Solider
I had just turned six, and my little ragtag group of village kids was still the same: Anna at six, Joey at four almost 5, and Helen she had turned 5 this winter she was trailing close behind him like a loyal puppy. Joey was already annoyed with her constant shadowing, but Helen did not care she adored him.
We spent our days playing adventure, running through the fields, and hunting slimes and horned rabbits like it was the most natural thing in the world. The farmers actually paid us in apples, and few coppers, whatever they had on hand. They were simply happy to have the pests cleared out of their crops.
For us, it was the perfect deal. We got to play adventurer, earn snacks, and feel like we were doing something important. And honestly, for a bunch of village kids, we kind of were.
Me and Anna showed Joey the magic manual. By then he was old enough to join us in class, and honestly, the kid was frighteningly smart. I still cannot believe he came from my father. Meanwhile, I seemed to be the only unlucky one in the family the only one without any real talent for magic.
Joey, on the other hand, could cast all four elements. And not just cast them he eventually learned to use them without incantations. That is something most mages never manage in their entire lives. Anna helped him figure it out, and once he understood the trick, he just ran with it like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Mrs. Bailey was astonished. She said she had never had a student learn so fast or so easily. Joey just had a natural talent for magic pure, raw, and undeniable.
I was not without talent either. Anything physical I saw, I could pick up the first time I was shown. Every morning after my workout, I trained with my father, watching each movement carefully and copying it until it felt natural. Even techniques I only read about in books came easily. And with all the martial arts I remembered from my old world mostly jiu‑jitsu with a bit of karate mixed in I had a solid foundation. Add internal magic to that, and I could defend myself if I ever needed to.
I was catching up to my father fast when it came to swordplay. In the Darkness Style, I was already close to his level in technique. The other two styles felt pointless to me. Why defend when you can strike first, faster than anyone can react? Of course, my six‑year‑old body had its limits, but technique‑wise, I was closing the gap.
That warm summer day was too good to waste. It was perfect for swimming in the pond, fishing, or doing literally anything other than sitting through Miss Bailey's lessons. History class dragged on forever, and half of it I had already read in some book anyway. I was bored out of my mind.
I nudged Anna.
"Big sis, let's get out of here."
She shot me an annoyed look and ignored me. I tried the same thing with Helen, who was sitting next to me, and got the exact same reaction. I groaned loud enough that Miss Bailey stopped mid‑sentence and gave me the full stink‑eye. Apparently, all my friends were too responsible to sneak out of class.
Miss Bailey could see my restless body practically vibrating in place, so she finally called for a break. That was all the permission I needed. I said screw it and skipped. Thus began my lonely day of messing around.
I headed straight for the pond and went for a warm, quiet skinny‑dip. No one was around, so why not? I was having an exciting time until a great boar lumbered out of the trees to drink. I recognized it immediately I had seen a bounty posted for it the other day. One silver coin. Then the thought of pulled pork and BBQ ribs hit me, and suddenly I was not thinking about danger at all. Just food and money.
I swam slowly to shore, grabbed my sword the same one I had gotten for my birthday and stood there completely naked, water dripping off me. I focused, channeled my mana, and unleashed a Dark Strike, a technique built on speed and precision.
The blow landed cleanly, hitting the boar right in the head. My sword chipped on its tusk as it passed through its eye. The boar dropped instantly.
And I was furious not about the boar, but about the chip in my sword.
That night, I told everyone about my naked adventure at the pond. Dad was furious about one thing and one thing only the chip in my sword. He scolded me hard, but I could see it in his face: beneath the anger, he was proud. Proud that his six‑year‑old had taken down a D‑rank monster alone. Proud that I had survived. Proud that I had acted decisively. It did not take long before I was forgiven.
We butchered the great boar together and shared some of the meat with Victor's family. After that, we all fell asleep full and satisfied, proud of my first D‑rank kill
The next day, with a full belly and my damaged sword in hand. I made my way to the blacksmith's shop in the village. Springhol was not big, but it was not tiny either an average frontier settlement with a small general store, a baker, and a smith, all lined up beside each other along the main road. The biggest building in town was the mayor's office, which doubled as his house. Everything else was scattered around in clusters of simple homes, each one belonging to a farmer, a hunter, or a craftsman.
