It was midsummer, about a month after Amelia’s birthday. When she experienced the harsh reality of turning six years old. It genuinely came out of nowhere, it was a normal day. Amelia and I were just playing outside, Lydia was watering the plants, like usual. While Elijah put away the leftover wood for the fireplace. 

All of this was happening simultaneously, like any other day. What triggered it? I don’t know. She just stopped suddenly, like time froze for her. I obviously didn’t understand what was happening until I saw her eyes roll back and her legs give out. 

I wasn’t fast enough to catch her but I did stop her head from hitting the ground at least. “Amelia?” I whispered, this cold chill running through my body, what happened? Placing my hand on her wrist, I had to make sure she was still alive before I ran to get one of our parents. 

“I’ll be back,” I said, turning around to run back to our house. “Dad!” I shouted, running as fast as I could. “Mom!” I nearly stumbled over my own feet. My dad turned around grabbing my shoulders before I crashed into him. “What's wrong?” he asked, looking around for what I could assume was Amelia. “Where is your sister?” 

“She— She’s— She passed out, I don’t— She’s over there,'' I pointed behind me. Amelia's blonde hair wasn’t that hard to miss. With a nod my father stood up; concern being the only thing I saw in his eyes. 

“Lotus, come here,” Lydia said, kneeling down so she was near my height. A soft smile on her face as I was lifted from the ground. “Calm down, she’ll be okay.” calm down? I just saw her pass out, how are you so calm about this? 

Heading inside, Lydia went straight to the kitchen, placing me down on the floor. “Lotus go grab the bucket for mommy,” the bucket? Confused, I did as I was told, hearing the faucet turn on even though my mom wasn’t anywhere near it. 

Is she using magic in the house? 

Walking over, my mom tossed a towel over her shoulder while I carried a bucket over to the sink. “Thank you,” she grabbed it, filling it up with water before tossing the towel in. 

What is going on? 

“Is this too cold?” she asked, holding the damp towel down for me and I shook my head, “no, it’s warm.” 

Humming, she grabbed the bucket and headed out of the kitchen, me trailing behind her. “Lotus, grab a pillow for your sister.” A pillow? Why? Turning around I walked behind the couch, grabbing one of the pillows my mom threw off the day before. 

The door opened when I placed the pillow down on the couch. My father stepped inside, Amelia unconscious in his arms. “How is she?” my mom asked immediately. “She’s fine, Lotus, go to your room.” 

“What? Why? I wanna help,” my brows knitted together, as that cold chill ran down my body again. “We know but you could get sick. I’m sorry sweetheart but go to your room.” Glancing between them, I slowly turned around to head to my room. 

How would I get sick from whatever's going on? She just passed out. 

Once my door shut behind me, either my mom or dad ran down the hall. “What is going on out there?” Turning back around I peeked through the crack I made. What is that? My mom was holding a tube of blue liquid in her hands when she passed my room. 

After that it was quiet for some time. No one came by my room and every once in a while, I’d hear water splashing or the light muttering of my parents talking. Though I couldn’t make out anything that was said. 

The only real thing I heard was my mother saying, “it’s not her… thank the divine god.” 

“Weird.” 

Pressing my ear to the door, I tried to listen for anything else they could possibly say but it was just silent. The only thing I could actually hear was the shuffling of feet and water running. Yet there was nothing from my sister, is she still unconscious? 

After some time of silence the door knob to my room wiggled and I immediately ran to my bed, grabbing a book on the little table. The door opened while I flipped to a random page. Lifting my head, my father walked inside the room. 

He looks terrible. 

With an exhausted sigh he sat down next to me, glancing over at the page I was on. I have no clue what book I grabbed. Is this even age appropriate? Shifting my eyes slightly, I looked over at him, not saying a word or moving my head. 

Why did he come in here? 

“What are you reading?” he asked suddenly. Knitting my brows together I lifted the back of the book, I haven't a clue. I answered his question with a shrug, showing him the book cover. “Do you like foxes?” he chuckled, his body seeming to relax bit by bit as he looked over at my stack of books. As of lately, I guess I’ve seen them as interesting. Nodding, I smiled a bit at his question. 

“You know foxes are divine animals with amazing power.” I know, I watched some shows about foxes in my past life. Though they were usually shown as demons. When I didn’t speak up he looked at me with worry in his eyes, it vanished the moment he realized I was looking at him. 

