The fire crackled comfortingly in the hearth, casting a pleasant, dancing warmth throughout the otherwise sparse room. My head fell heavily onto the simple pillow, and the piece of paper in my hand—Rockford’s letter—fluttered from my grasp to the floor.

  Without Lord Rockford, I certainly wouldn't be sitting here in this relative comfort. Why I was receiving this special treatment was still uncertain to me. Maybe it was out of pity, maybe it was standard procedure. But knowing the reason wouldn’t change my situation. Since I was here anyway, I might as well use the time more productively.

  Everything had been so hectic and chaotic since my arrival in this world. The time with the Ainsworths was thankfully behind me, and now my actual home was the orphanage, where I had spent a grand total of… three weeks, I think? I actually felt comfortable there, but Grimelda's unfathomable hatred and Pip's current state had put a stop to that for the time being. As a result, I had been temporarily living in Mantris's cellar to search for Pip.

  But now that Pip had been found, there was no reason to sleep there anymore.

  But that led me to a gigantic problem. What now? At the orphanage, I had to fear for my life, even if Verity had assured me that I no longer needed to worry about Grimelda. I wouldn't be happy in Mantris's shop—or rather, his cellar—in the long run, even though I definitely had a better chance of coming across a Phoenix Ember Root there to heal Pip.

  It was still questionable whether the root even existed. Lady Elara had said they could maintain Pip's condition indefinitely, but I wouldn't risk that. That kind of long-term magical care certainly wouldn't be free.

  Sighing, I rubbed my tired eyes.

  Only three possibilities came to mind to increase my chances of ever getting a Phoenix Ember Root. First: I become an adventurer and travel the world, searching for it myself. Second: I become incredibly rich, offer a huge reward for it, and send adventurers to all corners of the earth to search for it. Third: I work for someone incredibly rich for whom my skills are indispensable, who could then offer a reward and dispatch adventurers.

  But what skills would those be? Hahaha. It feels like a hopeless situation.

  With Pip by my side, healthy and whole, I might have had the courage to become an adventurer. But I was neither old enough nor strong enough to go it alone, so that didn't make much sense. I had briefly considered joining the Arcane Sanctum just to get access to their massive library, but if even someone like Lady Elara had only read about it in ancient texts? Yeah… that didn't sound very promising.

  My thoughts drifted. Phoenix Ember Root. Where could one find it? Was 'Phoenix' in the name because of its alleged resurrection effect, or could it only be found near an actual Phoenix? In the literature of my old world, the phoenix was a legendary, mythical creature. Surely, they would have been hunted to extinction if they existed, or they were simply unbelievably rare. Human greed knows no bounds and would destroy anything to make a profit. But I couldn't assume the worst, otherwise things would look very bleak for Pip.

  Sighing, I shook my head. Maybe I should start smaller. Since I was too young for the adventurer's life and too poor to afford sending people to all corners of the world, perhaps I should start with research. And I knew exactly who I would seek out for that… once I finally got out of here.

  That brought me back to the fact that I could be using this time more productively. Gravity magic was super interesting, but I couldn't think of any new exercises right now other than making the stone heavier and lighter. I also didn't want to risk destroying the room. So, what other skill could I improve? I scratched my chin thoughtfully. It wasn't so easy to remember how good I was at each skill. I knew I wasn't as good with Air Magic as with Fire Magic, bu—

  I facepalmed, hard. My god, Grim, you’re an idiot. You have a blessing to help you find your way in the world, and you don't even use it properly. But how did it work again…? Oh, right.

  Not wanting to appear ungrateful and hoping to avoid any potential divine wrath, I murmured quietly, “Status…”

  =========================

  Name: Grim

  Misc:

  Soulbound: Pip

  Blessing: Echo of Life

  Blessing: Voidseeker's Gaze

  -------------------------------------------------

  [Skills] - [[Status]] - [Spells]

  =========================

  A shiver ran down my spine as the information flooded my consciousness. It was a strange feeling to see… or was it feel?… this interface. Only now did I realize how much the chaos of the last few weeks had consumed my attention. I hadn't really studied or even questioned the gifts I'd been given. This Status Window, for example. Was it just a way to organize my own capabilities, or something more?

  Curious, I whispered, “Skills…” and a list of my abilities streamed into my mind.

