The Reincarnation of Alysara

Chapter 1: Legacy

Stars twinkle around me like a cloud of tiny shining jewels. They appear and disappear, growing dim and eventually winking out of existence only for new stars to appear elsewhere. They are a dark red in color but, looking around, I see a small collection of them with a faint grey tinge. This greyness seems to be contagious, slowly spreading to nearby stars.

I continue watching the stars in fascination; they become redder in color with each generation. The grey moves from star to star, somehow coexisting with them; at least, it doesn't seem like a sickness. In fact, it seems to extend the longevity of the stars. Questions whirl around my mind. What is this place? What are these 'stars'? And so many more. I can't move, I can't wave my arms, I can only watch, and that's what I do.

I keep watching the stars around me. I watch, and watch, for eternity, and many eternities after that. Time seems to have no meaning here, yet causality is moving forward as the stars, now a bright red, are turning orange. I feel deep drowsiness as if my very existence is tired and slow like I have stayed up all night, yet I cannot stop watching. The longer I spend in this... void, the more I feel my very existence start to slumber: my memories fade, not forgotten, but it's as if they are just falling asleep.

The stars are changing from orange-yellow, to yellow, then onto yellow-green, and all the while the grey spreads faster and faster until all stars have been claimed. Each star that is born is almost instantly claimed, the grey somehow delaying the death of the stars for so long now that they seem less like a cloud and more like a blanket wrapped around me.

My consciousness starts drifting in and out of dormancy, wrapped by this blanket of stars; however, with the last of my consciousness, I spot a hole in the ever-thickening blanket of stars. The void widens as the stars start to quickly fade one by one... no, they aren’t fading, they are being killed; something is destroying the stars and the grey inhabiting them. The void widens faster and faster, destroying all that the grey had worked for. I try to stay conscious but it’s useless; I fall into dormancy, waking up to find the void has grown significantly.

Each time I fade into dormancy and wake back up, I find ever fewer stars until an all-consuming void is all that greets me. No matter how hard I look, all I see is just darkness, an endless sea of nothing, an empty eternity. With a feeling of hollow loneliness, I finally resign myself to slumber.

A tinkling bell sounds in my mind, but I do not awaken. Again and again, it tinkles like wind chimes, a soothing melody through the darkness. Suddenly I feel a vast presence, a formless, invisible thing that somehow brings with it a sense of both serenity and curiosity.. The presence evokes the feeling of gazing upon the vast beauty of the stars in the sky, the serenity of a wintery landscape, the beauty of a waterfall; it is the holistic, complete embodiment of the concept of beauty. But there is another side to it as well: the energizing feeling of inspiration, the fulfilling feeling of creating something, emotions of creation made manifest.

I feel a prodding sensation, an uncomfortable jabbing. I am rudely jostled and moved, yet waking up feels like trying to move through tar.

Soon the jabbing, prodding, and jostling stops, but the chimes remain ever ringing in my mind. For a long time, I sleep, listening to the chimes. Then out of nowhere, I am shocked! A zapping electrical feeling shoots throughout my very essence. Awareness suddenly fills me, and once again, stars flicker all around me, along with colorful wispy clouds, like nebulae slowly swirling. The stars shine with multiple colors, like each has a rainbow captured within.

Where am I? It feels like I've seen something like this before, me being in a void with stars all around me, but I can't bring up my memories.

"Welcome, lost legacy. I am Myrou, Goddess of creativity and beauty," a feminine voice, that seems to echo around the void, says. If a voice could give hugs, then hers would be the closest thing. Her voice wraps around me with a warm and oddly beautiful feeling, like a mother's affectionate embrace. "I am sure you are confused and have a lot of questions, but there will be a time for that."

I nod; there is no need to anger the deity and risk her wrath.

A giggle echoes around me, like a wave gently washing ashore under a moonlit night with the air still and serene as if time has stopped. "No need to be afraid; it's not often a soul as old as yours drifts into my realm."

"A soul as old as mine?" I wonder aloud. I try to think back, but it feels like trying to prod awake a stubborn sleepyhead. It almost feels as if whatever I am looking for said, "gimme five more minutes..."

"Don't push it," The Goddess says, her voice sounding like a well-crafted and polished gem. "Your memories, and who you used to be, have been dormant for a really long time; give it a while, and it will slowly reawaken. You see, your soul is from an era long before gods and magic, from a realm that has long since ended; you are what we call a Legacy Soul." Noticing my confusion, she clarifies. "Hmm, how to make more sense... you are kinda like a fossil, a soul fossil, from a time so far in the past that millions of realms have come and gone, potentially hundreds of millions. Legacies are extremely rare – to have survived oblivion over such a long time is not an easy thing – but with the number of souls present through all the realms some would inevitably survive. However, we've never found one as old as you... until now, obviously."

I still don't know what she is talking about.

"Ah well, I tried. You'll know what I'm talking about eventually once your memories come back." With a voice that sounds like a serene lake reflecting a full moon on its surface, the Goddess gives up trying to make me understand.

"How do you know I am a legacy? Can't I just be a normal soul?" I ask. No sound comes out, but the Goddess knows what I said nonetheless.

"Your soul is completely untouched by magic, but it's even more than that, it's... how do I explain this... exotic? The realm your soul manifested in leaves an... impression on you, a marker. But your soul is almost completely unmarked. Our studies of realms and current theories suggest your soul is not only from a very young realm but from one of the earliest realms. The evolution of realms has gone very far in that time."

"Evolution of realms? What is it? How does that work?" I'm sure it's something I know, but I just can't remember.

"Hmm. It's best to answer these questions once your memories have returned." The Goddess mutters, almost to herself. "In any case! You're unique, and we want to know more about where you came from."

"I am surprised you didn't treat me as some research subject if I really am that special," I say, my respect for the Goddess growing.

"Oh, we did; it was such an opportunity to learn more about souls. But now we want to know more about what's in your soul, your memories and experiences, and we can't risk ripping them out of you. Souls are surprisingly fragile, yours more so in this regard. So we just need to wait until they fully reawaken."

If I could eye the deity suspiciously, I would, but as it stands, the Goddess hasn't manifested herself, nor do I seem to have a body.

"We aren't going to harm you; we just want to know what one of the first-ever realms was like; it is very important for our studies." The voice sounds almost excited, still seeming to wrap around me with its huggy nature.

"How about this: I'll give you a boon, and you will let us examine your memories and experiences. From what we know about other legacies, it'll take about twenty years for all your memories to fully resurface." The Goddess compromises.

I consider her offer for a long time, trying to think how it benefits me, but being the Goddess of beauty and creativity, surely she has something good, right? "Very well," I say with a sigh of resignation. I don't like the idea of my memories being examined, but as long as nothing bad happens to me and I get a boon out of it, I might as well.

"Excellent!" streams of light suddenly swirl around me before condensing in front of me, taking the shape of a gorgeous woman, nay, an impossibly beautiful woman. As if she is the very manifestation of beauty and creativity; reality around her shimmers and twinkles beautifully with the vastness of the cloudless and starry night sky. She has long, flowing, golden, silky hair, flawless pale skin, and eyes like deep emeralds. Her robes are like a flowing river of a deep and rich blue with a marbling of lighter blue. Surprisingly, she is massive, like a giant; either that or I am just tiny, small enough to fit in the palms of her hands. Nope, I actually am in the palms of her cupped hands; when did that happen?

"I shall give you the gift of beauty. May you use it well!" The Goddess says, and suddenly I feel a connection, not quite to her, but to the very concept of beauty itself.

"Gift of beauty? What does that exactly do? Shouldn't I get something that'll help me survive? What happens if I die again?" I ask question after question, now knowing this Goddess won't do anything to me.

"One at a time, please," Myrou says with a sigh. "You'll see what it does; it's better if you figure it out for yourself, but do know that it will help you survive, not that I plan to toss you in a place that has a high risk of killing you in the first place. If you die, you'll just be reincarnated naturally. If by some accident or unforeseen event you die before you regain your memories... well, we can't let those be washed away – not that it is likely to do so anyway with the tiers your soul has – so we'll intervene and reincarnate you with your memories attached again just to be sure they remain whole."

"In other words, once you have what you want from me, I'm on my own?" I clarify.

"Yup!" Myrou smiles beautifully, like gazing upon a city from the top of a mountain at night.

"I don't suppose you'll tell me anything about where I'm going? It'll help getting a heads-up," I say, trying to get as much as I can.

"First, you don't have a head as you currently are." The Goddess grins at her own joke. "Second, it's a surprise! Anything else you want to ask before you move on?"

"Why don't you just keep me here? If it'll take twenty years, this is the safest and most controlled situation for you," I can't help but ask.

"That's a fair question. The reason is because your soul will just go back to sleep. You need a vessel to properly reawaken."

"Whelp, I guess I'm out of questions now."

"Good, now where should I send you? Hmmm, nope, that place is too rough," Myrou says, considering a distant star before looking at another. "Normally a good place, but right now they are dealing with extensive civil wars, not good timing. Oh, that place is being overrun with ice elementals and winter spirits, a hard pass there. Aha! Found the perfect place, no wars, no predators, and the natives won't be starving." The Goddess looks from star to star before settling on a winking star. "Hmm, that's... interesting; I didn't expect a race like that to evolve in such a way. Ah well, it's the best candidate, and, as a bonus, they worship me! Off you go!"

Myrou draws me back, and, taking a pose with a raised leg, she literally throws me toward the star. Looking back, I see another being manifest next to Myrou. A being like an old library, a freshly made scroll, a professor, the very concept of knowledge and wisdom. It takes the form of an old man with a long white beard reaching the length of his knees. He wears a large pointed hat and black robes with red trim.

