As he sifted through his memories, he discovered what made this world interesting
"Magic…" he murmured as he washed away dirt and dried blood. "In this world, power doesn't come from muscles… but from the world itself."
The memories of the previous Thiriel were vague when it came to magic, but enough to grasp the basics: there would be a magical aptitude test the next day at the orphanage. Those who showed talent were taken in by a mage as an apprentices. Those who didn't… continued living as ordinary mortals.
Already adapted to the weakness of his new body, he began his journey back.
The sky was gray. In the distance rose the uneven walls of a city his memories called Oakhaven.
He returned to the city as the sun sank behind the rooftops.
He reached the orphanage just as the first lamps were being lit. In the back courtyard, Caethiriel was carrying a basket of clothes toward the improvised laundry area.
When she saw him, she dropped the basket and ran toward him.
"Brother!" Her voice was a ray of light amid so much misery. "Finally! I was so worried… it's almost night. Where were you?"
Thiriel forced himself to soften his expression. The memories told him that Caethiriel was the only thing that mattered to the previous Thiriel.
"I got lost exploring the outer ruins. It was nothing."
She looked him up and down, frowning.
"You're pale. Did you eat anything today?"
Caethiriel stepped closer and touched his forehead with the back of her hand.
"You're freezing. Tomorrow is the magical aptitude test. If you pass… maybe they'll take us out of here. The Matron says those with talent get decent food and an education."
"I'm just a little tired, Caethiriel. I'm going to bed early today," Thiriel said, pretending as he headed back to his room.
Thiriel felt a strange twinge as he looked at her. In his previous life, he had never had a family. Only soldiers and vassals. This girl, with her hands reddened by the cold and a smile too big for her thin face, was… something he had never experienced.
Watching his sister's back, Thiriel's smile faded as he entered the orphanage room where he slept, thinking about the magical aptitude test—the very test for which he had been betrayed and killed over a magical training manual he had found with the traitor.
Though he had been the strongest warrior on the continent, he did not know how to approach that energy called magic, nor how to improve it with his existing knowledge.
As he lay there thinking about how to pass the test and secure a place to study magic, the door opened. Drowen entered with the other boys, laughing and talking loudly about tomorrow's test.
When he saw Thiriel sitting on his bed, his smile faltered for a fraction of a second.
"Thiriel! Where the hell were you? We thought you'd run away."
The other roommates greeted him.
"Good thing you came back!"
"We were about to tell the Matron."
Thiriel watched them in silence. Then he fixed his gaze on Drowen.
"Don't worry. I just went for a walk. I wanted to… clear my head before the test."
Drowen swallowed. His eyes shifted away.
"Yeah… well. Good thing. Get some rest. Tomorrow we have to give it everything."
"Of course," Thiriel replied with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Tomorrow, we'll give it everything."
He lay down with his back to them, thinking about how he would proceed from now on.
Drowen would die first.
And he also had to earn the chance to be selected, so he could learn magic.