[CC BY-NC by MCC]
A Space of Sorrow
Darkness.
Endless. Boundless. Consuming.
Marcus floated in the void, weightless, formless.
Marcus:
"It's… it's so dark."
The pain was gone.
Or maybe it was still there, buried beneath the numbness of nothingness.
Marcus:
"Is this it? Have I finally died?"
His mind raced. Don. Sofi.
Were they alright? Had the sniper struck again?
Had his sacrifice meant anything?
The thoughts swirled, growing louder, echoing back at him in the endless abyss.
Marcus:
"Where am I? How can I still be thinking? Is this the afterlife? Full of darkness?"
For what felt like an eternity, there was no answer.
Then—
A single, white dot appeared.
Like a lone star blinking in the void.
Marcus's eyes widened.
Marcus:
"Wait… I can see? My eyes… they're working?"
He blinked. He could feel his eyelids move.
The small white dot shimmered.
Then another appeared. And another.
Suddenly—the sky around him erupted into an ocean of stars.
Marcus gasped, realization settling in.
Marcus:
"What is this place? I can see so many… stars? Am I in space? Is this my soul?"
His body drifted, the sensation strange yet familiar.
Like he was floating.
But no—he wasn't in empty space. He was… swimming.
Marcus moved his arms experimentally, feeling the strange viscous substance surrounding him.
It wasn't air.
It wasn't water.
It was something else.
A feeling tugged at his soul, deep and distant.
Then—
The stars shifted.
They pulled together, bending into the shape of an eye.
A vast, luminous white eye, glowing in the cosmic darkness.
It opened.
Marcus's breath hitched.
A presence loomed over him, ancient yet unknowable.
Was this… Heaven?
Or something else entirely?
He felt the weight of everything he lost crashing down on him.
His country. His goals. His friends.
It hurt.
Tears welled up in his eyes, floating away like tiny droplets of light.
Marcus:
"I wasn't finished yet… I still had so much to do."
The eye pulsed.
Then—
Marcus felt a force pulling him forward.
The eye widened, and he was suddenly rushing toward it, dragged through an unseen current.
His body lurched forward, head-first into the light.
For a split second, everything was pure white.
Then—
POP.
Re:Born
A bright turquoise glow flooded his vision.
His head broke the surface of something warm and thick, a liquid shifting around his tiny form.
Marcus gasped, sucking in his first breath—but something felt off.
His lungs felt smaller. His body felt weaker.
His limbs felt tiny.
He blinked rapidly, his vision adjusting to the soft luminescence around him.
Glowing bottles lined the walls, casting a serene light through the room.
The air was thick with the scent of something unfamiliar—something ancient.
Marcus's thoughts slammed to a halt.
Where the hell was he?
What had just happened?
And more importantly—
Why did his hands feel so small?
A New Life Begins
A mother's cry and the sharp wail of a newborn baby echoed through the Ether Delivery Room.
Elda lay back, exhausted yet relieved, as her body shuddered from the intensity of childbirth.
Her breathing steadied, and a soft smile of victory crept onto her lips.
Elda:
"Ry… our baby!"
Her voice was breathless, but filled with warmth.
Beside her, Ryker gripped her hand tighter, his own excitement barely contained.
Ryker:
"Yes! My beautiful! We finally did it! You finally did it!"
His voice shook slightly, a mix of adrenaline, overwhelming pride, and love.
The priest, an older man clad in flowing robes adorned with intricate etheric markings, gently cradled the newborn in his arms.
The baby squirmed and wailed, his small hands grasping at the air.
The priest turned toward the new parents, his face calm yet reverent.
Priest:
"Oh, blessed couple—congratulations! It's a boy!"
For a moment, there was silence.
Then—
Ryker:
"A BOY? YA-HOOO!!!"
His entire body jolted with excitement, his deep, boisterous laugh filling the room.
He jumped like a child, fists clenched, his elation completely unrestrained.
Ryker:
"Our first baby boy, Elda!"
His eyes sparkled as he turned back to the priest.
Ryker:
"Can we hold him?"
He grinned eagerly, eyes locked onto the tiny bundle in the priest's arms.
The priest chuckled, shaking his head.
Priest:
"In due time, blessed couple. We must first perform the Ether Ritual. It will only take a moment."
Ryker nodded eagerly, his anticipation barely contained.
Ryker:
"Alright, alright! No rush—take your time. Elda, rest for a bit, I got this!"
Elda, still catching her breath, smiled fondly at her husband's enthusiasm.
Elda:
"You're more excited than the baby, Ry."
