The sun peeked over the horizon, bathing the modest wooden house in warm hues of gold and amber. Today was a special day—Sylvie's ninth birthday. The scent of freshly baked honey oat bread filled the air, courtesy of Mira, who had been up since dawn preparing a small but meaningful feast. Despite their meager means, birthdays were still celebrated in the Vale household, a testament to Mira's unwavering warmth and Callan's pride in his children.
For Sylvie, this day was not just about turning nine; it was a moment of reflection. She had spent the past year reshaping her life, pushing her limits, and crafting a path that was entirely her own. Gone was the frail girl who had once succumbed to mana sickness. In her place stood a determined young tinker with a mind brimming with invention and a heart set on making a difference.
A Year of Growth
The months leading up to this day had been a whirlwind of discovery. Her newly evolved [Tinkerer's Archive] had accelerated her growth beyond anything she had imagined. Perfect recall allowed her to retain every intricate detail of her past-life knowledge, no longer hindered by the fleeting nature of memory. The ability to analyze materials at a fundamental level had refined her craftsmanship, while her magical enhancements imbued creations with properties that defied the ordinary.
Her father's absence due to his duties as a soldier had given her a sense of independence, pushing her to become even more self-sufficient. Sylas had grown as well, now wielding his sword with the confidence of someone who had faced real danger. Yet, despite his growing skill, even he had begun to acknowledge that his sister's mind was a weapon in its own right.
During the past year, Sylvie had transformed the household with her inventions. The evaporative cooling system had been refined, keeping their home comfortable even during the sweltering summers. A rudimentary pulley system lightened the burden of hauling water from the well. Small wind-driven fans dotted the windows, a luxury unheard of in the poorer districts. Every project was a step forward, proof that she was not just surviving—she was thriving.
However, the most ambitious project had been the bicycle. After months of adjustments, melted hinges, reforged chains, and a painstaking process of trial and error, she had finally succeeded in creating a working model. The first ride had been exhilarating, a moment of pure liberation that had reminded her of the freedom she once had in another life. Now, her bike was a familiar sight in the village, an object of curiosity and admiration.
And yet, through all her advancements, she had never forgotten the core principle of innovation—progress should be shared. She had begun secretly fixing tools for the townsfolk, slipping them back to their owners under the cover of night. Farmers who once struggled with broken plows found them mysteriously repaired, and rusted nails in fences straightened as if by magic. No one knew the culprit, but whispers of a 'Ghostly Handyman' had started to spread.
The Birthday Gift
The morning passed in a blur of small joys—Sylas teasing her about getting older, Mira fussing over her hair, and a quiet moment where she simply sat outside, watching the town wake up. But the real surprise came when her mother handed her a small, leather-bound book wrapped in a simple ribbon.
"A proper inventor needs a place to keep her ideas," Mira said with a smile.
Sylvie's fingers traced the edges of the notebook, her heart swelling at the thoughtfulness of the gift. It wasn't just any notebook—it was a symbol. A place to document her inventions, theories, and discoveries. A tangible step forward in her journey.
"I—Thank you," she murmured, uncharacteristically at a loss for words.
But the surprises weren't over yet. As the day wore on and the modest celebration continued, there was a knock at the door. When Sylvie opened it, she was met with an unexpected sight—Harland, the blacksmith, standing with his arms crossed, holding a wrapped bundle.
"I don't do gifts," he grumbled, pushing the bundle toward her, "but I figured a little apprentice should have proper tools."
Sylvie's breath caught as she unwrapped the package to reveal a beautifully crafted set of precision tools—pliers, screwdrivers, and chisels, all forged with an artisan's care.
"These ain't just for show," Harland said. "I expect you to use 'em."
A slow grin spread across her face. "Oh, I will."
That night, after the festivities had wound down and the house had fallen into a quiet lull, Sylvie sat beneath the stars with her new notebook in her lap. By the dim glow of a candle, she flipped to the first page and began to write.
Project Ideas:
1. Improve the bicycle's chain durability (iron too brittle—consider alloy?)
2. Design a water pump for the village well
3. Improve efficiency of the cooling system.
4. Develop lightweight armor (for Sylas and Father?)
5. Add magic to my creations.
....................
The list grew as the night deepened, each idea a stepping stone toward something greater.
Finally, as exhaustion tugged at her, she closed the book and leaned back, letting the cool night air wash over her.
She was nine now.
And she had only just begun.
[Updated Status]
Name: Sylvie
Age: 9
Class: Unawakened
Attributes:
• Strength: 5 (↑1 from combat training and manual labor)
• Intelligence: 10
• Agility: 6 (↑1 from physical activity and bicycle riding)
• Mana: 20 (↑5 from extended use of [Tinkerer's Archive])
• Dexterity: 13 (↑2 from advanced tinkering and precise tool work)
Aspect:
• [Tinkerer's Archive] (Rank 1) LV3
• Perfect Recall: Complete and flawless memory of all past-life knowledge.
• Magical Enhancement: Can imbue magical properties into objects, refining their function.
• Advanced Analysis: Breaks down an object's material composition and structure.
• Mental Processing Boost: Increased ability to sort vast amounts of technical data without fatigue.
• Blueprint Projection: Can mentally visualize and deconstruct complex machinery before assembly.
Equipment:
• Shifting Fang (Form Manipulation) – Can shift into different forms if mana is inputted with an image in mind.
Sylvie closed her status screen with a satisfied nod.
Happy birthday to me, she thought with a grin.
Tomorrow, she would make something new.