"That was sneaky of you, Venaro," Myrou said, in a vaguely accusatory tone.

"Might as well give it the best chance it can get.'' Venaro strokes his beard. The two giants are getting smaller as I fly away.

"You're up to something, and I don't like it." Her voice fades quickly the further I fly away.

"You'll see, hohoho," Venaro laughs, the sound carrying the echoes of great tomes slamming closed.

The star slowly grows bigger and bigger as I approach until white light is all that I see; then, suddenly, I am embraced in a warm and inviting darkness, and soon I fall asleep.

Chapter 2: A baby again

I wake up with darkness wrapped me like a warm, inviting blanket. It’s a little too tight, so I try to push back, but my strength quickly fails, and I fall asleep again, exhausted. This happens a few more times before I’m jolted awake by a tight, constricting sensation around me, forcing me through a small tunnel. Again and again, the darkness pushes down on me until I have gone entirely through the tunnel. With the sudden release of pressure, I gasp and feel something wrap around me, and my face is wiped like someone is trying to clean me.

I open my eyes to see the face of a giant. She’s beautiful, with long royal blue hair and large fox-like ears on her head. The ears resemble those of a serval or fennec fox, in size proportional to their head. I’m not entirely sure what servals or fennec foxes are, but thinking about them brings up images of furry creatures. I should know what they are, but for some reason, all I know are the images of them.

Before I can examine the giant woman further, I’m passed to another woman. Her features seem to match that of the first woman, with the same royal blue hair. I notice how soft-looking and well-cared-for the hair is, now that I’m not being jostled around. She also has those ears, with fluffy tufts at the top; they look so soft that I try to reach out to them, but her large ears are too far away.

This woman smiles, her watery blue eyes looking down at me with what I think is motherly love. The two women look similar – sisters, maybe? Same hair and eye color, similar faces, no doubt they are related.

Squeals of delight echo around me, and more faces appear in my vision. It seems they are gushing over me, talking in high-pitched voices and cooing at me. I refocus on my mother, or at least I assume that’s what she is… but doesn’t this mean I’ve been reborn? Shouldn’t it just be born, not reborn? No, reborn sounds right.

Mother appears a little strained, like she has over-exerted herself, but she hugs me to her… holy cow! Her bosom is prestigious, to put it politely. She opens her dress and pops one of them out, bringing my face close. Instinct takes over, and soon a rich, creamy ambrosia fills my mouth.

After having my fill, sleep quickly takes me, even as I try to resist it.

When I next awake, the first thing I notice is the wooden ceiling. I examine the wood, trying to identify it. It honestly looks more like a cream-colored meaty bamboo than wood, although at the same time, it isn’t quite like bamboo either. I’m not sure how I know what bamboo is… well, I don’t really know it, but it just feels right. Abandoning that mystery for now, I continue looking around. Everything seems to be made of the same bamboo-wood whatchamacallit. Bamwood? Sounds like an infomercial product. Wooboo? No, just… no. Amood? I’m really bad at this.

Anyway, I seem to be in some sort of cage… crib… thing… for my peace of mind, I’m going to hope it’s a crib. At least I have a soft cream-colored blanket. I sigh. Welp, guess I’m going to get intimate with boredom. Hang on, why is my vision filled with floating, colorful orbs? And why am I covered in them? They look pretty, but is there something wrong with my vision?

Uh-oh, there’s definitely something wrong, but it seems related to how much I drank earlier. My bowels are moving, getting ever closer to a really bad time. I wail as loudly as I can with that breath I can muster.

“WAAAAHHH!”

O, mine Mother or Father, perhaps caretaker, I summon thee to aid me in my time of great need. Heed my call, let mine beckoning guide your way to mine domain!

Like welcoming thunder, I hear loud footsteps coming closer. My wail seems to have scared off the glowing orbs as they slowly float away like drifting jellyfish.

The blue-haired woman, probably my mother, comes into the room and picks me up, holding me close to her, shushing me… and bouncing me. Oh god, please don’t bounce me – it’s going to make it worse… Too late. The smell of a freshly made mess is as good a signal as ever to change my blanket... and my mom’s shirt.

After that, Mom carries me around for some time, giving me enough opportunity to use her height to see better. I manage to get a good look at our house... hut. The hut isn’t that big. Instead of rooms, there are curtains to section off the hut. It’s round, with a mostly flat roof, as far as I can tell, anyway.

The curtains are made of the same soft stuff as my blanket, with decorative embroidery. There’s a bed next to my crib that I didn’t see before, which looks like it’s for my parents. It, too, has that cream-colored cloth, but this seems to have also been embroidered with decorative patterns and dyed for different coloring.

Mom is wearing a skimpy dress, again, made from the same cloth material as everything else and embroidered fashionably. The dress comes in several electric blue parts; a revealing bra with frills and ribbons, armlets on both her upper arms and forearms with ribbons attached, and a skirt that doesn’t quite reach her knees. Her flat navel is bare and showing a light tan and healthy skin. Lastly, Mom has an emerald amulet around her neck and several earrings on her large ears.

Mom carries me out of the hut and into the open world. The scene almost takes my breath away! Thousands of floating, glowing orbs of all colors, dancing rainbow auroras all congregating at a point in the sky and falling down like a beautiful waterfall onto a gargantuan Mayan-style stepped pyramid with flames licking the stepped sections next to the stairs. A massive European sapphire-blue dragon is flying in the cloud-spotted sky.

Three massive moons hang in the sky. One, which is largest and seemingly closest, is red with ashen clouds, its dark side glowing with fires and lava. The second is a watery blue moon dotted with white and grey clouds. The last is a green moon halfway hiding behind the red moon, sparsely covered with clouds.

Looking around, I see that we’re next to an island with tall shoots of the ‘bamboo trees’. They don’t have branches, but have long growths sprouting from their tops that droop down, weighted by large watermelon-sized fruits.

The street is covered with planks, expertly milled and tightly jointed to each other, leaving no gap. Decorative etchings are engraved into the street, and many people walk around barefoot. The place is kept clean and in good condition. Our hut is built next to the edge of the village, letting me see the distant mountains encircling us, separated by a sea with steam rising from its surface. I can easily see the seafloor under the shallow steaming waters, where colorful corals and crab-like clams walk around with long legs, fighting other crab-clams with large claws.

We’re currently on a jetty with many huts around, but further into the city, there appear to be actual houses and some two- and even three-story houses. It appears this is a jetty village, a village built on the water using piers.

Mom walks to a destination unknown to me, passing by many people who greet her in a friendly manner. They wear dresses similar to her, but in different colors, and their hair is vibrant and colorful with green, red, orange, violet, pink, blue, and more. Also, does everyone seem to have long, amazing hair, or is it just me?

Some of them walk up to me and spout baby-talk, all women. Some are really tall; actually, roughly half of the women are easily a head taller than Mom; while the other half are around her height… odd.

Where are all the men? There’s not a single one in sight. Just colorful-haired, fluffy-eared, and long—, really long-fluffy-tailed women. Seriously, those tails are big. Almost as long as they are tall, maybe a head shorter. They have to curl up their tails, so as not to drag on the ground.

Do I also have a long tail and ears like those? I reach up to feel my ears, and a heavenly soft sensation greets my hands. Yup, they’re pretty large and heavenly soft. The watching women “daww” as I grab my ears, just like one would “daww” at a cute kitten.

All the women here seem gorgeous; tall and short, large-chested, and…larger-chested. Hmm, all the women seem to have been blessed by the boob goddess or something. Some even beat Mom’s size, and I’d have thought that as an achievement, but here she seems average.

We walk past many baths— why are there so many baths? The baths are open-air, built right next to the streets with baskets for clothes and clay jugs on the side. The baths are built so they are partially under the steaming seawater, with gaps to let water in. It’s pretty impressive that an entire sea is hot enough to be nearly boiling; there must be a ton of geothermal heating right underneath… Oh…shit… Are we in the caldera of a massive volcano?! I don’t seem bothered by the humidity or warmth, but whatever a caldera is, I have a bad feeling about it.

Again, strange concepts flitter into my mind, concepts I can understand yet not know what they are. I don’t know what geothermal heating is, but I know it has something to do with the nearly boiling sea.

Welp, volcano or not, good or bad, I’m here, and I can’t change it yet. I just hope we survive long enough— Magic, of course. The volcano won’t do bad things because magic exists, right? I mean, who would be dumb enough to live inside the caldera of a volcano if they can’t prevent an eruption?

God, this is weird. I don’t know what a volcano is, but somehow I know it? My memories are dormant but not forgotten? There, but not accessible? I’m not gonna bother wasting my brainpower on it, just gonna roll with it.

Mom stops in front of a large hut. There are many of those gem-pearls around, decorating the hut. We enter, greeted with the sight of dozens of women working on shaping gem-pearls. Some grind them down, some cut the gems into multiple workable pieces, and others polish the gems. A tall, impressively fit-looking woman is inspecting their work, along with an even more important-looking woman standing next to the former.

Mom walks up to the tall inspector and says something that I don’t understand. She hands me to her, entrusting me to the fit woman. Getting a closer look, the tall woman has long braided white hair with red gem dust sprinkled over her face and hair, making it look like she has glitter on her. Her beautiful red eyes gaze at me as she holds me close to her generous but smaller-than-average bosom – and by average, I meant average for this place.

She coos over me, pats my head and says something in a babying voice. Really helping me learn the language there; like, seriously, if I didn’t know better I’d have thought baby talk was normal!

