"This is very different from my world." Gregorios thought aloud. It had been a year and a half since he was reincarnated as Gregorios Arthurson. As much as a baby, his mind remained the same. He was reading a book about the magic of that world.
"These figures are so weird. It has nothing to do with the magical runes we needed to use on earth." He read the book entitled "A Deep Study of Hyorvan's Magic" fiercely. Greg was never studious in his past life, but he was willing to become someone with better magical and physical abilities. He looked out the window, watching the night that covered the entire field, and then went back to reading his book.
A creak could be heard and Greg was startled. It was his mother, Renoelle. He tried to run with his tiny baby body, but all he could do was crawl towards the candle his father had lit to light the hallway a few hours earlier. His mother entered the room, finding her son trying to put out the fire with his little hands and grunting in pain. In one leap, she grabbed him with one arm and stepped into the melted wax, shattering the candle on the old wooden floor and putting out any trace of fire. Renoelle kept stepping for a few more seconds to make sure her humble house didn't burn down.
"What do you think you are doing at this hour, young man? And how did you get this candle? She turned her brown eyes to the book on the floor. The pages were scrawled with the colorful graffiti Greg had taken from his mother's desk. Gregorios watched the moonlight fall on his mother. Her red hair was blown back by the sudden wind. Renoelle's pale skin was like a beacon in the middle of the sea, guiding sailors who got lost in the tide. In other words, she was incredibly beautiful.
"You're getting my graffiti again, aren't you? And besides, you scribbled your father's book." This was the fourth, fifth or maybe sixth time she's caught Greg with her graffiti and a book in his hands. Renoelle took the child to the homemade crib Arthur had prepared months before Gregorios was born. She placed him gently on the messy sheets, smoothing the small pillow and covering it with another sheet that was on the floor. The woman, who was wearing loose pajamas that looked like a big dress, picked up the colorful graffiti from the floor and also took the book. She was about to leave when she whispered something to her son who looked like he was sleeping. Something he heard all too well, seeing the huge smile that filled his face. He wasn't sleeping.
"Good night, my little Greg. I love you so much."
Later that night, Renoelle would spend the rest of the time she hadn't gone to bed, wondering what notes those in the book of magical teachings were. How could a one-and-a-half-year-old child write so perfectly? Was his son a prodigy? In the midst of so many thoughts, she fell asleep.
The next day, Greg was hanging from the window without glass, supported only by a box under his feet. He spent most of his time watching his father hard at work in the fields. But what really interested him was when Arthur finished the day's chores and devoted himself entirely to magic training. Gregorios was absolutely fascinated. A spell that doesn't need an arcane object or even an ancient rune to cast. This is what Greg wanted to learn. This is what he would like to become in the future, a great wizard just like he was in his past life.
He realized that the language his parents spoke was the same as that of his old country. He wondered if other people said that too. The only person, apart from his parents, with whom he had less contact was the shopkeeper who visits the Hovir's house and the neighboring village every month. Greg wondered when he could go to the village, since his parents don't go there, whatever the reason.
"Ignis!" Almost like a roar, Arthur screamed aloud with his left arm raised. Greg watched in amazement and awe as the red mixed with the yellow and blue colors expanded from his father's hand. The fire started quickly, occupying at least 10 meters in front of Arthur. Greg's eyes sparkled in the bright light and a smile filled the boy. His father was sweating nonstop. He turned on his side, facing his son and nodding his head, finishing with a thumbs-up. Greg responded equally, surprising the blond man with blue eyes.
Gregorios noticed, on checking himself regularly in the only mirror in the house, that he now had black hair and brown eyes. Gregorios Arthurson Hovir. That was his new name and he would do anything to honor his new family. He never met his old parents. Renoelle and Arthur are the best thing that ever happened in little Gregorios' life.
The boy felt something touching his abdomen from both sides. Renoelle grabbed him from behind, pulling him out of the window and onto the ground. In front of her were the colorful graffiti and the book she had previously taken from him, however much he had taken from her first. The woman opened it to the exact page where he had left off and pointed with one of her thin, delicate hands.
"Can you read this here, son?" Greg nodded to his mother's surprise. He still couldn't pronounce anything that wasn't the word papa or mama. He was a baby after all.
"Did you write all these notes around the texts?" He nodded again. Renoelle still couldn't believe it. Maybe that was some indication that he really was someone special. Or maybe he was simply nodding his head repeatedly like any other baby and her husband was the person who scribbled the entire book.
She got up to get a sheet of paper. She lifted the book off the floor and placed it on the only dining table in the entire house. Gregorios began to be wary of his mother's next questions. He didn't want to cause any suspicion that might cause him to become the center of attention or suspect that he wasn't who they think he is. From then on, Greg would try to learn magic at a slower pace, without teasing his mother.
Renoelle returned with the sheet of paper in hand. She put it down and asked the boy to write something. Trying to disguise it, he wrote nonsense, scribbling the sheet completely. That was a relief to his mother, who spent the rest of the day in peace.
Night came quickly to the countryside. Greg spent the rest of the afternoon in front of the window, still watching his father train magic. Sometimes he would climb out of the box and sit on the wooden floor, shouting over and over the same words his father spoke. Nothing happened.
As Greg had read the previous nights, the magic of this world was controlled by something called mana. A magical force that inhabited all living beings in Hyorvan. This allowed people to cast what was called a spell, practicing magic. Some animals can also use magic, albeit irrationally.
A few hours before being taken to the crib, Greg picked up the book of magical knowledge in the world of Hyorvan again. He replaced it on his father's bookshelf with one of the children's books his mother bought for him.
"Good night Greg." The two said at the same time as they walked out the door. Gregorios heard the key turning in the bedroom door. They had locked the door so he wouldn't try to get the book again. Too late.
He got up, hanging himself between the rectangular openings on the sides of the crib, gradually descending. When he dropped to the floor, he headed for a dresser in his bedroom. That's where he hid the book.
The boy read it again, this time with no possibility of candle, just moonlight.
"The possibilities of using mana are endless. Its charge is generated on any and all living beings in our world, allowing them to cast incredible spells. However, not everyone has the necessary affinity to manipulate their own mana. Casting is a mental and physical concentration step, with time the user will get used to it and it will be possible to use it without so many inconveniences. For this, it is extremely simple. Breathe deeply and then expire the air that you have drawn into your lungs. Close your eyes and think of the wonders around, in your friends, in your family perhaps. Feel the mana pass between the main points of your body. Feel the mana fill you completely and then release the heat you felt during that time. Don't be in a hurry, as practice makes perfection."
Gregorios concentrated. He took a deep breath and then expired. He continued to do this and then closed his eyes. He was thinking of the field in which he currently lives. He thought of his parents. He thought of his old friends and… Coralee.
Greg felt the heat rush through his body. He could feel the mana moving from top to bottom, bottom to top. He was getting it.
He raised his left arm just like his father had done. He could feel the sparks forming between his fingers. And then, when he could no longer hold back the heat that filled his body, he screamed.
"Ignis!" It was the first word besides papa and mama he was able to say.
He opened his eyes, staring at the small fire that had formed in his hand. He didn't get burned, the fire didn't hurt him. Greg smiled.
And then the fire expanded, exploding the boy's room.