I sneaked out again.
It wasn't that hard, honestly. The maids thought I was napping, Father was busy with knights, and Mother was reading in her room. Nobody checked if a three-year-old could slip past doors.
"…Heh. Too easy."
I muttered under my breath, grinning like some villain. Then I realized how stupid it looked — a toddler laughing to himself while dragging a pillow down the corridor.
I needed the pillow for cover. If someone saw me sitting on the floor for too long, I could say, "Nap." Three years old meant nobody questioned naps. Perfect alibi.
I found my spot — a little storage room that smelled like wood polish and dust. Sunlight came in through a tiny window. Safe.
I plopped down, hugged my knees, and whispered, "Okay. Time to test mana again."
I shut my eyes. From the books I sneaked out of the library, mana was "life energy, circulating in nodes, guided by will."
Fancy words.
For me, it was more like warmth trickling in my stomach. Sometimes heavy, sometimes slippery, like trying to grab smoke.
"Focus," I whispered, pressing my hand to my chest. "It's just energy. Don't force it. Guide it."
For a moment, nothing. Just my breathing.
Then a small spark. A tingle in my palm. My eyes widened. "Yes!"
A dim glow shimmered on my tiny hand, like a faint candle flame.
"Finally… progress!" I grinned, teeth showing. "Not bad, Adrian. Genius baby, future ruler, check."
The glow flickered. My concentration snapped, and the light fizzled out.
"…Ugh." I flopped back on the pillow. "Why can't you just stay?"
I stared at my little fingers, muttering like an old man scolding broken tools.
I tried again. And again. Each time, mana gathered, then slipped away.
My frustration grew. In my past life, I had studied theories, practiced, failed, tried again. Here, even with a child's body, I thought I could push past the limits.
"C'mon. Just… one stable glow. One!"
Mana surged. This time, stronger. Heat crawled up my arm, into my veins. The glow flared bright — not faint anymore.
But then it kept building.
"…Wait. Too much."
The warmth turned into burning. My small chest tightened. Pressure built in my head, like a balloon ready to pop.
"Stop. Stop, stop—!" I gasped, clutching my nose as a warm trickle spilled out.
Blood.
My hands shook. The glow spread out of control, veins on my arms faintly glowing gold.
"Not… good…" My voice broke.
The room spun. My ears rang like bells.
I barely had time to think this was stupid before the mana burst out of me in a sharp shock — like air rushing out of a popped balloon.
And then everything went black.
Darkness
Floating.
That's what it felt like. Floating in some endless black.
I could hear echoes, voices, far away.
"…Adrian?"
"…my baby, please—"
I wanted to answer, but my mouth didn't move. My thoughts felt heavy.
Idiot. You overdid it. Three years old, and you think you can handle a full surge?
I clenched my teeth in the void. Or… at least I imagined I did.
I can't waste this life. Not like the last one. I won't.
The voices grew louder. A hand, warm and familiar, squeezed mine.
I woke up to the soft warmth of a blanket covering me. My head was pounding, my body felt heavy, and my nose… ugh, it was stuffed up like I had a bad cold. When I touched it, I felt dried blood.
"Adrian!"
My eyes blinked open. Mom's face was right there, pale with worry, her blue eyes shaking like she had been crying. Beside her, Dad was sitting stiff in his chair, his usual calm expression cracked with lines of worry.
"…Mom?" My voice came out weak, barely above a whisper.
She immediately cupped my cheeks. "Don't talk, baby. You scared me half to death. Do you know you were out for almost half a day?"
"Half a… day?" I groaned. "That's too long…"
Dad's eyes narrowed slightly. "Adrian. What happened?" His tone was low, serious.
I looked away. I couldn't exactly tell them, "Oh hey, I was experimenting with mana, like some lunatic, until I fried my brain."
"Nothing…" I muttered.
"Nothing?" Dad repeated, frowning.
Mom sighed, brushing my messy hair back. "Leon, don't be too hard on him. He's still a child."
"He's three, Celestia. And three-year-olds don't just faint and bleed mana out their nose."
My lips twitched. Damn. They weren't going to let this go easily.
Mom leaned closer. "Adrian… sweetheart, were you trying something?"
I hesitated. My instincts screamed at me to deny it. But then I saw her face — the slight red under her eyes, proof she'd been crying while I was unconscious. My chest ached.
"…I just wanted to see," I mumbled.
"See what?" Dad pressed.
"…Mana."
The room went silent.
Mom blinked, stunned. Dad's brow furrowed deeper.
"You were… experimenting with mana?" he asked slowly.
I swallowed. "Yeah. I thought… if I could feel it, I could… do more."
"Adrian." Dad's voice turned sharp, almost scolding. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that is for your body? At your age, your mana channels aren't even developed. Forcing mana through them could've…" He cut himself off, jaw tightening.
"Could've what?" I asked quietly.