We soon leave the place, letting the white-haired woman return to her work, and travel to one of the bathing areas. It’s off the main road, down a side road, and on the right. There are no walls, no changing rooms, just an open area for all to see, and anyone walking by can get an eyeful. Is it like this because there are no men around? In the baths, I see some women combing and oiling their long hair. Oil is also being rubbed on their skin. Is that why these women are so beautiful and have such lustrous hair? Is magic involved?

Mom begins stripping off her dress – yup, right in front of everyone – and is somehow juggling me while not jostling me around too much. She puts her dress in a basket next to the bathing area, then unwraps me from my blanket and puts that in her basket as well. Crime must not really be a thing here, if you can trust your possessions to any passersby.

Mom walks into the water and other women gather around, babying me and questioning Mom. I’m really starting to get tired of this… and this is just day one! A few minutes pass, all but two of the women disperse, and Mom sits further down in the water. She gingerly dips me into the hot waters and sloshes water over me while her hair is being combed by another woman. As the baths lower into the seawater, I expect the water to taste salty, but it’s actually fresh. A sea of fresh water?

The two women talk as we wash. Another woman brings a clay jug and sits beside Mom. Mom thanks her – or I assume that’s what she meant, it’s just one sound – and pours a small amount of oil into her hand. She rubs some on me, the oil smelling fruity and citrusy, like apples and lemons and…something else? Hard to tell. The other woman also oils herself and Mom, combing it into her hair and rubbing it on her legs.

I never liked the oily feeling. Oh! A past experience makes itself known – it’s always been technical stuff before now, and I still don’t know anything, but it’s there somewhere within my headspace – or soulspace? Anyway, with this many bathing areas in the town and access to volcano water, bathing must be a daily thing.

After washing up and oiling down, we soak in the waters, Mom splashing more water over me as the other woman takes an empty jug, fills it with water and pours it over Mom and herself. Oddly, I feel less and less oily – are the oils emulsifying in the water? No, it isn’t bubbling, but my body definitely feels less slippery.

After rinsing off the oils, Mom begins nursing me. These people are very open, so I don’t know why I’m surprised by this. Once we finish taking our sweet time in the baths, we get dressed, me being wrapped up in my blanket. We walk over to the docks, where many canoe-like boats are docked. None of them have sails, but instead have oars attached to the sides.

The boats are made from the creamy-colored bamboo wood and well decorated. Many have nets on the sides, probably to hold fish or those crab-clams or whatever. More boats are out on the waters, and some even have people diving beneath the water with baskets and coming out with stuff. I’m too far away to see them clearly, though I can see pretty far now that I think about it; I have pretty good eyesight, for whatever reason.

The other islands also have jetty villages attached to the sides. I suppose with the limited land, they simply do all the farming on land and build off to the side. Speaking of which, all the islands are covered in unusually straight trees, like really thick bamboo stalks, except the Temple Island, if I remember correctly, but I can’t see that one from here. But why trees? No crops? Surely there are crops, where else do you get your greens?

Hmm?

Mom seems to be saying something to me and pointing at what I’m looking at. I’m not sure what she’s saying, but at least she isn’t baby-talking to me. More people come and go, doing the usual greeting and wanting to see me. I still haven’t seen any men around. Maybe there’s a men’s village? Wait, am I female? Or just too young to be at the men’s island?

After some time, we go back to our hut, and now I’m back to staring at the ceiling. The ceiling is flat, but the roofs are tapered. That means we have an attic, right? Welp – boredom time again. Boredom sucks. What to do? Bug mom for attention? Oh god, now I know why babies cry so much— no, I don’t want to be like that. I’ll make do with my imagination and review what I’ve learned today.

One. We’re probably in a giant volcano.

Two. Dragons are nice? I saw one flying around, and no one panicked, so I’m guessing they’re good guys.

Three. We’re island people. That means a lot of seafood.

Four. These people like to bathe and seem to have skin- and hair-care products.

Five. No men around. Could we be this world’s version of amazons? Kidnap men from other places and all that? Hmm, dunno.

Six. There are auroras. Hmm. Magic leylines? Oh! That could be it! Either that or we’re near one of the poles and live in a volcano because it’s warm. But I don’t think auroras intersect like that, nor do they spill downward like a waterfall. I’m betting on Ley Lines, which means we’re near a place of power.

If there’s a place of power nearby, that means there’s magic, so maybe if I open myself up to the energies, I can learn how to do magic? That’s sometimes how it’s done in stories... How do I know but not know these things? It’s seriously bugging me.

Anyway, I close my eyes, trying to feel…something. Something I’ve never felt before… Nothing. Well, there’s a tingle in my fingers, but that’s probably because my arm fell asleep. Welp, worth a try. But maybe I’m not doing it, right? Let’s see… Magic often involves thought or imagination. Perhaps I need to clear my mind?

I clear my thoughts, banishing all emotions and distractions, washing them away in an imaginary river – there’s nothing except me and the energies of this world. Well, my head’s starting to hurt… is that a good sign? Other than a mild headache, I’m not getting anything. I don’t know how long I’ve been doing this, but it feels like some time has passed. Hmm. If not body and mind, then perhaps soul? I really have no clue how all these things work; I’m just hoping it’ll be painless. Here goes nothing!

For the next I-don’t-know-how-long, I lay there, motionless. I may have fallen asleep once or twice during my meditation. I guess being carried around for a few hours is tiring work. I wake up with my tail in my arms, and I guess I’m using it as a hug pillow. I try moving it away, but something stops me from removing such a soft and whole thing out of my embrace. Why does my tail have to be so heavenly? Also, is it me, or is my tail proportionally longer to me than the womens’ are to them?

I refocus on the most inner part of myself: my core, my existence. This! This might just be it. I can feel something, a pressure— no, a wall. I need to get past this wall. Just as I make a breakthrough, I feel myself being picked up. I try to squirm in protest, but what can a baby do? I open my eyes to see Mom looking down at me with a smile and warm blue eyes, her face framed by her royal blue hair.

She opens her dress to nurse me. Just then, I feel the empty pit in my stomach. I’m not exactly hungry, but I’m peckish. Mom says something to me, but it’s not like I can understand her anyway, so I just drink my dinner in silent frustration. The white-haired lady from the gem cutters is also here, talking with Mom, and after I have my dinner, Mom passes me off to her.

Along with the white-haired woman, we return to the town…village…or whatever. It’s dusk now, and I’m pretty sure it was morning when we were last out – was I really meditating/sleeping that long? After being stopped many times by people asking to see me, Mom enters a house with a long counter. Mom sets a large clay jug on the counter and says something. The clerk lady says something in response and moves behind a door. She comes out with a fairly sizable block of cheese and round coin-shaped rubies. Are gems so common that they’re used as coins?!

Anyway, we leave the cheese store and visit other stores. Mom gets a clam with crab-like pincers and legs, meat for dinner, i suppose – no fish, though – and some dried fruit chips. We return to our hut to drop off the groceries, then leave again. All the while, we’re hounded by people… okay, it isn’t that bad, but all the baby talk may just make me vomit.

We enter a large stony area carved out from an offshore rock, where a large bonfire has been lit. People deftly dance around the fire to the beat of drums and other stringed instruments. Mom sways with the music, humming and occasionally patting my head with a smile.

After the dancing comes what I think is story time: everyone gathers around one person while she speaks, sometimes dramatically or humorously. Then the next person comes up and tells their story. This one speaks in such a way as to tell an epic, but it must have something to do with the gods as I hear Myrou’s name many times. Next, someone comes up and sings. Her voice is well-practiced and beautiful.

After a few singers, a pink-haired young woman comes up with a giant, featureless wooden statue, smiling nervously. She wears the same type of dress as everyone else. The figure is humanoid and female, with a simple representative dress, but what surprises me the most is that the goddess Myrou is projected onto it… at least I think that until the projection winks at me – no one else seems to have noticed that, though. Everyone cheers and congratulates the sculptor, who looks bashful and titters.

Then comes the time when Mom steps in front of everyone to show me off, the newest addition to the village. People compliment Mom or me, I’m not sure, and soon enough, Mom leaves the stage with me.

By the time the traditions are done, the moons are high in the sky, and everyone trails to a large communal bathing area, where everyone bathes in the waters, oils down, and soaks. People talk, complain, and congratulate one another. This bathing area has another statue of the goddess: a naked, featureless statue of a woman holding a clay jug with water pouring out of it. Myrou’s projection on it smiles warmly at me without shifting from her pose. It seems like no one else has noticed the slight twitch of her lips.

After the bonfire party, we return to our hut, but someone else joins us. It’s the tall white-haired woman – why is she here? Welp, I don’t know the circumstances, so I’m just gonna konk out now.

Chapter 3: The System

The next day I wake up as the white-haired woman leaves saying something to Mom. I can't see what's going on as they are behind a curtain, but as soon as she leaves the hut, Mom walks in, her long royal blue hair fluttering behind her. She smiles upon seeing me, her blue eyes softening. Dangit! I was hoping to get some meditation in and hopefully figure something out; I want to sense mana if that's at all possible. Mom nurses me before taking me out again.

Mom walks through the village, and while we do get a lot of people wanting to see me, it isn't as bad as yesterday. We stop at a bath where the white-haired roommate is and join her. Mom snuggles up next to her while still holding me; seeing the height difference, Mom is easily a head shorter. Mom holds me close to both of them, and they seem to be purring—I didn't know we can do that. Hmm, they seem a little too close to be just roommates; are they perhaps lovers?

After bathing, we part ways, and Mom takes me to the island walking through the well-decorated village. I haven't noticed it too much the first time through, since we kept getting interrupted by everyone, but everything seems to be decorated in some way, usually with appealing artistry and designs.

