In the quiet village of Graded, nestled near the gentle hills of eastern Hestera, I was born—or rather, reborn.

The last thing I remember from my past life is dying. How exactly I died is a mystery. The memory is foggy, like a dream slipping away as soon as you try to grasp it. Maybe that’s just how it is with death—everything becomes blurred, faded, like a forgotten story. But what I didn’t expect after death was what came next: the warm embrace of a beautiful young woman, cradling me like I was the most precious thing in the world.

Let me put it plainly—I was reincarnated.

The woman holding me is my mother. Her name is Sarena, and she looks to be in her twenties. Beside her stood a strong, proud man with kind eyes—my father, Arden. They both looked down at me with joy in their eyes, full of hope and wonder. That day, they named me Aren Valehart.

I also found out I wasn’t alone. I have an older sister named Eryne. She’s three years older than me, full of energy and curiosity. With a spark in her eyes and a mischievous smile, she already seems like someone destined for something great.

As I slowly adjusted to this new life, I began to understand more about the world around me. We live in a small, peaceful village named Graded. It’s a remote place, quiet and simple, where everyone knows everyone. But even in this secluded corner, stories and knowledge of the larger world reach us. The world we live in is called “The Known Realm,” a vast land divided into four mighty kingdoms. Our home is in the kingdom of Avelis.

But what truly sets this world apart is something far more extraordinary—mana.

Mana is the life force that flows through everything and everyone. It’s a kind of magical energy that people use to wield the elements: fire, water, wind, and earth. Not everyone can control all the elements, and some can’t use magic at all. But for those who can, mana opens a world of limitless possibilities. At the pinnacle of these magic users are the Four Supreme Mages—individuals so powerful they are considered equal to kings in both strength and influence.

When I turned two, I began to walk on my own. Every step felt like a little victory, a small step toward growing up and unlocking whatever magic may lie within me. My sister Eryne, now five, surprised everyone when she accidentally showed signs of fire and wind magic. While reading a spellbook, she got a little too excited and ended up burning half of its pages. Our mother, Sarena, was both proud and horrified. Books in this world are rare and incredibly expensive, and losing one—even by accident—is no small thing.

Even so, our days are filled with warmth, laughter, and the quiet thrill of discovery. Life in this world is so different from the one I left behind. There’s magic in the air, mystery around every corner, and a future that seems full of wonder.

I can’t wait to grow older. I want to walk further, learn more, and one day, wield magic myself.

Time has passed in Graded—the quiet, snowy village I now call home. Winter has settled in like a heavy blanket, covering the rooftops and tree branches in glistening white. I turned five this year. It feels like an important age for some reason, like I’ve reached a small milestone in this strange new world.

I’ve started walking more efficiently now, no longer stumbling like I used to. My body is growing stronger, slowly adapting to this life. Today, something incredible happened: I saw Mother use fire magic to burn the woods for kindling. It was subtle, a small stream of flame from her hand, but it left me speechless. Fire, summoned from thin air.

Magic exists here—but it’s nothing like the overpowered fantasy spells I used to read about in manga and light novels in my old life. Here, magic is limited and grounded, deeply connected to nature and knowledge. So far, I’ve only seen elemental magic like fire, wind, and earth. Ice and lightning magic are said to exist, but no one can use them anymore. They’re like ancient legends, whispered in corners of libraries, forgotten by time.

Magic isn’t just power—it’s understanding. That’s probably why mages are called scholars in this world. You don’t just cast a spell because you want to; you need to know it. You need to study it, feel it, master it.

My sister, Eryne, is already eight. She’s different from most kids in the village—bold, confident, always dreaming big. “I’ll become the greatest mage Graded has ever seen!” she says, again and again. And honestly? She might. She already has a strong affinity for fire and wind magic, which is rare for someone her age.

This morning, I watched her from inside the house as she trained behind our cottage. Mother stood beside her, calmly instructing her like a seasoned teacher.

“Mana is like breath, Eryne,” Mother said, adjusting Eryne’s stance. “You have to feel it before you try to control it.”

Eryne grinned, and in the next moment, a small burst of flame danced from her palm.

I watched, wide-eyed, but I wasn’t just seeing fire—I felt something. A strange vibration, like the energy around us was shifting. That must have been mana, transforming into Magic.

My heart raced.

Aren — I have to learn magic as soon as possible. It’s fascinating!

I looked around, making sure no one was watching, then sat cross-legged and closed my eyes. I tried to meditate, just like those fantasy protagonists from my past life. I focused, breathing deeply.

And then… I felt it. Not just mana, but something deeper—energy that existed in everything. The chair. The walls. The trees. It was all made of different forms of energy.

Aren — So everything consists of different energy to some degree…

“Hey, what are you doing, my son?” Father asked, noticing me.

Without thinking, I shouted, “I’m going to become the most powerful person to ever exist!”

He laughed. “Sure you willlllll!”

Then Mother called him to teach Eryne the basics of swordsmanship.

That evening, when no one was around, I tried something small. I took a deep breath, focused my mind, and extended my hand toward a dry leaf on the floor.

I imagined a gentle breeze. At first—nothing.

Then, the leaf trembled.

Only a little… but it moved.

I froze.

Did I just…?

A smile slowly crept across my face.

The winter frost lingered longer than usual in Graded this year. I could see my breath fog the air each morning as I stepped outside, bundled in the woolen cloak mother stitched last summer.

"Come on, Aren!" Eryne called from the backyard, twirling a small wooden staff. "Mama said we can train today again!"

Aren : Coming Big Sister

We both standed before mother.

Mother : Today We are going to review fire magic, she said, glancing at Eryne. Then her eyes shifted to me. "And Aren, if you feel anything… just try to focus. Let it flow naturally.

Aren : Sure Mother!

Eryne grinned, already raising her hand. "Watch this!"

Eryne: "May the fire spirit bring warmth to the surrounding we live in"!

With a whoosh, a faint breeze swirled around her feet. She added a flick of fire, and the wind caught the flame, creating a small spiral of warmth.

I watched her closely — not the flame, but how the energy around her shifted. I could see it, faintly. The way mana vibrated just before transforming. That sensation… I was starting to feel it myself.

Mother told her to hold her horses and gave us a Lesson over fire magic, how we need to chant the spell before casting it for the manifestation of the magic, and why Archmages and The Supreme 4 doesn't need to chant the spell "its because of the harmony they build over there life and experience they gain by chanting the spell over thousands of time and how knowledge plays crucial role in it".

Mother said you need to study hard if you want to be be great mage and reach the level where you don't need to chant a Spell to manifest magic.

You need to be aleast 40 years old to actually cast voiceless magic, that's how long it takes to reach the level of a Court level mage usually, but if you work really hard and have exceptional talent you might reach that level around your early 30s.

Later that day, while Eryne was distracted chasing a squirrel around the garden, I closed my eyes.

Focus.

I didn't imagine fire. I didn't picture wind. I just listened — to the hum in the world, the resonance in the air.

My hand moved slightly. A strand of energy responded.

A tiny spark flickered at my fingertips. Just a spark.

But it was real.

"Whoa…"

I did it, I hid my hands as the father walked by, whistling and carrying a basket of wood.

That night, after dinner, I lay awake staring at the ceiling. Eryne had already fallen asleep, her steady breaths the only sound in the room.

I opened my hand.

That spark I had felt earlier — it wasn't just mana. There was something else in it. A different pulse. A rhythm not found in the spells mother taught us.

And I would learn it.

And Master all magic to the best of my ability.

Piece by piece.