The book closed with a soft thud that seemed to echo in the silent room, my fingers lingering on the worn cover as I stared up at the water-stained ceiling. My mind buzzed relentlessly with everything I'd just read, thoughts spinning and colliding like stars in a galaxy. Rudeus Greyrat what a character. What a journey.
A flawed, broken man at the start someone who had wasted his first life entirely who somehow, through countless trials, devastating failures, and unwavering determination, carved out a place for himself in his new world. He'd built something meaningful from nothing, transformed himself from a worthless shut-in into someone who mattered.
It wasn't just his incredible magic or his growth as a person that captivated me so completely. It was the journey itself the raw, painful, beautiful journey. The way he stumbled and fell over and over, the way he got back up each time even when it seemed impossible, the way he refused to give up on himself even when everyone else had.
"I'd give anything to be like him," I muttered to myself, my voice barely audible in the empty dormitory room. "Anything at all."
But as soon as the words left my lips, the bitter irony hit me like a punch to the gut. What was there to give? What did I even have that was worth trading? My life was a far cry from extraordinary it was barely even a life at all. I was just another orphan in a system that had forgotten I existed, another faceless nobody attending a crumbling school that didn't care whether I showed up or not.
Nobody would miss me if I disappeared tomorrow. Nobody would even notice.
But even so… even knowing all of that…
"If I were Rudeus," I whispered into the darkness, my voice gaining a hint of desperate fervor, "I wouldn't just stop at being great. I'd go further become stronger than Orsted, even stronger than Laplace himself. I'd become the strongest person in the entire world, someone who could never be abandoned or thrown away."
The dream lingered in my mind, bittersweet and achingly impossible, as I glanced at the cheap digital clock on the nightstand. My heart sank immediately. "Oh crap, past ten already?" The caretaker wasn't exactly lenient when it came to curfew violations another strike and I'd be doing extra chores for a week. With a resigned sigh that seemed to deflate my entire body, I carefully set the book down on the floor beside my bed, reached over to turn off the flickering lamp, and burrowed deeper under my thin, scratchy blanket.
The room was quiet save for the muffled voices of the other kids filtering through the walls and the distant, rhythmic creaking of old pipes struggling through another night. I closed my eyes, pulling the blanket up to my chin, and let the story replay in my mind like a vivid, living dream.
"I wish…" My voice was barely a whisper, so quiet I could hardly hear it myself. "I wish I could wake up as Rudeus Greyrat… I wish I could have a second chance…"
The words hung in the air for a moment, and then exhaustion pulled me down into sleep.
-----
The first thing I felt was warmth real, encompassing warmth that seemed to wrap around me like a living thing. It wasn't the usual dry, insufficient warmth of my scratchy institutional blanket, but something infinitely gentler, softer, almost soothing in a way I'd never experienced before. It felt like being held, like being safe.
Light filtered through my eyelids, bright but not harsh, and when I tried to shift my body, everything felt profoundly strange. My limbs were small and heavy, like they didn't quite belong to me, like I wasn't in full control of this new form.
I heard voices then muffled and strange, speaking in a language I absolutely didn't recognize but somehow, impossibly, understood. The words made sense even though they shouldn't, as if the meaning was being fed directly into my brain.
My eyes fluttered open slowly, and the world around me swam gradually into focus. A man stood over me, his expression animated and excited, his features sharp and handsome but oddly, strangely familiar in a way that made my heart race. He spoke again, his words incomprehensible to my old mind yet carrying an unmistakable tone of joy and excitement.
Wait… this can't be happening…
The man leaned closer, grinning broadly with genuine happiness radiating from his face. I flinched instinctively, my tiny body jerking in surprise, and the sudden movement seemed to startle him. His eyes widened, and then another face appeared beside his a woman this time, leaning in with concern and curiosity.
Her golden hair framed soft, gentle features that seemed to glow in the warm light, and her kind eyes radiated such pure warmth and unconditional love as she looked down at me that something in my chest tightened painfully.