We pass a large building with huge tubs of watermelon-sized fruit. They are sort of colored like mangoes, but they smell citrusy and fruity. A strong smell of the bathing oil — which seems to concentrate the natural scent of the fruit — emanates from that building. There's another smaller fruit-processing building next to it that seems like an afterthought with a lot less fruit in its bins.

Mom talks to me, pointing at the buildings.

Umm, Mom, I can't understand you. Well, I can guess that she is telling me about those buildings, but without knowing what the words mean, I can't get anything useful out of it.

We walk into the island proper and are greeted with rows and rows of fruit-bearing bamboo trees. Huge leaves cover the canopy, and long stems sprout from the top of these weird bamboo trees, weighed down by clusters of melon-sized fruits. Workers are busy plucking the fruits from ladders and putting them in large and tall baskets. We walk through the orchard, Mom humming to me. Looking around, I see more-than-usual green glowing orbs floating around and clustering around bamboo trees.

Mom takes me to the sandy beach where a refreshing breeze blows the air isn't salty since the sea is fresh water. One of the small crab-clams skitters away from Mom as she approaches. She continues to talk to me as she walks leisurely on the island.

After walking around the island for a bit, we return to the village and back to our hut. I'm put back into the crib while Mom moves to another room to do whatever she does.

I take this chance to meditate to try and learn magic or something. I focus on opening my soul but only manage to sense the wall preventing me from doing so. I push against the wall, but it doesn't even budge. Hmm, maybe I'm going about this all wrong. Why is there even a wall here? What do walls do? They keep things out, or inside, So what is this wall keeping out? I'm probably going to regret it, but I kinda want to know. Ah, well, not like a baby like me can do anything about it.

Maybe if I try to actively feel the magical energies instead of feeling them passively, I can sense mana—isn't that how it's done in stories? And if I can sense mana, I may learn how to use magic!

I slowly open my mind again, clearing all distractions. I focus on expanding my awareness feeling for the magical energies, mana, or whatever it is called. My whole body begins to tingle, but instead of stopping, I focus on pushing that feeling outward, millimeter by millimeter. Suddenly, a wealth of information assaults my mind, along with several bell-like sounds. Pressure like the bottom of the ocean presses against my mind. It's too much. I immediately retract my mind as a headache pierces my brain like a hot needle.

I cry out in pain, and in a rush, Mom arrives and picks me up, trying to calm me and looking me over to see if I'm hurt. She says something, but my head hurts too much for me to listen. Mom tries all sorts of things to see what's wrong, and eventually, she settles on holding me tightly and gently patting my head while purring to soothe me.

Eventually, my headache becomes bearable, and I quiet down. Mom sighs in relief and takes us out to bathe. Mom probably complains to the other women, but I don't care... I focus on what has happened but get surprised when words float into my mind's eye.

Ting! You have gained the Sense Mana general skill!

Sense Mana: You have opened your mind to one of the energies that fuels this world. You can now sense mana in its raw form.

Ting! Sense Mana has obtained levels 2-3!

Ting! Sense Mana has met the requirements for a breakthrough and will continue leveling past level 10.

1st Breakthrough: You have sensed an overwhelming pressure of mana, letting you sense mana in such quantities and better see slight difference in mana levels.

Ting! You have gained the Pain Tolerance general skill.

Pain Tolerance: You have been subjected to high pain; this will help you tolerate such pain again.

Why am I not surprised by this? I should be, but it's like I've read something like this before, but now I think I know what happened. I live right on or next to a place of power, so the mana density here must be insanely high. Trying to sense mana here would be like staring at the sun, which is why it hurt. It also seems like the skill stops leveling after some time, and you need to prove yourself or accomplish some sort of achievement to progress further—sensing such dense mana is probably enough to meet that requirement.

If there are skills, then maybe this should work?

I focus on bringing up my stat sheet, and sure enough, information appears in my mind's eye. I don't know why I knew this would work, but It just felt like it should.

Name: Alysara

Sex: Female

Age: 0

Race: Runalymo (Adept)

Race Trait 1: Mana Generation

Race Trait 2: Spirit Sight

Race Trait 3: Nutritional Milk

Race Trait 4: Heightened Senses

Race Trait 5: Mana Sustenance

Race Trait 6: Runalymo's Cleanliness

Race Trait 7: Perfectionists Eye

Race Trait 8: Nexus Adaptation

Race Trait 9: Inspirational Greatness

Race Trait 10: Myrou's Children

Class:

Active Skill 1:

Active Skill 2:

Active Skill 3:

Active Skill 4:

Active Skill 5:

Passive Skill 1:

Passive Skill 2:

Passive Skill 3:

Passive Skill 4:

Passive Skill 5:

Bond - Beauty: Level 1

General Skill 1: Sense Mana 3/20

General Skill 2: Pain Tolerance 1/10

General Skill 3:

General Skill 4:

General Skill 5:

General Skill 6:

General Skill 7:

General Skill 8:

General Skill 9:

General Skill 10:

Mana: 200

Mana Regeneration (/hour): 200 (+200)

Vitality: 100

Strength: 9

Agility: 12

Endurance: 10

Intelligence: 32

Wisdom: 28

Charisma: 20

So I'm female, and my name is Alysara. Good to know. So, what do my Race Skills do?

Mana Generation: Having traded the now unneeded physical boosting trait of their parent species, the Runalymo has instead gained heightened mana generation rate by (100%).

Seems like this race is more magic-focused, but it wasn't always that way.

Spirit Sight: This race is tuned to the spirit layer, able to see spiritual beings.

Is that what those glowy orbs are? Spirits?

Nutritional Milk: Having suffered through near extinction by starvation, this race has turned to whatever it can in dark times and not succumb to the cursed act of cannibalism. This race's milk is nutritional, providing a creature with all their nutritional needs for 1 meal.

Seems like a little bit of Runalymo's history has been recorded by the system. Still, how bad is cannibalism that one would have to turn to the milk of their wives and mothers to survive? Cannibalism may be taboo, but it doesn't turn you into a monster, or does it? Magic seems to be a thing, after all.

Heightened Senses: An old trait that has been honed and kept through the eons, and although this has not served the Runalymo, as it has their parent species, this race still has acute hearing, smell, and sight.

Fairly standard for a race with large ears like mine. Still, it sounds like this skill has degraded some and is not as sharp as it once had been.

Mana Sustenance: Having adapted to a low food environment and constant starvation, this race now passively consumes mana to sustain bodily needs. Mana cost increases the more that bodily needs have to be sustained.

Now that I think about it, I've never been truly hungry since my birth. Sure, I've been a little peckish but not hungry. Again it talks about a past event, which must have been a significant event. It also suggests that I don't need to breathe or drink, but I'm sure if I stop doing any of those things, I'll quickly run out of mana.

Runalymo's Cleanliness: The incessant nature for cleanliness and care of appearance grants this race a (+50%) to beauty essence after bathing and performing acts of maintaining appearance. The more care taken, the higher the bonus, up to 150%

So that's why they bathe so much? Or do they have it because they bathe so much? Is it the chicken or the egg? Also, what is "beauty essence"?

Perfectionist's Eye: Following the tenets of Myrou, this race has taken great care to perfect their arts and crafts. This skill makes it, so flaws are easily spotted and never overlooked.

Hmmm, a craft-centered skill. Now that I remember it, Myrou is the Goddess of Creativity and Beauty. Also, this skill includes arts, so I'm guessing things like music and paintings.

Nexus Adaptation: Adapting to the hostile and extreme environment of a nexus, even if the vast majority of the ambient mana is being siphoned, has made this race more resistant to heat and mana toxicity.

Nexus—is that what a place of power is called? That explains why I can feel comfortable, even though we're sitting right above steaming hot water.

Inspirational Greatness: The dedication to the arts and crafts have made this race more creative, granting them a (+100%) to Creativity Essence.

Another crafting-centered skill and this one also talks about essences. Still don't know what they are, though.

Myrou's Children: As dedicated and fervent followers of Myrou, the Runalymo receives a (+120%) bonus to casting beauty and creativity spells.

It directly says spells, so that is a direct confirmation of magic.

Next to note is that nothing fills my class slot. Also, my race skills don't have levels like my general skills do. Then there's my Bond—not sure what that is—but it makes sense with these bath-obsessed people and their worship of the goddess of beauty. I wonder if everyone here has the same Bond?

Lastly are the stats. Strength, Agility, and Endurance are fairly self-explanatory. I probably get a large negative from these because I'm a weak baby.

Vitality: How much vitality your body can hold. Your body will be unable to hold a soul without it.

So if I lose too much, I'll die. It's my health points, in other words.

Intelligence: Learning capabilities and magical and spell potential.

I have thirty-two; is that high or low?

Wisdom: Ability of one's memorization and magical and spell control.

So high wisdom equals better memory and better control of spells; it seems like a good stat to have.

Charisma: Ability to draw and keep the attention of others. Increases Mana flow.

Hmm, not sure what it means by mana flow, but I assume it's related to how fast I can cast spells? The fact that each stat has an additional effect means I should look a bit more closely at the physical ones too.

Strength: Ability of one's strength and maximum amount of spell augmentation.

Let me see if I get this right. Strength also increases how much you can magically buff or augment yourself?

Agility: Reaction time, running speed, dexterity, and flow of spell augmentation.

So strength is how much you can augment yourself, and agility is how fast you can do it?

Endurance: Ability to resist poisons, diseases, physical and magical damage.

Yeah, this one is self-explanatory.

We get out of the bath and back to the hut. I'm put back into the crib, and with my mental exhaustion, I fall asleep almost immediately.

