Chapter 1.1
The world was cruel, and ****** knew it well.
He was an illegal worker, living in the shadows, scraping by on whatever he could steal. Desperation had driven him to many things, but never had he seen anything like this.
The house was supposed to be empty. It was a simple job—get in, grab valuables, and leave. But as he stepped inside, his stomach twisted.
Men in suits sat around a table, their faces hidden beneath the haze of cigar smoke. Cards lay scattered, mingled with strange substances he didn't recognize. His pulse quickened.
Then he saw them.
Bodies. Motionless. Lifeless.
His breath hitched. Blood pooled across the floor, staining the lavish rug beneath their feet. He took a step back, heart hammering in his chest.
This was bad. Worse than anything before.
A shiver ran down his spine as he turned to escape—
BANG!
A gunshot rang out.
A sharp pain exploded in his chest. His legs faltered, his breath came in ragged gasps. His vision blurred. The world tilted.
Darkness swallowed him whole.
He woke up, cradled by something soft, yet cold. The scent of earth filled his nostrils. He groaned, trying to move—
But something was wrong.
Wha… what just happened? Why do I feel so small?
Leaves rustled. Shadows shifted.
From the darkness, three wolves emerged, their eyes gleaming with hunger.
I don't even know what to do… I can't move properly…
His body felt weak, fragile. He tried to lift his arms, to fend them off, but—
Tiny hands.
Panic surged through him. He stared at his fingers—small, pudgy, trembling.
I'm… a baby?
Terror gripped him. Overwhelmed, he did the only thing his body allowed him to do.
He cried.
A moment later, hurried footsteps echoed through the woods. The wolves stiffened, their ears twitching. Then, as if sensing something unseen, they turned and fled into the shadows.
A lone figure stepped forward.
An elf.
His face was lined with years of hardship, his clothes ragged, reeking of the road. Yet his sharp eyes softened as he gazed down at the infant.
"Oh? What are you doing here, my child?" The elf knelt, brushing aside the leaves. "Such a precious soul, left alone in the bushes."
He reached out, cradling the child gently in his arms.
The baby sniffled, looking up at him with confusion and wariness.
And he stinks.
Chapter 1.2: New Life
For the past three weeks…
I had been taken care of by the old elf.
He gave me a name—Leafven Cristoffer. Not exactly what I would've chosen, but whatever.
I also got to know him better. His name was Arin Cristoffer. I was wrong to judge him at first glance—he wasn't just some strange old man. Turns out, he worked as a mechanic. Not exactly what you'd expect from an elf, but sure. Maybe he was just getting home from work when I first met him. That's probably why he stank.
But something felt… off.
Whenever other elves passed by the house, they always stared.
Stranger Elf 1: "I feel like… not just an elf lives there."
Stranger Elf 2: "Yeah, I can feel it too."
Then they walked away.
(Elves can sense if another elf is nearby—and they can tell who is with them.)
I watched from the window, frowning.
(What's their problem? So nosy. Why did I even expect anything different? Human or elf, people always have something to gossip about.)
Wait… why am I even thinking about this so much?
(Whatever. This is my new life. I just have to take care of myself.)
Chaptet 1.3 What's Behind That
I guess I just turned five months old. Not that I really know for sure.
Besides… who would throw a kid into a bush?
The old elf isn't home right now. Maybe I should explore the house a bit.
I started moving around—well, more like crawling everywhere.
Then, I saw it.
A staircase… leading down.
(What's behind that darkness?)
I'm a grown-up… but I still feel scared.
Wait, no. This body is a kid. I'm the grown-up. And yet, I can't even stand properly.
(Forget it. I'll just head to the bedroom.)
I crawled my way inside and settled in.
(I think I'll just rest while that old guy is at work.)
I don't know how, but I always feel sleepy. Maybe because I'm only five mont—
And then, I slept.
Chapter 1.4 Is That Magic?
At ten months old, I was already running around the house—not very well, though. I kept falling. I guess I trained this skill in my past life… after all, I used to run from the cops.
After baths, while still wet, I would dash through the house, making the old elf chase me. We had so much fun.
