We were outside! I could see the world! Well, not much of it if you're wondering. Our house was surrounded by trees—kind of an out-of-the-way place, as expected. Not too far out, but enough for privacy. A good, romantic place for a young couple, I guess? Not a romance expert.

  "Cato seems very happy!" my mom said while holding me. "He can't stop turning around!"

  Oh yeah, I forgot to mention—Cato is my new name. No family name. Well, that wasn't a big problem. Cato was nice enough. Too bad for my mom that I didn't yet feel like talking, or I'd praise her on the name choice.

  "What's new about that? The little thing never stays still if his eyes are open. With how much he rushed to the door, it's no surprise." My dad answered, sounding a tad too tired of my shenanigans. Sorry, Dad, but I bet you'd move like your ass was on fire too if you found yourself in a baby body in an entirely new world. Forgive me and endure. I'll make your life easier in the future if you'll allow it.

  We walked down a narrow yet well-maintained path between thick bushes and trees. The ground was covered in a blanket of leaves. Each step of my parents was accompanied by the rustle of leaves and the smell of damp earth, all seamlessly mixed with the sound of birds singing and distant clangs that sounded like bell chimes.

  From the clearing where our house sat, it took about seven minutes to reach the rest of the settlement. The scent of pine hung thick in the air, mixing with woodsmoke from morning fires. It wasn't a big place by any means—perhaps thirty houses in total, at least here. I could see cultivated fields outside on both sides of the road. Perhaps more houses were scattered out there. I had no way of knowing yet.

  The small path joined a stony dirt road. It looked like someone had wanted to cover it with small stones but then ran out, so they'd spread them thin. Looking at how deeply lodged in the soil they were and how even the ground was, I figured the stones had sunken and been covered by a layer of dirt. A testament to the use the road saw and the many winters it had witnessed.

  What caught my attention, though, were the smaller stone paths branching off toward each house. Unlike the main road, these were swept clean, the stones visible and neatly arranged. Someone—probably the housewives—took care to maintain them. The contrast was telling. People here lived well enough to care about appearances and cleanliness around their homes, but wouldn't bother placing the same effort into the communal road everyone trampled.

  There was nothing special about the houses of the village, unlike what I'd expected. They were all similarly made of wood and showed signs of renovations. New pieces of wood were mixed with old ones, giving the place a very rustic look. It was a powerful call to reality. This wasn't just some forgotten place. The humans here were real, each with their own troubles and happiness. In comparison, my problems until now—even those of my past life—couldn't compare.

  My peace and time for thoughts didn't last long. Soon many housewives gathered around. Probably this moment was something planned. Perhaps a tradition? Younger children were perhaps not introduced because they had a low chance of surviving. A grim reality.

  "Linnea, your little critter takes after his father. You must be disappointed," one of the older ones said.

  "I was at first," my mother admitted with a laugh, shifting me in her arms. "Nine months of waiting, with several hours of agonizing pain, and he comes out with his father's stubborn brow. But I'm hoping he inherits my smile. At least this one seems to know what to do with it, unlike that sourpuss I married. He even looks wise at times."

  "Really? Then give him here so we can see him better! What are you waiting for?" the same woman said. She seemed to be the wife of the village chief, or at the very least someone at the core of the housewives' hierarchy.

  Anyway, I took her words as a threat. I was about to be manhandled by a bunch of old women—how could I be happy? I looked at my mom with a look of horror, clinging harder and trying to convey my unwillingness. Unfortunately, my mom was blind to my efforts and had far crueler plans for me. What could I do? I was doomed!

  "No problem, Eld-Mother Edith. As per the tradition, you are to be the first to hold him now. Of course, no need to be so impatient." She held me out to the woman. Edith, she called her. Bah, Edith, Medith, same thing. My torture begins!

  Of course, my father soon left for his work, and I was left to be touched, caressed, stared at, spun, and checked by each one of the women. Each one seemed to check me for a physical problem they'd decided upon first, and all were happily passing me around, seemingly not finding any problems. I was grateful for the checkup, but having so many people around was exhausting. That's not even considering that any hope for privacy was shattered. How was I supposed to face these women when I got a bit older, knowing they'd literally seen everything?

  After the thorough inspection by the elderly—checking for clubfoot, cleft palate, strange growths, anything that might signal disease or deformity—some younger women and girls got to hold me while the adults started the usual exchange of daily necessities. In a place like this, such things probably meant a hard life or an early death. I'd apparently passed with flying colors.

  What can I say? My mom abandoned me! I became the plaything of these fair-skinned devils! Heeeelp!

  All jokes aside, the girls were actually careful and gentle—I had to give them that. But in the harsh economy of the village, it seemed I'd become a currency to be exchanged for goodwill. The girls tried to make me laugh. Too bad I was as sour as my father. After the embarrassment from earlier, there was no way I'd be in the mood for cheap laughs at funny faces.