* * *

It's been a few days, and I'm now ten days old! I've learned a few phrases "Laeso" (La-es-o). It's a greeting used in the morning, and during the afternoon, it's the same word, but the "es" is spoken in a higher pitch. In the evening, the greeting is "Laesoo" with the "O" dragged out; it's nuanced and was hard to figure out at first, but it clicked, so I'm now able to get it. Lastly, "Laa"' is used when parting. In short, those roughly translate into "good morning," "good afternoon," "good evening," and "goodbye." But laziness shows up everywhere, and many people just say "La" or "Laa" when greeting or saying farewells—talk about confusion.

My intelligence and wisdom stats seem to be working overtime here, I thought I'd never be able to learn a word, but here I am, one down and so many more to go.

Other than language, I've learned that these people bathe three times a day. After they wake up, after work, and altogether in a special bathing area after the bonfire. Bathing in the special bath without everyone else isn't allowed, though it's allowed to not bathe with everyone else, but probably frowned on.

I've not used [Sense Mana] since I first used it. I know I should grind the skill, but every time I'm about to do so, I remember the pain, and that discourages me from doing it.

Mom takes me everywhere she goes, especially when visiting friends—she likes to show me off. That's where I meet the bane of my existence. A jealous three-year-old, the daughter of a woman who looks similar to Mom and even has the same eyes and hair color, I remember her; she was there at my birth.

I'm pretty sure she's Mom's sister, my aunt, which makes the bully, Nyam, my cousin. Ever since I've been introduced to the group, all the women have been gushing over me, and poor Nyam has been left out. She's thrown quite a few tantrums. Pulled my ears and tail three times and hit me a few other times. I've nurtured quite a grudge against the little devil.

Nyam is slightly boyish, although wearing feminine clothing. Her hair is blue but not quite the same shade as her Mom — my Aunt — and her eyes amber, unlike her mother.

We are currently at a mid-sized house at a social gathering with about a dozen other women. There are several children, but they are off playing somewhere else; only my and Nyam are stuck with our parents for being too young. The house is quite nice and well made. Paintings decorate the wall with the hosts' family, and curtains hang bunched up to the sides of the windows to let light in.

Nyam is running Around and generally causing a ruckus and annoying the other women as they talk around a well-made table.

"Nyam! Faun!" Aunty says sternly. She says "Faun" numerous times whenever Nyam is acting up, so I assume it means to "stop" or "cease."

Nyam ignores her mother and continues throwing things. When Aunty stands, Nyam scampers off. The blue-haired woman sighs, sitting back down, and mutters something while burying her hands in her face. The next thing I know, I feel a tugging on my tail.

"Whaaa!" I cry out in surprise and mild pain. Mom holds me, but my long tail hangs out from the blanket I'm wrapped in. Nyam laughs impishly and runs away, chased after by Aunty woman. I still cry as Mom tries to soothe me; I know it's petty to continue crying even after the pain subsided, but I don't want to be here if Nyam is going to bully me, and I'm hoping I'll be left behind next time.

Soon enough, Nyam is caught and brought to us to apologize; Nyam throws a tantrum instead and cries. The group breaks up early today as Nyam has to be disciplined.

Serves you right for pulling an innocent baby's tail!

Sure, a three-year-old doesn't have much strength, but I'm a baby!

We return to our hut after that, looking rather small after being in a proper house, and Mom goes back to doing whatever she does in our hut. Meanwhile, I meditate; I want to improve my [Sense Mana], but I know it's going to be painful—eh, I'll do it tomorrow. For now, I go back to the soul wall. I probably shouldn't mess with it, but what's the worst that can happen, really? Gaining some cool new skills?

I halfheartedly poke and prod the wall, trying to go around it, but the wall does what the walls do best and keeps me out. Soon enough, we're off to our after-work baths. We meet Mom's white-haired lover or companion there, and they do what they usually do and snuggle up for a bit.

The next day we, including Mom's companion, visit a different hut. This is a large two-floored house where Aunty waits, and standing next to her with an arm around her stands another woman a head taller. She's the first person I've seen not wearing a dress—instead, she wears pants. I can easily see her toned abs and defined arm muscles. She looks like a professional swimmer; her brown hair still wet from the morning bath. The most surprising thing, however, is that her pants have an unmistakable bulge.

Chapter 4: Meeting the family

I guess that explains the lack of men. Honestly, the clues were adding up, but I was just going off of a bias that men didn’t have breasts, but the fact that just about half of the people are taller, the fact that the skill “Nutritional Milk” is a race thing, and the multiple couples of short and tall women around really should have clued me in on this.

In fact, now that I’m looking more closely, there are subtle differences between males and females other than the large height difference. Slightly larger arms, for example. Narrower hips, though still in the range of female humans. Smaller-than-“average” breasts, and a few other things I can point out.

This also means that the white-haired “woman” is actually my Dad. That explains a lot.

Just then, two couples arrive. They certainly look older but not wrinkly, like they’ve aged gracefully. Two pairs of short and tall people. One of the women looks similar to Mom, so I guess these are my grandparents. I assume the one with blue hair and eyes is my grandmother on my mom’s side, and my grandfather has red hair and green eyes. On my Dad’s side, both my grandparents have white hair; my grandmother has yellow eyes, and my grandfather has red eyes. They wear the same type of dresses as everyone else, just in different colors.

“Laeso,” they greet in turn.

We enter the large house that I thought was my Aunt’s but turns out to be my grandparents’ on my mom’s side—if the near-lifelike paintings of my Mom and Aunt as children are any indicator. Still, how did they get blue paint? I thought blue dye was hard to come by? Anyway, the house sports a large community room that can easily fit dozens of people and has a kitchen nearby where it seems several people are making food.

We gather in the lounge, and it isn’t long before the rest of the extended family arrives. More aunts, uncles, and cousins, the family is larger than I thought and...yup, that’s Nyam, although now that I know what to look for—she is a he.

Upon seeing me in Mom’s arms, Nyam’s face sours. Great, the trouble starts now.

Nyam surprisingly doesn’t cause too much trouble, but I guess he’s still getting attention with how many adults are around; although I’m getting much more and not the good kind, I am getting that awful baby talk again... blech.

Once everyone has arrived, we sit in well-made and stylized chairs arranged in a half-circle—well, I’m being held, this time by my Dad. To start off this event, Dad and Mom, when prompted, stand and walk to the center to show off the newest member of the family—me. With everybody lined up in a neat half-circle, I can easily get a clear picture of the entire family.

At least half of the family has the same Royal blue hair color that Mom, Aunty, and, if the genetic pattern is anything to go by, I do too. The others all have different hair colors, and the pairings of them with the blue hairs show that the children are slightly more likely to inherit blue hair even if it’s not the royal blue shade.

Mom and Dad talk for a few minutes, probably about me and some other stuff. Some things make people laugh, and I hope that isn’t something I’ve done. After introducing me to the family, we sit back down, and Dad passes me off to Mom. I watch as more people go to the center to talk, show off a talent, or something they made. One girl, maybe about fourteen, shows a beautiful one-piece dress with embroidery tastefully decorating the whole thing, kinda like spiderwebs mixed with tribal art. The dress wraps around the breasts, connects to the back with a Y and has an amethyst shell holding the wraps together. The “webs” starts on the left and spreads from there.

A “man” — it’s still kind of hard to think of them as men considering how feminine they are — shows off a masterfully made and decorated drum, but instead of leather, it seems to be some sort of treated cloth for the part you strike. There’s a small hole that one can cover with a hand to change the sound. The man skillfully plays the drum, not a full song, as his purpose is to show off the drum, so I guess his profession is as an instrument maker.

Once show-and-tell is over, we begin the main socializing event. The few children run off to play; thankfully, I’m not harassed by Nyam. A few people go into the kitchen to finish cooking up food for everybody, and a surprising amount of people move off to the side to play music. they must have reherssed or something as they all quickly start following the lead. Occasionally more will join as others leave to take a break from playing.

There’s some dancing, and I’m passed off to my Aunt as my parents dance together—they are, like many, graceful in their moves. It dawns on me that these people are artists, taking pride in learning music and painting, in dancing and crafting. Probably everybody has been forced to learn more than one art to pursue.

Considering they probably worship Myrou, the Goddess of Beauty and Creativity, it should not have been surprising that they take beauty, art, and crafts seriously. Hmm, if I have to choose... Well, I’ve always wanted to be an artist—at least I get that feeling about my past life. Maybe I was one? I dunno.

Usually, I’ll be put in my crib to rest by now, and admittedly, I’ve fallen asleep while meditating more often than not. But today is the family gathering, so I’m being passed around from person to person, and I’m wiped out. After nursing, I pass out, only to be rudely woken up sometime later, having my ears pulled.

Fuck you, Nyam!

I hear the scampering of not one but two little bodies as I wail. It takes Mom a long time and a lot of soothing for me to stop crying. I fall back asleep crying, being surprisingly tiring. I would have kept crying because if Nyam wanted to be my problem, I’d make him everyone else’s problem too.

I wake up around the time for an after-work bath. The whole extended family crowds a bathing area and takes longer than usual to get out. With how many bathing areas there are, I doubt anyone is really inconvenienced. After the bath, everyone goes home, and finally, I can rest without worry of some brats bullying me.

***

Three days later, we wake up early; well, I’m woken up by being picked up. Instead of visiting some new place, Mom takes me and goes to the docks along with Dad. We get on a large boat—large for these people, anyway. There are hundreds, maybe even thousands of boats on the waters, all heading to one location, Temple Island. The Aurora waterfall... Aurora-fall looks to be sucked into the top of the pyramid, and as we get closer to the island, I can feel the increase in mana. It feels like the air gets heavier and thicker or like being underwater.

