The Forest Was Quiet
The forest was quiet, only the sound of the wind moving the leaves. Inside the hollow tree, the baby finally woke up after sleeping for a while. His little stomach roared loudly. He tried to move, but his body only responded with clumsy limbs.
His throat tightened.
A tear rolled down his cheek, and he couldn't stop it.
And then he cried.
First slowly… then louder. It was a desperate, hungry cry.
.....
Another Part of the Forest
A man with a gray beard, hair tied back in a ponytail, and a long sword hanging on his back walked among the trees. He wore a traveler's cloak covered in dirt. He looked about fifty years old.
—Tsk... not a single decent monster today —he grumbled while checking some footprints on the ground—. Where the hell have they gone? I think I'm getting rusty.
He kicked a stone to vent a little.
Suddenly, he heard the crying.
The man stopped dead in his tracks. He looked from side to side, squinting.
—What the heck was that? An animal? No... it sounds like... —he clicked his tongue—. No way. A baby?
The crying was heard again.
The old man frowned, drawing his sword.
—If it's a bandit trap, I'm going to split them in two...
But as he approached, he didn't find anyone nearby or traces of a camp, only an old hollow tree. He bent down and looked inside.
—Oh, by all the gods... Where did you come from? —he murmured, surprised. (The child has greenish-blue eyes and blond hair)
The baby looked at him with bright eyes and cried again.
—Alright, alright, alright! Don't scream like that, damn it —said the old man, covering his ears—. Why do these things happen to me?
He looked around again. There were no traces of other people.
—Tsk... the devil take it... —he scoffed—. If I leave you here, you'll die. And I'll be left with a guilty conscience.
The baby stretched a tiny hand towards him.
The old man was silent for a second.
—Don't look at me with that face... —he grumbled, picking him up carefully—. Fine, fine, come here.
The baby babbled something, as if responding.
—You even talk? —said the man, rolling his eyes—. Enough. Let's go, I have a cabin where I'm staying this season.
.....
Baby's Point of View (MC)
He carried me as if I were a sack of potatoes. This old man has zero delicacy!
The movement made me a little dizzy, but I stopped crying. Now I was just hungry.
—Stop looking at me like that —the old man grumbled as he walked—. I don't know anything about babies. I'm warning you right now.
I tried to babble, but only a strange sound came out.
—Yeah, yeah, whatever you said —he answered—. I guess you haven't eaten anything, I'll find something for you to eat.
....
Third Person
The cabin was rustic but cozy. It had a fireplace, a table full of old weapons, monster hides, and a couple of backpacks.
The man put the baby down on a clean blanket.
—Mmm... what are you guys supposed to eat? —he scratched his head—. I'll have to prepare a mix like the ones my sister used for her critics. Damn it... I thought I had left this behind.
While boiling water and crushing dried fruit, he scoffed non-stop.
—First I don't find anything today, now abandoned babies. This day can't get any worse.
But when he glanced at the child, his expression softened a little.
—I guess I can take care of you for a few days. The baby watched him with wide eyes.
—But don't you dare get attached to me —he said, pointing at him with a spoon—. I'm a retired adventurer. Not your babysitter.
Despite his words, the old man picked up the baby gently and fed him slowly.
—Every time he saw him eat, and saw his eyes looking at him. He remembered something that took him far back into the past.
He had a family he loved very much, but unfortunately, upon returning from a trip, his house was on fire, along with his wife and son. He wanted to help them but it was too late, they had suffocated from the smoke. He never knew how that misfortune happened.
He looked at him and remembered his son even more... a longing grew in his heart... I think I'm going to do something very stupid —he finally murmured, sighing, "Fine, you'll stay with me."
After eating, the old man crossed his arms, observing the baby with a raised eyebrow.
—Well, boy... I can't call you "baby" forever, can I? —he muttered as he scratched his beard—. Let's see... what should I call you?
I looked at him, not understanding anything more than strange sounds. The old man snapped his fingers.
—I know. I'll call you Arthur. Just like my sister's son. You better like it, because the other names I thought of were a real disgrace.
Arthur.
That, I did understand among all his talking.
—"Is that my name now? Or is that what he's called...?"
Suddenly, that mechanical voice echoed in my head:
"Response: the individual is giving you a name."
I gave an involuntary jump. The old man noticed, pointing.
—Hey! Hey, hey, don't tell me you threw up what you ate —he said, approaching quickly.
He looked at the blanket—. Ah... still clean. Thank goodness. He said to himself, walking away and cleaning up what he had soiled.
That voice... I heard it before I died.
—Who are you? —I thought, calling out to the voice.