“You’re so quiet compared to your sister,” he whispered. Is that a bad thing? Placing his hand on my head he smiled at me, “if something ever happens, just remember that your family will always try their best to protect you and find you wherever you are.” 

Huh? Why would you say that? 

“Is something going to happen to me?” He hummed in response to my question and shook his head, “no, nothing will ever happen to you. As long as I’m here you’re always safe.” 

It was quiet for some time after he said that. I allowed those words to sink in, repeat in my mind over and over. He sounded genuine when he said that, I mean of course he was, I’m his son, he should mean it. 

What if he finds out I was reincarnated? Would he be upset that I’m not actually his son? Would he abandon me like my other parents did? Will I end up alone again?

“Lotus?” blinking a few times, I looked up at him again, “yes sir?” 

“Did you hear me? I asked if you wanted to help me prepare dinner?” Oh, “Uh— yes, I’m coming.” I quickly got to my feet, placing the book down to follow him out of the room. 

Walking into the living room, neither my mom or my sister was anywhere to be found. “Where is everyone?” Glancing around it was completely silent which I found weird, because Amelia is never really quiet. 

“Your sister is sleeping, and your mother is with her right now.” Oh, is Amelia sick? 

“Lotus, grab a big bowl.” 

As we waited for Amelia to wake up, my father taught me how to hold a sword. Even though I was only two years old he took the lessons very seriously. He taught me how to stand with a sword so “I’d never lose to my sister again.” At least that’s the excuse he was giving me. 

Basic movement was pretty easy if my body listened to me. The first few weeks of Amelia sleeping I wasn’t allowed to go into her room or go near it. Well not just the first few, I’m still not allowed. Though every night when I left my room to go use the bathroom, there were strange purple lights coming from her room. 

Being scared by the presence, I avoided going in that direction for a while. It wasn’t because I was a coward, though that is a factor, it was just overpowering that I physically could not go in that direction. 

My curiosity always got the best of me, naturally. I always attempted but the pressure almost always forced me to turn back around. It was different for my parents though. They could walk right in with no problem. Was it because I had no magic? Is my body too weak to handle magic even if I have none of my own? 

“Lotus, have you been feeling anything odd lately?” Elijah asked as I pulled the last piece of wood into the fireplace, “no sir.” He nodded, throwing a small ball of fire into the pit. “Didn’t I say stop using magic in the house until Amelia wakes up!” 

Flinching, I glanced at Elijah who side-eyed me as he muttered a quiet, “sorry dear.” I tried my best to suppress the laugh that wanted to come out. “Lotus, go clean your room before I throw everything away.” 

“Yes ma’am,” I whispered, turning around, heading to my room. 

It’s not even that much stuff on the ground. Frowning, I grabbed my books flipping through the pages while putting them away. “A mage mark is equivalent to a birthmark that’s shared through similar bloodlines… it may never be in the same place as the parents… it will be somewhere visible on the body… it only shows up after the awakening process begins…” humming I closed the book, placing it on the table, grabbing another to stack it on top. 

Tilting my head, I read the open book on the floor, kicking another off the covered page. “...the seed of mana is located in the center of the body… which allows the roots to take form and travel along the body…” and open the tunnels of magic… I continued reading, picking up the book I kicked.

“Lotus when you're done can—” with a book in my hand I turned my head towards Elijah, “Oh, your room was actually dirty, nevermind. Finish up.” 

It’s not that bad! 

Grabbing the books I stacked them on top of each other. Some of the books were stacked on the floor because I wasn’t tall enough to put them all on the table. My family has gotten used to me collecting books so they don’t really question it. They just assume I like colorful pages. Some of the books they never notice are missing since they don’t ever use them. 

Letting out a soft breath, I sat down on my bed looking at my now clean room. It wasn’t that dirty. Don’t look at me like that, I’m trying to convince myself that it wasn’t as dirty as they make it out to be. 

It’s so quiet without Amelia around. I miss her. 

“Lotus!” my hands ran down my face as I sighed, pushing myself to my feet. What now? Walking out the door I headed in the direction of my mothers voice. 

“Ye—” 

“Did you do this?” Do what? Walking farther into the kitchen there was a bowl of ice and random flavors I put together yesterday cause it was hot outside, it actually froze, that’s impressive. I didn’t think it would work. Me being amazed it actually worked wasn’t the same look my mom was giving me. 

