Warmth. Soft, gentle warmth pressed against my cheek, and a steady heartbeat echoed near my ear, slow and soothing. For a moment I forgot everything the panic, the hunger, the shock of waking up in a forest newborn and helpless. I simply existed in the calm rise and fall of someone’s chest. So this is what comfort feels like when life gives you a second chance. A woman's voice hummed above me. The kind of humming people do not to perform, but to calm their own hearts. Thoughtful, soft, honest. Fingers brushed dirt from my face, tender, careful, like I was something fragile and precious. “Poor little thing,” she whispered. “So tiny… who leaves a baby alone out there?” Tiny. If only she knew. The man walking beside her wasn't as easily swayed. His voice was tight, restless. “We could’ve left him,” he muttered. “We don’t know where he came from, Rina. Who knows what trouble comes with him?” She ignored him. The type of woman who hears danger and chooses love anyway. Stubborn. Ge

Morning came slow, soft, warm — like sunlight had forgotten urgency and decided to stretch lazily across the world. Dust floated in the golden beam spilling through the window, dancing as Rina moved about the room.Her voice hummed again, not a tune but a habit — the sound people make when peace is fragile and they want to hold it a little tighter.I lay wrapped on a small blanket, watching her grind herbs. Not potions, not magic — simple medicine for ordinary people. A mortar, a pestle, a bowl. In another life it would be mundane.Here?It was love, disguised as routine.Aran stepped in from outside, wiping sweat and dust from his brow. He looked at me first — always first — before placing chopped wood by the door.“He’s awake,” he said softly, like stating the weather but secretly relieved.I blinked up at him. He smiled. I gurgled — intentionally dignified, thank you very much.And then… I tried.Just a small shift at first. Arm pressing down. Tiny muscles trembling. A breath, a pu

The morning breeze carried the smell of damp earth and woodsmoke through the small window. Birds were already fighting for territory in the trees outside — loud, dramatic, overly confident for creatures that weighed less than a loaf of bread.Elior sat cross-legged by the door, tying a bundle of firewood with clumsy fingers. The rope kept slipping.Again.One more loop, pull tight.He bit his lip in concentration, tiny brows furrowing. A normal five-year-old would have tied themselves to the wood by now. Elior only tied the rope to his sleeve once.Progress.Aran leaned over him, adjusting the knot gently. “It’s not about strength. It’s about patience.”His voice was steady, slow, like the river that passed the fields.Elior nodded. “Patience,” he echoed.Rina peeked in from outside, a woven basket on her hip. “After you’re done, help me carry herbs to the square, alright?”He puffed out his little chest. “Okay!”He liked helping. Helping made him feel… real. Not like a spirit trapped

Morning light slipped through the small window, landing on Elior’s face like warm gold. It should have been a normal morning. Birds chattered. Someone in the village pounded grain. Smoke drifted from early cooking fires. Nothing unusual. But Elior lay still, staring at the ceiling, feeling like someone had peeled open the world and shown him the bones inside. He blinked slowly. Yesterday had not been a dream. He knew. He did not have the luxury of pretending. He had seen beginnings. Real beginnings. A darkness so deep it felt endless. A spark so bright it felt alive. A book made of light opening like it had been waiting millennia just for him. His heart beat softly. In his mind, a voice continued to echo in cold clarity: > Contrasting bloodline detected Attempt merging… Merge failed Beginning purification Bloodline altering… New lineage granted Law Genesis Bloodline awakened Even now, he could feel something faint flowing through his veins, not like qi, not like the w

Elior followed the faint sound of laughter toward the village square. Children ran between the stalls, kicking up dust, shouting about who was fastest or who could climb the fence higher. Miren had called him, and he had obeyed. It was time to join them, though part of him wanted to linger by the creek, to feel the quiet pulse of the world again. He spotted Lana spinning around with her arms wide, her laughter bright like sunlight, and Taron sitting cross-legged under a tree, arms crossed, frowning at the others. Elior’s feet moved of their own accord, carrying him toward the open space. He clutched the pebble he had kept in his pocket, turning it over in his hand. It felt ordinary now, yet he knew it had obeyed him before. That thought alone made his small chest tighten with excitement. “Elior, hurry!” Miren called from behind, waving him over. She didn’t look back to see if he was following. He slipped into the group quietly, keeping a hand in his pocket around the pebble. Taron