Chapter 1 – A new beginning

His mind had already been empty for many years. It'd been a long time since he fell asleep only to awaken in darkness. There was no feeling in his body, but something told him that he was somewhere else. Far away from the place that inflicted atrocious amounts of pain on him. Like the clouds he had once seen a long time ago, his weightless body drifted in the void. He couldn't see, smell, or feel anything, but there was a constant voice inside his head. Unrelenting it bombarded his mind with words he couldn't understand. Without telling him anything substantial, it continued assaulting his tired mind that had yet to recover. Whatever the voice said, he didn't care. The only thing on his mind was his desire to continue his slumber that let him escape from the pain he was on the verge of remembering.

Suddenly the voice paused. Before, there had been a fog that clouded his mind and made the voice difficult to understand, but with the next question, the crystal clear voice of a female become audible to him.

“Do you accept?”

“Yes.” He answered subconsciously, hoping it would cease talking. As if to answer his prayer, the voice stopped, and so he returned to his deep slumber.

He didn't know how long he was asleep for if that was what you could call it, but he was startled awake by a sudden feeling inside his chest. Pain, the sensation of touch. For the first time for who knows how long, he could notice his own breathing. His brain was assaulted with all kinds of signals, like a firework of nerves exploding within him and overwhelming his fragile mind. With each breath he took, the searing pain inside his chest became worse. A reflex that he couldn't control caused water to leak from his eyes and he seemed to hear distant voices. They were vastly different from the other one that had been nagging him an unknown time ago. Concern and surprise mixed into the chattering, but he couldn't make out any details as his consciousness was still muddled. When he tried to focus on his surroundings, his vision was only a blur and the ringing inside his head increased the nausea he felt until darkness finally enveloped him once more.

This scene repeated itself for an unknown amount of times. He would wake up in a daze only to shortly after fall unconscious again.

Until one day he was able to hold on for a little while longer. His mind was still a mess, and he couldn't form any coherent thoughts, but he was finally able to get a grip on his surroundings.

He lay on a floor surrounded by sleeping children, probably no more than five years old. There were so many children that they had to nudge each other since the rundown room wasn't particularly big. If he could turn his head or see more clearly, he would notice two people talking to each other as they closed the door. Then he hit his limit and fell unconscious again.

Again the process repeated itself. No matter what he did, his mind was always in a fog where he barely realized when he was awake or not. Nevertheless, his senses began returning to him as he recovered from his fragile state of being. He had heard people talk, but it was a language he couldn't understand. Strange. There were many different dialects but as far as he knew there existed no more than the three languages he was fluent in.

Unlike him, the other children would always leave the room during the day and leave him alone. He had tried moving his body countless times, yet no matter how much he recovered, his body remained unresponsive for the time being. Sometimes a person, who seemed to be a caretaker of the children, would help move him around to feed and wash him. Eventually, he noticed an incredulous change regarding his body. As he struggled to look down, he saw the body of a child. His arms that used to have the strength to move a boulder twice his size were now as thin as twigs. The dirty, white shirt he was wearing was long enough to cover his legs, making it the only piece of clothing he wore.

It took him another year for his mind to recover more, and as he came to himself, he was almost shocked back into unconsciousness.

There was no trace left of the firm and masculine body he used to have. It was replaced by that of a skinny youth that was around fifteen years of age. After his mind had fully recovered, he was at a loss at what had happened. As he tried to remember, his past memories of unspeakable pain flashed within his mind, which he quickly tried to repress again. This was a memory of a long-forgotten past, yet the pain was as fresh as if it had happened just hours ago. Remembering his past and looking at his surroundings eventually filled him with indescribable emotions. With a lump in his throat, he scrambled for air as tears of happiness rolled down his face.

Whether this was only a dream or the afterlife didn't matter to him right now. At last, the eternal nightmare of torture had finally come to an end. Then, as he calmed down, he thought of another possibility. A distant and unspoken wish he'd once dreamed of during his times of despair. Far too irrational yet he wished for it to be true. He had heard of religions that believed in reincarnation, where only those that had lived a decent life would get to be reborn as a human again whereas others would suffer in the form of animals to pay for their sins.

'Yes!' He firmly believed this in his mind. 'This my reward! I was not wrong!'

He was barely able to calm down his trembling body before he took a closer look at the room he was in. It was relatively small and in dire need of renovations. There were many cracks inside the brick wall that allowed the freezing cold winter air to breeze inside. The ground was covered with numerous blankets, stitched together to prevent at least a little of the cold that threatened to freeze his bare feet.

“!” He heard a woman shout something he couldn't understand the moment she walked into the room with a meal in her hands.

She continued to talk in a frenzy, almost panicking at the situation before her. He'd remembered her as one of the caretakers that seemed slightly annoyed at his lack of reactions.

Although the language was a foreign one, there was one word that repeated itself too often.