Temple Island is very close to ours, and now that I see from afar, our’s is one of the larger ones, not as large as Temple Island, though. The dragon is off somewhere flying around, probably fishing up Krakens or whatever dragons eat.

Today seems to be a special day for some reason, everyone, and I mean everyone, is rowing to Temple Island. Thousands of boats are on the water, all heading toward one location, Temple Island. We ride through the steam of the sea, not bothered by the heat nor the humidity; in fact, it feels rather nice.

We dock at the island where a warehouse and a few other builds are. Stone Roads with grass sprouting between the stones branch out from the docks, one heads to the pyramid temple, which stands not too far from the docks. Another road leads to a forest with neatly lined up trees on one side. Another road stretches off to the distance to several large pits in the ground, and the last road goes beyond the horizon.

As we walk closer to the Temple and now I can get a better look at it. Liquid fire runs down from the top of the gold accentuated stone, pooling in the intricately etched stepped sections on each side of the stairs leading up the mountainous pyramid. Grooves have been carved at the corners to direct the flames down into pools of the flames.

From the bottom stepped part of the Pyramid corners flows aqueducts which carries the liquid flames to the corners of the gold accentuated stone walls surrounding the premise of the Temple with an archway leading to the inner entrance of the Temple. The entrance into the Temple splits the stairs to the top, where grand golden designs are displayed around the frame of the equally grand door.

The top of the pyramid looks to be a gemstone with swirling lights glowing from within a dark void. Supporting it are four golden pillars, and beneath it is a pool of liquid fire which is fed by the gemstone piece on top. I can see a faint twirling storm of the mana aurora falling into the pyramid top; the sheer amount of mana the artifact is absorbing makes me realize that without it, no life can live in this volcano. I don’t know how I came to realize that, but I know that the mana in the air will quickly kill anyone, except for the dragon probably. As if to confirm my suspicions, I get a notification.

Ting! You have gained Mana Toxicity Tolerance.

Mana Toxicity Tolerance: Being exposed to high amounts of mana density can lead to a build-up of mana, poisoning you. This skill will help you tolerate mana poisoning.

I wonder how long that has sat there, collecting energy, protecting my people from dying. Who made it? Why live here at the mercy of this Temple? My marveling at the grand structure is interrupted as several people start crowding around me and my parents, some cooing over me and others greeting my parents like long-lost friends; it seems like Dad has moved to our island some time ago and left some friends behind.

The Runalymo people sure love their social gatherings, first is the gathering at the end of every day, then the family get-together and now this. They like to show off their creations, their family, their skills. These people probably form bonds very easily; will I have to do the same?

I see a lot of children running around and a few babies as well; it looks like I’m not the only one born this year. There’s a playground on the nearby beach with a few balls, and the children gather there to play some games, not interested in the adults’ mingling.

A group of early teenagers plays some volleyball-type game with four “nets.” The nets are long pieces of cloth held up by four wooden poles in the ground. A net is set to divide from the ground up to near the middle, then there’s a gap, and another “net” is tied to block the top. Between the poles, to which the other nets are tied, is a gap to form a vertical gap and a horizontal gap between the four nets.

It seems like passing the ball through the gaps earns you points or something. The ball is passed by bumping it to other players to try and score a point on the other team; only the server is allowed to hold the ball when the ball is being served. It seems the horizontal gap is worth more points than the vertical one as most kids try to go for the horizontal ones.

Other than children playing, I also see some exchange of goods and coins here and there. Businessmen... businesswomen... whatever, will always do their thing no matter the occasion, it seems.

I’m stuck with Mom and Dad, currently in Dad’s arms while Mom talks with a few long-distance friends. Dad has gotten a small break from his friends and is currently playing with me. He... she? Can they even count as men? They’re essentially women with dicks... Know what? I’ll just refer to them as “she,” less confusion on my part; a she with a downstairs package. I believe there was a word for that—I think it was...Hermaphrodite? Something like that.

Anyway, Dad is trying...her? Herm? It’ll work. Trying herm hand at peekaboo, I’m not amused. I just look away to more interesting things. Dad looks dejected, herm red eyes looking sad as herm white ears droop, which perks up as Dad gets an idea and swings me around.

“Whaa!” I cry in surprise.

Please don’t swing me around like that. I never liked roller coasters before, and I won’t like them now!

Dad sighs in resignation as I squirm around and cry, muttering something to herself. After some time, I don’t know how long, everybody trails onto one of the roads to the pits. As we near, I see a huge inset coliseum comes into view, with decorated banners displayed. Instead of building up, it’s dug in the ground. It’s enormous with hundreds—no, thousands of people already seated. I didn’t realize there were so many people. Around half, probably more, of the seats are already filled. My family chooses a row in the middle and sits together.

Once the vast majority of people sit, two people walk down a flight of stairs that divides the audience into two half circles. They wear magnificent capes and very little clothing, pretty much a bikini. At least it makes it easy to see who’s a hermaphrodite or female. In this case, both are hermaphrodites. Once at the sand of the pit, they enter a battle stance.

The fight starts, and the contestants sling spells at each other, and eventually, one wins over the other. A set of fighters enter then, more after another winner is declared. A tournament of battle prowess is fought between all the islands. Some people cheer more for their island fighters, but they never boo the other side, accepting defeat with grace when it happens; there can only be one grand winner after all.

A sense of wonderment fills me at the sight of the fight, not because of the fighting itself but rather the display of supernatural abilities; It cements the fact that I really am in a world filled with fantastical things. Something about my dormant past life—I’m not sure what — is so entranced by magic. It’s just a natural thing, right? I’m not this entranced by the wind or the water. Magic, yes, spirits, yes, those fascinated me, but not “mundane” things, but a warrior’s fighting prowess, their supernatural speed, and their power, that can send someone flying into the stone walls of which they can survive, that, to me is fantastical.

Once the battle tournament is done, the Olympic-style contests start. Speed races, throwing competitions—things like that. Since all competitors can compete at the same time, it goes by a lot faster.

This is also interesting to watch. Not the competitions themselves but the competitor’s supernatural abilities. The races have people blitz around as they become blurs— the racers have to wear distinct colors to be identified as a colored blur. The strength throw has them hurling boulders, and the magic contests have people summon beautifully dancing flames or lights or whatever the contestants specialize in.

By the end of the day, many types of contests finish, from the battle tournament to dancing. I actually fell asleep halfway through, shortly after the after-work bath.

The evening is another socializing event as dusk falls and casts the sky in orange colors. People talk about the events — I assume — and congratulate the contestants and their island for their achievement. It’s boring, so I fall asleep through this too.

Chapter 5: Cursed skill

Sleeping for the better part of yesterday has me wide awake in the middle of the night. Welp— other than starting at the ceiling or waking my parents up, there’s nothing better to do, so I meditate, focusing on my soul until I reach the wall again. Maybe it’s blocking me from truly accessing my memories? In that case, maybe I should tear it down. I push against the wall, trying to topple it. I ram against it but only succeed in giving myself a minor headache—not doing that again. I pound against the wall, but nothing works.

Give me my memories back!

I mentally sit cross-legged in front of the wall. Then it hit me—this is all within me, a construct of my mind, so I should just be able to use my imagination to make something to help me get past this wall. It’s worth a try, anyway; I imagine a pickaxe and, to my astonishment, one appears in my hand. Grinning, I swing it at the wall only to be forcibly yanked out of my meditation as a sudden piercing pain assails my mind.

I hold my head and curl up as the ultimate brain freeze creeps over my mind; I just lie there groaning, in too much pain to cry out. I ignore the several “tings” going off in my head, signaling skill level-ups. It isn’t until light peeks through the windows that the pain has finally subsided.

Right—no forcing my way through the wall, never again. I’d rather have my eyes burned out from [Sense Mana] practice.

Alright, let’s check what I’ve gained.

Ting! Pain Tolerance has obtained levels 2-9!

Ting! Pain Tolerance has met the requirements for a breakthrough and will continue leveling past level 10.

Pain Tolerance: You have been subjected to high pain; this will help you tolerate such pain again.

1ˢᵗ Breakthrough: You felt true pain; this will help let you tolerate true pain

As I am checking my system notifications, Mom comes in, and we go to the baths. The statue with Myrou’s image projected onto it quirks an eyebrow at me; again, no one seems to notice. Other than Myrou watching me, the bath is uneventful. After bathing, Dad goes to work, and we return home.

Mom carries me for a little while, her royal blue hair getting in my face, then puts me in my crib and goes off to do whatever, probably work. Speaking of, does she even work? She’s home all day; maybe she does homemaking work? It’s not like we have washing machines, whatever those are.

Welp, back to meditation... or I could not; after all, that was a painful experience. Then again, I might regain my memories, and I’ll be able to actually know what volcanoes and washing machines are... However, I can just wait for my memories to slowly return if what the goddess says is true, but that’s twenty years—that’s...uh... How many days are in a year? Three hundred? Four hundred? Meh, let’s, for the sake of argument, say it’s three hundred and fifty days. Then that’ll be...three and a half thousand for ten years, so seven thousand days for twenty... Seven. Thousand. It’s been like fifteen, and yet it seems like it’s taking so long.

Alright, just one more try, no pain, and if it still is, then I’ll just fucking wait. I convince myself to give the soul thing one more go; waiting seven thousand days just seems too long.

I begin meditating again, slowly going back into my... inner self? I dunno what to call it, but anyway, I’m back to the wall. No breaking it—I haven’t even left a scratch, and that was super painful. Actually, damaging the thing might just kill me.

