Good... the boy is waking up, and... now what? How do I talk to him? My experience with young ones is limited to my own childhood, while other encounters happened during evacuations. After all, all children lived far from the "front lines" and often in massive underground Training Grounds...
"A-alright, away with bad thoughts. A completely ordinary child will be before me now. A completely ordinary memory-lost child-mage with a soul burned out by curses..."
Yeah... Truly the most ordinary child...
"Hah... I think it's time to call him."
By then, the boy had woken up. I woke him myself with a small "push." I hope he won't be too... I don't even know. Out of it? He lost his memory, his family—everything but his life. And here I come, saying I'm inside him and mean no harm. Even I find this situation at least strange. What to say about a child?
Still, that won't stop me from starting the conversation. And the sooner he learns about me, the better. Just don't overdo it...
"Kid... Do you remember me? The voice that spoke to you during the fire."
The reaction came. The boy began looking around the ward with his eyes and found no one besides the other still-sleeping children in their own beds.
"Don't be scared, I'm not next to you. I'm, one might say, in you. Inside your soul, to be precise."
Surprised by the voice, the kid immediately directed his gaze to his chest and was about to open his mouth to say something when I interrupted with the next words:
"Be quiet. No need to wake the others in the ward." Shiro's eyes widened in surprise, and he quickly looked around, noting he wasn't alone in the ward. There were at least a few other sleeping children around him on hospital beds, causing Shiro to furrow his brow. "If you want to talk to me, think... toward me. Try consciously talking to me mentally."
The boy was somewhat taken aback but soon made his first attempt.
"Um... Hello?.." The red-haired child thought uncertainly, still peering at his chest with a somewhat amusing look.
"There. Much better. Let's introduce ourselves first. My name is Russell." The boy was surprised again but soon introduced himself in response.
"...My name... is Shiro." The kid said uncertainly again. Seems like only now did he realize he didn't remember his surname. I hope that doesn't upset the child too much, as even I couldn't find that info in his memory. And my attempts to restore it, unfortunately, met no success.
Sad. I'm confident in my abilities in this area, but even I have no chance to restore what burned to ash. The kid was lucky not to lose the rest. That flame clearly intended not just to burn him but to maim, bringing as much suffering as possible.
In short, the being behind the cursed fire's appearance is dangerous and abnormal. Worse than a mere enemy wanting your death...
I sighed again.
Not even a day since my death, and problems are already looming. What else could I expect? I thought, before returning to the conversation with Shiro.
"Good. Now we've met. I'm sure you're wondering who I am and why I'm talking to you this way, right? And I'll definitely answer your question, but first we should meet in person. So right now, I'll 'pull' you to me so we can talk face to face. Just don't be afraid. I have no reason to harm you."
"What?.. Wait!.." His words were cut off by me as, with a small effort, Shiro's consciousness was pulled into his Inner World, and his body limply fell back onto the pillow, as if the child hadn't woken at all.
And here the kid is in his own Inner World for the first time. It still feels a bit off to me that a child his age even has one. That's no sign of normality and directly indicates his abnormality. And this "abnormality" most likely arose precisely because of the cursed flames that nearly cost him his life.
And it's one thing for someone like me to get one after over a century of nonstop war. Another thing entirely for an ordinary child you could give a maximum of six years to.
Anyway, no need to indulge heavy thoughts. I'll have time for that.
"Well, hello, Shiro. Hope you don't mind me dragging you here so suddenly? If you're feeling tired, we can postpone this talk." I said calmly, looking at the red-haired boy with amber eyes.
The boy immediately began looking around as he fell onto the chair I projected. Naturally, the suddenness made Shiro jump up from the wooden surface like from hot coals, an surprised exclamation escaping his throat.
"Where am I?.." The child asked, beholding the endless horizon stretching in all directions before his gaze settled on the only thing standing out against the empty, seemingly infinite surroundings. Me.
"You're in the same place you were before." I replied simply, shrugging. "Right now, your body is sleeping on the hospital bed. And this place is your Inner World, where I ended up due to circumstances unknown to me." I could only give a crooked smile after such a vague explanation. The words made little sense to a child, but I couldn't come up with anything better. Anyway, it wasn't necessary. The main task now is to earn Shiro's trust, as my "landlord."
After all, I don't want to live in this empty space my whole life, afterlife, or whatever it is. And for that, I'll need the boy's help.
"...My Inner World?.." The kid asked, looking around again, but this time not so wildly. He even sat on the chair when I gestured to the wooden item.
"Sorry for dragging you here so suddenly, but I needed to talk to you, since I've started living... here." I said, waving at the surroundings and trying to make my tone as soft as possible, which stretched but worked.
