The dark-skinned woman, apparently named Elise, wore a tired smile, but it radiated warmth. It soothed me. Was this some part of the dream state, I wondered. When I tried to speak, no words formed, and the resulting frustration or any intense emotion caused tears to well. My mind knew how to do the things I wanted to, but this body… Any attempts I made at moving or talking were transformed into the best this small sack of meager bones and flesh could muster. Which wasn't much, considering.
For an instant, I caught myself drifting back to the scene with Murphy and Melrez. But when I tried to parse through the memory, my face twisted into a sour expression. I began to whine again.
"I know, Cercie, but Dean still isn't back yet." Elise said, speaking to the older woman. She rocked her arm gently to console me.
The shadows danced on the ivory sheets of the canopy bed. White and red-colored curtains draped from the tester. Held up by rustic cherry-colored wood with floral carvings. Six gas lamps placed evenly along the four walls lit the room. The large, unblemished stone walls had weapons hung decoratively. It reminded me of an Arthurian castle if they existed in the Victorian era. A stool and a wooden bucket half filled with water sat by the bed.
I observed the room slowly. Taking my time to adjust and assess all the new sensations and sights around me. Keeping my thoughts under control so I don't start crying again. Where once I could have taken everything in with a quick glance, it now felt like I was trying to pour water from a massive basin into a shallow cup. Too much too quickly, and I was easily overwhelmed. Two other women were in the room. The older robed woman, Cercie, and another lady dressed in a collared black gown with a white apron over top. She must be a midwife or nurse, maybe. Only a few moments had passed, but it felt like ages.
"If they get here before Dean, what are you going to do?" Cercie asked, her eyebrows knit with genuine concern. Elise lifted her free arm and motioned towards the stool.
"We'll be fine." She said. Cercie made her way to the stool. "We need to have faith that what we have already done is enough." Elise grabbed Cercie's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
Was I just reincarnated? Reincarnated into another tense situation at that. Who exactly was the they that she was talking about? Cercie's mouth opened but before she could speak the door pushed open.
A breeze swept through the room. A man walked in. He appeared to be in his early thirties. He was handsome and tall, with pale skin and a muscular build. Unkempt wheat hair fell just past his shoulders. A leather necklace with an emerald jewel carved into a diamond hung under the stubble that peppered his chin. He wore a long-sleeved beige tunic with dark brown pants tucked into mud-stained boots. And a black and silver sword hung off the side of his leather belt.
However, the most interesting thing was the way he moved. Such grace and control. Every step showcased the command he had over his form. He moved towards us, barely acknowledging me. He glanced quickly at Cercie on the stool, who flashed him a heavy smile. He nodded in return, crouching down and rubbing Elise's arm.
"Elise, how do you feel? Are you ok?" He asked, his rugged voice hit my ears like sandpaper. Although not necessarily in a bad way.
"I'm fine, Dean," She said, expressionless.
"Looks like I missed all the action," Dean said, his lips twitching upwards into a cheeky smile.
"Oh, you noticed?" Elise said, feigning surprise. She lowered the arm she held me in. Angling me at him. "Meet your son, you vagrant."
His hazel eyes widened when they met mine. "My… son," he mouthed in amazement. I could see the gears turning in his head. His hand fell from Elise's arm, gently rustling through the few strands of hair I had. "Hey, kid." His smile was so wide his eyes shut.
My arms lifted. Grabbing at his callused hand. Finally! Movement! Now, I had a sensation to work with. Being in this body felt like someone handed me a new controller with entirely different inputs than my last. Raising my arms was like hitting the button that matched my intentions for the first time.
"What should we name him?" Dean asked, He kissed Elise's forehead on the way up from his squat.
Elise's eyes moved from Dean to me. She wore a sentimental expression. "Canaan," She said. "Canaan Alcroft." So these are.. my parents?
"Just curious," Cercie cut in. "Did you notice your mother sitting behind you? Or Now that you have a family I'm no longer important enough to greet?" She said playfully. Still frowning with mocked disappointment.
Dean spun around with a nervous urgency. He stretched his arms out, but before he could lean in, Cercie put her hand out and shook her head. The smile left her face. "I wish we all had more time, but you need to get out of here." Elise's arm tightened around me at Cercie's words. Her face showed conflicting emotions, hard to read. "The King's guard will be here any second. Dean, you're not safe in Grisha right now."
The king's guard? What kind of trouble are these guys in? Observing Dean again, I noticed his ears were normal. I wonder if that had anything to do with what was going on. Elise raised my head pulling me closer to her mouth.
"I'm sorry," she said in a whisper. "We'll give you everything I never had, but your life will be hard." She still wore that pained expression. But quickly hid her emotions and smiled at me again, shifting the covers and swinging her legs off the bed. She gave Cercie and Dean a determined nod. "It's time."