How about I just use my imagination to make a door? If making a pickaxe can work, then simply transforming the wall should, too; I should have just started with that.

I focus on making a small door within the barrier. Slowly the barrier shifts, forming a door in it. No pain whatsoever is going great so far! I sit down, calming my excited nerves, and once I’m calm again, I open the door and walk through. Strange, there’s nothing here—where is everything? Where are my memories? Shouldn’t this be the inside of my soul?

Two “tings” bring my attention back, and I try to open my eyes, but I can’t. In a panic, I look around. My soul barrier door is still open. I manifested my inner body there—maybe I have to return? I squeeze through the door and close it, and focus back on opening my eyes again.

For a brief moment, the world looks... strange, but before I can comprehend it, pain assaults my mind like a million hot needles drilling into my head.

“Whaaaa!” I cry out in pain. Every sensation of pain possible I feel. The stabbing and burning sensation fight to dominate other pains, growing ever more intense only to be eclipsed by shocking, electric pain. It feels like I am getting ripped apart, chewed from the inside out by tiny creatures, and melted by acid. Then the pain of being burned alive and drowned takes the lead as the pain of my bones snapping and breaking into thousands of tiny pieces tries to catch up. I shut my eyes as hard as a can, all the pain dying down, but the ordeal is too much for me to pay any heed to the several “tings” echoing through my mind.

I hear Mom rush into the room and feel her pick me up. I can sense her distress as she looks around to see what could have hurt me. Not seeing anything, she starts soothing me with her purring and stroking my head. Tears streak down my cheeks as my body trembles violently. I vow to never again mess with my soul, I should have paid attention to the warning signs, but my idiocy put this pain on me.

As I calm down, I focused on my notifications hoping for an answer.

Ting! You have gained the Astral Projection cursed skill!

Astral Projection: You have sent out your consciousness outside of your soul; this skill will help you grow into a master of Astral Projection.

Ting! You have gained the True Sight cursed skill!

True Sight: You have seen other layers of reality; now, nothing can hide from your sight.

Ting! Pain Tolerance has obtained levels 10-13!

Ting! Pain Tolerance has met the requirements for a breakthrough and will continue leveling past level 20.

2ⁿᵈ Breakthrough: You have felt magical pain. This will help you ignore magical pain.

Well, that’s a lot of information—first are breakthroughs. It seems that expanding a skill in a very similar way but not quite covered by the skill will expand the scope of the skill. Pain Tolerance only deals with mundane pain, not covering “true” pain or magical pain, in other words. So if you want to increase your skill, you need to expand it somehow.

Next is the elephant in the room. Cursed skills.

General Skill 1: Sense Mana 3/20

General Skill 2: Pain Tolerance 13/30

General Skill 3:

General Skill 4:

General Skill 5:

General Skill 6:

General Skill 7:

General Skill 8:

General Skill 9:

General Skill 10:

Cursed Skill 1: Astral Projection 1/10

Cursed Skill 2: True Sight 1/10

Yup, that’s new. I guess you can’t just get rid of cursed skills. Once you gain them, you have them forever; of course, that’s just speculation. Still, this shows that you can add things. Skills and perhaps Classes, it’s not a hard cap but more like a soft cap? Expanding your Skills or Classes would probably require accomplishing hard or dangerous achievements. Take the cursed skills, for example. True sight seems to do... something, while Astral Projection risks you not returning to your body.

It’s possible that any new additions can be considered “cursed.” Being born with a set amount of skills once more is gained, it’s burned into you; but, again, this is speculation. I don’t know why I gained cursed skills and not just more general skills; I have the slots, after all.

Still, now I know what really happened. The wall was keeping me in, not out. I guess the consciousness is held within the outer regions of the soul or something while the inner soul is probably where my memories lie dormant? Question is, do I risk delving deeper into my soul for the memories? No, There was a barrier for a reason, and I will never mess with my soul again, not after that pain.

True sight says it’s cursed, right? Does that mean it’s the cause of the pain, or was that because I was fucking around in my soul? If it is, then can I not use it?

I focus on not activating/deactivating the skill. I feel nothing, so I slowly crack open an eyelid. The world still looks different, and Immediately pain drives into my head once again. A lot less this time since my vision is limited; however, I can only just bare it.

Fuck, I still have the soul barrier door. I really hope that’s the cause. Mom must have noticed me tense up as she hugs me tighter and redoubles her soothing.

Once the pain subsides again, I start meditating; Mom’s soothing purr somehow makes it easier. Again I stand in front of the barrier’s door. I focus and remove the door, and specifically, return the door back to just being a wall; actually removing the door would have probably left a hole, and that wouldn’t have been good.

Alright, let’s try this again.

With nerves making my stomach twist in knots, I once again focus on deactivating and not using the True Sight skill. I slowly crack an eyelid. The world still hasn’t returned to normal, and pain stabs my mind again.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

How do I not use this damned skill?!

Chapter 6: A Mother’s Worries

It’s been a week, and Alysara hasn’t once opened her eyes, ever since she’s had that nightmare. A part of me wonders if it really was a nightmare, however. Feyan has never heard her scream in such pain before. There has been no traces of magic being used. The healer has tried to look at her eyes, but the moment her eyes have been forced open, she starts screaming in pain again. Nothing is found in her eyes to cause the pain.

Alysara has been restless and making cute groaning sounds. Feyan strokes her royal blue hair, wishing she would open her eyes. Feyan loves Alysara’s eyes: an icy blue eye, and a striking red eye. Her mismatched eyes, like two gems, encapsulate two opposites. Heterochromia is already rare and a desirable trait, even more so when it’s opposites.

It’s kind of why Feyan and her husband are called a good fit. Feyan’s deep blue eyes and Kanato’s strong red eyes capture the desired opposites, a balance one could call it.

Feyan senses Alysara has fallen asleep and puts her in her crib. She stands above her, wearing a worried frown.

“We could take her to the Guardian,” Kanato, Feyan’s husband, says, wrapping an arm around the shorter woman’s shoulders. Feyan rests her head against Kanato.

“We shouldn’t bother the great one with something trivial,” Feyan says after a moment.

“Feyan, children don”t act this way—something is seriously wrong.”

“We could see another healer—perhaps Fynato island has someone who can help!” Feyan starts to sound desperate.

Kanato brings her close in a hug and strokes her long blue hair.

“The best healer on that island is my sister, and she has already looked at Little Aly, Feyan. I’m beginning to think this might be a cursed skill.”

Feyan shakes her head. “She’s not even a month old! How can she have a cursed skill?! How would she gain one? She’s just a baby!” Feyan’s voice started to crack due to her worry

“Calm down, Fey. Let’s not wake little Aly up.”

“I just—I don’t know what to do. What if this is permanent? How can she live a full life blind to the beauty of this world?”

“There are other ways to experience beauty.” Although Kanato says that, she has a hard look. Beauty is mostly experienced with sight, one of Myrou’s domains. In order to live a full life, one must hold Myrou’s essences to heart. “We’ll figure something out and help her through life.” Kanato holds her wife tighter.

“What if it really is a cursed skill? How can we…” Feyan trails off. Little is known about cursed skills. If one thing is known, it’s that all attempts to remove or replace them have failed.

“We’ll do what we can and love her all the same. I have to go to work now. I hope I’ll be back before the Lojyo.” Kanato lets go of Feyan.

“What are you working on that requires you to work from sunup to sundown?” Feyan asks, now that her mind has been distracted from Alysara, she seems to have relaxed a little.

“Do you have something in mind for Little Aly’s Kyhosa?" Kanato asks.

“Her life celebration gift? Every time I think about it, my mind just goes blank. I’ve asked for ideas, but nothing speaks to me—nothing seems to fit our little girl just right.” Feyan’s eyes start to well up in tears. “I’m a horrible mother! I can’t even think of something that fits Aly’s Kyhosa, let alone make it before her Kyholo!”

“Every parent has that issue, Feyan, you don’t need to beat yourself up so much. We still have half a month before her life celebration, and it’s good that your [Perfectionist’s Eye] skill is telling you that those ideas aren’t ideal—some parents simply give up and go with an expensive gift rather than something that fits perfectly, and the fact that you’re so worked up about it means you care.” Kanato hugs Feyan again.

“And who says that she needs an individual gift from both of us?” Kanato continues. “Why not give the one gift that we both made?”

“What do you mean?" Feyan asked

“I found a nexus gem.”

Feyan gasps.

“A nex... How?! We can’t afford something like that! Do you know how much those cost?!”

“It’s not on sale, Fey, no one’s selling it. I found it last month when I was diving with Wimola. I’ve been working on it all this time, but I’m no jeweler, I’m just a gem cutter. You, however—you’re a jeweler.”

“But everyone gets two Kyhosa—are you really fine with Aly only having one?”

Kanato smiles. “Who said anything about one? I said having an individual gift from both of us.” Feyan looks shocked. “The nexus gem is quite large, large enough for two gifts. I’m hoping I’ll have them done by today.”

“You’re such a blessing, Kanato. Still, don’t you think a nexus gem is too much? The elders won’t like it. It should be devoted to Myrou.”Ever since I started working on it, Myrou has been smiling—she’s been hinting at something ever since I found it, but when I drew up a plan for Myrou’s devotion project, she frowned. She wants this.”

“Myrou... Now that you mention it, she’s been smiling at me too, ever since Aly’s conception. Do you… do you think she might have been blessed by the goddess?” Feyan asks, hope in her eyes.

“Others have noticed Myrou’s been acting weird lately, and it all coincides with Aly’s birth. She’s special—that’s for certain. I think the elders will let this pass, although I may have to do some explaining, and I plan to do that once I’ve finished the cutting.” Kanato turns around to leave. I best get going. I’m already running late.”With that, Kanato walks out of the room.