Ryker beamed, clearly unbothered by the comment.
The Ether Ritual
The priest carefully carried the crying newborn over to a small, earthen bathtub carved directly into the floor.
A nurse approached, carrying a sealed vial filled with glowing turquoise liquid.
She uncorked it, and the room was immediately filled with a soft, soothing energy.
The priest poured the Ether slowly over the baby's tiny form, washing away the remnants of blood and fluid from the birth.
The moment the liquid touched the infant's skin, a faint glow pulsed across his body.
The baby twitched, his cries momentarily stopping, as though he had just felt something… profound.
A connection.
A link between himself and the world's mana.
The priest continued gently cleansing the baby, ensuring every drop of Ether seeped into his pores.
Slowly—the crying subsided.
The newborn relaxed in the shallow bath, his tiny hands floating weightlessly.
Priest:
"The connection is formed. The ritual is complete."
Lifting the baby out, the priest wrapped him in a soft cloth, drying him completely.
With great care, he turned and presented him to his parents.
Priest:
"Mr. and Mrs. Redimir—I bring to you your new son."
First Moments
Elda's eyes glistened as she reached out.
Elda:
"He's… so small."
Her fingers brushed against his soft cheek, and the baby twitched slightly at her touch.
She let out a tired laugh, pressing her forehead gently against the infant's.
Elda:
"Ry, look at him… he's perfect."
Ryker, still brimming with excitement, crouched beside her.
He grinned, reaching out with one finger—
And the baby immediately grabbed it.
Ryker froze.
Then grinned even wider.
Ryker:
"Oh-ho! What a strong grip he has! Such a fighter!"
He chuckled, watching his son's tiny fingers cling to him with surprising strength.
His laughter softened, his voice dropping into something more gentle, more tender.
Ryker:
"And look—he has both our hair colors!"
His hand brushed through the baby's tiny strands, his dark hair intertwined with a soft golden twirl.
Elda's eyes widened slightly.
Elda:
"Oh my… you're right. He really does!"
She turned back to Ryker, her smile warm, radiant.
Elda:
"What shall we name him?"
Ryker paused, stroking his chin in thought.
Then, his eyes lit up.
Ryker:
"It would be nice to have another 'Ry' in the family, to take care of you too!"
His grin softened into something full of love and pride.
Ryker:
"How's about… Ryfel?"
Elda laughed softly, the name rolling off her tongue.
She gazed back down at their son, her heart full.
Elda:
"Ryfel… I like it."
She kissed the baby's forehead gently, whispering with love.
Elda:
"Hello, my sweet little Ryfel Redimir. Welcome to our family."
A New Mind in an Infant's Body
Inside the newborn's mind, chaos reigned.
His consciousness surged, thoughts crashing into each other like violent waves in a storm.
This wasn't instinct.
This wasn't a newborn's blank slate.
This was the mind of a man—Marcus Seneca's mind.
Marcus (Thinking):
"What… what the hell just happened?!"
His body felt wrong.
His limbs were weak. Tiny.
The voices around him sounded foreign, their words unintelligible.
The air was thick, carrying a scent that was not the sterile cleanliness of a hospital.
His eyes, though unfocused, took in flickering lantern lights, stone walls, and wooden beams—
None of it felt right.
Marcus (Thinking):
"Where am I?! This… this isn't America!"
Panic clawed at his mind.
The architecture, the robes people were wearing, the way they spoke—
Nothing resembled modern civilization.
There were no machines, no beeping monitors, no doctors in white coats.
This wasn't a hospital.
This wasn't even the right century.
Marcus (Thinking):
"I'm not in a hospital, I'm not in America… WHERE THE HELL AM I?"
His body squirmed, his tiny hands clenching instinctively as he tried to move.
But all that came out was—
A baby's cry.
A Horrifying Realization
Marcus's heart pounded, but his body betrayed him.
His head bobbed weakly, barely able to lift itself.
A pair of arms cradled him gently—a woman's arms.
His mother?
His mind raced, trying to process everything.
Marcus:
"I don't understand what they're saying… and what the hell was that bath?!"
The glowing liquid still clung to his skin, leaving behind a tingling warmth.
Marcus (Pondering):
"Shining Shampoo? What the—wait no—focus!"
His thoughts derailed even further as he realized something even worse.
His tiny hands twitched.
His fingers were stubby. Weak.
His limbs barely worked.
Marcus (Thinking):
"No… No, no, no—"
And then—
His breath caught.
The moment of true horror arrived.