  But I had to say, it was weird how well the people here looked. At least by my standards, they were definitely more beautiful than what I was used to in my past life. One girl in particular caught my attention—not for any romantic reason, but because she was so strikingly put-together for what I assumed was a peasant village. She looked about fourteen, with thick auburn hair that caught the light like polished wood. Her skin was clear and smooth, without the pockmarks or blemishes I'd have expected from medieval hygiene. She had a heart-shaped face with high cheekbones and bright, curious eyes that kept darting to me as she talked with the other girls. When she smiled—trying to coax a laugh out of me with exaggerated expressions—her whole face transformed, animated and warm.

  She was very proactive in trying to get me to crack, making increasingly ridiculous faces. Her thin lips pressed into pouts, stretched into grins, twisted into mock-angry scowls. It would've been funny if I weren't still mortified from the earlier inspection.

  Anyway, she wasn't the only one. The others were similarly well-formed, with very few imperfections and seamless smiles. The boys weren't far off either, but their features tended to be more rigid or sharper. I saw some standing further away, probably knowing that when so many women gathered, getting close was only going to make for a good source of humiliation later.

  Still, I had no idea what I was supposed to do. I still didn't want to start speaking since I couldn't perfectly pronounce words and formulate sentences. By now I'd also realized that there were no books around to learn reading from, and I doubted I'd have an easy time learning by matching words with inscriptions on paper. Besides, I wasn't even sure that anyone here knew how to read.

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  Back in my world, teaching was organized around the church. Here didn't seem to be any such thing, and while I was happy I didn't have to feign belief, I was really out of ideas for how I'd be able to come in contact with the knowledge I needed. Not to be rude, but this backwater place didn't seem like it had anyone capable of instructing me on the use of this new energy that I'd call aether for the sound of it.

  Now, the absence of a teacher wouldn't really be a problem, honestly. Some small experiments driven by boredom told me that this aether could nourish and strengthen living beings but would not affect the core functions of the body.

  Now that I thought about it, perhaps it was due to aether that the people here looked better. Its constant flow removed and fixed the minor problems in bone and skin structure that would cause exaggerated features or asymmetries. Perhaps that meant the younger I started working with aether, the more benefits I'd have?

  I'd seen stuff like this described in my past life, and even Taoist meditation contained techniques for this, however those were more of a side effect that came with life-prolonging practices.

  But what about emotions? I wondered if here emotions were more potent and contagious as a result as well. After all, aether readily answered my will. Did that mean that if I was happy, others around me would get that sense of happiness conveyed through aether and be put in a better mood too?

  The thought gnawed at me as I sat on the bench, surrounded by chattering girls. The auburn-haired one was still making faces at me, but the others had started talking among themselves—comparing gossip, laughing about something one of the boys had said earlier. The atmosphere felt light, easy.

  I decided to test something. Carefully, I closed my eyes for just a moment and focused inward, reaching for a feeling of contentment—the warm satisfaction I got when I successfully moved aether during meditation. I let it pool in my chest, then gently tried to let it seep outward, the way aether naturally wanted to flow.

  When I opened my eyes, I looked around.

  Had the laughter gotten... warmer? The auburn-haired girl had stopped making faces and was just smiling at me now, soft and genuine instead of performative. Two of the other girls had leaned closer to each other, their conversation quieter but more animated. One of them touched the other's arm affectionately.

  But maybe that was just natural conversation flow. Maybe I was seeing patterns that weren't there.

  I let the feeling drop, pulling back into myself. The girls kept talking, kept laughing. Nothing dramatic changed. But after a moment, the auburn-haired girl's smile faded slightly, and she tilted her head at me with a confused expression, as if she'd forgotten what she was doing. Then she shook her head and went back to making silly faces.

  Interesting. Maybe? Or maybe she just got bored of smiling.

  I couldn't tell for certain. Too many variables. Too few data points. But the possibility was there—that emotions might spread through aether, especially in groups. If true, that would explain a lot about how communities functioned here. How moods could shift like weather through a crowd.

  Incredibly useful if true. And probably incredibly dangerous.

  I'd need to test this more carefully later, somewhere I could control for other factors. For now, it was just a hypothesis. An intriguing one, but unproven.

  The girls were all looking at me strangely now while I sat on the bench, probably because I'd gone still and focused for that moment. What? Was I that weird? Oh well, get used to it because I'm not changing! Anyway, I grew used and resigned to my fate of being at the center of attention here.

  Soon my mom came back and picked me up to go home. Finally! I escaped! I'm saved! But I won't forgive you, traitor! I was happy for a bit, then threw an ugly glare at my mother. Seeing me like that, she only burst out laughing. Damn it! No matter what I do, it'll be funny since I'm just her cute baby to her! Ha... whatever. Let's just get home faster.