Mom held me tighter, voice trembling. "It could've killed you."
…
Oh.
The weight of her words pressed on me. I thought I'd been careful. I thought I could handle it, since my mind wasn't really that of a three-year-old. But… I really almost—
"I didn't know," I whispered.
Mom shook her head, hugging me closer. "Of course you didn't. You're still so little. But please, Adrian… don't ever do that again without telling us."
Dad leaned forward, his sharp eyes locking on mine. "Promise me."
I bit my lip. "But if I don't practice… how will I get stronger?"
Dad's brows shot up. "Stronger? You're three!"
"I'm not just three," I muttered before I could stop myself.
Both of them froze.
Crap.
Dad leaned back, eyes narrowing like he was trying to read me. "What do you mean by that?"
"…Nothing," I quickly said, looking away. My heart was racing. Did I slip too much?
Mom glanced between us, confused. "Leon…"
He exhaled slowly, then shook his head. "Adrian. You're… special. I can feel it. But being special doesn't mean rushing. Power isn't worth your life."
Mom nodded quickly. "Listen to your father, darling. If you want to learn, we'll guide you. But please, not in secret."
I stayed quiet.
Mom's hand stroked my hair gently. "Adrian, can you promise me that? No more alone experiments?"
I stared at her. Her eyes were soft, begging me. My chest felt tight again. I hated seeing her like this.
"…Okay," I said finally. "I promise."
Her face softened in relief, and she kissed my forehead.
Dad, though, kept his eyes on me a moment longer. He didn't look convinced. But he didn't push either.
Later that night, after they thought I was asleep, I overheard them whispering.
"He's not normal," Dad said quietly.
"Leon—"
"You saw it too, Celestia. The mana in his body is… unnatural. A normal child couldn't even sense it at his age. But he not only felt it, he forced it out. That's…"
"Dangerous," Mom finished softly.
"…Yes. Dangerous."
There was silence, then Mom whispered, "What should we do?"
Dad's voice was firm. "We guide him. Before his recklessness gets him killed."
…
I closed my eyes, pretending to sleep.
Guide me, huh?
Well. Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea.
But still… I couldn't shake off the hunger inside me. The craving for strength. Even if they held my hand through it, I knew I'd push further than they'd want.
Because I wasn't just their child. I was me. And I wasn't going to waste this second life.
Later that day, while Mom was making soup, Dad left the room. When he returned, he wasn't alone.
Beside him was a tall man in navy robes, carrying a staff with faintly glowing runes. His beard was short and well-trimmed, and his eyes scanned me like I was some rare artifact.
"This is Master Kael," Dad introduced. His voice was calm, but there was something tight underneath. "He's one of the court's senior magi."
I blinked. "…Hi?"
Kael bowed politely. "Young prince. May I?"
"May you what?" I frowned.
"Check your mana flow." He smiled kindly, though his eyes flickered with curiosity. "It won't hurt."
Mom looked uneasy. "Leon…"
"It's necessary," Dad cut in firmly. "If our son is already… touching mana, we need to know what's happening in his body."
I pouted but didn't resist. "Fine."
Kael knelt beside me, placing two fingers lightly on my wrist. His mana seeped into me gently — warm, probing, careful.
At first, he looked calm. Then his brows slowly furrowed. His eyes widened slightly.
"…Impossible," he muttered under his breath.
Dad immediately caught it. "What do you see?"
Kael didn't answer right away. His face had turned serious, almost pale. He pulled his hand back and stood, smoothing his robes.
"Your Mahesty, may I speak with His Majesty privately?" he asked.
Mom stiffened. "…Why privately?"
"It's… nothing alarming. But it is better discussed outside the child's ears."
Her lips pressed thin, clearly unhappy, but Dad nodded. "We'll step out."
I was left alone in the room, but I wasn't dumb. I crawled to the door and pressed my ear against it.
Kael's voice was low. "Your Majesty… this child's mana is not natural. It's… too dense, too refined. At his age, there should barely be sparks of flow. But his mana core… it's as if it's already been tempered."
Dad's voice was hard. "Tempered?"
"Yes. Like a grown mage who's trained for years. His channels are abnormally strong, but unstable. That's why he collapsed — he's forcing a body too small to carry it."
Silence. Then Dad asked, "What does that mean?"
Kael hesitated. "…I do not wish to alarm you, but… children like him don't just appear. Either it is divine blessing… or…" He lowered his voice further. "…something far older."
"…Older?"
"Reincarnation. Possession. A cursed soul."
My chest went cold.
Dad's voice dropped. "Watch your words, Kael."
"I speak only truth, sire. His mana is not natural. Whether blessing or curse… only time will tell."
Silence stretched. Then Dad said, firm and quiet, "Not a word of this leaves here. Understood?"
"…Of course, Your Majesty."
I backed away from the door quickly, heart pounding.
So they noticed. They noticed already.
I flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
"…Damn."