Two years have passed since my birth. Two long years that I've tried to make the most of. The first weeks were a time of confusion and strangeness. Reincarnation — a concept hard to grasp even for the average person — was almost impossible for someone like me, with a logical and analytical mind, to fully accept.
I don't know what world I've found myself in. It's certainly not Earth. And no, it can't be any part of its past. The proof? Magic.
I lack sufficient data to draw any concrete conclusions. Is magic an innate ability, or can it be learned? I even considered the possibility that it might be invoked through objects. However, the near-total lack of information leaves me uncertain about everything. My knowledge is mostly drawn from the fantasy books I read in my youth, but that's far too little to solve this mystery.
Over the last two years, I've had the chance to witness magic only twice, both times performed by the same person — Lady Aldona, the elderly woman who assisted at my birth.
The first time was on the day I was born when her finger glowed, and I felt vitality and warmth radiate through me. I suspect it was some form of healing or strengthening magic, though I can't be sure.
The second time was when I was about a year old. My mother, holding me in her arms, took me out for a walk. It was my first time outside our cramped chamber. I discovered we lived in a small village of only a few hundred people. The sight that greeted me was bleak and disheartening: emaciated faces worn down by the daily grind of farming, wooden or stone homes that wouldn't meet any modern building standards, crooked walls, thatched roofs, and rough planks. Poverty. That one word best described the village.
The village was bordered on one side by a dense forest. In the morning, when it was shrouded in mist and every leaf was covered in dew, I felt as though the forest hid some secret. Something was watching me from within. I never felt comfortable near it and had no intention of venturing there.
On the other side lay farmlands, and a path cut through the middle of the village. It was less a road and more a track worn down by the peasants walking back and forth.
During our walk, I noticed a commotion in front of one of the buildings. My mother, curious, moved toward the gathering. Before we reached the scene, I smelled something familiar — blood. As we drew closer, I saw what had happened.
A boy, around twelve years old, lay in front of the building. His leg was in a horrifying state. His pants were torn, and the wounds on his thigh resembled gashes, oozing dark red blood. It reminded me of injuries I'd once seen on someone attacked by wild dogs.
Just as I thought there was no hope, the crowd began to part. In the center appeared an older woman. She walked among the onlookers, her gaze lingering on each of them.
— Lady Aldona! Please, help my son! — the boy's mother cried, nearly begging.
That's when I learned her full name.
— What are you all staring at? Don't you have better things to do? — Her voice was sharp, her words laced with fury. — I'll find something for you to do if you don't move!
She certainly had a fiery temper...
The crowd began to disperse silently, as though fearing her wrath. Everyone avoided her gaze. My mother also started to retreat, but before we left, I saw something extraordinary.
Lady Aldona approached the boy, placed her hand on his injured leg, and whispered something. In that instant, a glow emanated from her hand. The wounds seemed to respond to a thread of healing energy. While it didn't fully heal his leg, the bleeding stopped, though the scars remained. A few days later, I learned that the boy had died. Perhaps it was the fault of the animal that attacked him — maybe it was venomous.
That day, I gained my first insight into magic. It isn't the omnipotent force I knew from books. Here, magic can't fix everything. Maybe it's a matter of magical resources, or perhaps Lady Aldona isn't a particularly powerful mage, living as she does in this impoverished village. I don't know...
A few weeks after my birth, once I fully accepted the situation — reincarnation — I decided to act. My logical mind demanded a plan for survival in this world. To thrive here, I needed a clear goal.
I have a few advantages. First, I've been fully conscious since the day of my birth, and with the malleable mind of a child, I learn quickly. Mastering the language should take little time, as will learning to write and read. But I must not overdo it. If I were to start speaking in full sentences as a two-year-old, it could raise suspicions. My mother might see me as something supernatural and even burn me at the stake. I need time.
Second, I possess knowledge from my previous life. While I'm not sure how to utilize it yet, there will undoubtedly be moments when my academic knowledge proves useful. For now, I must focus on practical skills.
Third, I've created a plan of action:
Master the language. Even if I don't speak, I must understand what the household members are saying.
Absorb all available information. Who are these people? What is this kingdom? What system of government does it have? Are there dangers in this world? And, of course, its history.
Learn practical skills. Knife sharpening, farming, hunting, navigation, map reading, and basic swordsmanship.
Learn magic. If I have the chance to live in a world like this, I won't squander it. If the opportunity arises, I want to learn magic and use it to my advantage.
Learn to write and read. This will likely be difficult to achieve in the village, as, from what I remember of history, most peasants were illiterate.