Chapter 16 - Mysterious Kid
It had been several weeks since Mom last taught us history. Now she was moving on to the duller stuff; kingdom founding dates, long-dead rulers, and political mergers that sounded more like bad marriages than grand events.
We'd just wrapped up another one of those painfully boring lessons. Lyra and I listened as we actually got a hang on history.
Now, back in my room, I was trying to focus on something more interesting: magic.
On the windowsill sat a small flowerpot. The flower inside was a gift from Mom, given to me last birthmonth. She said it would teach me patience, care, and responsibility. I sat on my knees and opened my palm toward the plant. A gentle warmth gathered in my hand as mana pulsed beneath my skin. Slowly, water began to form. They were shimmering, delicate, and round.
Right then, my nose twitched.
"Aaah… CHOO!"
The sneeze burst out before I could stop it. The waterball shot forward and splashed down like a miniature tidal wave.
The flower's head bent backward with a soft snap, the stem giving out under the sudden weight.
"...Whoops," I muttered, my stomach dropping slightly.
I leaned in, wincing at the poor little plant. The petals were intact, but the stem had snapped in two. Muttering an apology under my breath, I gathered more mana and focused. A faint glow traced along the break as the flower slowly straightened, the fibers knitting back together.
"There," I said, a little proud. "Watering done. Enjoy the sunlight, buddy."
I gave one of the leaves a gentle, affectionate pat as if it were a domestic pet.
Suddenly, my mother's voice boomed up from downstairs. "Kyro!"
I stood, brushing off my knees. "Coming!"
By the time my boots hit the bottom of the staircase, Mother was already standing by the door, holding a small, tightly tied canvas sack in her hands.
"Could you please deliver these seasonal seeds to Mr. Hans down by the lower fields?" she asked.
I nodded smoothly, taking the sack from her hand. "Consider it done."
Lyra was off doing laundry today, which meant chores were divided. Delivering seeds wasn't the most exciting task, but I didn't mind.
I walked down the dirt path with the warm sun on my back. After delivering the seeds to Mr. Hans, I found myself lingering near the wheat fields, where the golden stalks shimmered beneath the afternoon light. They swayed gently in the breeze, like waves in a silent sea. There was something peaceful about it, so different from the chaos I remembered in my past life.
A soft gust of wind brushed through my hair.
"I wish the person who healed me when I was four was here…" I murmured. "Perhaps if he was here, he could have formally instructed me in the deeper mechanics of magic."
Feeling restless, I turned off the path and made my way toward a grassy hill just beyond the wheat. It wasn't very tall, but from the top, you could see the fields stretch into the horizon. A lone oak tree stood at the center, its shadow reaching out like an open arm.
I climbed the slope and sat down directly beneath the deep shade. The dense leaves filtered the intense sunlight flawlessly—rendering the environment warm enough to feel incredibly cozy, yet cool enough to prevent sweat from building.
Back in my previous life, I had absolutely never possessed access to locations like this. I had been a standard, institutionalized suburban kid, permanently surrounded by asphalt, concrete sidewalks, and highly regulated lawns where even stepping on the grass carried societal penalties. But here? This vast countryside was completely quiet. Entirely untouched by industrial vibe. It felt liberating, in a profoundly structural way.
Moments like this... I found myself deeply cherishing them.
Just as I was preparing to lay my head back against the grass and completely slip into a state of relaxation, the distinct sound of soft, rhythmic footsteps behind me cut through the silence.
I turned my head.
A young girl was slowly ascending the crest of the hill. She possessed stark black hair, was dressed in a pristine white summer dress, and her eyelids were pressed tightly shut. Her small arms were wrapped protectively around a thick, leather-bound book clutched securely against her chest. She appeared to be precisely my age, perhaps a fraction smaller in skeletal frame.
She ground to a halt a mere two feet behind my position, speaking in a tone that was entirely calm, yet completely unyielding.
"Move."
I blinked, my internal systems short-circuiting slightly. "Huh?"
"You're in my spot."
I stared at her. "…What spot?"
She pointed straight down at where I was sitting. "That spot."
"But I just got here."
She didn't even flinch. "I've been coming here since spring. You're sitting on my thinking spot."
She said it like it was common knowledge. I opened my mouth to protest, but her expression didn't change. Eyes still closed, face calm, tone unwavering.
"Move," she repeated, her voice dropping a fraction.
I stared at her for three seconds, realized the absolute futility of the argument, and let out a long sigh. I shifted my body, scooting several inches to the left.
Without a single word of appreciation, and without even a cursory glance in my direction, she immediately sat down in the exact space I had just vacated, her white dress settling fluidly over the green grass like a ripple in water. She didn't acknowledge my existence further.
What just happened?
I slowly turned my head, analyzing her profile with wide, intensely curious eyes.
