His suggestion took me a moment to process. A… fight with Father? It sounded fun. Agreeing with a nod, I raised my wooden sword and got into position.

There was a bit of an audience. The back door creaked open, with Mother and Claire stepping out. Both watching from the porch.

Great… an audience.

Father wasn’t playing around but taking this seriously. He lowered his stance— loose, but certainly sharp.

I lunged first, rushing in from the right. My blade sliced through the air toward his legs, then I feinted, pivoting and swinging up toward his right arm.

He read it like it was a child’s play. In a blink, his left hand shot forward— thwack!

A sharp jab landed clean in my abdomen, knocking the wind out of me. It caused me to stumble back, gasping.

“Ouch, too much force, Father!”

However, in a real battle, no quarter would be given. Enduring the minor setback, I closed the distance once more. This time, my aim was set to his stomach. Father shifted his stance, parrying my blade upward, and I stumbled, off-balance. I felt a sting on my right cheek. His fist packed a solid wallop.

There was never really a chance of me winning against Father, at least, not at this very moment. Even though this is my second life per say, I never had any real combat experience.

As I readied for my next strike, there was no sign of him anywhere until suddenly he reappeared in front of me. That sort of speed was unreal and before I could react, he struck with the flat end of his wooden word— right at my neck/

I dropped to the ground, vision spinning.

Would magic have made a difference?

…No

Father’s hand extended out towards me; a wide smile stretched across his face

“Ashur, that was splendid,” Father said, patting my back. “For one so young and taking the initiative was a marvelous tactic. And that feint!? Jeez that was really something. I never taught you something like that and yet you picked that up on your own?”

I grinned, rubbing my neck. “Well, I still lost, but just you wait!”

He laughed, amused by my words. It was only then that behind our commotion was Mother and Claire, who for the better part watched in silence, but began clapping. Claire tried to mimic Mother’s applause, which only made it cuter.

“Time for supper, boys!” Mother called out as she headed back in with Claire.

We joined her at the table, and between bites, Mother inquired about my progress thus far, to which I reluctantly admitted that it was going smoothly.

“Well, how about I teach you some magic?” She said with a beatific smile.

It caught me off guard when hearding Mother was offering to teach me magic herself. She’d always been adamant about finding a mentor for me.

Mother woke me up at the crack of dawn, sunlight barely spilling through the windows. Guessing magical lessons wait for no one.

“Ok, smarty pants,” she chirped, nudging me awake. “You remember how mana flow works, right?”

I rubbed my heavy eyes and muttered, “By absorbing the natural mana flowing around us to use as a medium for magic…”

“Bingo!” She clapped, full of excitement.

I groaned inwardly. She was excited, maybe too excited early in the morning, and my brain still felt like soup.

“For conjurers,” she began, full-throttling into teacher mode, “you’ll want to focus on the mana around you first. Feel your surroundings first as it becomes natural to you.”

After that lovely explanation, the two of us began heading outside into the back garden. The dew still clinging to the grass as the morning chill bit at my ankles.

“Alicia brought up many times on just how special you are,” Mother muttered, more to herself than me, her eyes scanning me with curiosity. “Well, let’s see it for ourselves, then.”

She stepped back and took up a defensive stance. “Now… cast the biggest fire magic you can.”

“Ok!”

I drew in the surrounding mana, letting it swirl around me, like a gentle breeze. With a slow breath, it began shaping, compressing the energy into a condensed sphere of blazing heat.

The roaring flames pulsed with power. I pressed my feet deeply down on the ground and hurled it straight at my mother.

She responded quickly to the attack. With a smooth motion, she formed a glowing circle before her. A translucent mana barrier shimmered into view, catching the fireball mid-air. The brief impact burst harmlessly across its surface in a measly flare of sparks.

“Very impressive Ash, that was quite something, really.” Mother said with a warm smile. “I didn’t expect that kind of fire power.”

I scratched my cheek, feeling a little awkward for the praise. “Actually… fire isn’t my only magic.”

“Come again?” She said, with a blank expression. Her brows arched in surprise.

“More?”

“Yeah, I can use some wind and water too.”

“Since when—? Forget it, just show me.” She sighed in confusion, quickly getting back into position.

The next several minutes were me casting wind and water spells, casting sharp gusts and small arcs of water.

Mother tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Three elements… that certainly is something else, Ash.” Her voice softened, gaze lingering on me with a look of joy and pride. “Our son’s a genius.”

Genuis, huh? It sure doesn’t feel like that.

“Now, lets spend the rest of the day creating elemental mana orbs and see how long you can keep them active,” she said, glimmering with enthusiasm.

This was interesting to say the least. It was new and sounded like a good idea to see how long one can hold one’s mana up without exhausting themselves or casting multiple elements.

At first, I created two blazing fires, one tepid water, and two whirlwind wind orbs hovering, but soon lost my focus, which disrupted the flow. Mother exhorted me to create them to similar proportions.

The next few weeks were spent maintaining mana orbs and creating more. There was definite improvement with my core as it has expanded gradually handling multiple orbs at once. The sizes were smaller compared to the attack I launched at Mother, but the stability was there.