This feeling… what is this feeling?
My head turned almost against my will, taking in more of the room, and I froze completely when I saw her.
A maid stood nearby, watching the scene unfold with wary, guarded eyes. Her posture was rigid and professional, her dark hair pulled back neatly, her expression carefully neutral and unreadable.
The realization hit me like a bolt of lightning, like being struck by something divine and terrible all at once.
Paul. Zenith. Lilia.
I wasn't just dreaming some vivid fantasy. This was real. Impossibly, inexplicably real.
I was Rudeus Greyrat.
-----
The first month was excruciatingly boring in ways I couldn't have anticipated. The days blurred together into an endless cycle of eating, sleeping, and soiling myself. The realization of my reincarnation was initially overwhelming my mind raced with possibilities and plans but it didn't take long for the harsh reality to sink in, quite literally.
I was a baby. A completely helpless, crying, diaper-soiling infant with no motor control and no way to communicate the complex thoughts racing through my adult mind.
The first time I soiled myself, I genuinely wanted to crawl into a hole and die from the sheer humiliation of it all. But of course, I couldn't even crawl yet. Every single time my body betrayed me in that way which was distressingly often I was reminded viscerally of my new reality. This was going to be my life for a while, whether I liked it or not.
At least Zenith was endlessly kind and patient with me. She handled every messy situation with such gentle care, never showing even a hint of disgust or annoyance. Her soft voice would soothe even my most frustrated, angry cries when I raged internally against the limitations of this infant body.
Paul, on the other hand…
*What is with this guy and his ridiculous faces?*
Every single time he leaned in close to me, pulling the most exaggerated, goofy expressions imaginable crossing his eyes, puffing out his cheeks, sticking out his tongue I couldn't help but cry. Not out of fear or genuine discomfort, but because it was genuinely, absurdly hilarious. The contrast between his reputation as a skilled swordsman and these idiotic faces was too much. His immediate sad reactions when I cried only made it funnier, which made me cry-laugh harder, which confused him more.
Then there was Lilia, whose presence I found deeply unsettling at first. Her quiet, reserved demeanor and constantly watchful eyes made me nervous. She rarely smiled at me and often seemed to avoid direct contact when she could, handling me only when absolutely necessary, as if I were some kind of ticking time bomb that might explode at any moment.
Still, despite all the physical limitations and embarrassments, I had plenty of time to think, to observe, to plan. My tiny body severely limited what I could physically do, but I absolutely refused to waste this precious time. I had been given an impossible second chance, and I wasn't going to squander it.
I began experimenting cautiously, trying to sense the mana that I knew hoped was within me and all around me.
The first few attempts ended in complete failure or more accurately, in sudden unconsciousness. I would focus intently, trying to feel something, anything, and then the world would spin violently and darkness would claim me. But with each attempt, I learned a little bit more about the sensation I was searching for, refined my approach, pushed a little further.
And then it finally happened.
One quiet evening, as the house grew still and peaceful around me, as Zenith hummed softly while preparing dinner and Paul practiced sword forms in the yard, I focused harder than ever before. I pushed past the discomfort, past the dizziness, and reached for that elusive sensation.
And I felt it a faint, shimmering presence in the air around me, like countless tiny lights dancing just beyond normal vision. For one brief, glorious moment, I could actually see the mana, see the way it flowed and pooled in the world.
My elation was painfully short-lived. The world spun viciously, my vision tunneled, and darkness claimed me once again.
But I had felt it. I had seen it.
That was enough. That was progress.
-----
By my third month in this new life, I could finally, finally crawl. The sensation of moving independently, however clumsy and inefficient, was absolutely exhilarating. It was freedom, even if just a tiny taste of it.
Everything in the world seemed enormous from this new perspective towering and imposing. The house became a fascinating labyrinth of giant furniture to explore and endless corridors that seemed to stretch forever.
