Mythshaper Chapter 01: Life, Death, and Other Unusual Magics

Chapter 01: Life, Death, And Other Unusual Magics

I wailed in a gut-wrenching scream, snatching another chance at life from the clutches of Death.

Pain ripped through my core as my eyes snapped open. A bright, glaring light blinded , followed by an overflow of tears. I had to squint to keep my eyes from wavering, but even that proved to be hopeless.

The light receded and dimd, and in its place, a huge, radiant head lood closer, staring at unblinkingly.

Startled, I cried, exerting every ounce of my will to break free from the giant’s grip. But my efforts were futile. I couldn’t muster up the barest minimum of strength. All my energy was wasted on wailing. No matter how much effort I put into speaking, all I managed was incoherent wailing.

The giant held close, as though afraid to let go. Then through blurry eyes, I noticed the bright auburn locks cascading over her shoulders, her exterior pale and feminine. She was staring at kindly, tears in her eyes, a deluge of raw emotions playing across her luminescent face.

Finally, I grasped the ultimate conundrum of my predicant. The woman wasn’t a giant. She was likely as normal as a human could be. It was I who had shrunk, nestled in the protective custody of her arms as if I were a baby to be pampered.

In fact, I was a baby—a newborn, at that.

The woman cradled and passed her other palm over my chest. She whispered soothing words into my ears—words I was hopeless to comprehend—yet they cald my restless heart. A dim, golden string of light spilled from her palm and disappeared into my skin as she rubbed my chest.

Sothing inside resonated with the light. My chest grew warm as the combined effort of the light and her soothing voice drove the pain away.

Relieved, I tried to contemplate the sheer absurdity of my situation. This could have been a feverish dream for all I knew, a fignt of my imagination. Not for a second did I believe that events such as reincarnation or rebirth were normal… At least, not with my mories intact…

Wait, who was I?

My mories failed . Only an image remained in my mind…

I was dying… sowhere chilly and dark… with an icy knife in my chest…

The thought of my father—with whom I had a love-hate relationship—crossed my mind, yet no ntal image of him appeared. Only a vague silhouette.

I forgot him first. Utter terror gripped as I lost more and more about myself. The most emotion-laden mories went first: my friends, companions, and family—people I could trust with my life. The mories drifted off like wisps of river fog threading their way up in the sunlight. Despite all my efforts to cling to the fog, it slipped from my grasp.

All that was left of was the vague impression of my education. Without a second thought, I tried to put it to the test… The best I could muster with my current ntal faculties was to count to thirteen before I felt a strain in my mind.

I turned my attention back to the woman. The incandescent feature of her skin had dimd while I dealt with my inner turmoil. Under her care, my pain vanished too, though the powerlessness lingered.

Well, I was a baby, for God’s sake.

My fragile brain turned to mush just thinking about the mysteries of such an event. I had no choice but to sleep on the problem...

Several hours later, I awoke again, properly cleaned and swaddled in a cotton cloth, still within the protective custody of the woman… My mother?

I tried to commit her face to mory. It was a demanding job with my terrible baby eyes. At least she didn’t glow like a lightbulb anymore—I wondered what that was about.

She appeared to be in her early thirties, fair-skinned, her face symtrical and pale. A little sickly, perhaps, as if she had been through a great battle recently. Maybe she hadn’t fared well in labour, yet she could still stand with a baby in her arms.

Soti later, the door of the hovel opened, and a man ca in. Tall, dark, and bald, he was swathed in black attire and looked sowhat frightening to be my father. Then his eyes found , and the look in them changed. Tears stread down from those bloodshot eyes as he picked up into his arms. The man was large, built like a boulder, and his arms were… not particularly gentle.

He kissed on the cheek, once, twice, thrice, and wiped his tears. I contemplated another bout of cries. Thankfully, the man returned to the more responsible person. Kissing her on the head, he led us to sit on a bedroll, and finally uttered so words into my ears.

Obviously, my feeble brain failed to grasp the words. But then a sharp pain stung my left palm, jolting awake. I wailed once more, eliciting her to cradle on her lap. The pain washed away, soon followed by a voice.

