"Sirvolt, come closer sweetie." Mother called, holding her hand out towards me. Far below the city slowly shifted as we flew, the geometrical city clusters connected by colossal travel networks glinted in the late evening gloom. I flapped my wings pointlessly, the action almost causing my flight to fail, sending me drifting away from the outreached hand.
Flapping my wings was just one of the many bad habits I couldn't fully suppress. Having lived a fully mundane life was causing innumerable issues during my second, far more fantastical existence. Before, flight was a function of thermals and wind resistance and so many other complicated factors. Flight had been a fully mechanical effect based on physical properties, a fact I'd long internalised.
Here, I just channelled a steady stream of demonic power to my retractable appendages and boom. Flight. Physics had so little room in the conversation, they weren't even in the same building. Amusingly enough flapping my little bat-like wings tended to disrupt my efforts of maintaining that unceasing and even flow of power, hampering the process.
"Keep them steady." Mother sighed, easily banking around to my side and taking a firm hold of my little hand. "You don't need to move your wings like that, you aren't a bird."
"I'm trying." I muttered, pouting playfully. The flow of power was easy enough to keep pouring into my supernatural limbs, years of my headache inducing attempts to gain a handle on my newfound magic serving me well. But the insistent voice at the back of my head that couldn't be silenced demanded that I flap the wings. Wings flapping produced flight and lift, I was flying with my wings, thus they should flap.
Not everything I'd inherited from my first life was great. The common sense a mundane human cultivated over decades of existence wasn't entirely compatible with the life of a literal devil child. Existing as a supernatural entity was far removed from the mere sack of flesh and blood I'd been before.
At a fundamental level, Devils were beings of magic. It was difficult to put into words just how alien the very foundation of my new existence was. Magic was woven deep into every cell of my body, elevating my existence beyond mere mortality.
I gripped my mothers hand back, struggling to suppress the impulsive movement and keep a stable glide. The kind brunette gazed across at me, her face twitching like she was suppressing a smile. A mile below Kite City slowly rotated as we circled above the highway. The Gremory's were better than most Nobles and rights within their territory were much fairer than most places in the Underworld, but their idea on what constituted appealing urban aesthetics left much to be desired.
Not that I was stupid enough to say that out loud.
Even if I was showing myself as more mentally developed than my peers, a four year old voicing opinions over the measures implemented to combat urban sprawl was sure to raise eyebrows. To say nothing of the love the lower classes here seemed to hold for their Duke's family.
"Just like that!" Mother praised as with a surge of pure willpower I forced the compulsive movements down, my wings remaining outstretched. The energy flowed easily, a mere trickle of my inner reserves slowly vanishing and vanquishing the hold of gravity. A fundamental facet of existence just waved away by the minor exertion of a tiny child.
Admittedly my grasp on demonic power was far ahead of my peers. Fruitless years of trying to perform magic, grappling with my ignorance over the innate energies within had given me the capability of a smooth command over the power. I just hadn't managed more than conjuring a brightly glowing ball of light into my tiny palm.
Considering my new species can see in the dark, it wasn't just of dubious usefulness, it was downright useless. Recently I'd been trying to turn the pure white light into different colours, attempting to twist the magic to produce blues and reds and yellow hues.
It was a slow and methodical process.
My repeated failures had amused my parents mightily as much as impressed them. At the very least I was getting the chance to fly outside, something I knew my peers wouldn't be allowed to do for several more years.
We kept flying for close to an hour before my stores of energy were near guttering, then swooped down over Kite City, the eyesore that we called home. It was more of a large town in my opinion, but our redheaded overlord had a theme going and wasn't going to allow mere common sense to sway his decision.
I landed with a grunt, coming in for a landing slightly too fast and almost buckling over.
"Sirvolt! What did I tell you about touching down?" Mother sighed in exasperation, rolling her yellow eyes, reaching out to grasp my shoulder, preventing me from eating pavement.
"Not to turn myself into a pancake?" I winced, hopping in place as my knees stung. The impromptu circus performance didn't exactly help my aching joints, but I gave myself points for trying.
"And what did you just do?" She asked, unlocking the store-front and walking inside. I scurried after her, passing the display cases and shelves. Half of the room was taken up by beautifully crafted weapons and armour. Gleaming swords and shiny shields dominated the front half of the store, attracting customers. Deeper inside was more mundane wares, piles of hinges and boxes of nails. Everyday metal items, that I knew accounted for most of the products that we sold.
"Just stunted my growth a little. Who wants to be as tall as dad anyway?" I joked, poking her in the thigh.
We passed through the storeroom to find the staircase that would take us up to our home above the shop, mother poking her head outside to backdoor and calling out our return. The steady hammering from the small smithy in the backyard halted for a moment, father welcoming us back, before he returned to work once more.