Marcus (Shocked):
"Wait… the light I came out from that looked like I was at the end of a tunnel—that was a…VAGINA?!"
His baby face twisted slightly, a mixture of existential panic and sheer disbelief.
And then—a shadow loomed over him.
The priest.
Marcus's instincts kicked in, his Navy-trained mind still wired for danger.
Marcus:
"Shit! Is he trying to attack me?! BLOCK—wait, why is he smiling?"
The priest raised a small pouch in his hands.
Marcus:
"Wait, what is that—?"
Before he could process anything else—
A fine dust rained down onto his tiny face.
His body immediately relaxed.
His limbs stopped twitching.
His thoughts screamed in protest.
Marcus:
"Wait! No! I still have questions—don't you dare make me sleep—"
His vision blurred.
His tiny body grew heavier.
The darkness returned.
A New Home
The journey back to the Redimir Estate was slow and peaceful.
Ryker pushed Elda's wheelchair with one hand, his other hand resting protectively on her shoulder. She cradled newborn Ryfel, swaddled snugly in soft cloth, his tiny chest rising and falling with gentle breaths.
Before them stood their home—a simple yet elegant manor, its stone and wood construction sturdy yet welcoming.
The floor was a mix of hardened clay and stone, designed to retain warmth through the seasons.
Beyond the manor, trees and lush greenery stretched across the land, their vast farmland expanding for hundreds of meters, their neighbors' homes dotted in the distance.
A tall stone wall enclosed their estate, a sign of both protection and prosperity.
And at the entrance, carved into polished oak, stood their family crest and title:
"Lord Redimir, Count of the Farmland District."
Ryker stopped before the door, taking a deep breath.
He stepped forward and raised his palm.
The earthen locks shifted, moving in perfect harmony, each mechanism clicking open with an almost musical rhythm.
With a gentle push of his palm, the sealed door unlocked fully, swinging open on its own.
With a final motion, he lifted his hand, and the earth beneath them shifted, forming a smooth ramp leading inside.
As they entered, a familiar face greeted them at the door.
A young maid with auburn hair and bright green eyes, her uniform neatly pressed, her expression beaming with warmth.
Milal:
"Good evening, Count and Countess! Congratulations on your newborn son!"
She bowed deeply, her voice genuinely happy.
Ryker:
"Hoho! Good evening to you too, Milal!"
He grinned widely, his usual boisterous energy returning.
Ryker:
"The birth was a beautiful success! Look at my stunning wife—and my handsome son!"
He posed dramatically, showcasing his family like a proud merchant advertising his finest goods.
Elda chuckled tiredly, shaking her head.
Elda:
"Now, now, Ry. As excited as I am, the priest said we need to rest."
She turned to Milal with a gentle smile.
Elda:
"Thank you so much for taking care of our home while we were away. Would you mind preparing our bed and setting up Ryfel's room before you leave?"
Milal nodded immediately.
Milal:
"Of course, Your Countess! Your rooms have already been prepared, with your son's nursery just next to the master bedroom.
A warm meal has also been set inside for both of you, and I've prepared grain porridge with milk for Little Ry."
Elda:
"Splendid. You are truly a lifesaver, Milal. Thank you. We'll see you again tomorrow—enjoy the rest of your evening."
Milal bowed deeply, smiling.
Milal (all smiles):
"It is my joy and pleasure to serve the Count and Countess! I shall see you tomorrow!"
As she turned to leave, Ryker gave her a squinted look, his brows lifting mischievously.
With a subtle tilt of his head, he silently mouthed something to her.
Ryker (eyebrows wiggling):
"Is it… doneeee?"
Milal smirked slightly, her expression cheeky and knowing.
She gave a quick hidden thumbs-up before gracefully stepping out the door.
Ryker chuckled to himself, shaking his head in amusement as he waved his hand once more.
The door closed behind her, the locks sealing shut.
Ryker turned to Elda, his voice softening.
Ryker:
"Alright, my dear, let me take both of you to the rooms behind."
He bent down, gently lifting Elda into his arms, carrying her with effortless strength.
She sighed contently, resting against his chest, still cradling their newborn.
The house was warm, the air filled with the rich scent of baked bread and simmering soup.
As Ryker stepped into the master bedroom, Elda sighed happily.
Elda:
"Mmm… that smells delightful. Thank you, Ry, for carrying me."
Her fingers lightly traced his chest, a habit of affection whenever he held her.
Elda:
"I'll have a small meal to regain my strength… Please make a nice crib for Ryfel in the next room."
Ryker nodded, kissing her forehead.
Ryker:
"Of course, my dear."