I looked between them to find that neither of the two had uttered the words. Furthermore, the voice was clearer, younger, and comprehensible, and it rang in my mind.

[You have been Nad.]

[Arilyn Arcis O’Ryon, welco to the paths. The Spell understands your unique circumstances. The Paths are partially open for you.]

What in the world? I was flabbergasted. Who are you?

No ideas of what it could be ca to mind. All I could do was listen to the words until they finished their comntary with a presentation of a lustrous green box with text written in it.

[Profile]

Arilyn Arcis O’Ryon

Path: U/A

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

Honours: U/A

Attributes [1/8]:

Cognition (Elentary) 1Gift:

[Fractal Soul]

[You can summon your Profile by staring intently at the mark in your left palm.]

Dumbly, I ran the words through my mind. It seed to be sothing only I had heard and seen, as my mother betrayed no sudden reaction to suggest otherwise. True to its words, I found a small intricate wheel mark on my left palm.

Compared to my reincarnation, this was only a little startling.

Still, I couldn’t help but wonder how it was possible to transfer one’s voice into another’s mind. So trick with vibrations? Magic?

That reminded —my mother had magical power? In my earlier restlessness, I had failed to grasp the implication behind that. Was she a healer? Considering her spell had driven away my pain…

Could she teach magic to ? Was it possible? Had I inherited the power from her? Dozens of such questions crawled through my mind with little to no explanation.

I would be lying if I said I hadn’t considered all of it to be a drunken dream. Mother always thought I had a knack for creativity…

Mother… Mother, who looked after everyone, worked tirelessly, and never received all that she deserved… I sighed as I rembered one last fact.

My mind lingered on my na. Arilyn was countless tis better than Paul, or whatever I had been called in my previous life. Now, what did it an by Fractal Soul? On that topic, what was a soul? Was it what reincarnated ?

And what about attributes? Cognition? Was it what I thought it was? Brainpower?

Whatever it was, I didn’t have much of it. Drowsiness fell over , leaving with no choice but to rest in the warm embrace of sleep.

****

The scream of sothing unholy awakened from my rest. An involuntary cry tore from my throat as more soul-chilling screeches echoed around .

Darkness surrounded , while biting gusts of wind made almost regret being alive. I was being carried, held tightly against a woman’s chest—my mother!

She dashed with furious efficiency, never pausing to search for the source of the cries. Perhaps she was being reckless, holding a newborn in her arms like that, but I couldn’t bla her if we were being chased by monstrous creatures.

Several large, bat-like creatures dove towards us. With thin, almost invisible wings, their sinewy forms glided nacingly through the air.

One ca dangerously close, but my mother gave it only the attention it deserved. With her free arm, she swatted it aside, sending its twisted body flying several tres. More attacked from each side, forcing her to falter—until dozens of thin golden strands extended from her and lashed out at them. The golden tendrils didn’t kill them right away. Instead, she dragged them forward, yanking on the threads of power until their bodies jerked under the strain and tore apart.

Seeing her effortlessly dispatch so many of these creatures eased my fear, but then the true horror announced its presence.

A quavering shriek froze her in her tracks. My eyes fell on sothing so massive I could barely take it in. It was several tres tall, standing on six feet, hairless, with leathery skin and sinewy muscles.

Sensing us, it barrelled forward, jaws parting with another bone-chilling scream. My mother’s grip on tightened as golden strings of power gathered around her arms. She cradled against her chest, the shimring energy shielding from the monster’s cry.

Then, a figure blurred into view before the massive creature could reach us—a sword in hand, glowing with malevolent light.

With a single swing, he cleaved the monster’s claw open, blood spilling in a fountain. Although my mother’s hold prevented from seeing the entire fight, I could tell the man—my father—knew what he was doing.

Relief washed over . I was still too disoriented to grasp everything, but I didn’t fancy another brush with Death.

My mother shouted sothing at him as she rushed past—words I couldn’t understand. I suspected he didn’t hear them either, fully absorbed in battling the impossible foe.

He shouted back and surged forward. I thought I heard him speak my na—the very na he had given .

