Magnus
I divided my time between reading about this world and learning the function of mana. I could do nothing to hurry my body's development except eat and sleep. I would sneak into the twins' room when I wasn't in my crib being fed or napping. A couple of times, the twins walked in while I was reading. When that happened, I crawled away, expecting them to catch or scold me. Instead, they would step aside and let me go. Oddly enough, their behavior began to change. Usually, they never left their room, but now they have started taking frequent breaks and returning much later.
During one of my escapes from their room, I dared to look up at their faces. Pain was stamped across their features—both Natalie and Eric looked equally hurt. They were odd. As the oldest, they could have yelled or even hit me for intruding, but they didn't. They only looked wounded, and there was something deeper in their eyes. The parents, of course, knew why, judging from the tense dinners. Initially, I had no intention of getting involved—until Clare cried.
She was putting me to sleep in my room. I pretended to sleep, waiting for her to leave so I could meditate, but for some reason, she didn't go right away. She sat in the chair beside my crib and let out a tired sigh—not the sigh of physical exhaustion, but one born of years of suffering. Her voice was barely a whisper, but its weight made it loud enough for me to hear. Regret and pain laced her words, as if memories were impaling her. She sounded fifty years older than she was.
"Every day it gets harder to see their smiles. As terrible as it sounds, I can't remember their smiling faces. I'm their mother, yet I'm forgetting their smiles. The twins' last smile must have been the morning before we escaped from that house."
Her voice cracked at the end. I could hear the trembling in her lips as she continued.
"Terrible. I'm just terrible."
She broke down in tears. They were silent, but from her panting and sharp breaths, I could hear her crying. I wasn't sure what to do. Part of me wanted to turn around and comfort her. I was about to, when memories of my mother from my first life came to mind. I thought I'd buried those memories forever after the house burned. Maybe it was this baby state that brought them back. I knew I was stupid, but I couldn't turn around. The wounds left by my old family seemed to open up the longer I stayed here and learned about them.
My hand trembled at the memories. I could hear my own heart racing with fear. Small beads of sweat formed on my face. I shouldn't get involved. I have nothing to do with these people. There's a chance they'll be just like my old family. I screamed all these things in my mind, repeating them repeatedly.
"Mama."
The word came out just as my body turned to face Clare. I don't remember deciding to move or speak, yet it happened—driven by some unknown force or emotion, my mind and body betrayed me.
Clare stopped crying. We stared at each other momentarily, unsure of what to do. I bit my lip. For the first time since coming here, I began to build courage.
I outstretched my arms and called out again.
"Mama."
Jumping from her seat, Clare—no, Mom—scooped me up. She held me close and called for Derek. Taking one more leap, the moment Derek arrived, I spoke again.
"Papa."
Both of them—my parents, for the first time in both my lives—embraced me. It was odd, slightly uncomfortable, but mostly warm. Maybe the yearning to feel this embrace, or simple curiosity about what would happen, made me act. I couldn't be sure.
After that night, not much changed—except for two things. First, Mother and Father began teaching me more words. In their eyes, speaking at the age of two meant I was a genius. I played along with their lessons, though they did get boring. Luckily, I was a baby, so they didn't force me to learn. That's where the second change happened. Instead of waiting for the twins to leave their room so I could read, this time I knocked, knowing they were still inside.
Natalie opened the door. Her face was smudged with some black substance. She glanced down at me, surprised. Although it was never stated, Eric, Natalie, and I had some unspoken agreement about when I could come into their room.
I crawled past her, letting myself in. Eric turned around, and when he spotted me, he wore the same surprised expression as Natalie. Their eyes widened in precisely the same way—they truly were twins. Eric walked toward Natalie, who was still at the entrance. Before I could give them time to decide what to do, I pointed to the top of the desk.
"Up."
Both twins looked at each other.
"Up," I repeated.
This time, Natalie moved. She gently picked me up and placed me on their desk. On Natalie's side, a book lay open on the window ledge, surrounded by various machine parts—trinkets, wires, and metal tubes. I had no clue what she was making, but it seemed interesting. On the other side were stacks of paper and scattered research notes. Judging by their length and content, they looked like scientific papers. I smiled; these two couldn't be any more different.
I pointed at Natalie's side of the desk, then at her.
"Nat!"
I figured I'd shorten her name as a gesture of camaraderie, hoping it would help her feel at ease. Thankfully, I think it worked. Nat smiled widely, her eyes glittering like sunlight on water. She nodded furiously, gripping Eric's arm.