He placed her gently onto the bed, tucking the blankets around her as she settled in for her first meal as a mother.
Then, holding Ryfel securely in one arm, he made his way into the empty nursery next door.
Crafting a Gift from the Father
Ryker stopped in the middle of the room, surveying the bare space.
His expression shifted, turning thoughtful, almost reverent.
His firstborn son deserved a proper cradle—not just something bought or built by ordinary hands.
No.
This would be his first gift as a father.
With a slow inhale, Ryker closed his eyes.
His bare foot tapped against the clay floor.
The earth beneath him responded instantly—like an extension of his own will.
He whispered to himself.
Ryker:
"Hmmm… The first layer should be a solid rectangle, followed by some strong bars… A straight, balanced bottom—not too hard, not too soft… and four sturdy legs."
With his right arm cradling Ryfel, his left hand stretched forward—
And the ground obeyed.
The earth shifted and molded, rising in smooth, precise formations.
The crib began to take shape, each section forming seamlessly under Ryker's control.
A solid foundation, bars strong yet elegant, the finishing touches refined with careful precision.
It wasn't just a crib.
It was a father's promise.
A promise to protect, provide, and guide.
Satisfied, Ryker gave a few testing flicks against the bars, nodding in approval.
With his free hand, he took the softest prepared cloths, shaping them into a comfy sheet to line the cradle.
Finally, he looked down at his son.
Ryfel was tiny, his delicate features bathed in the golden glow of the room's lanterns.
His tiny chest rose and fell steadily, his soft breaths barely audible.
So small. So fragile.
Yet, even as an infant, there was something strong about him.
Something Ryker couldn't quite explain.
He smiled lovingly, pressing a gentle kiss to Ryfel's forehead.
Ryker:
"Rest well, my child."
With utmost care, he laid him down, ensuring he was safe, warm, and at peace.
As the night enveloped the Redimir home, Ryker took one last look at his family—
His heart fuller than ever before.
A New Discovery
The master bedroom was bathed in the warm glow of lantern light, casting soft shadows over the walls.
Ryker strolled back in, stretching his arms as he rejoined Elda on the bed. The couple sat together, sharing a simple yet hearty meal, enjoying their first quiet moment after the long day.
As they finished, Elda let out a content sigh, resting against the pillows.
Ryker carefully placed the tray on his bedside table, ensuring Milal would clear it in the morning.
Then, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he reached beneath the table, retrieving a small, stone-crafted object.
He grinned widely, turning toward Elda.
Ryker:
"El-Dear, my love, I have prepared something special for you—something to help you sleep better."
Elda, half-asleep already, peered up at him curiously.
Elda:
"Oh? What is it?"
With dramatic flair, Ryker presented the object.
A smoothly carved stone massager, embedded with tiny mana veins, designed to knead away tension.
Ryker:
"A magic-crafted massager for your sore, aching body! A gift from me to you!"
He wiggled his eyebrows.
Elda:
"Oooo… that does sound nice. My back and hips are quite sore right now… could you kindly?"
Her voice was soft and drowsy, her body already relaxing at the thought.
Ryker:
"Absolutely, my dear."
Taking the massager, Ryker gently pressed it against her back, activating the soft mana-infused vibrations.
Elda let out a low moan of relief, melting into the pillows.
Elda:
"Mmm… that's really nice. Thank you, Ry. It's comforting to know you take such good care of me."
Her voice grew fainter, her eyelids fluttering.
She was drifting off.
But Ryker—
Ryker was panicking.
His hands continued kneading her back, but his mind was racing.
Ryker (Thinking):
"Oh nuts… was this a bad time?!"
His eyes twitched, beads of sweat forming at his temples.
For months, he had been waiting for this day—waiting for the moment when Elda would finally recover, when she would finally be his again.
But now, she was falling asleep.
And his chances were slipping away.
Ryker (Thinking):
"Crap, I have been holding back for so long! It's been MONTHS! With the pregnancy blocking me, I thought tonight would be the night!"
His thoughts spiraled into madness.
But then—
An idea struck.
A brilliant, completely logical, flawless idea.
The Special Feature
Ryker focused his mana, shifting his grip on the stone massager.
Using his earth magic, he activated the special feature he had secretly designed.
A subtle, gentle vibration.
Slowly, he guided the massager lower.
If he could just ease her body toward something more—
A sharp pain shot through Elda's body.
Her eyes snapped open.
Elda:
"Mmmh… Ry, stop… not today, it really hurts."
Ryker froze.
His entire brain collapsed in on itself.