The roads were just packed dirt, always dotted with horse dung no matter how often people tried to clean them. Over the years the village had grown steadily, and by now we were sitting at maybe three hundred people. Enough to feel alive, but still small enough that everyone knew everyone else's business.
I do not think I had ever set foot in the blacksmith's shop before. Dad bought my sword here. I knew he and the smith were familiar with each other. This was my first time going in alone. I pushed open the door and called out a hello. No one answered.
From the back room I heard the steady rhythm of metal being hammered, so I followed the sound. The workshop was hot and bright, the air shimmering from the forge. A kid about my age was controlling the flames with magic while the blacksmith hammered what looked like a shovel head into shape.
It took a moment before the smith noticed me standing there. I started to ask if he could repair my sword when the kid set down his tools, pulled off his apron and shirt, and I realized he was not human at all he was a beast man or a raccoonfolk to be sedic. There was something about him that seemed familiar to me
The blacksmith was instantly furious with me for some reason. He barked, "That sword is a custom model, and you wrecked it in one attack!" All the yelling I expected from my dad came pouring out of George the blacksmiths mouth instead. He kept ranting, but my mind drifted back to the kid beside him the raccoonfolk boy controlling the forge flames.
Something about him tugged at me. A pattern in his fur, the shape of his eyes, the way he held himself. It gnawed at the back of my mind until the answer finally clicked.
Without thinking, I switched to English.
"Who are you really?"
The boy froze. His ears twitched. Then he looked at me with a stunned expression, as if he had just seen a ghost.
"Joker," he said.
George finished his rant only to realize we were not paying attention. We were both talking in a strange language when George asked where did you learn to speak like that.
I kept my face straight and said and at the last minute said it was a made‑up language. I did not thing the whole reincarnation thing would go over very well. No way was I giving away where we had really learned it. We were only six, after all. he probably just chalked it up to kids being kids.
I reluctantly handed over the coin I had earned from killing the boar. Then I asked if Jevon could come play after he finished working.
George lit up at that.
"Go on, boy. You are probably out of mana anyway."
And then it hit me the reason he was so happy.
Beastfolk kids did not normally get invited to play with human kids.
But to me, Jevon was not "beastfolk."
He was Joker my friend from another life.
It was like old times; we became best friends all over again. He told me about the slavers and what they did to his village. And how he ended up in the Black Forest, he wandered into the fog on his last attack, passed out, and woke up in the village. The blacksmith took him in, wanting an extra hand in the workshop. George puts on a tough guy act, but you can tell he cares about Joven. I told him about my life here in the village, about my amazing family, and the luck I had in the village. We started out our morning workouts together just like old times. This time free with a whole new life ahead of us.
After a while, one more "victim" joined us in class. Miss Bailey was amazed the moment she realized Jevon was a fire magician. He only had talent for fire magic, but just like in our old life, he had that same strange attraction to burning things. It was not malicious. Just instinctual, like fire called to him.
Because his ability was something he had picked up on his own, he had zero formal training. Even so, he could cast without incantations. He did not even know incantations were a thing. Miss Bailey nearly dropped her chalk the first time she saw him ignite a flame.
She actually dropped it when he accidentally set Anna's dress on fire.
On top of that, he was incredibly dexterous quick hands, quick feet, quick reflexes all thanks to his raccoonfolk blood. Watching him move, it was obvious he was built for speed and precision.
And just like that, our little class grew by one more reincarnated troublemaker.
We were constantly skipping class, and Miss Bailey made it her personal mission to chase us down. Me and Joker turned it into a game. The daily round of cat and mouse where we were always the mice and she was always two steps behind us, shouting our names like a battle cry.
Whenever we finally made it home, Anna would chew us out. She would stand there with her hands on her hips, lecturing us about responsibility and how much trouble we were going to get into. She sounded exactly like Mom when she did it, which only made it harder not to laugh.
Of course, both of us being in trouble was nothing new. It was practically part of our routine at that point.
We were usually in the forest, swimming in the pond, or playing adventure with the other kids. But whenever we went into town, some of the older villagers gave us strange looks. To them, a beastfolk kid and a human kid spending time together was practically blasphemy. Tradition ran deep here, and old habits died hard.