"You won't be saying that in fifteen years." Mother laughed, brushing her fingers through my white hair as she headed for the kitchen.
With my demonic power depleted magic practice wasn't on the cards, so I just collapsed onto the sofa, groaning. Even retracted into nothingness, my wings emanated a stinging ache. Looks like my first true flight was a touch overdone.
I loafed around for a while, idly playing with my conjured light when I'd recovered enough. Father came in soon enough, the hulking giant of a man drenched in sweat from a hard days work.
"Had a good first flight Sirvolt?" Father asked while undoing his ponytail, letting the long white hair whip around as he shook his head. He never did like having to bind it for work.
"It was fun!" I confirm, prying my eye away from the glowing ball hovering above my palm. "The cities look nice from up there. Uses a lot of magic though."
"You and your magic." Father rolled his green eyes, clapping me on the shoulder as he headed for the shower.
My attention was almost magnetically back towards my experimentation. I allowed awareness to flow through the stream of magic, watching the folds and twists and turns. Why did this specific combination, discovered through sheer trial and error, result in a ball of light? What gave this exact... contortion, this construction, this bending, whatever word was used for the manipulation of the demonic power, this exact outcome?
I didn't know, but I continued to prod and poke, gradually trying a myriad of manipulations, brute forcing my experimentation. Mostly this just broke the simple spell, other times it contracted and enlarged, sometimes it wobbled, sometime it moved around randomly.
It was all just so... fascinating! Magic, actually magic, held right here in my hand. Magic, the word that could excite even a monkey. The power that was now my birthright, within my very grasp. How could I not be obsessed?
I knew what world I was in, the sheer heights that magic could carry me into. Perhaps more surprising that my initial rebirth was recognising my new world. I'd known this place, from a damned ecchi anime. I'd known the story and characters, as well as some of the threats that awaited in the future. Too bad I'd never read the light novels...
Initially I'd been worried, scared and frightened of the sheer scale of danger waiting right in the wings. I was so young and weak and the future seemed like a mountain, looming overhead, shadowing my entire world.
Then I'd discovered the year according the to western human calender. It had just been a random piece of information my parents had been discussing one day, since devil's didn't exactly keep to human timekeeping.
1950. It was the year nineteen fucking fifty. Halfway through the twentieth damned century. I'd been born in the year 1947.
The impending doom that had captured my imagination was swiftly vanished, as had every half formed plan that had crowded my mind. Suddenly it all fell away, useless.
Yes, there was danger in the future but I had time. Decades and decades to prepare. Maybe I should be panicking more, but from my original human perspective... I had a lot of time. Time to work myself into a position to take advantage of all the chaos coming our way. Time to work myself up the ranks of devil society.
Needless to say, we were Low Class devils. My new father run a somewhat successful smithy while my mother worked the store itself. We had no Nobility in our family tree, nor did we know any. The same was true for 99% of devil kind. To my knowledge, I'd never set sight on even a Knight, let alone any of the higher nobles.
Thankfully devil society wasn't completely stagnant. I'd seen competitions on our fuzzy old TV- inexplicitly in colour despite the year- with low class devils struggling to claim a title for themselves. It went without saying that such a trial was difficult, allowing only the crème of the crop to rise to the top. I'd need years of work and effort to shatter my way through that ceiling.
All my future knowledge was currently useless, the world not yet advanced to a point it became relevant or useful. All there was to do was push myself forward and not accept stagnating. I couldn't become trapped in mediocrity. There was a clear path laid out before me, I just had to muster the strength to walk it.
Thankfully the road of magic was an easy one to walk. Loving even the first cobbled surface of that long and winding path was as easy as breathing.
It was with extreme reluctance that I pulled myself away to attend dinner, before the appetising scents drifting along the breeze caused my stomach to gurgle with need.
"Someone's hungry." Mother teased as I joined the table, jumping onto my booster seat. The embarrassment had long since been drained away, to grudging acceptance. I was currently small and it was better than the alternative. At least I'd escaped the baby seat.
"My brain needs lots of fuel, magic's hard." I nodded, digging in eagerly before remembering my manners. "Thank you!"
"You're welcome sweetie." Mum smiled, taking her own seat and digging in as father joined us. For minutes there was only the clinking of utensils and muttered hums of approval. Mum was a really fantastic cook.
"So, you're birthday's coming up soon." Father broke the silence, glancing my way. "Have you thought about what you want yet?"
"A magic book!" I answered instantly, my attention snapping away from the food to stare into his eyes. My hopeful yellow orbs bored into his, shining my excitement.
