I don't remember much of my past life—just flashes, images that haunt me from time to time like a distant dream, almost too far to reach. I was just a regular guy, or so I thought. But now, here I am, born into a world of magic, of beasts, and the unknown. It's strange. How did I end up here? All I can recall is a flash of pain... and then nothing. And now, I am someone new, a child in a world brimming with wonders.
The first memory I have of my new life is that of warmth. Soft, like a blanket wrapped around me, and the gentle rocking motion. There was a faint scent of herbs in the air, something sweet and fresh, but sharp in its unfamiliarity. I didn't understand what was happening. I couldn't. I was just a baby, a newborn, but there was something about the world that felt... alive. As if the very air itself was charged with magic.
I opened my eyes for the first time, blinking in the dim light. Everything was blurry, but slowly, my surroundings began to make sense. The room was simple, yet elegant. Wooden beams stretched overhead, glowing faintly in the soft light of floating orbs, casting a warm, golden hue. There was a soft murmur around me, voices that made my ears tingle, like melodies from another world. One voice stood out—a woman's voice, soft but strong, calling my name.
"His name is Oroz," she said, her voice filled with warmth. "Oroz Kimberg. He will be the one."
I wanted to ask, "The one for what?" but all I could do was wriggle in confusion, my tiny fingers grasping at the air. I didn't know it then, but I was already destined for something greater than what any child could understand.
Over the next few months, my world became a blur of faces, new and old, gentle hands that held me and nursed me, and soft songs that lulled me to sleep. But even then, as a child, I felt the strange pull of this world, as though I had been here before. The people around me were different—dressed in strange clothes, with patterns I had never seen, some of them even wearing robes and carrying magical staffs. But most fascinating of all were the creatures I'd sometimes see out of the corner of my eye. They weren't beasts in the traditional sense—no, these creatures were part of the world itself. Some had wings that shimmered with color, others had bodies that seemed to fade into mist. The more I looked, the more I saw the magic that existed in everything.
As the months passed, I began to understand more. My body grew rapidly, as if the world itself was teaching me to adapt to the magic that flowed around me. My senses were sharper than they had ever been in my past life—sounds that I couldn't hear before were now clear as day, and the colors around me were brighter, richer, more intense. The air hummed with power, and I could feel it. It was like I was absorbing it with every breath I took.
One day, when I was about two years old, I touched something that would change the course of my life. It was a small, smooth stone that my mother had left on the windowsill. It was ordinary in every sense, except when I touched it. The moment my fingers brushed against it, a surge of energy coursed through me, like a bolt of lightning. My body shook, and I cried out in surprise, but what shocked me the most was how the stone seemed to... react. It vibrated, glowing faintly in my hand.
"Mother!" I had screamed, more from instinct than understanding. My mother rushed to my side, her eyes wide with concern.
She took the stone from my hands and held it in her palm, calming my frenzied breathing. "It is the Mana Stone," she said softly. "A gift, Oroz. A sign that your magic is already beginning to awaken."
Magic. The word lingered in my mind. I didn't know what it meant, but the feeling that surged through me when I touched the stone was undeniable. I felt the energy, the power that flowed through my veins, and I couldn't help but wonder—was I always meant to have this?
As I grew older, the signs became clearer. By the age of three, I was already able to manipulate small amounts of magic. Simple things—lighting a candle, lifting a feather with a flick of my wrist—but it was magic, real magic, coursing through me like a river. My parents watched me with a mixture of awe and concern, as if they knew something I didn't.
"Your magic is strong, Oroz," my father once said, his voice full of quiet pride. "But remember, it is a gift and a burden. You must learn to control it, or it will control you."
His words stayed with me. I didn't understand what he meant by "burden," but I could see the weight in his eyes. I was different. I knew that. But what did that mean for my future?
It was around that time that I met my first true friend, though I wouldn't fully understand what he was until later. I had been playing by the forest's edge, near the glowing trees, when I saw it. A small, wolf-like creature, its body covered in shimmering fur that flickered in and out of existence. It wasn't like anything I had seen before.
"Hey there," I whispered, unsure if the creature could understand me.
The creature tilted its head, its eyes glowing softly. It stepped closer, its steps light, like it was walking on air. And then, to my shock, it spoke.
"Who are you?" the creature asked, its voice a soft, ethereal whisper.
I blinked in disbelief. I was three years old—why could this creature talk? "I'm Oroz," I said, my voice shaky but determined. "Who are you?"
"I am Zai, the watcher of the forest," it replied. "You're different. I can feel your magic. It's... strong."
I looked at the creature, still in awe. "Magic?"
Zai nodded, its glowing eyes watching me closely. "Yes, Oroz. You are one of the chosen. You will learn much, but remember, with great power comes great responsibility. You must choose your path wisely."
I didn't know what it meant at the time, but the weight of those words settled deep in my heart. What was I meant for? What path would I take? These were questions I could not yet answer, but I knew deep down that this world—this new life—wasn't just an accident. My destiny had already begun, even if I couldn't fully understand it.
The days blurred into weeks, and the weeks into months. By the time I was four, I had already begun learning the ways of magic—simple spells, elemental control, and even some rudimentary healing techniques. My mother, a mage in her own right, took me under her wing, teaching me everything she knew. She often said, "Magic is not just power, Oroz. It's balance. You must learn to listen to the world around you, to understand its rhythm."
I didn't fully grasp her words, but I understood enough to know that magic was more than just a tool. It was part of me, part of this world. And somehow, I knew that my journey had only just begun.
But one thing was certain. As the days passed and I grew older, I could feel it deep within me: something was coming. Something that would test me in ways I couldn't yet imagine.