"June 10th, 2025."
"The day I died."
"More specifically, the day I got hit by a truck. Pretty basic, right?"
"If I recall correctly I was walking home from the convenience store - I was grabbing a late night snack, and well… I must've gotten distracted, because the last thing I remember was a blaring horn and two headlights."
"I mean, I lived a pretty good life. Top of my class, an amazing girlfriend, a nice apartment. Kind of a shame I'm not currently living it anymore. I put in a lot of work to get it too! Hours of studying, daily exercise routines, along with slaving away at my internship. If I knew I was going to just die walking home one day I would've definitely spent more time having fun."
"Parties, drinking, and all of the other fun stuff I put aside for success - I realize now that I really do regret not spending more of my time just enjoying life. Y'know, if I could relive my life…
"…"
"Wait a minute."
"What's going on anyway? Aren't I dead? I can't see or hear anything. I feel… sticky. I'm pretty sure I'm still thinking though…"
"Does that mean there's an afterlife?"
"Is this the afterlife?"
"…"
"…"
"…"
"…the afterlife is pretty boring."
*rumble*
"Huh? What was that."
Muffled, a voice broke into his ears.
"-thruik! Grokturuv dex iris nit obus!"
"Who is that?"
After hearing the strange language, he began to feel an intense pressure surrounding him.
"What the hell is going on?? Can't I live my death in peace?!"
Before he could think anything more of his death, a bright light enveloped him.
In front of him was a woman, wearing light-brown, medieval style clothing - a tunic, trousers, the whole package. He was in a room made of wood, lit by a single open window. He seemed to be in some sort of bedroom, seeing the dresser and side table next to the bed.
Suddenly, a man who was standing next to the bed spoke.
"Ifir dorus yptun? Menta dex halte proxus?"
"What a strange language. Moreover, what is going on? Where am I? Who are these people? If I lived, I would've been transported into a hospital. Is this a hospital?"
He re-noticed the wooden, and rather shabby, architecture of the room.
"This hospital sucks."
Just then, he was raised up by the brown clothed woman and handed to the man. The man was rather grizzly, bearing a large scar across his left eye, along with a long, brown-gray braid.
From up there, he could see a very exhausted, and tired, woman on the bed he was on. He also noticed she was not wearing pants, and was instead covered with a blanket. Now, since he was not an idiot, he started to make work of the situation.
"Why am I sharing a hospital room with some random lady?"
Or not.
After a bit of time, and some conversation, the brown clothed woman left the room, leaving just him, the man, and the woman.
The man and woman exchanged words for a bit, which concluded with the man handing him to the woman.
"Icrut bultets xures jgurkd. Feul crins Thebe."
"Ah. I'm a baby."
Over the next few days, he figured out most of the situation. He was given the name "Thebe" by his "mother", and the man that was next to the bed is his "father".
Although he was not a baby at heart, he had no choice but to live as one - which is quite humiliating, as Thebe was soon to find out.
"This is terrible."
"I sit in this crib for nearly three quarters of the day, only getting picked up when I need to be fed or… ugh… changed. Getting fed is an… "interesting" experience, and getting changed is downright degrading. Also, I'm pretty sure I have diaper rash."
"The only other time I leave this prison is when my mother takes me for a walk around the house. According to my observations: this house sucks. There's one bedroom, which my parents and I share, and one other room which consists of the kitchen, storage, and dining room. I must be seriously poor. The floors are uneven and ragged - I'm pretty sure I saw my dad step through a nail yesterday - I can nearly see to the outside through the cracks in the walls, and there's no bathroom! Not in the house, anyhow."
From outside of the bedroom, a male voice is heard.
"Vorus! Korbe hindus kir Thebe dant?"
"Te, Thebe graend lond eor des."
"They're talking about me."
"Yor danl hend."
Thebe's father enters the bedroom and approaches the crib, picking up his son.
"Thebe! Qend horus!"
"It's going to be terrible until I learn this language."
After what felt like ages, Thebe was finally allowed to roam around the house, crawling as he pleased. He was beginning to pick up on the language, though definitely not an expert - after all, the only time he heard the language was when his parents spoke, and his father was out of the house for most of the day, presumably at work. He knew that he was Thebe, his mother was Mrya, and his father was Holce.
Thebe had grown quite accustomed to being a baby, his curiosity reflecting so. He would spend most of the day crawling around the house looking for something interesting, or he would watch his mother cook and do other chores.
This went on for a few months, slowly learning the language of his parents, as well as his mothers routine, always looking forward to the time his father returned from work so he could listen to the stories he would tell. Although, he wasn't really excited for the stories, but rather the language training.
