If there was one thing Sharath hated more than unexpected visitors, it was the kind of visitor who came with *equipment*. People with equipment always meant business — and in his past life, that business usually ended with him working late fixing whatever disaster they'd brought.
Today, the "equipment person" was the **court magister**. And he wasn't here to admire the baby or pinch cheeks. He was here to scan Sharath's *soul*.
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## The Morning Tension
From the moment the sun angled through the nursery windows, the staff moved like a hive preparing for the queen's inspection. Vinya was in full efficiency mode — straightening drapes that didn't need straightening, polishing the already glowing cradle runes, and making sure Sharath's ceremonial blanket was folded exactly *just so*.
Eyebrows hovered nearby, holding a bundle of fresh linens. "Do you think he'll cry during the reading?"
Vinya glanced at Sharath. "He doesn't cry much."
"Then maybe he'll laugh? That's supposed to be lucky."
Sharath met their eyes and gave a slow, deliberate blink. His expression said: *I am not a circus act.*
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## The Parental Arrival
Around mid-morning, Lady Ishvari swept in, her silken skirts whispering against the polished floor. She carried herself like someone who had never been late to anything in her life.
Behind her, Lord Varundar followed in a more relaxed stride — though Sharath noticed the faint clink of chainmail under his tunic. Armor for a baby's aura reading? That was… telling.
Ishvari came to the cradle and brushed a finger against Sharath's cheek. "You will be on your best behavior," she said, more like a command than a request.
He cooed innocently, which seemed to satisfy her.
Varundar leaned on the cradle edge. "Don't let them prod you too much," he said quietly, almost like an inside joke.
The implication that *this might be invasive* was not lost on Sharath.
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## What Is an Aura Reading, Anyway?
Sharath had picked up snippets from servant gossip over the last week. An aura reading, as far as he could tell, was a magical deep-dive into a person's essence — personality, magical aptitude, possible future talents, and, in some cases, even traces of past lives.
Which was… concerning.
Being reincarnated came with enough complications without having a medieval-magical polygraph sniffing around his soul.
From what he understood, the magister would use a combination of rune circles, enchanted crystal lenses, and "binding threads" to map the magical patterns in his body. The whole thing was treated like both a scientific measurement and a ceremonial blessing.
Sharath's concern wasn't that they'd find magic. He *wanted* that on the record. The problem was what else they might see. Would his past life flash before their eyes? Would they somehow detect that he once had a LinkedIn profile? That he knew how to write bash scripts?
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## The Room Transformation
Servants bustled in and out, bringing in strange objects for the reading. A low table was set up beside the cradle, its surface inlaid with concentric rune circles that shimmered faintly.
A stand was placed in the center of the room to hold the magister's Star Prism — a multi-faceted crystal the size of a melon, humming with a faint, almost musical vibration.
The furniture was rearranged so that the cradle faced the open space, as if Sharath were about to perform on stage.
Braska the dog took up position near the door, watching everything with the suspicious air of someone guarding a VIP.
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## Servant Gossip 2.0
The unusual setup drew plenty of hallway commentary.
"Do you think the baby will glow?" one young page whispered. "Some do," came the reply. "Usually golden. Once, the magister said he saw crimson sparks — turned out the boy was a war mage in training." "My aunt swears her cousin's child turned the crystal *black*. They moved away the next week."
Sharath filed that last one away under *Things That Are Probably Foreshadowing*.
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## A Subtle Pep Talk
When the preparations were nearly done, Ishvari dismissed the servants and leaned close to Sharath. "They will be looking for signs," she said softly, "but you need not show them everything."
He gave the tiniest nod. She noticed — he saw it in the way her lips quirked ever so slightly.
Varundar, meanwhile, was fiddling with the hawk carving he'd given Sharath days before. Without looking up, he murmured, "It's a reading, not an interrogation. Still… stay steady."
If he had the muscles to raise an eyebrow, Sharath would have.
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## The Magister Arrives
The door opened with a deep, deliberate creak, as if the hinges themselves were announcing the arrival of someone important.
The magister was an older man, tall and spare, his robe a deep indigo stitched with fine silver thread. His beard was long enough to tuck into his belt — which, thankfully, he did not do.
He carried a staff topped with a polished obsidian sphere. The sphere pulsed once as he stepped into the room, and the runes on the table flared in response.
"Lord Varundar. Lady Ishvari," the magister intoned. "And… the young master."
His eyes settled on Sharath. It was not the look adults gave babies. This was an assessment — sharp, calculating, and without the slightest trace of "aww, how cute."
Wonderful. I'm in the magical equivalent of a job interview, and I'm in a diaper.
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## The Setup
The magister gestured for the cradle to be moved closer to the rune table. Vinya and Eyebrows did so carefully, their movements rehearsed and precise.
Once in position, the magister began placing small crystal lenses around the table's circumference. Each lens was inscribed with a different rune — symbols for fire, water, air, earth, light, shadow, and a few Sharath didn't recognize.
He muttered an incantation under his breath, and the lenses began to hum in harmony with the Star Prism.
The room's air seemed to thicken, like the pause before a thunderstorm.
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## Waiting in the Circle
Sharath lay in the cradle, staring at the glowing runes around him. He could feel the magic already — not as a force pressing against him, but more like a network ping sweeping across his being.
Vinya adjusted the ceremonial blanket over him and stepped back. Ishvari and Varundar moved to stand behind the magister.
For a long moment, no one spoke. The only sounds were the faint hum of the lenses and the distant hoot of an owl outside.
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## Sharath's Inner Prep
Okay, here's the plan: 1. Look normal. 2. Let them find some magic — enough to keep interest. 3. Do NOT accidentally reveal I know things I shouldn't. 4. Try not to sneeze and disrupt the ritual.
This would be easier if I hadn't had two lifetimes of curiosity trained into me.
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## The First Glimpse
The magister raised his staff, and the runes on the table flared to life, casting strange shadows on the walls. The Star Prism began to turn slowly on its stand, catching and refracting light into shifting beams.
One beam struck Sharath directly, and the hum deepened.
Something was coming.
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