So, my plight goes like this: I died on earth and I got reincarnated in another world, and in this world... magic exists.
"..."
Reincarnation is one thing, but magic? Ha!
This is what makes my current condition unique/unbelievable.
It sounds like something you'll read in a web novel, a fictitious product of an author's imagination, but it's true and it has become my reality.
It makes me feel like the entire life that I lived, the emotions I felt, all the sufferings that I went through, the memories I made. I feel like.. like they were all just the prologue to my story, it's a saddening feeling.
It's been four years since I was born into this new world.
Now I no longer feel the force that was holding me back from talking when I was a baby, I can talk now, according to Jennette, I even have a better accent and speech fluidity than most adult commoners.
Speaking of Jennette, she no longer stays in my room all day, writing and researching.
She was quite stunned the day I first spoke, of course, I was quite startled myself, experiencing the feeling of talking for the first time in four years, who wouldn't be? But that wasn't even the most awe-striking fact.
What struck me the most was the fact that my voice when I spoke.. did not sound like the voice in my head. I had a tiny, childlike voice, and I had no idea what I expected. And what shocked Jennette were the first words that I uttered;
"Shit, my socks are sweaty."
Haha, the way she flinched and the consternated expression on her face was quite funny, indeed that was not what one would have expected to hear from the mouth of a two-year-old child.
But she didn't even think much of it, she just concluded that the reason I could talk that well at that age must be because of my family's bloodline– the bloodline of the Flameworth.
Flameworth. The family I was born into, it's the Duchal family of the Jalozi Empire.
They are widely renown across the continent as the rulers of fire, the Flameworths dominate the Western lands of the Empire as the second most powerful family in the Empire, having produced some of the most powerful flame mages for generations, since the dawn of the Empire.
Alexander Von Flameworth, the Duke of the Flameworths, is the current greatest flame mage in the Empire, an Eight Circle Flame mage, and he's my Father.
I have never seen his face or the face of my other family members since I was born.
Jennette told me that they regard me as an outcast because I was born an illegitimate child.
But today is the day I see his face, and the faces of my other family members, it's because of a certain tradition in the Flameworth family, The pool ritual.
A soft sigh slides out of my lips.
I stand in front of the mirror hung on the wall in my room, looking at my reflection.
I can see my face– pale, high cheekbones, handsome, but not the type of handsome that people gush over, and my facial features aren't yet refined. I still carry the graceful looks of an innocent child.
My fingers are on my head– running through my slightly long, jet-black hair that cascades over my forehead. It's a trait that stands out the most in my features. Nobody born from the blood of the Flameworths has ever had a hair color different from red– I'm the sole exception.
It's obvious that it's going to be a problem, the only trait one could use to identify that I'm a Flameworth is my blood-red colored eyes.
These noble people care so much about minor and trifling things like this. They'll probably bully me, but hey, it's okay because I've already made up my mind.
A groggy yawn escapes my lips as I scratch my belly.
Over the past few years, even though I have no idea how to use magic– I've been playing with Jennette and her magic at times when she was free from her maid duties and I've also picked up a few things about magic from seeing her.
But the little knowledge of magic I have is insufficient. I need to learn more.
But i've started to gain hope, a little strand of hope that I'm willing to hold on to.
If magic and other supernatural things exist in this world, then... If I master them and become good at them– no, if I become extremely proficient in them, won't I eventually find a way to go back to my world? I mean, magic is the power to bend rules and offset the very nature of things itself, isn't it?
Making objects, people and things float is already a form of breaking the laws of physics– The Law of Gravity.
If there are various ways to use magic to keep breaking these said laws of physics, won't I at least find a way to break the metaphysical laws that guide the universe?
Like dimensional travel? I'm sure of it, even if I don't do it with my strength or power, I know there must be a way to go back... back to my world, back to... Marcelle.
So I'll keep living and mastering this magic, even if I don't find a way, I'll die trying, I had already resolved myself to die hadn't I? It'll be a waste if I just end my life instead of using it to find a way back. If I'm to die, then I'll die because I want to go back to my world.
What's there to hesitate about? No matter what I have to do, I will find a way back to my world, back to earth! You might call it cope, but I call it hope...This is my resolve!
So I don't see those people as family, none of them, my family isn't in this wor–
"Why are you clenching your fists and looking at the mirror intensely like you wanna fight someone? You've been doing it for some time now... Didn't even notice me standing here."
I turn to face Jennette who's standing next to the wooden door.
Jennette's lip curls upward as a bitter smile tears her beautiful face. In her moist and shimmering brown pupils, I can see the emotions in them– sadness and... Pity.
"Oh- I was just thinking about something."
I fake an awkward smile that I regret doing.
The room is silent for a brief moment, and the sound of the roaring wind seeping from the window is the only thing keeping the silence from thickening.
"That's okay... I can see you're all dressed up."
She breaks the silence.
Her tone doesn't align with the brightness and cheerfulness that I know her for. She sounds... Sad.
"Yes, how do I look?"
Her lips part slightly and close back.
She lowers her head, refusing to meet her eyes with mine.
I see... she has grown attached to me.
"Jennette..."
She raises her lowered head to look at me with an inquisitive expression on her face, though the difference when her head is lowered and when she looks at my face isn't much because of how short I am.
"I'll be fine."
I give her the brightest smile I can.
Glistening tears roll down her cheek, she tries to wipe it off but it keeps rolling down.
She manages to force a smile amid the flowing tears.
"You don't even know what it is... the ritual. Most kids– most kid don't even–"
"I won't die, trust me."
My voice surged with determination, my fingers curling into a fist– sealing my resolve and my eyes shine brightly with intense determination.
My eyes twitch, and my jaw tightens as I see her tears.
I can't bear to see her worry for me anymore, it seems like even I have gotten a bit attached to her. I mean, why wouldn't I? She's the only one I interacted with in this lonely room for four years.
Knock! Knock!
I flinch slightly.
Jennette swiftly turns her head to the direction of the door.
"Who's there?"
Her voice is shaky and barely audible.
"I have come to fetch the young master."
A firm and sharp voice rings from outside of the door.
They have come for me.
"It's time for me to go, Jennette."
I can see Jennette visibly quiver with worry, and she droops her head.
I walk towards the door. Halt at the door and turn back to give her one final glance before I open the door.
"I won't die."
I say boldly, giving her whatever vague reassurance I can muster.
I face the door with my hand on the door handle, ready to step into this new world.
Now let's see this so-called father, let's see the so-called family, and the world? Let's see it!