Zenith and Lilia spent much of their time frantically chasing after me as I explored every corner I could reach. I quickly discovered that hiding under tables and behind curtains turned everyday life into an impromptu, entertaining game of hide-and-seek. Zenith's exasperated but genuinely amused laugh every time she finally found me crammed into some ridiculous hiding spot was absolutely worth the gentle scolding that inevitably followed.
"Rudy, what am I going to do with you?" she'd say, shaking her head with that warm smile that made my chest feel strange and tight.
Lilia, surprisingly, began to soften toward me during this period. I'd often crawl determinedly to her while she worked, tugging persistently at her apron until she finally gave in and picked me up. At first, she seemed deeply unsure and uncomfortable, holding me stiffly like I might break. But over time, gradually, her rigid demeanor relaxed. She even started smiling small, fleeting smiles that appeared and vanished quickly, but they spoke volumes about the walls slowly coming down.
I continued my mana training religiously despite the setbacks, though my progress was frustratingly slow. Unlike the Rudeus in the original story, I didn't feel those dramatic bursts of exponential growth, those moments of sudden breakthrough that seemed to come easily to him.
Maybe I don't have the Laplace Factor, I theorized during one of my practice sessions. It was a disturbing thought, one that I couldn't confirm or deny, but it would certainly explain the significant discrepancy between my progress and what I remembered from the story.
Still, I refused to give up. Slow progress was still progress.
-----
A year passed, marked by small victories and incremental improvements, and I decided firmly that it was time to start practicing actual magic properly. My body felt considerably stronger and more coordinated, and my mana reserves, while not extraordinary were stable enough to attempt a real spell without immediately passing out.
One afternoon, when I thought I was alone, Lilia found me sitting on the floor, intently flipping through one of Paul's magic books. The text was still difficult to read, but I was slowly piecing together the meanings.
"Master Rudeus," she said carefully, her tone cautious and slightly concerned, "what exactly are you doing with that book?"
"Just looking at the pretty pictures," I replied innocently, giving her my best 'harmless baby' smile.
She eyed me with deep suspicion, clearly not buying my excuse for even a second, but eventually she let it slide with a small sigh. She left me to my own devices, though I could feel her checking on me more frequently after that.
As soon as she was completely gone and I was certain I was alone, I placed the book down carefully and focused with every ounce of concentration I possessed. I decided to start with Waterball a basic, elementary spell that I knew well from the story, one that even beginners could eventually master.
Stretching out my tiny hand, palm up, I visualized it clearly: a perfect droplet of water. I imagined every detail its cool, smooth surface, the way it would shimmer and reflect light, the sensation of running water in constant motion.
Mana surged through my body like a current, pooling in my outstretched palm. I could feel it gathering, condensing, taking shape.
A small, glistening orb of water appeared, hovering just above my hand.
For one incredible moment, I marveled at the sight of actual magic, real magic that I had created
until my vision went completely black and I collapsed.
When I woke up some unknown time later, I found Lilia standing over me, her expression caught somewhere between exasperation and genuine amusement.
"Next time, young master," she said dryly, though I could see her fighting back a smile, "please go to the bathroom before you go to sleep."
My face burned with mortification and embarrassment, but I refused to let it deter me. This was just a setback, a learning experience.
Over the following month, I practiced relentlessly and obsessively, using an old vase to safely contain the water I conjured. My stamina grew steadily, expanding day by day, and soon I could cast multiple waterballs in succession before feeling the familiar mental strain that preceded passing out.
-----
By the time I reached two years old, I had begun to seriously prioritize my physical conditioning alongside my magical training. Magic was absolutely fascinating and powerful, but I knew from the story that if I truly wanted to follow Rudeus's path and become someone of genuine power, someone who could protect what mattered, I needed to train my body just as rigorously as my mind.
Every single morning, before Zenith or Paul woke up and could stop me, I would sneak quietly into the yard and start my brutal workout routine. My little arms and legs felt pathetically weak at first, but that didn't stop me. I refused to let it stop me.