He grew closer and closer to his new mother and father, truly seeing them as his parents as time went on.
In his old life, Thebe didn't have the best relationship with his parents. As a matter of fact, it was rather terrible. The things he could accomplish were never enough for them.
It felt different with his new parents.
He felt unconditionally loved.
He was happy he had been reincarnated, despite all of the… embarrassment.
He finally had a family.
Thebe continued his days in bliss, learning, observing, wandering, until he started to be able to walk. When he started to walk, his parents were overjoyed. They spoke in a language he still couldn't fully understand, but he could see they were happy.
After that, his mother took him outside for the first time. He had seen small glimpses of the outdoors from his father entering and exiting the house, but he had never been outside before.
His mother opened the door to reveal a lush, green landscape, laden with stalky plants swathed in six-petaled white, pink, and yellow flowers. From the door, there was a path that led to a road on the right side of the house.
It was unlike anything he had seen before. Thebe originally grew up in a large city, so he had seen nothing like the massive meadow that was open before him.
He immediately ran (as best a toddler could) into the field, where he could hear his mother laughing behind him. He played among the flowers and grass for what could've been hours, until his father came home.
Thebe saw his father walking down the road and ran (again, as best as a toddler could) up to his father.
However, what he saw wasn't his father.
It was Holce.
He saw his father, drenched in blood, limping toward him.
In his belt, was a sheathed sword, still dripping.
On his face was the most ghastly look, to what Thebe could only compare to shellshock in his original world.
He heard his mother run up to the both of them, seeing what had happened to Holce.
Thebe's mother helped his father into the house, where he collapsed to his knees. His mother took Thebe to the bedroom and placed him into his crib.
"What's going on? What happened to Dad? Is he okay?"
From the other room, Thebe could hear the full conversation. Although not fully understanding, he could make out a few of the words.
Red, cut, meat, help, and run.
Thebe did his best to infer what had happened.
After that day, his father stopped going to work - If he even was going to work in the first place. After what Thebe had seen, he didn't know what his father did during the day.
Over time, his father returned to his usual self, happy and wise-cracking, but there was something different. They could see it in his eyes.
A few years later, during the spring, Thebe was planning on running his usual schedule: wake up, "help" with breakfast, then go play in the field until it was time for supper.
Today, however, was special. Today, Thebe awoke to a funny feeling in his stomach, akin to butterflies. His mother entered the bedroom to wake him up. At this point, he had a good grasp on the language and was able to understand most of what his parents were saying.
"Thebe dear, it's time to wake up."
"Mom, my stomach feels funny."
Thebe saw his mother perk up.
"Funny? What kind of funny? Are you sick?"
"No, it feels like somethings moving around inside"
His mother's eyes lit up.
"Holce! Holce! Get in here! It's started!"
"WHAT?!" Holce yelled, before sprinting to the bedroom, crashing into a few things along the way…
Holce said, partially out of breath,
"It's started? Already? Isn't he a little young?"
"He's a genius!"
Thebe's mother clasped her hands together and held them at her chest.
"A blessing!"
Thebe was the most confused he had been in his entire life - including during his birth.
Thebe was stuck thinking to himself:
"What's going on? Why do they seem excited? What's "already happening"? Am I going to explode or something?"
Out loud, Thebe said
"What is happening?"
His father, eyes lit up like his mother, was instant to reply.
"Your Tyrix Dcronmia! It's developing!"
"..."
"My Tyrix Dcronmia?"
"Yes!" his mother piped up.
"Your Tyrix Dcronmia is the center of your being. It allows you to use the energy of the world to accomplish miracles!"
"Miracles?"
This time it was his fathers turn.
"Yes, miracles! People can create fire or water! I've even heard of some of them growing entire fields of crops in an instant!"
"Your mother and I have weak Tyrix Dcronmias, so we haven't been able to utilize them much around you… but you could be different! Your mother and I both developed at the normal age of around seven, but you are developing at four! Incredible!"
"Alright Holce, let's leave him be, developing takes a lot of energy, so he needs to rest"
"Does that mean I can't play in the field today?"
"No dear, you must stay in bed - we can't risk anything happening during the development."
"Awwww."
And with that, Thebe's parents left the room, closing the door behind them.
"A Tyrix Dcronmia, huh? Miracles…"
"Wait a minute…"
"Magic!?"
"Father said creating fire and water, and growing plants… that sounds a lot like magic…"
"Based off of the novels I read back in my old life, a Tyrix Dcronmia must be a mana core, and the energy of the world must be mana."
Just then, the realization of his situation set in.
"I was reincarnated… into a world with magic… where I seem to be some sort of prodigy."