  Wait. If I think like this, I'll grow into a shut-in. Should I consider an office job then? Are there offices in this world?

  On the way back, my mom would not stop asking me stuff as if she expected me to answer.

  "Did you like our little village? Are you happy now that you went out? Were the girls nice to you?"

  I wanted to answer. I wanted to tell her yes, I liked seeing other people, yes the village was interesting, yes I'd noticed how the stone paths to each house were swept clean while the main road was left to the weather. I wanted to ask about the bell sounds in the distance and what the girls had been chattering about. I wanted to tell her that being manhandled by elder women was mortifying but I understood it was necessary.

  But all I could do was make a soft sound in my throat and look at her. The gap between what I understood and what I could express felt like a chasm. This body was a cage in more ways than one.

  What was I supposed to do? How shocked would she be if I suddenly talked and answered her?

  Anyway, we got home and I was put down on the floor while Mom went back out, probably to get whatever it was she'd exchanged for. I crawled to a corner and started meditating. I was still very suspicious of the effects aether had on the body and its interactions with the rest of the vital energies, but that didn't stop me from simply consolidating my inner vision.

  I closed my eyes and sank my mind inward. By now I could hold both lower and middle dan tians in awareness without losing track. The meridian network sprawled between them—about 72,000 channels in total according to traditional texts, though the actual structure differed from person to person. Complete mastery would take a lifetime: not just charting every channel, but maintaining awareness of each one even while walking or drinking.

  But that level of achievement wasn't necessary for my goals. The hard part here was that aether flooded my senses, drowning out the subtle energetic forms I was trying to perceive. I had to still myself completely to avoid creating noise, and simultaneously still the aether within to stop it from blinding me to the qi and jing I actually needed to observe.

  Anyway, soon my mom was back and started preparing food. Up till now I was still breastfed, which in the minds of many men would be bliss, I think. But I assure you that only degenerates would enjoy this. It was humiliating and felt like I was intruding. I was a damn adult in a child's body, so there was nothing I could do, but I really did not enjoy this situation. It was demeaning.

  Luckily, it all ended today. From what I understood, I'd be eating cooked food from now on! About damn time. Weren't babies supposed to eat solid food at four months old? You sure took your sweet time holding it back till six.

  Later my father returned from his work, which was unusual. I thought Mom was going to go and bring him food, but it seemed not today. Then both my father and mother came to me with serious expressions. My father laid down four things in a careful line: a small cane, a feather, a wooden sword, and a small wooden harvesting scythe.

  I looked at those things, confused. I was expecting my parents to say something or do something to make me understand what they wanted, but nothing came. Only expectant gazes. Waiting.

  I started thinking rapidly. After a while, an idea popped up. Was this one of those traditions where the first thing a baby picks determines their future path? I'd heard of such things in my past life—folk customs about destiny and choice.

  I crawled forward and sat on my butt, studying the objects more carefully. The sword was obvious enough—some kind of warrior or guard path. The scythe clearly meant farming, and I definitely didn't want to be locked into that life. But the cane? The feather? Without context, I couldn't guess their meanings.

  But I was someone who wanted to learn as much as possible. Why limit myself?

  I reached forward and carefully gathered the sword, cane, and feather into my lap, leaving only the scythe untouched.

  My parents stared at me, frozen. Then I saw it—Rhys's eyes flicked to the scythe lying alone on the floor, and something in his expression shifted. Not disappointment exactly, but maybe... resignation? Hope fading? His shoulders sagged slightly, and he glanced at Linnea.

  She looked between me and the objects, then at Rhys, and a wry smile crossed her face. "Well," she said, "at least we know he's ambitious."

  Rhys let out a long breath, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. He reached down and ruffled my hair. "That's one way to do it, little one. I suppose we'll see what the gods make of your choice."

  What choice? What do these mean? Come on, give me a hint!

  But they just exchanged another look—one of those parent conversations that happened without words—and began putting the objects away. I sat there, frustration mounting. Had I just made some kind of declaration without knowing what I'd declared?

  The scythe was the last thing Rhys picked up. He held it for a moment, turning it over in his calloused hands, before tucking it away with the others.

  Whatever I'd just done, it mattered. I could feel it in the weight of their silence.

  ?? November 2025 Writathon Winner

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  LitRPG Progression Portal Fantasy Summoning

  DENIED BY SYSTEM - HE SUMMONS HIS OWN

  The System rejected him. The World took his wife. And now, his daughter...

  Sasaki Jin must master a forbidden power to ensure his child doesn't share her mother's fate. He will tear down the gods themselves to keep her safe.

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  Inspired by Solo Leveling & Pokemon...

  ? Competent MC: Street smart, ingenuity over luck.

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