Three years passed in a blur of feedings, naps, and the humiliating realization that I couldn't even control my own bladder.
Being a baby was exactly as terrible as I remembered from my first life, except this time, I actually remembered it.
My new family was... different from what I'd known before.
My father, Thorne Ashford, was a man of few words and many scars.
He stood well over six feet tall, with shoulders that looked like they could carry the weight of the world and arms corded with muscle earned through years of swinging a blade.
His face was weathered and stern, but when he looked at my mother, something in his expression softened, just slightly.
My mother, Seraphine, was beautiful in a way that made people stop and stare.
Long silver hair that seemed to shimmer in the moonlight, eyes the color of amethysts, and a presence that commanded respect without demanding it.
She was gentle with me, singing songs in a language I didn't recognize, songs that made the air itself seem to hum with power.
Power. That was the other thing about this world.
Magic was real here.
I'd first noticed it when I was about six months old.
My mother would hold me close, and I could feel something flowing through her, a warmth that seemed to seep into my very bones.
At first, I thought it was just body heat, the comfort of being held by a parent.
But as my consciousness grew clearer, I realized it was something more.
Mana.
The fundamental energy of this world, present in all living things but accessible only to those with the gift.
And apparently, I had it.
It happened on my third birthday.
My parents had invited some neighbors over, a modest celebration for a modest family.
There was cake, laughter, and the kind of simple joy I'd never truly appreciated in my first life.
Then my father knelt before me, his expression serious.
"Vesper," he said, his voice gravelly and deep.
"Today you turn three. In our family, this is the day we test for affinity."
He produced a small crystal from his pocket, no larger than a marble.
It was clear and unassuming, but I could feel something from it, a pull, like gravity but gentler, inviting me to reach out with something I hadn't known I possessed.
"Hold it," my father instructed. "Close your eyes. Feel what's inside you, that warmth, that energy. Let it flow into the crystal."
I did as he said. It was easier than I expected.
The mana I'd felt flowing through my mother all those times, the energy I'd sensed in the air around me, it was like reaching for a hand I'd known my entire life.
The crystal flared to life.
Colors swirled within it, blue like the ocean depths, silver like starlight, and something else, something darker that seemed to drink in the light around it.
The crystal grew warm in my small hands, then hot, then blazing.
"Enough!" My father grabbed the crystal, his eyes wide with something I couldn't identify. Shock? Fear? Wonder?
The room had gone silent. My mother's hand was over her mouth, her amethyst eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"Three affinities," my father breathed. "Water, Star, and Void. I've never... Seraphine, have you ever heard of such a thing?"
My mother shook her head slowly.
"Never. Dual affinities are rare enough. But three? And one of them is Void?" She looked at me with an expression I couldn't read.
"Thorne, we need to be careful. Very careful."
I didn't understand then what they were talking about. But I would learn.
Oh, how I would learn.
...
The next five years were the most intense of either of my lives.
My father, it turned out, was not just a simple farmer or tradesman as I'd assumed. Thorne Ashford was a retired adventurer, a B-ranked mercenary who had traveled the continent fighting monsters and completing quests for the Adventurer's Guild.
The "scars" I'd noticed were from battles with creatures I'd thought only existed in fantasy novels.
My mother was even more surprising. Seraphine Nocturne was a former court mage who had served the royal family of the neighboring kingdom. Her "retirement" to this quiet village had been a choice, one she'd made when she fell in love with my father during one of his missions.
I had hit the jackpot in terms of teachers.
"Mana is not infinite," my mother explained on my first day of formal training. I was eight now, old enough to begin structured lessons.
"Your body produces it naturally, but the rate is slow. A mage who exhausts their mana completely will suffer mana fatigue, headaches, nausea, and in severe cases, unconsciousness."
We sat in a small clearing behind our cottage, the morning sun filtering through the leaves above. My mother held a similar crystal to the one from my birthday, but this one was designed for training rather than testing.
"The first step is learning to sense your mana clearly," she continued. "Close your eyes. Don't try to use it yet, just observe. Where do you feel it? How does it move?"
I closed my eyes and did as she asked. The mana was there, as familiar now as my own heartbeat. I felt it pooling in my chest, a reservoir of energy that pulsed in time with my breathing.
"I feel it," I said. "In my chest. It moves when I breathe."
My mother smiled. "Good. That's your mana core, the center of your magical power. As you grow stronger, it will expand.
Now, I want you to try something simple. Hold out your hand and imagine water forming above your palm. Don't force it. Just... invite it."
Water affinity was apparently my strongest, the easiest for me to access and control. I held out my hand, palm up, and focused on the image my mother had suggested.
Water. Cool and flowing. Adaptable yet powerful. The essence of life itself.
I felt a tug from my mana core, and then a small sphere of water was hovering above my hand, no larger than a marble. It wobbled uncertainly, its surface tension barely holding it together.
"Excellent!" My mother clapped her hands. "For a first attempt, that's remarkable. Most children your age take weeks to manifest even a drop."
I smiled, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with mana. Praise from my mother was rare and precious, she was a strict teacher who believed in pushing her students to their limits.
But even as I celebrated my small success, I could feel the other affinities stirring within me. The Star affinity felt distant but bright, like looking up at the night sky.
And the Void... the Void felt like a whisper at the edge of my consciousness, promising power but demanding something in return.
I pushed those thoughts aside. One step at a time. That was a lesson I'd learned in my first life, and it was just as applicable here.
My father's lessons were different. Where my mother taught control and precision, my father taught survival.
"Magic is a tool," he said, tossing me a wooden practice sword. It was heavy in my eight-year-old hands, but I'd been training my body alongside my magic, and I caught it without stumbling.
"But it's not your only tool. A mage who relies solely on magic is a mage who will die the moment their mana runs dry."
He drew his own sword, a real one, steel that had been forged by master craftsmen and enchanted by mages far more powerful than I. The blade hummed with latent energy.
"Stance," he commanded.
I adjusted my feet, remembering the lessons from the past months. Feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, weight balanced. The sword should feel like an extension of your arm, not a foreign object you're trying to control.
"Good. Now, basic thrust."
I lunged forward, extending my arms in a straight line toward my father's chest. He didn't even move, letting the wooden blade stop inches from his tunic.
"Your form is improving," he admitted. "But you're telegraphing. I could see that thrust coming from the way you shifted your weight. In a real fight, that hesitation will get you killed."
I nodded, accepting the criticism. My father wasn't cruel, he was practical. In his world, weakness wasn't just a personal failing; it was a death sentence.
"Again," he said. "And this time, don't think. Just act."
We trained until the sun began to set, and I collapsed into bed that night with muscles that screamed in protest.
But despite the pain, despite the exhaustion, I fell asleep with a smile on my face.
For the first time in either of my lives, I felt like I was actually living.