I can't recall ever making my voice "softer"... Ever. But judging by the kid's look, he wasn't afraid of me. Already good.
Giving Shiro time to look around, I—to the boy's clear surprise—projected another chair and didn't delay using it. That is, I sat.
"Before you start asking how I do what I do, I should admit that I am a... Mage."
Shiro's pale-golden eyes widened immediately, but he didn't rush to speak, so I continued:
"In turn, the space we're in is your Inner World, which is already quite strange, considering that creating something like this isn't all that simple. Well, that's not important right now. What really matters is what we do next?" I began, as if reading a prepared speech.
"Um... What to do next?" My involuntary landlord repeated my last words, making a puzzled face.
"Yes. Can you remember anything besides your name and yesterday's events?" The kid closed his eyes, crossed his arms over his chest, and frowned. After about ten seconds, he sighed and shook his head.
"Yeah... As I thought. Shiro, you can ask me questions, since I won't learn much from you anyway."
Am I doing the right thing? Maybe I should let the child recover from the trauma first? Though just look at his Inner World, and it'll be clear that's impossible. The scar will remain on his soul and surely haunt his nightmares.
Children don't deserve that.
"Russell-san... What will happen to me?" The child asked, showing no strong emotions and merely looking at me curiously from his seat.
"Well, to be honest, I have no idea." I began explaining, crossing my arms over my chest. "See, I'm from... a very distant place. Things here are surely very different from the procedures I'm used to. So I don't know what'll happen to you next. I can only promise I won't leave you for now." Not that I could without consequences...
After my words, our barely begun conversation stalled, but before I could think of something, the boy's gaze sparkled with curiosity.
"Then... how did you create your chair? Is that Magic?" Shiro asked, looking with interest at the source of his curiosity.
"Of course." I nodded and tried to smile warmly. "And simple at that. Your chair, by the way, was created by me too."
Hearing my words, the kid, without standing, began examining my creation. Giving him time, I waited until he finished his "inspection."
"It looks like an ordinary chair..." Came the child's uncertain verdict.
"Naturally. What did you expect?" I asked, raising my right eyebrow.
"Well... It's magical..." Shiro replied, as if that sufficed.
"...Honestly, don't even know what to say to that. Anyway. Any more questions?"
"Do you know what happened?.. Where did the fire come from?" The child asked with hope in his previously curious eyes. But, to my own regret, I could only shake my head in response, telling what I'd learned:
"I know a little more than you. My abilities are limited in your body. I'll just say the flames were far from ordinary—they were cursed." The kid showed no fear at the last word, merely asking for clarification so I'd continue:
"Cursed?.."
"Exactly. Anyway, let's not talk about such a grim topic for now. We won't learn anything anyway. Next question." I don't want to discuss death and curses with a child who just escaped.
"Since you're a Mage... Can you teach me Magic?" That's the question I was waiting for.
"Of course. First, we need to find a place to start training. You're lucky, by the way. Not every person can use Magic." Hope this distracts him from bad thoughts. From what I gleaned from Shiro's remaining memories, Magic is unknown here. It exists, but it's mentioned only in books as something fantastic. And unfortunately, the boy experienced the dark side of magical arts firsthand.
"Can you show me something?" The kid asked with barely concealed anticipation.
I nodded silently and with a wave of my hand created simple targets nearby—rectangular stone slabs two meters high and twenty centimeters thick. Then, after a couple seconds' pause, I drew several short throwing blades from my "world." They were small five-centimeter flat handles with ten-centimeter blades. Each had a simple blue gem pendant inlaid at the blade's base. I created six in total, three per hand. As many as targets.
"My specialization is in Creation and Matter Transformation. Mostly I create tools, then use them further or just project, creating like those chairs we sat on earlier."
The kid had long stood from his chair and, approaching me, waited, glancing back and forth between my weapons and the distant targets.
"Now I'll fill each with the corresponding spell, and then... Well, you'll see for yourself."
The filling process takes me an instant, but for the boy, I did it slowly and deliberately, letting the child enjoy the moment before throwing the knives. Here they are in my hands, and a split second later they embed in the targets with a loud crack.
The child could watch with some surprise as the first target melted from the heat. The second was cleanly bisected, the third crumbled to dust from decay, the fourth deformed until it compressed to fist size, the fifth evaporated as if it never existed, and the sixth... simply exploded.
"Well, what do you think?" I asked, awaiting his reaction, already knowing what it would be.
The child's awestruck gaze was my answer.
***
Read the story months ahead of the public release — early chapters are available on my Patreon: patreon.com/Granulan