  =========================

  Skill: Air Magic (Beginner)

  Skill: Appraisal (Beginner)

  Skill: Fire Magic (Adept)

  Skill: Gravity Magic (Beginner)

  Skill: Mana Manipulation (Adept)

  Skill: Survival (Adept)

  Skill: Unarmed Combat (Adept)

  Skill: Water Magic (Beginner)

  -------------------------

  [[Skills]] - [Status] - [Spells]

  =========================

  Concentrating, I mentally processed the list. Adept was the highest rank of any of my skills, and it was clear I still had an immense amount to learn. It reminded me of training with Corbin; he always encouraged me to think for myself, but when I got stuck, he always gave me a hint. Although I had managed to improve on my own, it had taken a lot of time and willpower.

  Somehow, I missed Corbin and his lessons. He didn't have a stick up his ass, he thought Lord Ainsworth was just as much of a shithead as I did, and all in all, he was a very relaxed and funny guy. The thought reminded me of the moment I learned my first unique spell in the Ainsworths' cellar. I wonder what Corbin would have said if he had seen it.

  Sighing, I pushed it all away but stayed on the theme: spells. So, I murmured, “Spells…”

  =========================

  Spell: Duality (Beginner)

  Spell: Roaring Flames (Beginner)

  Spell: Sprinkle (Inferior)

  -------------------------------------------------

  [Skills] - [Status] - [[Spells]]

  =========================

  Seeing the three spells, I wondered what actually constituted a spell. I could summon a simple flame or a water sphere, but those weren't registered as ‘Spells’. Sure, Duality was registered through Ithrak’s Blessing, but what was the trigger that made my own creations register? Was it my subconscious deciding a spell was 'complete', or was it the Echo of Life?

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  I shook my head in annoyance. This interface was certainly a help, giving me a rough reference for my current state of development, but without an instruction manual, it was also somewhat confusing.

  I willed the information to disappear and stared at the ceiling again. Currently, I had two attack spells and one utility spell. If I wanted to save Pip, I had to decide what to focus on. If I planned to become an adventurer, spells for watering fields wouldn't be much help. On the other hand, could I earn money with these utility spells? There were certainly enough mages in Aegis; would a farmer really pay good money for me to water his field? I didn't think so.

  It was unlikely that I, a seemingly weak 12-year-old, could find a legendary plant as an adventurer or earn enough money for others to search for it. And due to the circumstances of my first life, I didn't have the knowledge to trigger any groundbreaking scientific breakthroughs.

  Sighing, I rubbed my face. How am I supposed to proceed? What if I can't pay for the damages? How much will it cost to have Pip cared for? This uncertainty worried me greatly. First of all, I should probably go to Mantris. I earned good money as an Appraiser, and I couldn't afford to lose that income now, even if the work was dull.

  Ten thousand thoughts swirled in my head, but none of them were helping me right now. I was honestly overwhelmed and at a loss. In any case, I had to get out of here first.

  Slowly but surely, exhaustion began to overpower me.

  I couldn't estimate how long it had been since the incident in the slums, but it was certainly longer than a day. In that time, I hadn't only learned to handle my Gravity magic better, but I also hadn't slept a single minute. My eyes grew heavier and heavier as my body began to demand what it urgently needed: rest and recovery. As much as I wanted to fight against it, I couldn't. I gave in, and my consciousness slipped away.

  A soft click tore me from my sleep.

  My eyes shot open, and I looked around in a panic. My head wasn't yet capable of processing anything; my eyes were sticky, and my vision was blurry. I blinked the blurriness away and saw him. The tall Archmage of this country.

  Still a bit groggy, I managed to push myself up and bowed my head. “L-Lord Rockford. Please excuse me, I wasn't expecting you so early,” I explained, a little taken aback.

  When I straightened up again, I saw that the Archmage was looking at me with some confusion. “So early? There was a small emergency, and therefore I couldn't arrange it sooner, but… it has already been a week since we last saw each other.”

  A week?! I felt like I had just laid down to sleep five minutes ago. Now it was my turn to look confused. “A-a week? Forgive my confusion, but are you sure? I just laid down to sleep five minutes ago. And then you came in,” I explained, still dazed and thoroughly bewildered.

  When Lord Rockford heard that, he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Either you have slept for a week, which would not be unlikely given your immense exertion, or you haven't slept for a week because you are…” and suddenly his gaze became distant, lost in thought. It took a moment before he murmured, “…in a state of shock…”

  Confused, I blinked at the man. Had I heard that right? I had either slept through a whole week or not slept for a week, even though it only felt like a day to me? A shiver ran down my spine. Both thoughts were creepy, but after what happened in the slums, neither was so far-fetched. Sighing, I rubbed my face. I could only hope that Lord Rockford was bringing at least some halfway decent news.