Turning to Eric, I pointed to his side of the desk.
"Eric!"
"That's me!" Eric cheered, moving to his seat with a spring in his step and a giant grin. Nat followed, taking her seat. They smiled at me, then pulled out a familiar book.
"Did you come to read again?" Nat asked.
In her hand was a book I'd been working through, Various Magic. It covered the different elements people could wield when using magic. I'd finished most of it, except for the last chapter. The first four chapters were on awakening your mana senses, absorbing mana, and forming the core. The following five chapters—fire, lightning, earth, water, and wind—explained the elements and their subdomains. The last chapter was about special magic, which is not tied to any aspect. The book called them Singularities. Eagerly, I reached for the book. Nat and Eric smiled at me, then returned to their projects. No one spoke. It was a comfortable silence—odd, but neither Nat nor Eric seemed to mind. We continued like this until Eric broke the silence.
"Magnus, can you understand what you're reading?"
I'd wondered if they would ask. I didn't know what was normal here, but a two-year-old reading a chapter book was unheard of back on Earth. Since no one commented, I assumed it was common. Now that Eric was asking, I wondered if it wasn't. Mulling it over, I decided to tell the truth. There was a risk, but I'd cross that bridge when I came to it.
"Yes… some of it," I answered.
Eric smiled rather than looked surprised. He seemed content with that. He closed his book and set aside the papers he was reading. He grabbed the book I was reading and placed it before him. I crawled over to his side of the desk.
"What part don't you understand?" he asked.
This was a golden opportunity. Truthfully, I could make sense of everything written, but fully understanding it would take time. For most of it, I drew on my knowledge from Earth and other books I'd read here. It would take time—time I'd rather not waste. The more I knew about magic, mana, and this world, the better my chances of survival. This time, things would be different. I'd love to see myself grow old.
"Singularities! How can there be non-elemental magic users?"
Eric raised an eyebrow, covering his mouth, but I could see the corners of his lips curl into a smile. He didn't answer directly. Instead, he asked me a question.
"Tell me, Magnus, if that's all you're curious about, then you already have a general grasp of singularities. To put it in the words of someone we know, singularities are seen as rare commodities—tools for war or elevating noble house standings. To most of the world, that's all singularities are. What do you think they are, just from reading a chapter about it?"
It might have been a short question, but I'd just gained a lot of information. The most significant piece was about the social structure here. If there were noble houses, this was a monarchy, with a class system where nobles were treated far better than commoners. The second piece was the importance of singularities. They were rare, meaning people who awakened as singularities were often hunted and captured. Like Eric said, they were commodities—people wanted them, and nobles would pay any price to get one. If I awakened as a singularity, I'd have to be careful with my magic. This was a gold mine of information.
Pushing aside those thoughts, I considered his question. As I thought, a familiar freckled face from my youth came to mind. What was it he used to say? I smiled, remembering.
"They're nothing more than stars in the night sky."
Both Nat and Eric burst out laughing. The pain that had shadowed their eyes began to fade, though a lingering piece remained. Then again, a shadow of nothing can never truly disappear. Watching them smile brought the same warmth I'd felt when Clare—Mom hugged me. The warmth spread through my body, and I couldn't help but smile. That is, until Nat spoke.
"We're just regular stars, huh? That's fucking great! I love it! If only that old man could hear you," Nat shouted joyfully.
I blinked a few times, my smile faltering. I looked between the two, then down at the book. There was no way.
"You two are singularities!"
At my words, both of them stopped laughing and smiled—genuine smiles, their eyes glittering brightly. Nat outstretched her hand, and moments later, a silvery, almost gunmetal-gray liquid hovered above her palm. It was the size of her pinky—until it began to vibrate. A second later, it was no longer a liquid, but a solid—a metal screw. My mouth dropped open as Nat grabbed the screw and poked her finger with it. Small droplets of blood fell from her finger until Eric placed his hand above it. An ethereal green light radiated from his palm. I watched in fascination as Nat's wound closed. It was incredible. Both of them were incredible. Nat could create metal itself—any piece she wanted, any time. She was a natural resource. Eric had healing magic—no explanation needed for how valuable that was. The only question was, how much could he heal? Hypothetically, he could heal an entire army amid a war. These two would have been my highest priority if I were still a king. But I wasn't a king anymore. I was their younger brother.
I smiled at them and clapped.
"Amazing!"