My options to busy our time are limited.

Gel won't be able to help me learn to speak better, she doesn't like speaking and her vocabulary is probably worse than mine, even if she's a few months older than I am.

We don't have toys and I don't feel like playing with a 3 year old girl. Of course, no TV, nor games, or any other visible distraction... I miss the internet. I don't know what the adults in this world normally expect from children to leave them unattended like this?

Isn't this just asking for us to start brewing trouble?

I settle for some light exercise as I have nothing better to do.

My young body is full of energy despite our earlier walk and I've never been this flexible, I intend to keep it that way. It feels strange to be this young once more, I didn't remember what it was like, my stamina can deplete in a flash but will come back as fast.

This is something I can exploit. With the right training regimen, focused on peak effort, I can improve my maximal respiratory capacity and slowly build up my stamina.

I expect that I'll have Chi like my father and grandfather, so I better get as strong a body as I can to make the best of it later on. Investing early will be worth it.

I start stretching under Gel's curious stare. Every time I look her way and our eyes meet, she shyly turns her head away. Unluckily for her, since there isn't much more to do in this small courtyard, she ends up facing my eyes when I stare back at her. Seeing that I don't bite back, she dares a question in her simple language: “what you do ?”

“What are you doing,” I correct her. She seems to understand my intention as she repeats immediately, correcting herself: “What are you doing?”

She's a smart one.

“Some exercise, I don't know what else to do?” I answer. “Want to tag along?” I offer kindly.

“Tag along?” she repeats, not understanding what I meant.

I sigh at how poor our interaction is but since she's my only company I take a second to clarify, “Do the same as me,” I tell her while trying to mimic someone mimicking someone. Yeah, mise-en-abime but I'm the only one able to understand the irony of this pun.

She shrugs but starts stretching like I do, awkwardly copying me.

I stop and correct her stance a few times, I help her stretch where she seems stiff, but overall she is fitter and more flexible than I am. I know that oestrogens exposure changes the collagen composition of the human joints. I guess it explains why a girl without training is already more flexible than I am. Reverse gender inequality.

Then we start a light jog around the courtyard. To the onlooker, we may look like we're playing an awkward chase game, as none of us is yelling nor laughing like normal children should.

She is lean but healthy and can follow my pace without difficulty. When I start feeling my muscles get sore, I stop; my childish endurance doesn't allow for long sessions and forcing through will only make me hit the hay on the spot. Children have a lot of power output but with little battery to supply it, a quickfire burning bright and noisily but quenching before long. I hope my training will change this in time and provide me with higher stamina than the average.

Gelcaria catches her breath alongside me, not daring to ask why we ran and why we stopped? Or maybe she doesn't really care? She's hard to read: her childish face doesn't express much and her lilac eyes are a mystery to me.

She seems less tired than I am but again, she is older, so it isn't surprising. I don't want to admit being weaker than a little girl, ok.

I start doing some sit-ups and she imitates me. At the tenth one, she stops and childishly says: “Gel is tired now.” She's not ranting or complaining, just stating her condition. I'm surprised she has put up with this pointless exercise for this long.

“Yes, it is tiresome and that's the point,” I reply in a hushed tone as my breath got short.

She cutely raises a brow as she doesn't get my point.

“Tomorrow we will be stronger,” I explain. I sweep the muscles aches that will come under the carpet, no need to frighten her, she is shy enough as she is right now.

“Stronger?” she asks in disbelief.

“Yes, we will grow big and strong, nothing will frighten us,” I'm voluntarily over-enthusiastic while flexing my arms to make my point with her.

This seems to please her as she nods frantically, “Yes, I want strong.” Ooh, that's an eager one.

I smile at her, I got myself a sparring partner now. Only problem being that she is stronger than me and intends to get even more.

Puberty wont come to my rescue in the foreseeable future; I really do need that Chi thing or I guess my training arc will be full of scenes of me getting beaten up by a little girl... I shrug the thought away, I'll manage somehow, I have the high ground in strength, coordination, and experience.

* * * * *

The medium bell of daybell rings twice and a few seconds later my grandmother's grizzled head appears in the door-frame:

“So, my loves, are you being nice?” she asks, before enquiring with Gel: “If he bothers you, tell Grandma', and I'll spank him!” she mimics a slap on my butt.

“Hey!” I playfully protest, while Gel giggles. She seems to be growing fond of us. Or at least the idea of seeing me get molested pleases her... Not sure if this is a good omen for my training-partner-to-be.

“I'll bring you a little something to eat, go to the potty then wash your hands before coming back.” She points at a small room near the entrance.

I'm still amazed that this world knows about basic hygiene. They probably never heard of bacteria nor viruses. On Earth, it took us till the 19th century to spread these simple habits. Maybe some trial and error empirically lead them to the correct customs? A bit like how some religion's prohibitions on food were selected to prevent some parasitic diseases on Earth.