"Kalv..." Mother broke in, raising an eyebrow at father. They looked at each other, seemingly having a private conversation. I knew magic books were expensive, very expensive. My second parents were both over four hundred years old, but between them had a total of four magic books. It went without saying but they didn't let their four year old have access to them, ahead of his peers or not.
"We shouldn't hold him back." Father sighed, earning him a strained look in return. "We've already told him to tone it down, but he doesn't listen. Least we could do is make sure he understands how to do so safely."
Huh? I blinked at them in confusion. Okay, I'd earned a few gentle clips around the ear and some stern lectures when I got too caught up in experimenting but it only happened a few times a week.
The discussion stopped suddenly at that, leaving a stilted silence in the air. As soon as dinner was finished I was sent to my room, the thick wooden door struggling to muffle their whispered argument.
I pushed my hopes to the back of my mind as the week passed, shifting my research onto a new area I occasionally tried. It was well known that the devil race possessed an innate ability with demonic power. Technically we could do practically anything, shaping our magic by pure need into almost any effect.
In practice, this wasn't practical. I'd managed to force a small fireball into existence before, face red from straining, forcing myself to need the outcome. It was reproducible, replicable. Technically I could form a fireball on demand, if the correct mental focus was applied. Practically however, this ability was useless.
Something that produced this innate power smoothed over the lack of knowledge, of knowing exactly how to achieve the desired effect by simply flooding pure magic into the effort. I could play with my magical light for hours these day, or fly for over an hour. A simple fireball drained me to empty in an instant. Worse, this never improved even as my magic had grown.
If there was any improvement in my inborn ability to just force magic into existence, I hadn't noticed. Maybe if someone practised for hundreds or thousands of years, they could begin to cut down the sheer inefficiency, but I doubted it. The very effect was powered by the inefficiency, where you sacrificed inordinate amounts of magic to bring about a miracle. I was half convinced it was the act of that sacrifice itself the allowed for the innate ability to work, although I had nothing to prove it.
A week before my fifth birthday however, I had the answer to my not so hidden hopes. Father finished his day early and took me out into the city, a heavy pouch of gold clinking on his waist, shooting me a wink. We flew over the rooftops, dodging other commuters to arrive at upscale bookstore.
"Yes..." I hissed, barely capable of resisting bouncing in place. Father's heavy hand fell onto my head, guiding me inside.
Thousands of mundane books littered the shelves, a good number of customers browsing and making purchases. My gaze roved the stacks, not finding what I was searching for. Where were-
"This way Sirvolt." He chuckled, steering me towards the back of the store. A curtained doorway stood between two heavy bookshelves, filled to the brim with tightly packed novels. Father's muscular limb swept the curtain aside and ushered me in.
The backroom has a second counter, a previous bored devil slumped onto her arms straightening up and adopting an air of professionalism, a deep blush quickly colouring her cheeks. "Hello sir. How can Glavion's help you today?"
This room was nothing like the previous one, with books pressed cover to cover. Here, antique looking cabinets and display cases dotted the room, each proudly presenting massive slabs of paper contained in rich leather covers. There was no price tags anywhere to be found, just small plaques giving a brief overview of the knowledge contained within each tome.
"Wow..." I couldn't help it, gaping at the source of all my dreams contained before me. The knowledge I'd so desperately searched for was hidden within these, the beginning of the road I wanted to travel. It all began here.
Despite being worse than a novice in the magical arts the heavily enchanted books seemed to pulse, each of the thick treasure troves tingling with potential, tickling my brain.
"We're looking for an introduction to magic, or some sort of experimentation guide." Father laughed, shooting me a look and shaking his head. "This little one won't stop messing around with his power, always trying to do different stuff. If you had anything that could help with that..."
"Oh..." The lady uttered, blinking down at me. "Um... isn't he a little young? I'm sorry to say, we don't carry anything aimed towards children."
"It's fine, it's fine." Father smiled easily. "The boy's scarily smart for his age. If he doesn't understand it all right away, he'll get it within a year or two."
"Yes sir..." The poor saleswoman sighed, trying to push down her obvious doubts in favour of making a sale. She came around the counter to lead us, or more correctly, my father, over to a particular cabinet. "Here we have a 'Treatise on Demonic Power' by Vuldician Sitri. It's a highly recommended resource for those performing a deep delve into original or exotic magical experiments."
I leaned against the display case, my breath misting the clear glass. The book was massive, at least fifteen hundred pages. The covered was blank except for a sigil carved deeply in silver. I hadn't had to memorise the insignias of the Pillar Houses yet, but when I got around to it... I'm pretty sure one in particular would look like that.
"Or over here." The saleswoman led marched stiffly to another case, waving to one of the four tomes held inside. "'Compendium of Basic Demonic Power Manipulations.' It's not a spellbook in the traditional sense, more of a reference exploring the commonalities held between the more common spells and their basic structure. Or, over here..."