  The great mage was just opening his mouth to speak when he was interrupted by a knock on the door. With a furrowed brow, he turned and opened it. “Ah, there you are. I hope you have goo–”

  “Where is he?” a familiar voice cut him off, sharp and demanding.

  The Archmage stepped back, startled, as a figure brushed past him into the room. A woman dressed in light, earth-colored robes that swirled around her ankles. A circle was tattooed on her forehead, dark against her skin, and her eyes… her eyes were wide, glowing with a fierce, golden light that seemed to pierce right through me.

  Verity.

  Ashamed, I looked down at the floor. Of course, she had been informed. I began to tremble all over and tried with all my might to hold back my tears, but I was too weak. Even though I hadn't known this woman for long, she had taken Pip and me into her home and cared for us. She was my family now, and I had surely disappointed her bitterly.

  I let out a heavy, shaky breath and said with a trembling voice, “I… I’m so incredibly sorry. I-I am so deeply ashamed of what I’ve done…”

  No reply came.

  Slowly, cautiously, I looked up through the veil of my tears and saw that Verity was walking across the room towards me. I knew what was coming. Instinctively, with a trembling face, I closed my eyes, flinched, and waited for the slap… that didn't come.

  Confused, I opened my eyes, the tears now flowing freely down my cheeks. Verity stood before me, her glowing golden eyes flickering faintly, her lips trembling as she stammered, “Y-you thought… y-you thought I would hit you…?”

  Before I could say anything in response, I began to cry and sob like a little boy as memories from my past life came flooding back, unbidden and overwhelming.

  It was that fateful day. A cold winter evening, the snow piling up against the glass. I was tucked tightly in bed, warm and safe, as Pip kneaded the blanket gently by my feet. My parents sat on the edge of the bed, my father’s voice low and rumbling as he told me stories from his youth, recounting mischief to impress my mother, who laughed softly beside him. It was a perfect end to the day. They leaned in, giving me and Pip a goodnight kiss, their love a tangible thing. My father reached for the lamp to turn off the light—

  CRASH!

  The sound of shattering glass tore through the peace. A window had been smashed in.

  Panicked, my father looked at my mother, his face draining of color. “Get the boy out of here! GO!” he shouted, his voice cracking with fear. He didn't wait for an answer, rushing out of the room to face whatever nightmare had entered our home.

  My mother moved instantly, hectically pulling me out of bed, dragging me across the floor to the window. Her hands were shaking so violently she fumbled with the latch. From somewhere came the terrifying, booming sound of gunshots. BANG. BANG.

  My mother let out a choked sob, finally managing to throw the window open to the biting cold air. She lifted me out, my bare feet hitting the freezing snow on the porch roof. Suddenly, she pressed Pip into my trembling hands and screamed, her eyes wide with terror, “RUN!”

  Scared out of my mind, I stumbled through the deep snow, slipping and sliding, but my steps slowed. I couldn't leave them. I was just about to turn around, to look for my mother, but then I heard her scream one last time, a sound of pure desperation, “RUN AND DON'T LOOK BACK!”

  And then—silence. Followed by two more shots.

  After that, my memories blurred into a haze of cold and fear.

  There was a huge gap, and my next memories were of Pip and me being brought to an orphanage. I didn't know what had happened to my parents, and no one would tell me. I often cried and begged for answers, but the only answer I ever got was, “Shut your trap…” The head of the orphanage hissed, and then she slapped me. Again and again, I would flinch as the pain in my cheek flared up. But one day… we fled, when she threatened to have Pip put down if I didn't obey.

  The memories faded. Now I was twelve years old again and waiting to be hit… because I didn't function as desired.

  I was so broken, so tired, so shattered. I cried out in pain, wishing it would finally fade, as Verity looked at me with those strict but kind eyes. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes and ran silently down her cheeks.

  Cautiously, she stepped closer and gently pulled me into her arms.

  It wasn't just a hug. It was a shelter. For a long time, she stroked my head, rocking me gently back and forth. The warmth of her body, the gentle rhythm of her hand in my hair... it felt like a ghost, a phantom sensation I hadn't allowed myself to feel in twenty years. It felt like the comforting embrace of a mother I had lost a lifetime ago. A sob tore itself from my throat, raw and agonizing, as I buried my face in her robes, clinging to her as if she were the only solid thing in a dissolving world.

  And through the haze of my grief, I quietly heard her voice, thick with her own tears.

  “I’m so sorry that I failed you… that I couldn't be there for you… Survivor of Sorrow…”