I also started to understand something… this old elf was alone. I don't know since when, but he just is.
The next day, we sat outside. The old elf carried me to the front of the house, just enjoying the fresh air.
Nearby, a couple of young elves were talking.
Kid Elf 1: "Hey, you should teach me that spell again—the air push!"
Kid Elf 2: "You really want it? Alright, I will."
Kid Elf 2: "So, you need to raise your hand and focus. Focus all your energy into your fingertips. Then say this: From the palm of my hand, let this air come out of me."
Kid Elf 1: "Okay, I'll try!"
Kid Elf 1: "From the palm of my hand, let this air come out of me!"
A small burst of air shot forward.
Kid Elf 1: "I did it! I did it!"
I wasn't even shocked to see magic in this world. But seeing a kid do it? That surprised me. And it needed some kind of chant?
I'll probably try it tomorrow when the old man is out.
I'm a Spell Caster!
The next day, the old elf left for work.
I was alone again.
This was my chance to practice what those elf kids did.
Since I can't speak clearly because of my age, this might be tough… but I have to try.
Leafven: "Frum… the pa—lm of… your hand… let this… air cum… out of f—rom me!"
A tiny burst of air flickered in front of me.
I stared, wide-eyed.
Leafven: "Y-yesh! I dib it!"
Whoo! I'm a spell caster!
But… why do I feel so dizzy…?
My vision blurred, and before I knew it—I was asleep.
Chapter 1.5
The Basement
After passing out from casting my first spell, I woke up feeling recharged.
Maybe this is mana… and I ran out of it because I'm only ten months old?
I stumbled my way inside the house, trying
to regain my consciousness.
That's when I saw it again—the basement.
With my extensive knowledge of magic (aka one spell that completely drained me), I
wasn't exactly confident. But I still wanted to explore.
I took my first step onto the staircase… and immediately slipped.
"Oh damn it!"
I spun round and round, tumbling down the stairs until I hit the wooden floor with a loud thud.
And then… I cried like a baby.
"Whaaa! Whaaa! Uwhaaa!"
Wait. Why am I even crying? No one's coming to help me.
I sniffled, shook it off, and stood up.
"Thank god the floor is wood… but that still hurt. And I feel dizzy."
Raising both my arms like a makeshift radar,
I cautiously walked forward.
The basement was dark, and I couldn't see a thing.
Then—my fingers brushed against something familiar.
"Wait… could this be… a switch?!"
I pressed it.
Click.
The entire basement lit up.
And oh boy… this place looked beautiful!
Chapter 1.6
The Basement
With a click, the basement lit up.
I blinked, staring at the glowing bulbs
hanging from the ceiling. How…?
Light bulbs. Actual bulbs. Not candles, not oil lamps—real, working light bulbs.
How did that old elf build something like this?
I walked forward, looking closer. Inside each
bulb, something shimmered—a glowing gemstone.
Were these gems powering the lights? That would explain why they didn't flicker like normal flames.
I knew he was a mechanic, but this... This isn't just simple tinkering. This is something else.
The basement itself was massive. Stacks of
crates, scattered tools, and workbenches covered in gears and metal scraps filled the room.
The air smelled like old wood and something faintly metallic.
Curiosity took over. I reached out, running my fingers along one of the crates.
I should be careful.
Who knows what kind of stuff is down here? One wrong move, and I might burn the whole house down.
Still, I couldn't help myself. I walked deeper, my tiny hands brushing against strange objects.
Then—thud.
I stumbled into something big.
A large wooden box. Unlike the other crates, this one looked… different.
The wood was smoother, polished, and reinforced with thick metal edges.
It had strange carvings on its surface—symbols I didn't recognize.
A cold shiver ran down my spine.
What is this…?
I reached out, my small fingers grazing the markings—
Then, the box hummed.
And the air around me changed.
Chapter 1.7 – The Basement
The box was huge, towering over my tiny frame. Is there something inside…?
I pressed my small hands against the lid and pushed with all my strength.
Nothing. It wouldn't budge.
Huh? My fingers scrambled along the edges, searching for a way to open it. Then, in the middle, I saw it—a keyhole.