The sun began to set, and the aroma of simmering food wafted from the backyards. Father seemed to be hard at work providing us with the support of Claire cheering him on.

It dawned on me to ask mother about the purpose of this practice. Besides increasing mana output and casting, was some tactical advantage of this?

Maybe this was like strength training, pushing yourself until you break. The more I do it, mabe the better my control on mana.

It didn’t hurt to ask Mother as it’s been tugging at my mind for some time.

“Mother, does this help me manage mana better or use it in a different way?”

“Oh? I thought my genius son would figure it out,” she teased, puffing out her chest with exaggerated pride. “I guess I can teach my son a thing or two.”

She flicked her finger, creating multiple orbs at once, but suddenly, they started to whimper and whisk away. “If you can’t maintain your magic— if your mana runs out too fast or you begin to lose control, then it doesn’t matter how powerful your magic is, when you’ll burn out before the fight ends.”

Her gaze returned to me. “At this rate,” she said, eyeing the faint scorch mark in the grass, “your father’s going to start losing his hair with all the stress we’re causing him.”

We both chuckled, imagining the expression Father would make seeing the garden in ruins.

“Come on,” Mother said, brushing her hands off. “Let’s not keep the food waiting.”

I realized the intention behind her teaching. Maybe trying to control my mana and stabilize would improve everything else. While I may be old mentally, it doesn’t mean I can get to careless with my growth.

A few months have passed, making significant progress in improving the density of my magic and casting larger spells more effectively. It used to take me five to six seconds to cast— like the fireball— was now down to just three seconds.

The difference between a few seconds could mean life or death. Mother sure looked surprised to see my continuous growth in magic and my aptitude in learning.

“Well now,” she said, clapping her hands together. “Let’s get you trained on how to close the gap.”

Close the gap? What did she mean by that to get my head spinning.

Before there was time to ask, a gust of wind coalesced around her legs, and in a blink, she was right in front of me. I flinched back, startled. The distance had to have been at least five meters away, and the distance she crossed in a second was incredible.

“Did you catch that?” she asked, looking rather pleased with herself from the looks of it.

I blinked several more times, attempting to process the exact method she did. “I… think so? I said, uncertain. Mana acceleration? Wind magic? A combustion of the two? My brain scrambled to break down her exact method.

Her face was etched with surprise, perhaps she thought her prodigy son was unable to figure it out.

“It’s simpler than it looks. I imbued wind magic on my legs to give me a stronger boost in my speed.” Demonstrating once more the magic swirling around her feet.

“That’s so cool… can I do it too?” I asked, piquing my curiosity and interest.

She grinned, clapping her hands. “Of course you can, go ahead and try it.”

The mana circled around my legs, it felt weird at first, almost unfamiliar. It resisted but gradually began to expand around my legs. My muscles tightened, my balance shifted, and finally, with a vision almost blurry to see, I moved.

The speed at which I went was not anything that I’ve experienced. I tumbled hard across the ground, landing in a heap. The bruises blooming across my arms and legs were a stark reminder that, yes, I need some practice.

Behind me, could be the laughter of Mother. Finding my crash landing must have been very entertaining for her.

Training continued for several more weeks. The training process and what Mother taught were magnificent. Magic was becoming more exciting than swordsmanship. It felt more alive and freer with the creativity behind it.

What mother was teaching me was combining my magic and swordplay into one. To utilize both skills fluidly and adapt to any situation.

I cast a sidelong glance at my mother, who was seated across from me, methodically consuming her breakfast before our training session resumed. “Mom, why is it so hard to learn both melee and magic?”

Priscilla paused mid-chew, her eyes narrowing as she swallowed what was in her mouth. “Honey, it may not sound difficult for you, but for many people, especially early on, it’s extremely taxing. The body just can’t do both at once, especially not a three-year-old.”

I nodded in agreement, while this wasn’t exactly new to hear, it was best to ask an expert. Although… from what was said, it seemed it ticked off Mother.

She stood up, brushing breadcrumbs from her training clothes as she regarded me directly.

“I hope you didn’t think I was being rude,” I said, glancing down from her gaze. “I didn’t mean it that way. Sorry Mommy.”

The feeling of being belittled was something I was all to aware of in my previous life, and it felt as my question was straight daggers to her chest.

Without missing a beat, she ruffled my hair and pulled me into a hug. “Ash, you’re special. But honey, it comes with a price,” she whispered, her voice softer now. “People will take notice of special people. Many may try to use you for their own gains. Your father and I… we won’t always be there to protect you.”

Her arms tightened just a bit more. “You need to be strong. Not for us, but for yourself. Always question people’s kindness.”

After a brief moment, she gently pushed away, standing up and pointing at the garden. “Alright, alright, that’s enough sad talk for now. Let’s get back to training!”

As we returned to practice, her words lingered. I’m getting too comfortable, and I shouldn’t. Cruelty doesn’t always wear its face openly.

It would be nearly a year of training with Mother before I hit a wall. It happened a lot sooner than anticipated, but Mother could not think of other ways to teach me, at least effectively. The rest, I’d have to carve out myself.

Sometime soon, the next chapter of my journey will begin.