"WOO HOO!"
Thebe eventually fell back asleep, his mind filled with thoughts of noble spell casters and huge magic battles.
He woke up sometime in the evening, judging by the position of the sun directly into his eyes through the window, but that's not what woke him up.
He was awoken by some sort of commotion, which he could hear outside of the window. He couldn't see it, however, so he assumed it took place outside, but on the other side of the house.
Thebe got up and walked into the main room and exited out the front door.
In front of him was a scene. He could see his mother, cowering behind his father. And his father, shouting at the four men that stood ahead of them.
Thebe began to walk outside.
"You all need to leave, NOW.", he heard his father say.
"Dad, what's happening?"
Holce, not expecting to see his son, nearly jumped.
"What are you doing out here?!"
"I heard yelling…"
"Go back inside."
"But -"
Holce immediately turned back to the four men.
"Look, take whatever you want, just don't hurt them. Don't hurt my family."
A medium sized man stepped forward, looking short compared to the three massive men behind him.
"I don't think you see the situation you're in. We will do whatever we want. To your wife, and the boy."
Before the man could speak another word, Holce drew out his sword and swung at the man, who Thebe assumed was the leader. The man ducked before jumping back and commanding his men.
"KILL HIM."
The three giants proceeded to draw out massive hammers and charge Holce. He pushed Mrya away, toward Thebe, and began to fight the three men. He seemed to be holding his own, dodging, parrying, and getting in the occasional slice. That was until he dodged late and had his head struck by one of the hammers.
He was alive, just stunned.
However, that changed when the other two men swung their hammers at the same time and crushed his skull from both sides, splattering what once was Holce's head among the grass.
"HOLCE!" Thebe saw his mother cry.
Thebe hadn't processed what had happened yet. He was frozen with fear and denial.
"Thebe, run!"
Before he could understand his mother's words, Mrya shoved Thebe into the field, facing the four men by herself.
Thebe immediately began to run. He ran as fast as he could, only slowing down when he heard his mother's screams behind him.
Unfortunately, the field was as large as it was beautiful, leaving him to be an easy target.
Before he could escape, he was grabbed from behind by one of the men.
"Where do ya think you're going?", his deep voice boomed.
"Let me go!" Thebe yelled, aimlessly.
The large man took him back to what seemed to be the boss, who had not yet moved throughout the entirety of the massacre.
As the man took him back, he saw the full scene consisting of his father, headless and in the grass, and his mother, still alive, yet lying on the dirt path with her chest cavity completely blown inward.
As the man approached with Thebe, he saw his mother reach out toward him.
One of the other men saw this, and swung his hammer down on her head, mercilessly ending her life as they had her husband's.
"MOM!"
Thebe began to sob.
"Why did you do this? Why did you…"
"Shhhhh. Stop talking.", the gang leader interrupted, not letting Thebe finish.
"You see, your father was a noble man. After all, he put my friends and I into the royal prisons! A few years ago, he and a team of other guards raided my fort. We got most of them, too. But I guess it wasn't enough. We were taken prisoner. Thanks to my smarts, I managed to get out, along with the rest of my crew. I'm taking payback for what those guards did to me and my men that day, starting with your father. I took his life, and I'm taking his family's, just like he tried to take mine."
"Fortunately for me, there's just one more life to take before I can move on to the next guard."
The leader began to approach Thebe, drawing his sword.
Thebe felt as if time had slowed down. He could feel his heart pulse, he could hear the wind in the grass, he could see the shine on the sword as the sun reflected off of it. He could sense his death.
Thebe began to think.
"What can I do? I can't die, not again. What happens after this time? My parents…"
"Nevermind them! They're… gone."
"Dad said something about making fire, right? What if I try to make fire?"
With that thought in mind, Thebe focused all of his concentration into an attempt to create fire, hopefully one large enough to engulf all of the bandits.
Thebe felt sadness build inside of him, which then turned to anger. He felt the anger grow, and compress within him.
As Thebe released, he felt a surge within his stomach.
Just then, a spark appeared on the leader's shirt, lighting it aflame.
The leader noticed the fire, and immediately patted it out.
"What the hell? Is this kid a caster?"
Thebe felt dread as he realized he had failed.
"You bastard. This was my favorite shirt."
Thebe felt the grip of the man that was holding him release, dropping him to the ground.
Suddenly, an absent warmth washed over Thebe, as he no longer sensed anything.
He saw the ground approach, but despite his efforts he couldn't reach out to stop himself from falling.
As his vision began to fade, Thebe saw one last glimpse of the meadow, with wildflowers now freshly stained red, and in front of him, his headless body collapsing to the ground.