I pushed myself to the absolute limit every day doing push-ups until my arms trembled and gave out, sit-ups until my stomach muscles burned like fire, and running laps around the house until my legs threatened to collapse beneath me. Well only as much as a toddler like me could do. Each session left me completely drenched in sweat, gasping for air, but I welcomed the discomfort. I needed it. It was the price of becoming stronger, the cost of never being weak and helpless again.
Zenith and Lilia definitely noticed the changes in me. I could see it in their expressions, in the way they watched me.
Lilia would appear after my training sessions like clockwork, bringing a cold towel and drawing a bath without being asked. Her gentle touches as she helped clean me up reminded me that I wasn't truly alone in this world anymore. It was odd strange and unfamiliar but in a way that made my chest feel warm, I began to actually look forward to her care. Her presence had shifted from just that of a dutiful servant to someone who genuinely watched over me, who cared about my wellbeing.
As for Zenith, she noticed my dedication immediately but never mentioned it directly or tried to stop me. She simply smiled warmly every single time she caught sight of me practicing through the kitchen window, her quiet pride evident in the way she watched me run determined laps around the yard. I couldn't help but wonder if she saw something special in me, some potential she hadn't expected to find in her young son.
But despite all of this despite the quiet, genuine kindness of Zenith, the growing, deepening bond with Lilia, and the undeniable warmth of my new life that I'd never experienced before I still couldn't shake the nagging, persistent fear that had settled deep in my chest like a stone.
What if they abandon me? What if this family, this warmth, this love… what if it's all just temporary?
The scars of my past life being left behind in that cold orphanage, discarded like worthless trash that nobody wanted ran far deeper than I'd realized. It wasn't just my body that was different in this new life; my heart, my soul, my ability to trust had changed too. I was cautious to the point of paranoia, emotionally distant even when I didn't want to be, always wondering when the other shoe would drop, when they'd realize I wasn't worth keeping.
It wasn't just a simple fear of abandonment. It was a bone-deep, paralyzing fear of loving too much, of caring too deeply. If I let myself truly care, if I allowed myself to completely feel like a real part of this family, what would happen when it all inevitably came crashing down? What would happen to me when they finally left like everyone else had?
And so I kept my distance, maintaining careful emotional walls. I didn't cry for attention the way other children constantly did. I didn't actively seek out affection or comfort. I simply stayed quietly in the background, trying to be good, trying to do the right things without getting too attached, without making myself vulnerable.
It wasn't healthy. I knew it wasn't healthy. But it was all I knew how to do, the only way I knew how to protect myself.
-----
One day, after a particularly exhausting training session that left me wobbling on my feet, I made a decision. I needed to talk to someone about this crushing weight I carried.
I found Lilia finishing up cleaning my room, her movements as graceful and efficient as ever.
"Lilia…" I murmured softly, my voice barely above a whisper.
She immediately looked down at me, her expression softening noticeably. "Yes, Master Rudeus? Is something wrong?"
"I—" I hesitated, my throat suddenly tight. The words were hard to form, harder to speak. "Do you… do you think Zenith really loves me?"
The question hung in the air between us.
Lilia's expression didn't falter or show surprise. Her eyes simply softened further, filled with an understanding that suggested she'd been expecting this question, or one like it, for a while now.
"Miss Zenith loves you with all her heart," she replied gently but firmly, kneeling down so we were at eye level. "She may not always show it in the dramatic ways other mothers might, but her love for you is absolutely undeniable. I see it every day."
She paused, choosing her words carefully. "You don't cry much like other babies do, and you often keep to yourself, but I can see the truth. Miss Zenith would sacrifice absolutely anything even herself if it meant you would be happy and safe."
Her words struck me deeply, resonating with something inside me. I didn't respond immediately, too lost in the sudden swell of emotions I didn't know how to process.
