REINCARNATED WITH THE BOOK OF SUPREME LAWS

THE BABY IN THE FOREST

The ground was cold, damp, and rough against his tiny back. Every muscle in his body protested, though there wasn’t much to protest with. He tried to lift his head, then his arms, then everything at once. They refused. His chest heaved, not from exertion, but from frustration. Hunger clawed at him like sharp claws digging into his belly, sharp, insistent, cruel.

This is ridiculous, he thought. I’m fully conscious. I can think. I can reason. I can plan. And yet I’m… this. He twisted a fist in the dirt. Tiny, useless. Weak.

He remembered the life he had lived before. Ordinary. Mundane. A dozen regrets flitting through his mind like crows over a field. Mistakes he could not undo. Words he should have said. People he had failed.

And now… he had been given a second chance, but in a body that could barely even scream.

I can’t survive like this. I can’t…

The debate was endless. Should he cry? No predators might hear. Should he stay quiet? Impossible, hunger would kill him faster than the forest. He closed his eyes tightly and considered forcing some control over his infant body. Perhaps if he concentrated… no, it was useless. The small body ignored him completely.

So he cried.

Not just a normal baby cry. There was intention behind it, a strange resonance that carried a hint of his adult soul’s awareness. He let it out in sharp, desperate bursts. Each wail echoed through the trees and underbrush.

Please notice me. Please. Please take me somewhere safe.

Minutes passed. The cold wind brushed against him. His stomach twisted and burned. Leaves pressed into his face. He tried to roll onto his side, then failed. More crying. More frustration. More silent prayers, entirely adult, entirely human.

Then came footsteps. Hesitant. Careful. Crunching the fallen leaves in uneven rhythm. Elior froze if they were not human, he would die. But they were. Two humans, a man and a woman, both looking uncertain, yet alarmed.

“Oh! Look! A baby!” the woman exclaimed, stepping closer, eyes wide. “Where did you come from?”

Elior observed them carefully. Brown hair streaked with gold in the sunlight. Hands soft yet strong. Eyes kind, but cautious. They would judge him. They would decide whether he was worth saving.

Then I must make them decide to save me.

He paused mid-cry. Opened his eyes wide, staring up at them, lips trembling. Helpless. Tiny. Defenseless. Everything a baby was supposed to be.

Yes… this is perfect, he thought. Make them think I am nothing but this small, weak infant.

The man bent down slowly, reaching out with a hand that smelled faintly of smoke and iron. “Do you think he’ll survive out here alone?” he asked the woman.

“I don’t know…” she murmured, hovering closer. “He’s so small. Look at him! Just… a baby. He would never last another night.”

He’s thinking about killing time with words, isn’t he? Elior’s mind raced. Use fear. Use concern. Make them want to take me. Make them decide it’s worth it.

He whimpered softly, just enough to tug at their hearts, but not so much that it became a normal infant’s noise. He felt the thrill of subtle control, of manipulating with nothing but expressions he didn’t even know he could make.

The woman bent further, picking him up into her arms. Warmth. Safety. For the first time, his body allowed a sigh. The man hovered over them, watching carefully.

“He’s crying,” the man said. “I think… I think we can’t leave him here. What if someone comes back for him?”

The woman nodded, glancing at the sky. “We can’t just leave him. We have to take him home. At least feed him, keep him warm.”

Yes… Elior thought, clutching the woman’s finger with tiny strength he didn’t really have. You will take me. You have no choice now.

They carried him through the forest, the sun dipping lower, casting golden streaks between the trees. The dirt and leaves pressed into his tiny body, and he noticed every sensation: the smell of wet earth, the rough brush of twigs against his face, the warmth of the woman’s arms. Every detail, every second, was cataloged in his memory.

I will remember all of this. He could feel it searing into his mind every step, every look, every breath. He didn’t know why, but he knew that it mattered. Every detail could matter later.

By the time they reached their small cottage at the forest’s edge, the sun had gone, leaving long shadows across the village path. Smoke rose from chimneys, mixing with the forest scents. Children laughed in the distance. Elior’s tiny body felt exhausted, yet his mind buzzed with thought, observation, analysis.

The woman gently set him on a straw mat, brushing a leaf from his cheek. “I’ll call you… Elior,” she said softly, smiling faintly. “It means light. Strong. You will need it.”

Elior… The name rolled over in his mind. Strange, yet fitting. Samuel had been his old life. A life of ordinary human mistakes, of school failures, of regrets he had carried too long. That life was gone. He was Elior now. Another life, another chance.

He tried to move, tried to respond, but his tiny body was incapable. Arms flailed weakly. Legs kicked with nothing to show for it. A sigh of frustration escaped him internally.

Patience. You have to learn this new body. You have to survive. Observe. Adapt.

The woman hummed a soft tune, rocking him gently. The man lingered in the doorway, hand on the wooden frame, his presence protective. Elior cataloged them both: warmth, smell, sound, touch. Every detail mattered.

This is survival. This is learning. This is the beginning.

Exhaustion overcame him. Hunger still gnawed at his belly, but warmth and safety dulled the pain. He curled his tiny fists, closed his eyes, and allowed himself the faintest feeling of hope.

I am alive. I am conscious. I am here. I will not waste this life.

And far above, beyond the forest, beyond the village, the cosmos remained indifferent. Not yet a whisper of destiny, not yet the Book. Just the quiet, infinite world watching silently.

But for Elior, it was enough that these two humans had chosen him. For now, that would have to be enough.

He closed his eyes, small body at peace, mind alert, already planning, already dreaming.

Tomorrow… I learn to survive.