The moment we passed through the city gates, I felt it.
The air changed.
It was cleaner, sharper, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine instead of stone and iron. The rhythmic clatter of hooves against cobblestone softened into the muted crunch of dirt beneath the carriage wheels. Trees rose tall and dense on either side of the road, their leaves whispering secrets I didn't understand yet.
We were outside the walls.
I pressed my small face closer to the carriage window, eyes wide, absorbing everything. This world was… quieter. Less crowded. Less advanced.
No paved roads stretch endlessly. No machines humming in the distance. No lights, no wires, no screens. Just wood, stone, leather, steel, and people who moved as if the land itself demanded respect.
This really isn't my world anymore.
In my old life, even the poorest areas buzzed with signs of progress. Here, progress felt slower, heavier, more deliberate. And yet… There was something alive in the air. Something that made the hairs on my arms prickle.
Melinda noticed.
She always did.
- You like it, don't you?- she said softly, adjusting me in her arms so I could see more. - The forest has a way of speaking to those who listen.-
I didn't understand the words the way a child should, but I understood the feeling. My gaze lingered on the way sunlight filtered through the branches, bending unnaturally, almost… responding.
Then I felt it.
A pressure. Gentle, warm, and humming beneath my skin.
Magic.
Not theory. Not imagination. Not stories.
Real.
Melinda lifted one hand, palm upward. Light gathered there not blinding, not violent, but soft, like fireflies caught in a breeze. Threads of pale energy danced around her fingers, weaving into delicate patterns.
My breath caught.
This wasn't like anything I had seen before. Even knowing magic existed hadn't prepared me for how natural it felt here. As if the world itself allowed it willingly.
Her eyes widened slightly when she noticed my reaction.
- Oh?- she murmured, amused. - You can feel it already?-
She smiled, genuinely pleased.
- You might become a mage someday, Richard,- she said warmly. - Would you like that? Studying magic, shaping the world with your own hands?-
My heart skipped.
A mage.
Choice. Power. Expression.
Before I could lose myself in the thought, a quiet scoff came from across the carriage.
- Hmph.-
Patrick.
He didn't look displeased, just… competitive.
- Mages are fine,- he said, resting one arm against the carriage frame. - But once he grows up, he'll see how much cooler knights are. Steel, discipline, and strength are earned through effort.-
Melinda laughed. - Oh? And how many knights can reshape the battlefield without lifting a blade?-
Patrick smirked. - How many mages can stand their ground when magic fails?-
They began bickering lightly, voices playful, teasing, alive. No anger. No sharp edges. Just two people imagining futures for their child.
And yet…
My chest tightened.
Futures.
Expectations.
The laughter faded into something distant as my thoughts spiraled.
Is this how it starts?
They didn't mean harm. I knew that. But neither had my old parents, at least not at first. Dreams turned into plans. Plans turned into pressure. Pressure turned into cages.
Will you choose me too?
I curled my fingers into Melinda's clothes unconsciously.
She didn't notice.
Patrick suddenly raised a hand.
- Stop.-
The carriage slowed.
Silence fell heavy and immediate.
Patrick's posture shifted, relaxed warmth replaced by something sharp and dangerous. His hand moved to the hilt of his sword.
- Melinda,- he said calmly, - watch him.-
He stepped down from the carriage, leaving the door open.
The forest went still.
Then
A shadow passed overhead.
The world seemed to breathe.
I looked up just in time to see it.
Massive. Scaled. Wings stretching wider than the treetops. Its body moved through the sky as it belonged there, as gravity itself bent to its will.
A dragon.
Not a spell. Not a trick.
A living, flying impossibility.
It was gone in seconds, disappearing beyond the canopy.
But those seconds were enough.
Enough for something deep inside me to finally shatter.
This wasn't just another world.
This was a world where gods, monsters, magic, and fate walked openly beneath the sky.
I wasn't Emmanuel anymore.
I wasn't even just Richard Ayer.
I was something newsomething reborn into a reality far larger, far crueler, and far more wondrous than anything I had ever known.
And for the first time since my death…
I felt small.