Then sothing smashed into us from behind, nearly knocking loose from her grasp. But her grip was stronger than I had imagined. She clutched tight as we slamd into the ground. My vision blurred, and so did my consciousness.

I fought to remain awake. If I were to die again, I wanted to witness it with my eyes open.

I was hopeless to win that fight.

Darkness swallowed my thoughts, and all I could do was pray to the unknown gods that we would survive.

****

I was alive.

The experience left dazed, but when I opened my eyes, daylight filled the world, and there was no trace of those blighted creatures.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t say the sa for everyone. My mother was with , but my father was nowhere to be found. As the days passed, he did not return.

My heart pounded at the mory. In all honesty, I rembered very little about him—only that he was tall, gloomy, and bald, with calloused hands that were terrible at holding babies. But then I rembered when he nad , the sheer joy on his face.

I sighed and decided not to jump to conclusions just yet.

We had moved from the hovel where I was born to sowhere better in the countryside, perhaps. Life flourished here, and so far I had seen no signs of those cursed creatures.

My early days were peacefully boring, with little to do beyond contemplating life, death, and reincarnation. There had to be a reason, a purpose for my rebirth. Just as gravity operated, there must be laws governing life and death.

The topic was so nerve-wracking that I had to spend equal amounts of ti staring at the monotonous, inclined roof to recalibrate my feeble brain. The wooden house did not speak of wealth—I guessed I missed out on that lottery—but it had four separate rooms, nice furnishing, and most importantly, it was warm and cosy.

Imprisoned by the weight of my own head, my daily life was filled with immaculate tasks like drinking, sleeping, peeing, and defecating. Only one of these could I manage on my own.

The worst part was my occasional inability to control my bowels. I was fairly capable of managing them while awake, but on many occasions, I’d wake to the sll of my own piss. And then cry.

Infantile amnesia, please erase those embarrassing mories first! I prayed, clasping my palms together.

Only when my mother ca to change my clothes and sing to sleep did I find relief. She was an angel like that.

I was awake in my cradle when my mother ca to check on . Her lips curled into a smile upon seeing reach out my arms towards her. Yes, that was all I could manage, along with so jumbled mumbling.

Although I had learned many words since my birth, my vocal cords were not yet developed enough to articulate any of them. For instance, if I wanted to say mama, it ca out as “Yaya” at best.

My mother would always adopt a childish voice to call my na when speaking to . This occasion was no different. I showed my appreciation with giggles, which brought a radiant smile to her face like spring sunshine. She lifted , ensuring my clothes were dry. It was the Afternoon Stroll Ti, arguably my favourite part of the day.

Every day, she carried around the neighbourhood, past the sa houses and wheat fields, as a few people ca to talk with her. My attention, however, drifted everywhere. Today, it was skyward, where flocks of cloud folded together to create a spiral pattern.

I knew my eyes weren’t perfect—far from it. I struggled to track moving objects. Perks of being a couple of months-old baby. Yet, I didn’t believe there was nothing magical about the pattern. As though prompted by my thinking, those magical threads of light high within the clouds revealed themselves to .

[A new Way is accessible: Fractal Sight (1/10)]

I blinked, feeling a prickling pain in the back of my mind. Groaning, I tried to understand what just happened.

Well, it proved there was sothing mystical about the spiralling clouds, though it failed to explain anything more, much like my own existence.

By the end of our stroll, mother cast the sa spell on , regardless of my state. I suspected she could sohow read my exhaustion by looking at my face. Golden light spilled from her fingers in a string of chains and disappeared into my skin. The mystical power washed away most of my weariness.

I had ford a distinct ntal image of the light threading in eight separate ways through my body in a clear, symtrical form. Naively, I entertained the notion that if I could latch onto this warm power and sohow ta it, I might beco a sorcerer or healer one day.

The familiar sensation stirred in my left palm, and the Spell’s voice manifested to quash my childish fantasies.

[A new Way is accessible: ditation I (1/10).]

Of course, I thought, how could I forget that visualisation was a crucial part of ditation? And that was precisely what I had been practising since day one.

At least, there was another Way to keep invested.