Feyan turns back to Alysara and smiles. If she’s blessed by the goddess, then everything will be alright.

* * *

“You really poured your soul into this—it’s absolutely flawless, and even then there’s something more to it, as if beauty incarnate resonates within.” Elder Tusile says, putting the gem down. Although she gave a compliment, she still wears a frown. “However, it’s blasphemy to devote yourself to such a degree to anyone other than the goddess—you were right to come to us before you made a mistake. It’s not too late to change the purpose of your project.”

Kanato holds a steadfast gaze. She won’t be punished for wasting such a material, but the elders still don’t like the plan.

“It is as you say, Myrou has been hinting at something, but to say she actually wants such devotion to anything other than her domains... Kanato, you should not misread her intentions,” Elder Opetu says. She shakes her head. “I know you love your child, but, please, cease this foolishness.”

“Elders, you speak wisdom, and I am truly grateful you care about me to set me back on the correct path—but, if I may suggest something.”

Elder Yukika sighs.

“Kanato, devotion to Myrou brings fulfillment to our lives. It is through her teachings that we can live this life without regret.”

“I know, Elder Yukika. That is why I suggest we test my interpretation of her hints.”

“And how do we do that?” Elder Tusile asks.

“We take my child to Myrou’s likeness in the temple and lay these gems on her. Surely the goddess will give us a sign.”

The elders remain silent for several minutes before Elder Yukika speaks.

“It’s a fine test. With this, we can ask the goddess directly, but Kanato, you know the consequences. If she doesn’t like it…” Yukika trailed off.

It’s blasphemy to ask mundane and especially trivial or foolish things of the goddess. If the goddess frowns upon my suggestion...

“I’ll take the Analysha,” Kanato says. The elders widen their eyes. “If I displease the goddess, I’ll make a statue of her likeness.”

“Kanato, don’t be a fool!” Elder Opetu exclaims.

“There’s only ever been one person to have ever successfully completed the Analysha, Kanato,” Yukika says. “You did well—no, perfectly with the nexus gems, but not even that will be enough for the Analysha. When you fail, you’ll only be in more trouble!”

Elder Tusile remains silent until the other two are done.

“If that is your resolve, then I will allow it.”

“Tusile! You can’t let her throw her life away!” Yukika argues.

“I have to second Yukika. This is unreasonable,” Opetu agrees.

“Elders, I understand your worries, but I intend to attempt the Analysha regardless; the only difference would be when I do it.”

“Kanato—” Yukika starts, but Kanato raises her hand to stop her.

“While working on the nexus gems, I gained a skill, [Essense Sight (Beauty)]. It allows me to see the magical essence of beauty itself. The reason why most people fail the Analysha is because they can’t capture the full likeness of the goddess—they can capture her physical likeness, but the likeness of her essence remains unseen by them.” Kanato pauses to let her words sink in. “With this skill, I will be able to capture her true likeness, both physical and magical; I need only to hone this skill.” Kanato finishes and let the Elders digest what she said.

“Very well,” Elder Opetu finally says after a long time.

“Opetu, you can’t seriously agree to this madness!” Yukika exclaimes. “What about the other essences? The magical essence of creativity? Myrou is both! She can’t succeed with both essences!”

“I already have that one, Elder Yukika, I’ve had it for three years now.”

“But you—”

“Give it up, Yukika. Someone is bound to have the capabilities of passing the Analysha, and if Kanato has such abilities, then the least we can do is support her choice in this matter,” Tusile says. “Come to the temple in three days, and we’ll test your child—if she really is loved by Myrou, you may devote the nexus gems to her Kyhosa.”'

“Thank you, elders,” Kanato says with a bow and leaves.

* * *

“I’m still not sure about this, Kanato," Feyan says. She holds Alysara while Kanato rows the boat toward Temple Island. Kanato hasn’t mentioned the test with the likeness of the goddess to not worry her wife.

“If anything goes wrong, I’ll take responsibility. Don’t worry about anything.”

“Don’t worry? Kanato! I don’t want anything to happen to you either!” Feyan chides.

“The Guardian doesn’t hold grudges, Feyan. She sees us as children—nothing will happen to me.”

“I hope you’re right, Kanato. But this isn't necessary.”

The boat docks at the piers, and Kanato ties it off. She steps on the pier and holds out a hand for Feyan.

“We have to make sure. Besides, we are here for another reason as well.”

“We are? What is it?” Feyan tilts her head with a frown.

“You’ll see. But first—let’s meet the Guardian.”

They walk a stone path several kilometers until the huge sapphire dragon comes into view. With horns made of actual sapphire, and gleaming scales the size of Kanato’s torso. Claws long enough to tower over houses, and long sapphire spines trailing down her back to the tip of her long tail. The immense magical pressure weighs heavily on them, making them stop, quite some distance away, for fear of Alysara’s health.

As if sensing their presence, the dragon stirs. Raising her large head and sits proudly with her chest out.

“Little ones, what have you come to me for? Do you seek wisdom? Guidance from your superiors? Don’t be shy. Ask me what you so desperately seek,” the Guardian says with a gentle but commanding tone.

“You are very generous, Guardian. I am sorry to disturb your rest," Feyan says with a deep bow. Kanato follows suit.

“It is our child, Guardian—something ails her, something no healer has been able to figure out. Please, we don’t ask for healing—we just need to know what’s wrong with our child,” Kanato says, still bowing.

“Hmm, I sense nothing wrong with your child, little one. No illness, no defect. The only strange thing is how unnaturally healthy she is?” The Guardian says.

“Every time she opens her eyes, she screams in pain,” Kanato replies. “I fear it might be a cursed skill.”

The dragon goes silent for what feels like an eternity.

“It is difficult to see something like that, little one, but your intuition is likely correct. I’ll need to examine her more closely—bring her closer, little one.”

Kanato and Feyan look at each other, then both step forward, Feyan holding Alysara tighter as the magical pressure increases, so much so that she grits her teeth. It’s hard for her to even breathe, and she worries it might be too hard for her child.

“That’s close enough, little ones,” the dragon says when half the distance has been closed. “Hmm… Yes, she bears a mark on her soul… Strange. Very strange…”

Feyan doesn’t dare question the Guardian—she wants nothing more than to increase the distance between them and get her child to safety. She feels Alysara struggling to breathe under the pressure.

Feyan strokes her child’s hair and purrs for her comfort.

“...A mark of the Great Spirits, a blessing of beauty, and...one other, barely noticeable, applied more to her mind than body,” the Guardian says, her words elating Feyan.

A blessing of beauty! Alysara really is blessed by Myrou!

Kanato sighs in relief.

“There are indeed two scars on her soul... An expansion of her essence... Yes, she has two cursed skills, though what they do, I cannot tell.”

Feyan feels her heart tighten. Two cursed skills?

“There is more, though I cannot tell what, but this is no ordinary soul—too pure and… dormant? How curious, but...a forceful awakening?” The dragon muses. “No, the Great Spirits knew this irregularity and did not act... It will be prudent to heed their caution... A forceful awakening may cause irreparable damage.”

What is the guardian going on about? What more is there?

“Forgive my ramblings, little ones. You may retreat and recover.”

Feyan doesn’t waste any time and rushes to a bearable distance, even a little farther than they have started.

“Thank you, Guardian,” Kanato says before joining Feyan.

"One cannot remove an expansion of their essence, little one." The dragon says. "Those skills cannot be removed."

“Thank you, Guardian! We are in your debt.” Feyan bows again.

“Yes, you are. One you can repay.” The dragon says with a calm tone, always retaining its commanding presence.

“What do you ask of us, Guardian?” Feyan says.

“Bring your child back to me in a year’s time, and every year thereafter so I may examine the irregularity of her soul. It is not detrimental in the least, but I have never once in thirty thousand years seen a soul like hers.”

Feyan shoots Kanato a dirty look who looks ashamed. The Guardian merely asked to examine Alysara, nothing else; and if she can make it out of this ordeal as an infant, then she can when older.

After the meeting with the Guardian, they go to the temple and, to Feyan’s surprise, meet the village Elders, talking with the Temple priestess.

“Are you sure you want to do this Kanato? Now’s your chance to back out,” Elder Yukika says, upon their arrival.

“Kanato.” Feyan looks at her quizzically. “What’s this about?”

“You’ll see soon, my love. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Yukika sighs “Very well. Follow us.”

The group walks up to a magnificent statue, the most beautiful thing in the world, a divine beauty, something beyond mere physicality. It’s as if the statue is a beauty incarnate.

Kanato motions for Feyan to give her Alysara. Feyan hesitantly does so. Kanato kisses Alysara’s head and places her on the altar in front of the statue. The Likeness of Myrou smiles warmly.

Murmurs erupt among the elders and priestesses. Kanato then places the nexus gems on Alysara and bows to the statue.

Feyan doesn’t interrupt—she doesn’t dare. She knows now what this is. The Elders won’t accept the nexus gems to be used for anything else other than for the devotion to Myrou, so this is to get the acceptance of Myrou herself.

The Likeness of Myrou nods once, and light envelopes the gems, imbuing it with an unworldly beauty and...something else—creativity itself.

The Likeness returns to its normal position and expression.

The whole room is dead silent. It feels like a dream to Feyan. Her child, blessed and loved by Myrou herself. She wants to pinch herself to make sure this is all real.

Noise erupts among the elders and the priestesses. Kanato leads Feyan and Alysara out of the temple.

Feyan remains silent the whole way back; although the day is young, she’s completely exhausted.