My mother, caught off guard by my sudden animation, turned her head to follow my gesture. "What is it, little one?" she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity. "Did something catch your eye?"
I redoubled my efforts, straining towards the cloaked figure that was quickly disappearing into the crowd. The elf was getting away! I felt a surge of frustration at my limited ability to communicate. If only I could speak, I would tell her about the magical being I'd seen.
As the elf vanished from sight, I slumped back into my mother's arms, feeling a mix of disappointment and lingering excitement. Even though the moment had passed, the memory of those opalescent eyes and pointed ears remained vivid in my mind. It was proof that this world was full of wonders waiting to be discovered.
My mother, still puzzled by my outburst, gently bounced me in her arms. "You're quite lively today," she murmured, her green eyes searching my face. "Perhaps we should head home soon. I think all this excitement might be a bit much for you."
I wanted to protest, to somehow convey that I was far from overwhelmed. In fact, I was eager for more. But trapped in this infant body, all I could do was gurgle and wave my arms, hoping she would understand my desire to stay and explore further.
I took a deep breath, willing my excitement to subside. As I calmed down, a realization struck me why had I never questioned being called "little one" before? The fog in my mind began to clear, and I remembered my actual age. I wasn't truly an infant, but a reincarnated soul with the memories of my past life.
The reason for my mental lapse became apparent. The shock of reincarnation, combined with the overwhelming new sensations of this magical world, had temporarily suppressed my adult consciousness. It was only now, amidst the stimulating environment of the market, that my true self was beginning to reassert itself.
As for why my parents hadn't named me yet, I recalled hearing whispers of a naming custom in this world. Children here weren't named immediately after birth, but rather during a special ceremony when they reached a certain age. This tradition stemmed from a belief that a child's true nature needed time to manifest before they could be given a fitting name.
With this newfound clarity, I settled back into my mother's arms, observing the market with a calmer, more focused gaze. The sights and sounds were still captivating, but now I processed them with a mix of childlike wonder and adult analysis.
My mother, noticing my sudden calmness, smiled down at me. "That's better, little one," she said softly. "Let's finish our shopping, shall we?"
As she moved through the market stalls, I continued to take in the magical atmosphere around us, my mind now working overtime to understand this new world I found myself in.
As my mother navigated through the bustling market, I focused intently on the magic users around us. My eyes darted from one fascinating display to another, absorbing every detail I could.
Near a colorful fruit stand, I spotted a young woman with flowing auburn hair. She held her hand over a wilting plant, and to my amazement, a soft green glow emanated from her palm. The plant seemed to perk up, its leaves unfurling and regaining their vibrant color. Plant magic, I realized with excitement.
A few stalls down, an elderly man with a long white beard caught my attention. He muttered something under his breath, and suddenly, the broom beside him sprang to life, sweeping the area around his stall on its own. Enchantment magic, perhaps?
My gaze was then drawn to a group of children playing near the fountain. One boy clapped his hands, and tiny sparks danced between his palms. Another girl blew gently, creating a small whirlwind that lifted fallen leaves into a swirling dance.
Each display of magic filled me with wonder and a burning desire to learn. I tried to memorize the gestures, the words, the feeling in the air when magic was performed. Even though I couldn't practice now, I was determined to remember these skills for when I was older and able to control my own magic.
As we passed by a bookstore, I noticed tomes with glowing runes on their spines. I made a mental note to find a way to access those books as soon as I was able to read in this new world.
I decided it was time to take a more active approach in my magical education. Spotting a friendlylooking woman performing minor illusions for a group of children, I saw my opportunity. I began to squirm and babble excitedly in my mother's arms, reaching out towards the illusionist with grabby hands.
My mother, noticing my enthusiasm, chuckled softly. "Oh my, someone's certainly curious today," she said, her voice warm with amusement. She adjusted her hold on me and approached the illusionist.
"Excuse me," my mother called out politely. "My little one seems quite fascinated by your magic. Would you mind if we watched for a moment?"
The illusionist turned to us, her eyes twinkling with mirth. She had long silver hair that seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly light, and her fingers were adorned with delicate rings that glowed faintly.
"But of course!" she replied, her voice melodious. "It's always a joy to see young ones take an interest in the magical arts. Perhaps your child has a talent for it?"
As we drew closer, I focused all my attention on the illusionist's hands, watching intently as she wove intricate patterns in the air. Sparks of light danced from her fingertips, coalescing into the shape of a tiny, glowing butterfly that fluttered around my head.
I couldn't help but let out a delighted giggle, my eyes wide with wonder. The illusionist smiled at my reaction, leaning in closer.
"You like that, little one?" she asked softly. "Here, let me show you something even more special."