating emotional damage.
"Elias," she said quietly, "when you were one, you were eating soap."
He opened his mouth.
Closed it.
"…It was lavender scented."
She pinched the bridge of her nose.
I watched the exchange with professional interest.
They were both amateurs at crisis management.
Elias leaned over the crib.
"Buddy," he whispered, trying for warmth, "you scared everyone back there."
I blinked.
Good.
He deserved it.
"You can't just wander into armed training zones."
I tilted my head.
He sighed.
"Yes, I know you don't understand."
Incorrect.
I understood perfectly.
I just disagreed.
Elena straightened.
"Enchanter arrives in an hour. Full perimeter child wards. Motion detection. Mana suppression near the nursery."
Excuse me?
Mana suppression?
Absolutely not.
Elias hesitated.
"Isn't that a bit much?"
She turned.
He immediately backed down.
"Right. Great. Love that."
Traitor.
I felt something tighten in my chest.
Not pain.
Something colder.
Strategic irritation.
So this was how it was going to be.
If they were going to treat me like a fragile heirloom, then I would adapt.
I always did.
Elena leaned over and adjusted my blanket.
Her movements softened now, maternal instinct overriding disciplinary mode.
"You're grounded," she informed me.
Grounded.
At one.
I responded with a soft, unimpressed "Guh."
She smiled despite herself.
Then she froze.
"Did you just—"
I kicked the blanket.
She shook her head.
"No. Never mind."
Good.
Doubt is healthy.
They left me alone after that.
The door closed softly.
Footsteps retreated.
The manor returned to its quiet hum.
I lay there, staring at the ceiling.
Listening.
Feeling the residual mana patterns in the walls.
The wards hadn't gone up yet.
Good.
That gave me time.
I flexed my fingers.
They were still clumsy.
Still weak.
But mana responded.
Not explosively.
Not violently.
It flowed.
Thin.
Careful.
Like water testing a crack.
So this body wasn't just compatible.
It was receptive.
That changed things.
I exhaled slowly.
Two thousand years.
A soft world.
Sloppy knights.
Overprotective parents.
And me.
Reborn into silk sheets and enchanted furniture.
I sighed.
Could I break a suppression spell?
Probably not in this body.
Back to being a normal baby it is then.
For now.