We were caught up in the woman's pace, sheer enthusiasm beginning to pour out as she guided us between the displays. Whatever doubts she held about our potential purchase, it was clear the woman was...
Was she one of my people? Had I found a kindred spirit?
Eventually we left after an agonising thirty minutes, where I had to make a decision between four tomes- book was an insignificant descriptor for the sheer beauty each volume held- my chosen purchase wrapped and clutched to my chest protectively.
It was so damn large and heavy, I struggled to carry it. If I was a human child the task would probably have been impossible. Now that I had it however, I wasn't letting go. This book was mine and it would be pried from my cold, dead hands.
"'Building the Building Blocks' by Ajuka Beelzebub." I whispered reverently, almost lovingly. After literal years of blind experimentation, this beautifully crafted tome would reveal the shrouded path of the road I was determined to walk. My very own paper lighthouse.
"Enjoy it." Dad said, voice sounding strangled. His previous bulging sack of gold hung limp and flaccid, occasionally releasing a sad and lonely clink.
Putting aside my poor choice of analogies aside, I rushed home, where my treasure was immediately taken from me. So caught up in my excitement I'd forgotten that a birthday present was usually given on, you know, birthdays.
Of which my day had yet to come.
I most definitely didn't sulk for the rest of the week, no matter how much mother teased me about looking like a drowned rat. In an act designed to only quell the restless energy the wait was filling me with, the epic search for my parents existing magic books began. I'd seen mother using magic before, to clean up the house and cook dinner. Dad of course used magic in the forge, to create better quality products than mere mundane blacksmithing could produce, in a fraction of the time.
Unfortunately I found none of the hidden volumes, receiving only the smug smiles of the parental unit. My epic quest ended in complete failure.
On the eve of my fifth birthday I couldn't fall sleep, watching my clock as time slowly ticked away. Tick. Almost another minute and I'd be five. Could I go wake my parents up? Maybe they'd suffer a collective stroke and just hand me the book? That could happen, right? It wasn't impossible.
Tick. Another thirty second and I would have existed in this world for five whole years, give or take a few hours. I didn't precisely know what time I'd been delivered, nor was I interested in learning. The first two years had been a blur, fragmented and chaos. It had taken a while for my consciousness to truly begin to emerge.
After almost two and a half years of conscious living in this world, I had almost nothing to show for it. I could reliably fly for a while and making a bright light. Yes, I had been a literal toddler for most of it, but those years all chipped away at my deadline. I wasn't ready to write off my childhood as wasted years.
Now, with proper knowledge just inches from my fingertips, it was time to truly begin my second life. Everything that led to this was a taster-
The clock ticked-
The day began-
And something slid right into my Soul, into my very innermost reaches that I hadn't even known was there. The formless mass violated the core of my existence, sliding inside me and lodging deep within. It hummed with pure potential that throbbed and made me want to squeal at the sheer vibrancy scraping amidst my soul.
I fell from the bed, limbs twitching as tendrils burrowed from that mass into my mind. Informing me, teaching me, sharing it's potential and constraints.
The power itself was cold, almost dead. It wasn't a living entity any more than the clock on my bedside table was alive. It just... was. A created thing built to perform an action and simply doing so. There was no intent or awareness, no thoughts or beliefs colouring the knowledge it slammed into my brain. It was pure, cold and mechanical.
- The thought of how I'd been reincarnated into a story had popped up occasionally, but it always seemed to slip away eventually. The knowledge that I was living in what had previously been a fictional universe should have frightened me on an existential level, wondering how it happened-
- With this new power, alien and strange, it was clear something, somewhere was playing games-Forget the dangers to come, clearly whatever was messing with me-
-I needed to remember-
-I couldn't forge-
I blinked, confused as the clock. Twelve minutes past midnight! I was finally five and with it had come-
A new power! I could feel it, floating alongside my magic. It was new and yet familiar, distinct from the previous power I'd been exploring for these short few years. Yet where my demonic energies was boundless with possibilities, this new power was sharp and defined. I somehow knew with complete surety, that using this power... I could reach into worlds beyond. Anywhere I imagined, a path could be created, letting me slip right through the cracks. It wasn't infinite, I could tell. The alien energies grew painfully slowly and the paths between realities needed a good stockpile to forge the necessary roads.
I laughed and laughed as my worries began to drain away. Had I just awoken a new power? An innate ability just like the Pillar Families, my own answer to the Power of Destruction and Immortality?
Well, I'd already been reborn once. Maybe my insane luck had struck again?
In moments all the plans I'd created were useless and I couldn't be happier!
I giggled and got up off the floor.. how did I get-
I climbed into bed, a wide grin on my face as my brain began to churn.