"Response: this is your unique skill, Great Sage. I will assist in the analysis and development of abilities."
—So you can help me understand the language? —I asked in my mind.
"Processing... Developing understanding of the spoken language... click... clack... Ding. Skill acquired: Comprehension of Human Language."
What? Incredible! I felt as if a lot of information was flowing inside my head.
The old man finished what he was doing—he picked me up and laid me down on the bed.
—For now, you'll stay here. Don't move too much. I'm going to make you a bed; I don't want to have to sleep worrying about throwing you onto the floor.
I followed him with my eyes as he grabbed tools and started measuring wood.
And he was right... now I understood his words perfectly.
—Thank you, Great Sage —I whispered.
There was no answer. Perhaps the skill only spoke when necessary.
...
Years Later
Days turned into weeks, weeks into months.
The routine with the old man was the normal thing in caring for a baby, well, almost normal because before I started crawling, I used to cry. Rubén, if that's the old man's name. He would go out to hunt monsters, collect herbs, or complete quests. He would take me with him, hanging on his back or inside a modified sack.
He fed me, he took care of me, and although he grumbled all day, I never lacked anything.
Some nights he would tell me stories of battles he had and of his travels, although sometimes he stopped halfway because he fell asleep.
When I turned three years old, I could already walk and speak quite well.
.....
Sometimes I would see him train alone.
Movements so fast that my eyes couldn't follow them.
His sword cut the air with great force.
My eyes shone with excitement every time I saw those movements.
Then I asked him... Grandpa, will you teach me to use the sword like you?
—Mmm... What did I tell you about calling me grandpa? He said, sighing, since... You can be sure that I will teach you —he smiled sadistically.
Seeing that smile, I felt a chill run through my body... Hahahaha —I laughed nervously.
---
The Training
When I turned four, the old man stood in front of me with his arms crossed.
—Alright, Arthur. You talk now, you run now, you don't cry about everything now. It's time to train you.
—With a sword? —I asked excitedly.
The old man let out a harsh laugh.
—Sword? Not a chance!
First, strength. If you're weak, you won't even cut a bush.
That day my personal hell began.
Push-ups, squats, carrying stones, running between trees, repeating basic movements hundreds of times.
The old man was demanding... too demanding.
When he was in a good mood, he let me rest more.
When he was annoyed...
Well, let's just say I ended up lying on the floor unable to move my arms.
—Get up, devil! —he shouted—. Do you want to be a swordsman or a couch potato?
—Uuugh... I'm coming! —I complained while shaking.
Despite everything, he never let me get really hurt.
Also, after those trainings, I recorded something.
—Oh, by the way, I always wanted to test a theory —he said to himself—. Arthur —he said, looking intently at the child—, I'll teach you some magic.
Ma...gic, you say —Arthur stood up surprised—, does magic exist? he asked excitedly.
—Of course it does, haven't you seen me— he remembered something— Ah, that's right, I haven't used magic in front of you, hahahaha.
Arthur just rolled his eyes— Seriously— So magic exists in this world, and they also use swords, mmmm— he thought in his mind— I have no idea, I've seen many anime of that type, he said, giving up.
—Watch and listen carefully —he began to recite the spell—: "May the great protection of water be in the place you seek. We invoke a refreshing current here and now." **Water Ball!** —pointing towards a tree, leaving a hole— Now you try it.
—Okay —Arthur prepared himself, raising his arm—, Great Sage, help me —he spoke in his mind.
"..Analyzing words and spell... ding... Beginner Spell: Water Ball learned...."
—"May the great protection of water be in the place you seek. We invoke a refreshing current here and now." **Water Ball!** —he recited the spell— A water ball the size of his fist shot out and hit the tree....
—Oh, well done, kid, on the first try, now try it more times —Rubén instructed.
So he tried a second, third, and fourth time— "May the great protec..." before he could finish the spell again, he fell to the ground unconscious.
—Mmm, it seems that's his limit —he stood up and lifted Arthur— I'll test your crazy theory, my friend —he recalled a conversation he had with a friend in a tavern.
—"Hey, you know, I have a theory. I think if you teach a child magic from an early age, their reserves can be even greater than what they could be" —he said, taking a drink.
—But what are you saying, how do you teach a child magic if they won't understand you, or how to use it? —Rubén retorted.
—You lose, you lose, but if you have a chance to prove it —he looked up with a smile at Rubén— you'll see if I'm wrong or not.
Who would have thought, he found a child capable of understanding him, although it seems very impressive, this child is much smarter than others I have known... perhaps... this child... is... a miko —he whispered, entering the cabin.
....
End of Chapter