But all he heard—
Was her moans.
And his lust-driven madnesscompletely misinterpreted her words.
Ryker (Thinking):
"Oh? She's moaning? She must be enjoying this… maybe just a little more—"
Elda jerked upright.
Her voice sharpened—
Elda:
"OW! OW! RYKER!"
She snatched the massager from his hands—
And BONK.
She slammed it against his forehead.
Ryker yelped, clutching his head in pain and absolute regret.
Elda:
"WHAT IN THE WORLD ARE YOU DOING?!"
Ryker sat paralyzed, looking like a guilty dog who had been caught chewing furniture.
DENIED
Elda pointed the massager at him like a judge passing a death sentence.
Elda:
"Rykerven Ferma Redimir! I understand that you are horny and have been waiting for months, and honestly, I commend your patience. But I JUST. GAVE. BIRTH. TODAY!"
Ryker winced, nodding rapidly in silent apology.
Elda:
"A BABY. A LITERAL BABY just came out of me! Do you think I'm ready for that yet?!"
She narrowed her eyes.
Elda:
"Even though you are… quite big, you CANNOT compare to the size of a baby. And let me remind you—I AM IN CONSTANT PAIN RIGHT NOW."
Ryker's soul shrank into itself.
He vigorously nodded, repenting for his sins.
She sighed, rubbing her temples.
Elda:
"Besides, I made sure Milal was available to fulfill your needs these past months. Is that not enough for you?"
Ryker fidgeted, looking away.
Ryker:
"I am truly sorry, my love… If anything, I hope Ryfel learns to grow up as a strong, powerful magic user for our farmlands—and not like this."
His eyes turned into the saddest puppy-dog gaze.
Elda huffed, crossing her arms.
Elda:
"Hmph! You know I'm weak to that look, so I'm just not going to look at you."
She turned away, facing the wall.
Elda:
"Though… you are right about one thing."
She paused, her voice softening slightly.
Elda:
"I want him to learn magic as fast as possible, especially our House's specialty in earth magic for farming."
She let out a deep sigh.
Elda:
"Yes, in all seriousness, I was hoping to discuss with you about our future plans—for both the District and for Ryfel. He truly is the hope we have to regain our District's former glory."
Ryker nodded, his expression turning thoughtful.
Ryker:
"You're right. We'll make sure he's raised well, trained well, and—"
A Curious Infant
Ryfel's eyes fluttered open.
The commotion from the master bedroom had roused him from his slumber.
He lay in his crib, his tiny hands fidgeting instinctively.
His newborn mind was already buzzing with thoughts.
Ryfel (Thinking):
"Where… am I?"
He looked around, his baby vision adjusting to the dim light.
The room's architecture caught his attention first.
Stone walls. Wooden beams. A flickering lantern.
Medieval.
It looked completely medieval.
His gaze drifted to his own body—his tiny hands, his stubby fingers.
His tiny naked baby form.
His mind screamed internally.
Ryfel (Thinking):
"I'm… reborn?!"
He slumped down, sighing.
Ryfel (Thinking):
"I can't dwell on my old life right now. I need to understand where I am… what kind of world this is."
He recalled the bath he had been given earlier.
The glowing liquid had seeped into his skin, leaving behind a strange sensation.
A flow.
A presence.
He raised a chubby hand, breathing in deeply.
The air around his fingers moved.
A gentle puff of wind swirled, brushing against his face.
His baby eyes widened.
Ryfel (Thinking):
"What… what was that?! Did I just… control the air?!"
He turned to his crib bars, pushing against them.
SNAP.
The stone cracked like twigs.
His baby hands clenched, and the pieces crumbled to dust.
Ryfel (Thinking):
"WHAT THE—DO I HAVE SUPER STRENGTH TOO?!"
The Revelation
The sound of the snap caught Ryker and Elda's attention.
Their argument stopped immediately.
Elda turned to Ryker, eyes wide.
Elda:
"Did you hear that?"
Ryker nodded slowly.
They exchanged looks.
Then—
Ryker:
"I think… Little Ry is awake."
He turned toward the nursery, his heartbeat quickening.
As he stepped inside—
His eyes landed on Ryfel.
And the shattered crib around him.
His jaw dropped.
Ryker:
"OH MY GOODNESS!"
His shout startled Elda, who tried to sit up in alarm.
Elda:
"What happened?! Is Ryfel okay?!"
Ryker marched back into the room, holding Ryfel high in the air.
His voice rang with pure astonishment.
Ryker:
"OUR SON—OUR SON JUST USED EARTH MAGIC???"