Yes, I was reincarnated.
The universe apparently heard my deathbed wish and decided, "Sure, let's spin the wheel and drop this guy somewhere new."
This time, the world wasn't ordinary at all. It looked like someone raided the fantasy section of a bookstore and said, "Yes, this will do." Magic, knights, swords, dragons, beasts that looked like someone lost control at a monster design contest..., you name it.
The kingdom I ended up in was called Atlas. Heavy name, right? A bit ironic, since from the looks of it, the whole place could barely carry its own weight.
At first, it seemed like my wish might've been granted. I wasn't an orphan this time… well, not immediately, anyway. My father was a knight for some minor baron. Not rich, not powerful, but honest and hardworking, with the kind of laugh that made taverns turn and smile. At least, that's what others told me. My own memories of him were scraps: a pair of warm hands on my shoulders, the faint scent of polished steel, a booming laugh that shook the air.
Then one day, he went off on a mission and never came back.
I was three.
Mom tried to hold on, but grief is its own sickness. Within months, she grew weaker, thinner, quieter… until one morning, she simply didn't wake up.
And just like that, I was alone again.
Some distant relative—bless his rotten heart—decided I was a "burden" and tossed me out. So there I was, a child with no home, standing in the rain while my so-called family shut the door in my face.
"Nice. Thanks, guys. You're the best."
So here I am now. Eight years old. Homeless. Living off scraps and luck. Begging for food in a world where people can literally summon fireballs with their hands. Isn't that wild? I could've been a wizard's apprentice, a young knight in training, or at least some plucky farm boy destined for greatness. Instead, the universe handed me the role of "Hungry Street Kid #3."
Not exactly the magical life I imagined.
Today found me in a small town called Ripple, which sounded much prettier than it was. Muddy streets, cranky townsfolk, and a marketplace that smelled like old fish on a hot day. I wandered through the square, stomach growling, when I caught the eyes of other street kids.
You'd think we'd band together, right? Share bread crusts, form a merry gang, maybe even start a kid guild or something. Nope. In reality, they glared at me like I'd just stolen their last chicken bone. To them, I wasn't a companion..., I was competition.
"Great," I muttered. "Can't wait for the friendship arcs."
And because the universe really likes kicking me when I'm down, it started raining. Again. Cold, miserable droplets soaked through my threadbare clothes in seconds.
"Oh, sure. Perfect timing, Universe. I love being a soggy baguette."
My teeth chattered as I searched for shelter, some alleyway where I could curl up and pretend I didn't exist. That's when it happened.
BOOM!
A loud thud shook the street. People gasped and scattered, but my curiosity dragged me toward the noise. There, sprawled in the mud, was an old man.
He looked like the ghost of a knight. Once-expensive uniform now shabby, beard scraggly, eyes half-shut, and the stench of cheap alcohol wafting off him like a warning label. Rain plastered his thin hair to his head as he lay unmoving on the ground.
"Uh… Grandpa?" The word slipped out before I could stop myself.
I crouched beside him, small hands reaching toward his arm. Before I could touch him, his eyes snapped open.
"Who are you?" he snarled, voice gravelly enough to sand wood. "Get away from me!"
I froze. For a moment, I thought he might actually hit me. But then instinct kicked in. He was soaked, shivering, and way too frail to be lying out here. Angry or not, he needed help.
So I ignored the bark in his voice, slid my hands under his arm, and tried to lift.
"Easy there, Grandpa. I'm not here to rob you. I mean, look at me. I don't even own socks."
He blinked at me, confused. The anger in his eyes faltered, replaced by something tired, something broken. Slowly, his resistance melted. He stumbled to his feet with my help, swaying like a tree in the wind.
That's when I felt it… that strange pull inside me. Back in my old life, I always wished I could belong somewhere. Maybe the universe heard that too. Because now, whenever I reached out to someone, they seemed to soften. It wasn't magic, not exactly, but more like… an aura. Something that whispered: It's okay. You're safe here.
And just like that, the old man's anger vanished.
The rain even slowed down, turning into a drizzle as if the sky itself decided to calm down.
"I'm Alden, Grandpa," I said, louder this time. "Don't worry. I'll help you home. Where do you live?"
He stared at me a long moment, as if trying to decide if I was real or just a hallucination born of cheap ale. Then, his shoulders slumped.
"Sorry, boy," he muttered, voice thick with shame. "You helped me, and I barked at you." He pointed a trembling finger toward the edge of town. "I live down that road… edge of the town, near the forest."
I grinned, despite the cold. "Perfect. A mysterious cabin in the woods. Nothing creepy about that at all."
He gave a weak chuckle. "You've got a sharp tongue for a kid."
"Better sharp than empty. Now come on, before the rain decides it likes us again."
We trudged through the streets, his arm heavy on my shoulders. Each step squelched in the mud. He leaned on me, muttering curses at the rain and at his own knees, but he didn't pull away.
People stared as we passed. Some snickered at the sight of the old drunk knight and the scrawny boy hauling him along. Others turned away, pretending not to see.
"Don't mind them," I said. "They're just jealous they don't have such a dashing escort."
He huffed, which I generously counted as a laugh.
The cobblestones faded into dirt paths. Trees rose around us, dripping with rain. The forest whispered with every gust of wind, leaves sighing overhead.
"So, Grandpa," I said, "what's your name? Or should I just keep calling you Grandpa? Because I warn you, I'm really committed to the bit."
He snorted. "Name's Max. Max Rowan."
"Max, huh? Strong name. Definitely better than 'Grandpa.' But honestly, you're already stuck with that nickname in my head."
"Cheeky brat." His lips twitched like he was fighting a smile.
The walk wasn't exactly graceful. At one point, Grandpa's boot slipped in the mud, dragging me down with him. We both landed in a heap, splashing like fish out of water.
"Ugh! Cold!" I sputtered, spitting mud.
Grandpa groaned. "Should've left me there."
"Not a chance," I shot back, wiping my face with my sleeve. "If you think I'm dragging your sorry butt through the mud twice, you're out of your mind."
That earned me a raspy chuckle.
Eventually, through the drizzle and muck, a cabin came into view. Its roof sagged, chimney leaning at an angle like it had given up on life. The whole place looked like it was being held together by stubbornness and habit.
"Home sweet home," Grandpa muttered.
"Wow." I raised my brows. "Rustic charm. Really sells the whole 'mysterious hermit in the woods' vibe. You get bonus points if it's haunted."
He chuckled, then coughed, wincing. I tightened my grip and helped him up the creaky steps.
The door groaned open, revealing a single room that smelled faintly of smoke, damp wood, and ale. A fireplace sat dark and cold, ashes scattered on the stone.
I guided him to a chair, stepping back with a satisfied nod. "There you go, Grandpa. Safe and sound."
He looked at me strangely, like he wasn't used to someone sticking around. His eyes softened, and for the first time, I saw warmth behind the gruffness.
"Why help me, boy? You don't even know me."
I shrugged. "Why not? Someone's gotta look out for you. Besides…" I grinned. "You kind of look like you'd be fun to annoy."
That startled a genuine laugh out of him, rough but real.
My stomach growled loudly at that exact moment, betraying me.
Grandpa raised a brow. "Hungry, huh?"
I smirked. "What gave it away? The fact that I look like a walking stick, or the way my stomach just tried to summon a demon?"
He chuckled again, shaking his head.
And just like that, something shifted.
Maybe the universe wasn't done messing with me yet. Maybe… this was the start of something.