****
His sword split the air. The very atmosphere itself rippled out and away from his blade. I raised mine, preparing to block. The weapons clashed. I bared my teeth like a rabid animal, summoning all the strength in my arms. He waved my blade away. I tightened the grip on my sword and launched a series of quick lunges and swipes. He parried each strike effortlessly. Standing arrogantly with one arm behind his back, he lifted his sword and aimed a concise and powerful slash at me. A loud clack was followed by the splintering of wood when our practice swords met again.
"Focus, Canaan," He said, the force of the blow knocking me on my rump. "The circulation of your mana keeps fluctuating."
I propped myself up on my arms, letting my head fall backward, and let out a tired sigh. "Easy for you to say, Dad," Sweat rolled down my nose and cheeks. "You're not the seven-year-old fighting a sword saint." Not to mention, I'm still getting used to being the size of a fire hydrant.
I paused, realizing it really had been seven years since I arrived in this world. My dad and I moved here to Ettle five years ago. I haven't seen Elise or, I guess, my mother since. I also haven't seen another elf or human with pointy ears.
I assumed it was because of my age, but Dean never said why Elise stayed in Grisha or why we had to leave. When she would come up, his face turned into an uncomfortable grimace. It couldn't have bothered him that much. He took a new wife, and they had a daughter. I grabbed at a clump of grass and let the breeze carry a few blades from between my fingers.
We were outside our house, which was not too far outside the main city of Telenor. The rolling hills were covered by farmland stretching towards the horizon as far as the eye could see. Various kinds of fruit trees and other foliage covered the land. We weren't farmers, Dean just liked the quiet. This world wasn't as advanced as my last, but it had it's charm.
A hand waved in front of my face, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Canaan, get your head out of the clouds," He said, leaning on his sword like a cane. "Remember, be aware of your entire body. How your arm reacts to gravity, the rebound from your weapon when struck. Your shoulders, elbows, wrists, hands, and fingers are separate parts of one fighter. If you're undisciplined with one, the others are affected." He started to walk towards me. "This also applies to your mana control. Don't get overwhelmed by it allow it to flow freely." He grabbed the collar of my tunic and scooped me off the ground. "You've only got a few more years until the military academy. If you want to be ahead of the curve, you'll have to at least be able to reinforce your body and weapon while fighting." I shook my arms and readied my sword in a defensive stance.
Trying to control mana felt like trying to breathe and hold my breath at the same time. Now, throw combat on top of that. Playing a full game of soccer while manually blinking would be easier.
"See if you can block this." He said with a smirk. The grass beneath his feet radiated outwards in waves. A crushing weight began to press down on my shoulders. The hairs on my arm and neck raised as my foot instinctively slid backward. I couldn't seem to catch my breath. Actually, it was more like the pressure he exuded stole the air from my lungs. He flicked his sword. The resulting wave of pressure hurdled toward me. I steeled myself. Closing my eyes and focusing on reinforcing my body and sword with mana.
Apparently, magic was very real in this world. I experienced it first-hand a handful of times. It was different from the movies and TV shows back on Earth. From what I gathered, most people had the ability to manipulate mana's raw form. However, only one in ten manipulators manifested a connection to one of the four main elements earth, water, fire, and air. On rare occasions, their mana would mutate, resulting in a more unique element. Once you show an affinity, you have an alignment ceremony and are promised to Telenor's prestigious magic academy.
The ones unlucky or fortunate enough, depending on how you look at it, not to manifest an affinity had the option of attending the military academy. I didn't know much about the politics here, but I knew it was a kind of honor to go to the magic academy, and it even gave students the ability to change the station of their family. While my father never gained an affinity, it seemed his title as a sword saint was more than enough pull. There were only two other sword saints in the world. Speaking of..
The force from the attack blew my tunic over my head. My vision went dark, causing me to lose my footing. I clenched my jaw and tightened my muscles as best I could, trying to fight the torrent. But even with my mana-reinforced defenses, I still tumbled over. I cursed in my head. Dean laughed while I laid concededly on the ground.
"Did you bring me out here to train me or bully me?" I muttered frustratedly into the grass.
"You should be grateful." He said as he poked my motionless body with his sword. "This is much easier than what I went through with my teacher." I waved his sword away from my side and sat up.
"My turn to play with Canaan, Papa!" A small voice commanded. It was my sister Emry. She marched across the lawn with a fury, her wheat hair the same color as our father's, bounced with each step as her steady march changed into a fierce all-out sprint. She had a round nose and unforgiving eyes.
I stretched my hands out in front of me defensively and gasped. "No, please," I shook my head, feigning fear. She charged into me at full speed. I caught her in my arms and rolled over. I had always wanted a little sister. I put my all into my performance of my fake death. Emry giggled, then got up and tugged at my practice sword.
The peaceful scene was interrupted when a carriage arrived. The dirt crunched under the large wooden wheels. The carriage's body was white with gold vine-like designs around the edges. It was pulled by two white horses. "Lord Alcroft, your presence at the council meeting has been requested by the king."