'Michael'

It had a nice ring to it and considering it was the same word she had shouted at the beginning he could guess the meaning of it which almost made him tear up again. This had to be his name! For the first time, he had a real name of his own!

The woman was more than a little surprised at Michael's sudden recovery. She had already taken care of him many times in the last several years, but he'd never reacted before, no matter what they did. A few more words left the woman's mouth before she hurriedly left the room. She had worn a strange black robe with a hood that covered her hair entirely. He faintly remembered some of his past co-workers telling him about the nuns of the old days and the description seemed similar.

Michael patiently waited when he suddenly heard his stomach growl as if in pain. It took him a few more moments to realize what was wrong. Food! As if that realization ignited his hunger, he wolved down the meager bread and vegetable soup the nun had brought. Like a wounded beast, the dishes disappeared within seconds, lacking any semblance of how a human should eat.

Once more, he shed tears until there weren't any left. It might have been the fault of his young body that made him this easy to tear up, but he was filled with happiness and warmth he had never felt before.

His new body was barely able to endure the winter cold of the room, and his food was that of a beggar's, yet it was the most comfortable moment of his entire existence. The simple bread and soup tasted like the fruits from heaven, and the blankets on the stone-hard ground were as soft as the most luxurious beds.

Shortly after the nun returned with another woman who wore similar clothing, the only difference being the additional necklace. Michael had heard of religious crosses before, but hers depicted a symbol he didn't know of. It was a hollow circle made out of something resembling gold, containing a diagonal sword in the middle that connected the outer rings. After having regained his bearings, he took a closer look at the two nuns.

The first nun was quite young as far as Michael could guess. A few strains of red hairs had escaped her hood, which she had hurriedly hidden again. The newly arrived nun was considerably older, as indicated by the wrinkles on her face. The beauty of youth she used to have had long begun to fade. But there was no reason to lament, for it had revealed the mature charm of a kind elder. The gentle smile she gave Michael filled him with a warmth that he was immediately very fond of.

“Michael?” She asked with some concern.

In response, he looked over to her, indicating that he had understood while also confirming to himself that was indeed his name.

“Me, Mother. She, Sister Angelica. Understand?”

Although he couldn't recognize the words, he more or less guessed there meaning. He pointed at each of them and repeated what she had said.

“!” The woman calling herself Mother exclaimed something with sincere happiness as she patted his head.

“!!!”

More words he couldn't understand which were filled with sincere concern and relief that could traverse any language barrier. He looked down once more at his youthful appearance and quickly understood their surprise and relief. Apparently, he was already alive in this place for many years but barely conscious of it. Even after being reincarnated, it took more than a decade for his mind to recover from all the torture he had gone through. Disregarding that, he felt a physical weakness he hadn't ever felt before and the earlier food hadn't been enough to sate his hunger. Although these feelings obviously weren't pleasant, there was a bright smile covering his face. This was what it meant to be human!

After taking the pills and the endless work, every worker had lost their feeling of humanity. Even the Mentor from back then didn't feel alive, especially after the incident.

Hurriedly, he shook his head to disperse these ghosts of the past. This was a new beginning for him! A new life!

Mother ordered Sister Angelica to do something else before she took him outside the room, where they entered a vast church hall. It was decorated with several ornaments of unknown religions, mostly depicting golden swords. The few windows, on the other hand, were covered with wooden planks to prevent the winter air from flowing in. There was also neither an altar nor any benches where the people would usually sit and pray. In place of that, the hall was filled with several youths at around the same age that loitered around in their own groups.

“Gather round, children!” Mother shouted out, and without any delay, the children ran towards her to sit down in a semi-circle. “This is Michael.” She pushed him towards the group of youths who gazed at him with a mix of disbelief, surprise, and slight fear. “Treat him nicely, he has finally recovered from his injuries.” It wasn't difficult for Michael to grasp the meaning behind her words as he looked at the youths in front of him.

The youths looked at each other with some hesitation in their eyes. They obviously knew who he was, but this strange kid who had only laid around was something too abnormal. Irrational fears and doubts filled their minds hand they didn't make any attempts to approach him. Mother noticed their reactions as well, but she didn't have the time to integrate him into the group at the moment and hurriedly left. There was something more important she had to do before it was too late.

Meanwhile, Michael just stood there, and after being looked at by the dozens of children, they all left. They said a few words, but he couldn't understand them, so the children quickly grew even more distant. He wasn't bothered much by it. Even if he knew the language, he would have no idea how to interact with children to begin with.

Unlike the others who loitered around aimlessly and spend their time playing in groups, Michael scanned the room to find a few books lying around. The most important thing for him right now was learning the language. He didn't understand his situation at all, but figuring that out had to wait.

He picked a few of the more simplistic picture books for children and sat in a corner where he began browsing through them.