So I need a key? A grin crept onto my baby face. Alright, then. Time to find it!
I started my search, rummaging through boxes, peeking inside crates, overturning anything I could reach.
Nothing.
I searched over and over, growing more frustrated with every second. Where is it?!
Then—
creak—the sound of the basement door opening from above.
Damn! My tiny feet scrambled toward the switch. I flicked it off, plunging the basement into darkness. Then I turned, rushing toward the staircase—
And slipped.
Oh no...
Once again, I tumbled down the wooden stairs, spinning, flipping, before crashing onto the floor below.
Pain shot through my tiny body, and I did the only thing I could do.
I cried. Loudly.
Footsteps echoed down the stairs, and soon, the old elf stood over me.
Arin: "How pitiful… Don't cry anymore."
I wasn't crying because of the fall—well, maybe a little—but because, after all that searching, I finally saw it.
The key.
Tied to Arin's belt.
As he picked me up, I sighed in defeat. Exhaustion took over, and before I knew it, I drifted into sleep.
Chapter End.
Chapter 1.8 – Book of Spells
It had been five months since that day—the first time my heart was broken.
Ever since, I'd been tagging along with Arin whenever he went to work.
Now, I'm one year and three months old.
And honestly? This sucks. I still can't explore that basement.
Today, Arin and I traveled to a nearby town, where he displayed his latest creations. He carefully set them out on the ground for everyone to see.
His inventions were impressive, as always.
Among them were the light bulbs—those with embedded gems. Nobles and buyers eagerly gathered to purchase them. No wonder Arin could afford such a comfortable life for the both of us.
The day dragged on. Eventually, everything was sold. Boring.
Just as we were about to leave, a struggling merchant caught our eye.
His stall wasn't doing well. But among the dusty trinkets and overlooked wares, I spotted something that made my tiny heart race—books.
I couldn't help myself. Excitement surged through me, and I jumped—
Only to land face-first on the ground.
Pain shot through me, and I did what any self-respecting toddler would do.
I cried.
The merchant looked down, surprised. Then, gently, he placed his hand over my face.
Arin: "Oh no…"
Merchant: "Oh my, let me help you."
Warmth spread through me as he chanted softly:
"From the help from above, let this pleasing soul heal."
The pain faded, melting away like ice in the sun. I blinked up at him, wide-eyed.
Leafven: "Huw! Plis tich me!"
Merchant: "Sorry, kid. I can't."
He gestured to the books behind him.
"But I have some that might help. Though, I'm not sure if your grandpa will approve."
Arin hesitated, uncertainty flickering in his eyes.
Time to pull out the big guns.
I gave him the cutest, most pleading look I could manage—one of the perks of being a baby.
He sighed… then smiled.
And he bought the book for me.
As we headed home, I hugged it tight. My smile never faded.
This was it—my first real step into the world of magic.
Chapter End.
Here's a polished version of Chapter 1.9 while keeping the charm and tone of your original writing:
Chapter 1.9 – The Language of Magic
The next day, I opened the book.
It was filled with words.
But… I couldn't read them.
I knew how to read. I'd picked it up by watching the elves talk and by listening to Arin speak to his customers.
But this... I didn't understand any of it.
I picked up the book and walked slowly, my face downcast and sad.
Arin, who was preparing breakfast, noticed right away.
Arin: "What's the matter, Leafven?"
I looked up at him, pouty and defeated.
Leafven: "No… nothin' really."
He gently took the book from my tiny arms and flipped through it.
He immediately understood.
Arin: "You're having a hard time reading this language, aren't you?"
He smiled and knelt beside me.
Arin: "Don't worry. If you flip about 50 more pages, you'll find the section written in your language. This book only contains 30 to 40 spells, but it's thick because it includes translations for several different languages."
He handed the book back to me.
I flipped through eagerly… and then—there it was. My language.
Tears of joy welled up in my eyes as I finally began to read.
I ran outside, nearly tripping over the doorframe in my excitement.
I tested a few of the spells right away.
But nothing happened.
My mana was too low. I couldn't even cast one spell.
Still, I held the book tight.
Someday… I'll cast them all.
Chapter End