NT:I changed the thoughts to italics, I didn''t see that it was possible to write in italics here, sorry.


    It has been six months, maybe? I''m not sure... Damn, being a baby is so embarrassing. And it''s very tedious. Well, at least I''ve already learned the language of this world.


    I think this as I grab the wooden crib and try to climb down slowly, but I end up falling to the floor, not having enough strength to hold on, since I used most of my energy to climb up the crib''s wooden bars. I let out a small groan of pain.


    Damn, I''m so weak.


    I crawl through the house with one goal in mind: looking out the window. Reaching the shabby kitchen, I feel a great sense of disappointment, just like I always do when I see that I''m poor again.


    I''m really unlucky.


    Before I realize it, I''m picked up by one of my brothers.


    Ah?! It''s this kid again!


    The gray-haired boy picks me up and walks toward the window. He drags a small stool, kneels on it to reach the height of the window, and lifts me up so I can see too.


    "Flügel, you can''t go around alone. Do you want to see the window again?"


    The view beyond the window shows shabby houses, people walking along the dirt road—though not many, since it''s nighttime. And in the distance, a large wall bathed in moonlight.


    So my name is Flügel, huh? I think while looking out the window.


    But why does this boy have gray hair? The woman who seems to be my mother has brown hair, that man has black hair... Unless he''s from a different father.


    I extend my small hands, wanting to touch the boy''s hair. He lowers his head so I can reach.


    I touch a strand of his hair, slightly squeezing it.


    It feels like normal hair. I don’t know why it’s gray. But it’s also really pretty. Maybe this kid really is from another father.


    "Do you like it, Flügel? The other kids say I’m adopted because my hair color is different from Mom’s and Dad’s."


    What do you think a baby is going to say to you? I''m a baby, I can''t even talk.


    Flügel furrows his brow and opens his mouth, trying to speak.


    — Uaaa... Boooaaa...


    Damn, it sucks not being able to say what I want.


    The boy just strokes Flügel’s head and smiles, seeing his little brother struggle to speak.


    Flügel turns his attention back to the window, watching the people and the large wall blocking the view beyond.


    Well, then I live in some kind of kingdom, right? And apparently, I was born in the slums of this kingdom. I''m way too unlucky.


    "Mael and Elijah, come eat!" calls Sophia, the mother of Flügel, Mael, and Elijah.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    "I''m going!" Elijah says as he carefully climbs down from the stool.


    So this kid is Elijah. Looks like he''s the middle child. Maybe he''s three or four years old? I don’t know.


    "Flügel, you''re heavy... Go by yourself, okay?"


    Elijah places Flügel on the ground. Flügel starts crawling toward the table. Mael, who was sleeping in the bedroom, comes out and stops to pick up Flügel, carrying him to the chair.


    Thankfully, Mael showed up. I didn''t want to have to crawl, it''s exhausting.


    I sit still in the chair, looking under the table since I’m too small.


    "Mael! You can''t put Flügel in high places like that."


    Sophia says, picking Flügel up and placing a bowl of soup with only two pieces of meat for Mael and Elijah. The soup has only two pieces of meat for each, some small chopped vegetables, and nothing more.


    "Sorry, Mom." Mael says, looking at the soup as he picks up a spoon and takes a sip.


    "Thanks for the food!" Elijah says before following his brother’s example and starting to eat.


    "It’s okay, eat up, kids. Your father will be home late tonight."


    Sophia carries Flügel to the bedroom, where she and her husband, Aragi, sleep.


    After breastfeeding Flügel and changing his diaper, made of old fabric, she places him in the crib to sleep.


    Finally alone... I can keep trying to find out if there''s magic in this world. Apparently, I’m in a kingdom, and judging by how people dress and the lack of technology, I’d guess this is the medieval era... Well, maybe there''s magic, or maybe I just reincarnated in medieval times, which honestly would be complete garbage.


    I''ll try to continue with that breathing technique. I remember seeing it in some novel I read... If I recall correctly, it was about relaxing the body and breathing... This way, making mana circulate throughout the body and the mana core.