"You're right," I finally whispered, my voice cracking. "I just… I'm not sure I know how to love people back. I don't know if I remember how."
Lilia didn't answer right away. She didn't offer empty platitudes or false reassurances. She simply reached out and patted my head gently, her touch warm and grounding, before quietly returning to her duties.
But that small gesture meant more than any words could have.
-----
Later that same day, feeling emotionally bare and uncertain, I found Zenith working in her garden as she always did in the afternoons. The sight of her kneeling beside the small plants, carefully and lovingly tending to each one, had become something deeply familiar to me.
She wasn't just gardening mechanically. She was nurturing these plants with genuine care, pouring all her love and attention into them as if they were her children, as if each leaf and stem mattered personally to her.
I felt a sudden, overwhelming impulse. I crawled over to her slowly, feeling the cool, damp earth beneath my hands and knees, the smell of soil and growing things filling my nose.
She didn't notice me at first, her focus entirely absorbed in the delicate task at hand. But as soon as I reached her side and made a small sound, she looked up, and her entire expression transformed, softening with that maternal warmth that only a mother's gaze could truly have.
"Rudy," she said, her voice gentle and welcoming, filled with affection. "Would you like to help me with the plants today?"
I nodded eagerly, not trusting myself to speak past the sudden lump in my throat.
She smiled and handed me a small watering can far too heavy for my tiny frame, really but I gripped it determinedly with both hands, refusing to give up. Zenith was endlessly patient, guiding my clumsy movements with gentle hands, helping me tilt the can carefully so the water flowed gently over the thirsty soil without flooding the delicate roots.
For a long while, we worked together in comfortable silence. The only sounds were the soft rustling of leaves in the warm breeze, the distant, peaceful hum of birds singing, and the quiet splash of water on earth.
When we finished watering the last plant, Zenith turned to me with a radiant smile that made my heart feel genuinely lighter.
"Thank you so much, Rudy. You've helped me tremendously today."
Before I could say anything in response, before I could even process what was happening, she pulled me into a tight embrace, squeezing me gently but firmly against her chest.
The warmth of her hug was completely overwhelming a sensation so foreign and powerful that I almost froze in shock.
This feeling… this is…
I let out a shaky, trembling breath that was almost a sob, my heart thudding wildly in my chest. It felt so much right, so perfect, but it was also utterly terrifying in its intensity. She held me like I was precious beyond measure, like I was genuinely a part of her life in a way I had never experienced before, in either life.
For the first time since arriving in this world, I didn't resist the powerful urge to let my carefully guarded emotions show. I buried my face against her chest, feeling the steady, comforting rise and fall of her breath, and for just this one moment, I allowed myself to feel completely, utterly safe.
"Rudy," Zenith murmured, her voice thick with emotion, slightly muffled. "I'm so glad you're here with us. I'm so incredibly glad you're my son."
I couldn't find any words to respond, couldn't form any coherent thought. But I didn't need to. The overwhelming feeling of belonging, of being genuinely wanted and loved, wrapped around me like the warmest blanket imaginable.
And I finally understood what I'd been missing my entire previous life.
*This is what family feels like. This is what home feels like.*
-----
At two and a half years old, my life began to shift dramatically again. I was finally ready both physically and mentally to start focusing on my magic training with complete seriousness. But I didn't want to be just another mage, just another magic user.
No. I wanted to be something more than that. Something unique and powerful. I wanted to blend the raw strength and discipline of swordsmanship with the versatile power of magic just like Rudeus had eventually done in the story.
The moment I made this firm decision, I began training even harder than before, pushing myself to new limits. I spent hours each day practicing my mana control obsessively, trying to master basic spells and constantly push the boundaries of my abilities further and further. But I absolutely didn't stop there. After each exhausting magic session, I would immediately transition to sword drills, mimicking and practicing the precise movements I had seen Paul execute with his blade during his daily training.