A few minutes later, she comes back carrying a steaming teapot, followed by mom carrying a plate of crackers and a few of the ladies in trail who'll take their break with us. The bosslady is coming along.

They sit on the mats and sip on a light tea, tasting like lemon-balm. The boss has a cushion, but her plump behind is larger than her cushion. The rest of us get the simple mats or just a piece of fabric to sit right on the stone floor.

Gel and I get a small cup of tea with a glass of goat-like slimy milk (I really hope it is milk) and a bunta cracker so tough I can't munch on it, so I leave it to soften in my “milk”. Gel monkeys my action.

The warm beverage is more than welcome, the temperature is still frisky even in midday, spring is only beginning and it can get cold easily.

The ladies are gossiping about their neighbours, talking about children and work. Small talks but always good to let me learn new words. They often steal a glance at Gel to admire her eyes, attracted by the unusual colouration. At least this proves me that even in this world, this isn't the norm. My shy comrade is avoiding the curious stares focused on her, she is fixating solely on her cracker, never lifting her gaze. The ponytail the plump boss gave her hinders her from hiding behind a hair curtain.

The “lunch”break ends after what feels like an hour. Before they all rise up, the plump lady says: “Aren't these kids adorable, such good behaviour, don't you need anything little ones?” she asks. My guess is that she is trying to gentle Gel with a tempting bribe.

Before Mom can rebuke me, I grab the opportunity: “Could we have a ball, please ?” I politely plead.

Mom glares at me, oops I shouldn't have asked for something from her boss, my bad, but too late to take my words back..

The plump lady doesn't seem fazed, she smiles at me, “Of course, my dear.” She turns to the other ladies to propose in an imperative tone, “We could stitch one from the leather scraps and fill it with sand, it wouldn't be that much trouble,” she's carefully watching Gel's reaction even if I was the one to ask.

“Thank you very much,” I say, before rising and giving her a peck on her big cheek, which seems to please her very much. Old ladies are the same, in this world or the former.

My mother's brows ease and they all get back to work inside.

Grandmother stays back, cleaning up the plates and cups in a basin of water and then telling us a story, something about a beast herding other beasts and getting a reward for it.

Her stories are hard to get as they are in a different speech, almost like a dialect and the plots are nonsensical even for fables. Gel falls asleep, so I decide to go for a nap too, to free Grandma.

My rest was short. Instead of sleeping, I'm trying to train my memory and to recall as much as I can from my former life. It feels strange to remember such distant memories without a single photo or even just a piece of paper to write things down. I sometimes fear I'm going to forget myself or just go crazy. Maybe I am already crazy and just imagining my past life?

In the afternoon, I push Gel to do one more round of exercises, this time focusing on equilibrium, spatial awareness, and body coordination. One leg hopping, tumbling rolls, throws and catch with small pebbles etc..

Again, I am amazed by my little comrade. She is as nimble as a weasel and even though she makes those moves for the first time, she quickly rivals mine.

As we get tired and sit back, I switch to improving her speech. She is a good but shy student, attentive and quick to correct and improve herself, but avoiding eye contact or asking questions. Even when she obviously isn't understanding what I'm making her say.

I'm tempted to get sneaky and make her say demeaning things but in the end, I decide the mischief wouldn't be worth it. I'd rather earn her trust than make fun of her and who knows how the adults would react if they found out? I'm a good kid, I'll act like one.

By the end of the day, she isn't as shy as before and holds my stare back, though with uneasiness, letting me enjoy her lavender gaze.

As the sun gets low, the evening bell rings once, it's the lowest toned one. Mom and the ladies come to pick us up as they're all leaving work. GrandMa goes back to her home and split with us midway, I have yet to know where she lives.

Mom leads Gel and me back. We stop to drop Gel back to her family, they are our neighbours so it's not like we have to make a detour. My mom and hers exchange a few words, mostly to say that today was uneventful and that Gel behaved well. Gel cutely waves at me and I wave back.

* * * * *

After a light dinner: a beet-like red soup (I hope it isn't the blood of a monster or whatever) with a slice of bunta bread with a tiny speck of butter, I go up to bed. I'm now sharing the room upstairs with my brother and my sister got displaced to the attic.

Although she must be colder up there, she has her own room and the view is worth it. I went up there once and caught a glance of the lord's castle in the middle of the city: a huge palace atop a cropped-out mountain.

It's a big fortified building surrounded by many decorated towers, leaning dominantly above the city. At night it shines like a Christmas tree, probably through magical means. It is the light beacon of this city and the heart of the power.

One day, I'll sit atop those walls and look down on this house but for now, I fall asleep as soon as I lay in my futon. My stamina is still underwhelmingly low.

Please insert a training montage here and spare me the efforts.