After Mother had left the hall, she went to an adjourning room. There was almost nothing inside except for a wooden table and chairs. Bleak as it was, this still was the guest room and the best she had to offer. Michael's sudden awakening was unexpected by everyone working here. They had all thought he was born defected and that there was no hope for recovery. Only Mother was adamant about taking care of him. She strictly refused any suggestion of 'putting him out of his misery' and seemed to vehemently believe in a miracle. To their surprise, it turned out as Mother had always said it would, but instead of solving a problem, it just created many new ones.

A few moments later, the expected visitor arrived in the room.

The man in front wore a military uniform mostly colored in red. On his chest, you could see a single silver medal in the form of a silver cross. The uniform was made for civil occasions and thus quite extravagant looking. He had a roughened face with a huge scar right below both of his eyes, and together with his stern expression, it made for an intimidating appearance. This expression showed the visage of a man who had endured untold hardships on the battlefield - a battle-hardened veteran. His left eye would sometimes twitch for no apparent reason, most likely the result of another injury he had gotten during war times.

Behind the man, there were two other men following closely. Both of them wore a dark red suit, and on each of their backs, they carried a dark mantle. On it, you could see a cross symbol that was stitched into it, similar to the man in front.

The three walked in as if they owned the place and didn't bother with any proper greetings. The man in the uniform sat down on the shabby chair while the two behind him stood to his sides.

“Everything still looks as run-down as ever, Catherine.” The man in uniform said.

“We wouldn't have this problem if you would give us more money, Captain. And I told you to call me Sister Catherine.” Although she corrected him, there was no trace of agitation on her face, only a calm smile unbothered by anything mundane.

“You know we can't spend any more than we already do, Catherine.” This time one of the other men spoke up. The Captain waved his hand to stop him from speaking further and continued while ignoring her earlier remark. “The Empire is in a tense situation, Catherine. Not only us, but by now the whole continent doesn't know what might happen next. Anyway, you know I'm not here for small talk. I was tasked to take a look at the children we chose suitable the last time and check their progress.”

“Regarding that, Captain. I'm not sure if you might remember a child called Michael?”

The Captain shook his head. Behind him, the two men squinted their eyes in slight annoyance.

“So, you finally put him out of his misery? It was the best for all involved.” One of the men said with a mix of relief and doubt.

“No.” Catherine shook her head calmly with a smile that would never disappear. “In fact, this morning the young man made a full recovery. He is unaware of the world and doesn't know any language, but deep in his eyes, I can see an intelligence surpassing that of his fellow brothers and sisters.”

The Captain didn't show any particular reaction. He'd never met any children that were of no interest to him. On the other hand, the two men to his side couldn't hold back some gasps of astonishment.

“I hope you are not lying, Catherine. This would be a petty way to prolong the boy's life.”

“If she says he has recovered, then he has.” The Captain suddenly spoke up and glared fiercely at the men. “Don't accuse her of lying. Or else, I'll make you regret the next time you spout such foolish words.”

The two men quickly nailed their mouths shut, not daring to test the Captain's patience.

“We received him about fifteen years ago. He was still an infant back then.” Catherine continued after giving the Captain a small nod of thanks.

“While growing up, there was barely any reaction from him, and even I had to admit that there was little hope for him. Nevertheless, I'd never give up on the blessed children of Al'ir. The Benevolent has responded to our sincere prayers. Thus I hope you will listen to my small request.”

Mother Catherine looked at the Captain with a pleading gaze. The latter was at a lost and awkwardly refused to meet her gaze. He knew where this was going...

“...” The captain fumbled for words, trying to find the right ones. On the one hand, this was a waste of his time, but it was difficult for him to refuse Catherine.

“Sometimes you can be very cruel, Catherine. You know I can't do much, but you still insist on your plea. On account of our close relationship and cooperation, I will see what I can do when I return. But if I were you, I wouldn't hope for much. You know it's too late for him to practice any form of Magecraft. And that's disregarding whether he even has the talent for it. I can see you are quite fond of him for some reason... No, excuse me, you are fond of every child, I know. But sending him to the military like this... You nor I would want that. Therefore, there is only one other choice. 'Sigh'... For now, let me see the other children.”

Catherine didn't refute his point and led the Captain to the hall. Everything he'd said was sound and logical, leaving no room for her to argue. She knew the answer beforehand, but she'd still try any chance she could get. Yet, Michael's situation left her somewhat powerless. She could only raise him until he was eighteen, and after that, he had to go. If he hadn't recovered, it would have meant his death, and even now, there weren't many options. After all, how much could a child learn in three years that made him useful to the Empire? The world wasn't in a state where people had enough time to care for the disabled or the useless. She knew all of that. But she really wanted Michael to be safe. Ironically, the military would have been the best option. Alas, she could only try to raise him into a mentally functioning adult. That was already the best she could hope for him.