    Flügel even clasps his hands together, placing his thumbs together and the rest of his fingers as well, forming a circle in front of his belly while sitting, leaning against the crib’s wooden bars that seem like they could give way at any moment.


    Hm... I don’t feel anything. I''ve been trying this for at least three weeks, and still nothing...


    Flügel focuses even more, trying to empty his mind and control his breathing. He tries to imagine something flowing through his body, like blood. He remains in this state for two whole hours until he starts hearing footsteps and opens his eyes. He lies down and pretends to be asleep.


    Damn, nothing new today.


    Flügel continues lying down, still feeling the presence of someone watching him. He doesn’t realize it, but he ends up falling asleep.


    Huh?


    I sit up and rub my eye.


    Did I fall asleep...?


    Flügel looks at the window with the curtain closed.


    It''s already late enough to sleep; Sophia and Aragi only close the curtain when it''s bedtime.


    Flügel tries to stand up, leaning on the wooden bars of the crib and peeking through the gaps at the bed, where Aragi and Sophia sleep peacefully, covered by a thin blanket. He sits down again, leaning against the wooden bars.


    If I get out of the crib, I’ll have to wake someone up to put me back... I don’t want to wake them, so forget it. I’ll try to use magic.


    I think to myself while getting into a meditation position.


    Maybe if I try meditating, I can discover something... But I don’t know how to meditate. I''ve never tried it, nor have I seen anyone talk about it.


    I let out a long sigh and try to clear my mind.


    However, thoughts like "Why did I reincarnate?", "Who did this?", "Are there other reincarnators like me in this world?" and "Is this another world, or just Earth in the past?" keep running through my mind.


    Damn, thinking about this won’t help at all. When I get older, I can try to find out.


    I take a deep breath and exhale, just sitting there with my eyes closed. I try to imagine something flowing from my chest to the tips of my fingers, focusing as hard as I can to visualize this image.


    After an hour, I lose my patience.


    Damn it, am I seriously not going to be able to use magic as a kid?! I wanted to be like those novels I used to read... Damn... But maybe I''m just doing it wrong. Well... What if I just try the way I did back on Earth? I remember simply imagining something in the palm of my hand. Well, who knows if there was some hidden power on Earth and people just never discovered how to use it?


    Alright, I’ll try that... I’ll try creating something in the palm of my hand, maybe a mana ball... If mana even exists in this world.


    With that in mind, I take a deep breath, trying to control my breathing, focusing whatever it is into my palm. Keeping my eyes closed, I push myself to the limit.


    After an hour, I start sweating, my breathing becoming a bit heavy. Despite this, I''m afraid to open my eyes and see nothing, getting frustrated or losing focus.


    But I decide to open them, and looking at my right palm, I see something like a small black humanoid. Actually, it looks more like a star than a human-shaped figure.


    What the hell?


    I speak without even thinking, but only baby sounds come out of my throat.


    I bring my palm closer to my eyes, staring directly at whatever that black thing is. It looks like a shadow, a mist. I breathe slowly and gently, afraid that even my breath might make it dissipate and I’d lose all my effort.


    In a way… I kind of feel something with you? I don’t know exactly what, but apparently, I have some kind of connection with you… Did I create a familiar?


    I think to myself, even though I have no idea what this thing is. Somehow, I know I created it, and I can feel a connection with this black figure in my palm.


    You’re really small… You’re probably about two centimeters tall?


    I hear the rustling of the bed sheets behind me. I freeze, afraid that one of my parents might wake up and see this thing in my hand.


    Before I even realize it, the thing sinks into my palm. I can feel it, and I can sense it inside me in a strange way.


    Seizing the opportunity, I just lie down and pretend to be asleep. I feel eyes on me—probably my mother, who woke up and came to check on me, since I feel a gentle caress on my head.


    With that, I end up falling asleep once again, feeling a bit happy for making some progress in whatever it was that created that being. I still have no idea if mana exists in this world or if there’s some otherkind of power.