Who is this kid?
She just sat there perfectly still, the thick book resting neatly on her lap, her sightless face oriented straight ahead toward the horizon. The wind gently tugged at the fabric of her dress and the strands of her dark hair, but her physical frame remained entirely motionless. She looked precisely like one of those pristine marble statues society carves to commemorate a long-forgotten historical hero; serene, quiet, and completely ignoring me.
I cleared my throat. "So, uh… what's your name? I've never really seen you before."
A simple question, friendly enough. A tiny effort to start a conversation.
If this were my previous life on Earth, there was absolutely zero probability I would have ever spoken to a stranger. I had barely understood how to interact with human beings back then, having spent consecutive years holed up in a dark bedroom, rotting my brain in front of glowing monitors. It had done a massive number on my social development. But in this life, I was consciously trying to be better. At least, I thought I was.
She offered absolutely nothing in return.
It was like talking to a rock.
Panic crept in. What do you do when someone doesn't even acknowledge your existence?
A familiar wave of mild panic crept into my chest. I understood how to communicate with children to a moderate degree, well, Lyra's local friends came by the property occasionally, and I had successfully reverse-engineered the basic parameters of small talk. We weren't close, but I could maintain a standard dialogue without stammering like an idiot.
But this situation? This was next-level bullshitery.
Feeling entirely defeated, I stood up from the grass and began walking away. Halfway down the slope of the hill, I paused, casting a final glance back up toward the oak tree. She had already opened her book, calmly flipping a page with her fingers as if I had never structurally existed in her reality.
I shook my head in sheer bewilderment and trudged back home.
***
The next day came quickly.
After finishing my chores, I headed back to the same hill. I sat a bit to the side, giving her space, just in case. And right on cue, she appeared again. Same black hair. Different white dress, still a dress nonetheless. Same closed eyes.
She didn't greet me. She didn't ask me to move this time either. She just sat beside me like it was completely normal. We sat like that for hours. No words. No gestures. Just two kids under a tree in silence, as if time forgot us.
Then, just as the sun began to shift across the sky, she turned her head toward me.
Her face was blank. Calm.
Then she spoke.
"Can you leave me alone? Your ugly face is bothering me."
I flinched.
What?! Your eyes aren't even open! I screamed internally.
That was… brutal.
"Ouch. Okay then," I said with a wince, standing up.
I didn't argue. I just left.
***
Day three.
This time, I got clever.
I walked toward the hill like normal, but right before I reached the top, I veered off and ducked behind it. The tree's angle was far enough to cover me. From that angle, I had a perfect view without being seen. She arrived, exactly on schedule. She scanned the area, saw no one, and sat down at her usual spot. Then she opened her book and began reading quietly.
That was my cue.
I crept up the hill from behind, each step slow and careful, barely making a sound.
When I got close enough, I leaned in just above her shoulder.
"What are you reading?"
"WAH!"
She leapt to her feet like a cat, her book slipping from her hands. Her face contorted in pure panic.
I caught a glimpse of the pages; there were drawings. Not words. Beautiful sketches, actually. Inked by hand.
"H-Hey! I'm not gonna hurt you! Why are you—"
She stepped back, raising her hand with sharp precision.
"Oh God of Nature, awaken the bones of the land and bend them to my will!"
Wait… Is she chanting a spell?
"Geo Push!"
Boom.
The earth beneath me buckled as a stone pillar shot out and slammed straight into my ribs.
"OOF—!"
I flew backward, rolling down the hill like a sack of potatoes. By the time I stopped, I was face-first in the dirt, clutching my chest. My ribs hurt. A lot.
I groaned. "Ugh… that might've cracked something…"
Then I heard her footsteps. Fast, frantic, rushing down the hill. I turned back to the hill and she was running the opposite side, leaving me in pain.
Oh man… what was her deal?
I clutched my chest tighter, like I'd just been rejected before even getting the chance to ask someone out.
"Aughhhh..." I groaned louder, burying my face in my arm. The pain in my ribs pulsed with every breath. I didn't even notice the tears until I felt one roll down my cheek.
I wasn't crying from the hit. Not just from that, anyway. I was just… trying to talk. I was trying to be normal, and I got punished for it.
"That wasn't fair..." I whispered, voice shaking as tears hit the grassy ground, "I didn't do anything wrong..."
I stayed there, curled up on the grass, trying to blink away the sting in my eyes. Then, I heard it. Footsteps, they were light but deliberate, and coming closer. A shadow fell over me, blocking the sun.
I looked up, and there she was again.
Same girl, and the same blank expression. But something was different this time, her shoulders were tense, and her brows slightly pinched.
"W-What do you want?" I snapped, voice brittle. "Here to finish the job, you little—"
But before I could finish, she knelt beside me. Her hand reached out, hovering above my side. Soft green light shimmered from her palm.
