It had been several years since Selion had opened his eyes to this world. He had already grown used to his new mother and father. His mother, Zenith, was a healer with gentle hands that could mend minor wounds. His father, Arthur, was a water controller—able to summon just enough water to fill a bucket. They were a humble family of commoners, far from nobility or power. But that didn't matter to Selion. Even in his previous life, he had never been concerned with titles or social status.
In this world, his own magical ability had yet to awaken. Still, thanks to the books gifted to him by his grandmother, he had already developed a decent understanding of magic. He spent most of his days immersed in reading—devouring texts on elemental control, spells, and swordsmanship.
One day, he noticed his father training in the yard from behind the window. The graceful movements of Arthur's sword caught Selion's eye and stirred something deep within him. The image brought memories of his past life flooding back.
Zenith noticed her son's fascinated gaze and smiled. That evening, she spoke with Arthur, convinced that their son had taken an interest in swordplay.
On his birthday, Selion was gifted a wooden sword. Arthur, hoping to have a little fun, took him to the backyard. But for Selion, this was no game. Somewhere inside that small body lay the spirit of a seasoned warrior. Every stance, every swing of the wooden blade was calculated and sharp—far beyond what one would expect from a child his age.
Arthur and Zenith stood in awe as they watched him move.
"…A prodigy," Arthur whispered under his breath, eyes wide with admiration.
Years passed.
Selion had now reached the age to attend the village's magic school. It was his first day. Zenith accompanied him to the gates, gave him a soft smile, and left him with a quiet "Good luck."
Selion looked around, his heart heavy. He had never had a friend. Talking to others had always been difficult. Quietly, he stepped into the classroom and took a seat in the middle row. As he was pulling books from his bag, a soft voice interrupted him.
A girl stood beside him. Her eyes sparkled, and a shy smile curled her lips.
"Hi," she said. "Can I be your friend?"
Selion was caught off guard. No one had ever said something like that to him before. He gave a small nod.
"My name is Alice," she added.
"I'm Selion," he replied.
And just like that, his first friendship began.
The teacher soon entered, and the day carried on. For the first time, Selion felt happy in a way he hadn't known before. Alice… was his first true friend.
When school ended, the students began leaving one by one. Selion walked out as well, but stopped after a few steps—he had forgotten one of his books in the classroom.
He ran back.
As he neared the door, he heard voices inside. He paused and peeked through the small glass window.
What he saw froze his blood.
A group of older boys had cornered Alice. They were yelling at her, forcing her to take off her clothes. She was crying, trembling in fear.
Anger surged through Selion's body like fire.
He kicked the door open.
"Stop it!" he shouted.
The boys laughed.
"And who are you supposed to be?" one of them sneered as he stepped toward Selion.
Selion charged forward, fists clenched. But he was still too weak. A few punches later, he was knocked to the ground, barely conscious.
"I wish… I could be strong again… like I used to be…" he whispered.
And then time stopped.
The air thickened.
A radiant light descended from above, and a glowing white entity appeared before him. Its presence felt both divine and ancient.
"You must never speak of your past life," it said in a calm, echoing voice. "But know this—great power can still be yours in this world."
Selion felt something stir inside. His chest burned. Thunder surged through his veins. The being raised a hand.
"I grant you control over the power of lightning."
Time resumed.
Selion rose slowly to his feet. His eyes gleamed. Electricity danced across his skin. Sparks crackled from his fingertips.
He stepped forward.
"Stay away from her."
This time, the bullies flinched. Selion, now reborn in power, struck them down with bolts of searing energy.
Alice, still crying, ran into his arms—both terrified and amazed.
Perhaps… this was where the first sparks of something deeper had been born.