If I’m honest maybe she’ll be less angry.  

“No,” damnit Lotus. “Then who did?” she arched a brow and I averted my gaze, who should I blame it on? Hearing footsteps, I turned slightly and pointed at my father, “he did.” 

“What?” play along, she won’t yell at you if you say it is a recipe gone wrong. “Would you care to explain the mess in this bowl?” She turned her attention to my father. Elijah walked forward, looking inside the container as I tried to sneak away, “where are you going?” 

Biting my top lip I pointed behind me, “I gotta pee.” 

“I don’t know what this is supposed to be. Lotus were you playing in the kitchen yesterday while I was working?” Staring at the ground, I squinted, pressing my lips into a frown. “I wanted to make flavored ice.” 

“Flavored ice?” he whispered looking back inside the bowl. “Lotus, what did I tell you about playing with food?” my mom frowned, rolling up her sleeves, snatching the bowl from Elijah before he attempted to eat it. 

“Sorry, I won't do it again.” She glanced at me before turning around to clean the bowl out. “You may leave.” Lowering my head, I headed out the kitchen and back to my room. According to my dad she was in a “mood” that day because of my uncle, her brother. Something happened, I don’t know the details but he made her pretty upset, not to mention it was also my mom’s birthday that day. 

Don’t worry I told her happy birthday and Elijah helped me make cookies for her. 

But now that I think about it, I wonder why I’ve never met their siblings or any other family members. I know my dad has a brother and my mom has a sister as well. Yet I haven’t met either of them. I wonder if I have cousins. 

Hm, I’ll find out one day. 

“I need to find my shoes,” I whispered looking around the living room. “Where did they go? It’s too hot for this.” 

Four months went by pretty quickly, I guess it was because my parents kept me busy while we waited for Amelia to wake up. Elijah took it upon himself to teach me how to write. 

Let's just say my handwriting is still trash no matter what body I’m in. My excuse is that I haven’t written anything in so long I forgot how to. Plus they don’t use normal pencils, they have these weird contraptions, passing them off as writing utensils. Ink comes out so it’s like painting without the paint brush, it's shaped like a pencil but the end has a brush. 

If you didn’t know, I am not an artist, I’ve never been good with paint. I could not create a picture with paint if my life depended on it. So you can imagine how difficult this is for me. 

“Lotus, it's not that hard.” 

For you! 

I am two years old, sir! I don’t know how to do this! 

“Use your right hand.” 

No! 

He sighed, staring over my shoulder as I struggled, he’s making me nervous. “Just write the letter,” I’m trying! 

Moving the pen down slowly I got the shape down without messing up this time, but when I lifted the pen, ink splashed on the page, ruining my hard work. Damnit! “I don’t wanna do this no more, I quit!” I threw the pen, pushing the chair away from the table with a loud creak and stormed off. 

Stupid paint brush, don’t wanna listen to me! 

“Kit.” 

Don’t talk to me. 

“What’s wrong with him?” my mom asked as I sat on the couch grabbing my book I was reading earlier. “He messed up his writing and threw a fit, again.” 

I’m never doing that again, I’ll just use my finger to write. 

Lifting my head at the sound of my mom chuckling, I frowned, that’s not funny. “Writing is hard,” I muttered under my breath, feeling the couch slightly dip when my father sat next to me. “I know, but you’ll have to learn how to write eventually.” Turning my attention towards him, I arched a brow, “why?” He smiled before answering me, “how else will you send people letters? What if you go on a trip one day, when you’re older, and you want to send me and your mother a letter? How would you do that without knowing how to write?” 

Good point, you got me there. 

“Or what if your sister wants you to send her letters while you're gone on your adventures? How would she know you’re okay? When you go to school you’ll have to write as well, you don’t want to be the only person that can’t write.” 

Staring down at my book, I listened to everything he said. He had valid points, I’ll give him that. “But that thing is hard to use.” 

“It’s not supposed to be easy, but it’ll become easier with practice. Not everything is perfect the first time you try it.” Nodding, I sighed, “okay, I’ll try again.” With a grin he stood up, “good, let’s try writing your name this time—” 

“My name?” 

“Yes, your full name, twice.” I’m going to regret this, getting up I followed him back into the study and began my practice of learning to write.