"By Lunareth's light and breath, restore what lies in pain and death. With care I speak, with hope I guide, let wounds be healed from deep inside."
My eyes widened. The words and the flow of mana. I knew this feeling. It was the same warmth that healed me when I was four.
"Heal."
The glow from her hand pulsed, then gently faded as the warmth sank into my ribs. The pain dulled, then vanished entirely. I blinked.
I could breathe again. Fully & freely. I slowly sat up.
"You—you know healing magic?"
She didn't answer. Her hand lowered. Her eyes, still closed, stayed focused on something far away. I stared at her for a moment, rubbing my side. Not even a bruise left. Her casting was clean. Efficient.
"…Thanks," I muttered, brushing dust from my shirt.
Still, she said nothing. Just stood up quietly, turned around, and started to walk away.
"Wait."
She paused mid-step but didn't turn.
"W-Why'd you heal me?"
A few seconds of silence passed.
Then she said, almost too quiet to hear, "I didn't mean to hit you that hard."
I blinked. That was... as close to an apology as I was going to get, wasn't it?
She resumed walking, heading to the dirt path as I sat there for a moment longer, watching her small figure move, her book still clutched tightly under one arm.
"Kyro!"
A familiar voice echoed across the open field.
I turned to see Lyra standing at the edge of the path, hands cupped around her mouth like a trumpet.
"GET YOUR UGLY BUTT BACK HOME! MOM HAS NEWS SHE WANTED TO SHARE!"
I blinked, startled. "Okay!" I called back.
I turned one last time toward the dirt path, hoping to catch a glimpse of the girl again, but she was gone.
Huh? Where did she—
But before my thoughts could even finish forming, I heard the thunderous stomp of boots pounding across the dirt. I turned.
"RAGHHHH!" Lyra roared, barreling toward me like a wild animal.
"Ack—!"
She grabbed my wrist with a death grip and immediately started sprinting back toward the house, dragging me like a ragdoll.
"AH— LYRA, YOU'RE HURTING ME!"
"Then move faster! Every second you're not moving pisses me off!"
There it was. A classic older sibling line. I stumbled and flailed behind her, my feet barely catching the ground as she hauled me down the path like a sack of grain. And just like that, whatever profound, mysterious moment of tranquility I had briefly managed to secure... completely vanished into the wind.
***
"Kyro is going to be an older sibling. Isn't this exciting?" Reyna said cheerfully, her hands clasped together as she gave a tiny bounce, her eyes shining with joy.
We were all sitting on the wooden bench just outside the house. The afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the porch, and a gentle breeze carried the scent of wheat from the fields. Lyra sat beside me, completely stunned, while I couldn't help but smile. I felt genuinely happy for Mom.
Dad, though, he lit up like the sky on festival night.
"Really?!" Thorskil exclaimed, springing to his feet. Without hesitation, he swept Mom into his arms and lifted her high into the air.
"Y-you're pregnant!" he laughed, spinning in place, his strong arms holding her like she weighed nothing.
Reyna burst into laughter, holding on to his shoulders as they spun together in a clumsy little circle. Their joy was infectious. It filled the space between us, overflowing like water from a bucket.
"Congratulations, Mom," I said, my smile widening. I meant it. Something about this news, it felt warm.
Then, Lyra made a noise that was somewhere between a groan and a whimper.
"Seriously? Another Kyro? One is already barely tolerable!" she cried, slouching dramatically with her arms crossed. "I'm going to need a raise in sweets if I'm gonna survive this."
Dad barked a laugh. "Come on, Lyra. Lighten up, you'll be a big sister."
"I already am a big sister," she said with a pout. "Now I gotta share that title again? Ugh…"
Mom chuckled and reached out to ruffle Lyra's hair. "You'll do great, sweetheart. Besides, the baby will need both of you."
"Then I want to name it!" Lyra declared suddenly, sitting up. "If it's a girl, I get to pick. If it's a boy, Kyro can have it."
Dad laughed again. "Is that fair, Kyro?"
I gave a shrug and a grin. "I'm fine either way. I just hope it doesn't cry too much."
"Oh, it will," Mom said playfully, lowering herself back onto the bench with Dad's help. "And it'll scream and drool and crawl all over your books."
I shook my head, smiling, "Nice try, but that won't scare me that easily."
"But it will," Reyna teased, insisting.
"Yes, especially your books," Dad agreed with a wink.
Lyra smirked. "Well, if it eats your books, it means it'll be smart like you, right?"
"Eh, that's more like you, the hungry one." I shrugged.
The entire porch erupted into a chorus of shared laughter, and for that one beautiful, unyielding afternoon, the dark realities of the world faded into irrelevance.
[End]