It was utterly exhausting both physically and mentally draining in ways I hadn't anticipated. My body ached constantly, my mind felt stretched thin, my mana reserves were perpetually depleted.
But every single drop of sweat, every muscle ache, every moment of dizziness and exhaustion felt like genuine, meaningful progress.
One evening, after a particularly brutal training session that had left me collapsed on the floor, Lilia came into my room carrying a damp towel and a glass of cold water. She handed them to me quietly without comment, but her eyes glinted with something that wasn't quite pride but something very close to it, something warm and approving.
"You're doing remarkably well, Master Rudeus," she said softly, her voice full of respect and something else I couldn't quite identify. "But please remember to rest properly. Your body is still growing, still developing. You can't push yourself like this forever without consequences."
"I know," I replied, wiping the sweat from my brow with the towel, still breathing hard. "I'll take a break soon. I promise."
She didn't argue or push further. Instead, she simply gave me one long, meaningful look before leaving the room, giving me space to continue my training. But her quiet, unspoken approval meant infinitely more than any elaborate words of praise ever could have.
*I was beginning to love them. All of them. This family, this life.*
*And that terrified me more than anything.*
-----
It had been a few days since the infamous incident with the wall when my excited attempt at practicing a larger-scale water spell had accidentally demolished part of the garden fence and my anticipation had only grown more intense. The idea of finally meeting Roxy, my soon-to-be tutor and one of my favorite characters from the story, was enough to make my heart race uncontrollably with excitement.
I didn't know exactly when she'd arrive, but I couldn't sit still. I found myself constantly checking the windows, watching the road, waiting. I was ready to show off my abilities, to prove that even though I appeared to be just a little kid, I could do far more than anyone expected.
When the door finally opened and she walked in, I felt my breath catch.
There she was a petite woman with distinctive blue hair and the unmistakable features of a Migurd demon. At first glance, she looked like just a regular stranger, another traveler passing through. But the more I stared at her, studying her features carefully, the more I could feel an overwhelming sense of familiarity washing over me.
This was really her. Roxy Migurdia. The teacher I had read about so extensively in my previous life, admired from afar. One of the most important people in Rudeus's journey.
Roxy turned to my parents with a half-annoyed, half-amused expression as they greeted her enthusiastically. "So," she said, her tone professional but slightly skeptical, "where exactly is this supposed prodigy of yours? The child you claim can already use magic?"
I took a deep breath, pushing aside the childlike hesitation and nervousness that still lingered within me despite everything. This was my moment. This was my chance to make a real impression.
"I'm right here," I said clearly, stepping forward from behind my parents with as much confidence as I could muster.
Roxy's sharp eyes immediately narrowed as she looked me over critically, her experienced gaze flicking from my face down to the small body I currently inhabited, taking in every detail. She definitely didn't look impressed by what she saw.
"A child this young?" She sighed, her skepticism evident in every word. "I'm sure your parents see a little spark of potential and think you're going to be the next great mage, but honestly, I've seen this exact situation countless times before. Overeager parents with unrealistic expectations." She crossed her arms. "Kids your age always think they can do magic right away just because they've seen it done, but—"
"Rudy is a very special boy," Zenith interrupted, smiling at me with such genuine pride that it made my chest feel tight. Her eyes were gleaming with absolute confidence. "You'll see very soon. He'll surprise you."
Roxy's skepticism only seemed to deepen at that, but she didn't appear to be the type to back down from any challenge. She looked me up and down one more time, assessing. "Alright, kid," she finally said, her tone suggesting she was humoring everyone. "Show me what you've supposedly got."
I took a deliberate step forward, my heart pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. I wasn't nervous about showing her my magic not exactly. No, I was far more nervous about the possibility of disappointing her, of seeing that dismissive look in her eyes, of proving that I was just another overhyped child after all.
Despite everything I'd accomplished, I still felt the crushing weight of my past life, that deep-seated fear of being discarded, abandoned, deemed worthless. But this time this time I had a real chance to prove myself. To show that I was worth something.
I swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in my throat, and held out my small hand with determination. "Okay," I said, my voice quieter and less steady than I'd intended. "I'll show you."
Roxy raised a skeptical eyebrow, her ornate staff still held firmly in hand, clearly ready for whatever disappointing display she expected from me. I could see in her expression that she didn't expect much maybe a failed attempt at conjuring water, or perhaps just a child's fantasy about magic. After all, how could a toddler like me do anything truly impressive?
But I knew better. I knew what I was capable of. I wasn't just any ordinary baby.
I was Rudeus Greyrat at least, in this new body. And I had been preparing for this moment.
I closed my eyes and focused with absolute concentration, feeling the now-familiar flow of mana inside and around me. It wasn't like the grand, explosive magic I had seen described in epic stories no dramatic chants or glowing circles. This was the foundation, the basics, the building blocks of everything.
I envisioned the water clearly in my mind the flow of it, the weight, the way it would move and behave. The delicate movement as it gathered and formed into a perfect sphere. The feeling of mana gathering in my palm was completely familiar now, like using a tool I'd practiced with for years. A simple flick of my wrist, a gentle push of will, and the water ball formed smoothly and quickly.
I opened my eyes and saw the perfectly formed water ball hovering steadily in front of me, completely intact and stable.
I looked up at Roxy, allowing myself a small, slightly shy but undeniably proud smile. "Here," I said, unable to keep the eagerness completely out of my voice. "It's not much, really, but—"
But Roxy just stared at me in complete silence, her eyes wide with genuine shock and disbelief.
"H-how did you…" Her voice was tight and strained, like she couldn't quite process what had just happened right in front of her. "How did you do that without an incantation?"
I couldn't help but puff out my chest just a little bit, feeling a surge of pride. "Oh, it's nothing too special," I said with what I hoped was a casual shrug, though inside I was thrilled. "It's just incantationless magic. I taught myself by practicing every day."
She blinked several times in rapid succession, clearly not expecting that answer at all. The staff in her hand actually trembled slightly as she struggled to process this information. "Incantationless magic?" she echoed, her voice filled with awe and disbelief. "At your age? How in the world did you—? That's supposed to be—"
I shrugged again, more nonchalantly this time, though inside I felt an overwhelming rush of pride and validation. "Well, I've been practicing a lot. I read some books and thought I'd try something different from what they said to do."
Roxy stood completely frozen for what felt like an eternity, clearly taken utterly aback. Her usual calm, composed, professional demeanor had completely faltered, and for a brief moment, I saw her genuinely questioning everything she thought she knew about magic, about teaching, about what was possible.
This was better than I'd hoped.
Just then, perfectly timed, my mother Zenith stepped outside and saw the two of us standing there in the garden. The warmth in her proud smile was absolutely unmistakable. "It's time to eat," she called out warmly. "Come inside, Rudy. And Roxy, you too you're part of the family now. Come on in and join us."
I looked up at Roxy and caught the slight flush on her cheeks as she slowly adjusted to this new reality, to the warm welcome she was receiving. She was still trying visibly to process everything that had just happened, but a small, soft smile tugged at her lips as she finally nodded.
"Alright," she said, still sounding somewhat dazed. "I guess I'm part of the family now, huh?"
I grinned widely, unable to contain my happiness. "It's going to be fun," I said, though even I was surprised by how genuinely calm and confident I sounded. Deep inside, buried beneath the excitement, I was still that nervous, abandoned little boy who had been thrown away by his previous family, still terrified of losing everything again.
But in this moment, surrounded by the warmth of Zenith's loving smile, Paul's proud expression, and Roxy's shocked but pleased presence, I felt something I'd never really felt before.
Real hope. Genuine hope for the future.
Maybe just maybe I could build something real here. Something that wouldn't be taken away. A family that wouldn't abandon me.
A life worth living.