Still, we did not care. We had our own world. There was a huge tree on the hillside near my house thick roots, wide branches, and a perfect view of the village below. That became our meeting spot whenever we decided to make a run for it out of class. It was our hideout, our headquarters, our sanctuary from Miss Bailey's lectures and the judgmental stares of the elders.
Up there, under that tree, it did not matter what species we were.
Time moved fast, and somewhere along the way, Joker became like a brother to me. By the time we were celebrating my eighth birthday, our little group had grown into something solid.
I was intermediate in the Dark Style of swordsmanship and still appreciated the other two styles… though honestly, who needs to defend when you can strike first? Anna was advancing in wind and water magic and getting steady with healing spells. Joey was intermediate with all four elements. He is a prodigy through and through. Joker was advanced in fire magic, though he never stuck to the book, so it was hard to tell what "level" he actually was. I am pretty sure he could use a bit of wind magic, too, but in his own words, "More air makes the fire burn hotter," which only made his spells even more terrifying.
The celebration for Joker and me was small. We really were like brothers from different species. Our birthday was just close friends and family. George the blacksmith, my parents, Helen's parents… all of them drinking way too much. That was when Operation Sneak Booze was born.
When Anna heard the plan, she gave me a look that said everything:
You are going to get in trouble again.
And honestly, she was not wrong.
Of course, Joker and I were the ringleaders of the plan. We waited until all the parents were good and drunk, the perfect time to strike. Each of us kids were supposed to sneak a mug and make a clean getaway.
But as we were slipping out the door toward the living room, Helen tripped over the doorway. She hit the floor with a thud loud enough to wake the dead.
Every parent snapped awake at once.
Yeah… none of us could sit right for the next few days.
During that time, my dad had been trying to convince Mayor Turner to let the village build a proper school, a place where all the kids could learn together. It was a progressive idea for this world. Education here was not like in my old life, where it was free and public. Here, learning was a privilege for the rich. Families with money hired tutors, just like my dad had done when he brought Miss Bailey to Springhol. There are a few private academies in the kingdom they are in bigger cities. There are a few schools in the capital a general university, a military academy, and a magic university. These were places for people with the money and talent to attend. Just like any university scholarship where only awarded to the most talented people. The kingdom could not afford to waste talented people on class systems.
Despite all the harassment she had endured over the years from two rowdy boys, Miss Bailey still wanted to keep teaching us. She loved the idea of a real school. In fact, the whole thing had started because I mentioned it to my dad, and he passed the idea along to the mayor.
But Mayor Turner was an old head. He insisted the village kids did not need to learn to read, write, or do math. "Farmers don't need books," he said. "They need strong backs."
Then the lord of the domain heard about the proposal.
And just like that, the mayor was outranked.
What had been dismissed as a foolish idea suddenly became a "brilliant initiative for the future of the frontier." Funny how fast opinions change when nobles get involved.
The whole village got in involved in building the school. I was not anything to big just one class room an office for the teacher the desks where one long bench with a table top.
Life was quiet for the most part. A beautiful warm summer day, the kind where the air feels lazy and the sun hangs heavy. Our whole group was gathered under the shade of the big tree our favorite hangout spot.
Joker was sharpening a small dagger, the metal whispering against the whetstone. I was taking practice swings with my sword, trying to make each one cleaner than the last. Anna sat with her back against the trunk, reading through a stack of spell scrolls. Joey was arguing with her about something probably her "babying him too much," as he put it. Helen was bright red with embarrassment, hovering near Joey like she always did. It was a typical day.
I stopped swinging and asked Joker what he thought would be fun today. He shrugged his shoulders and gave me that I don't know look he always used when he was bored.
Anna suggested we go for a swim.
I wasn't in the mood.
Then Joey said we could go hunt horned rabbits.
I told him rabbits were too easy now there is no challenge left in them. Everyone groaned in agreement.
That is when Joker said, "What about the forest?"
His voice dropped a little when he said it. He still had vivid memories of the shadow wolves in those woods. He knew they would be more of a challenge. There were white stags in there too rare, but incredible eating. He told me again how he had almost died out there, how he did not even know how he ended up at Springhold afterward. He had been sure he was going to die.
I thought about it. Then I told Joey and Helen to run back to the house and grab us some food for snacks. As soon as they were out of earshot, I leaned toward Joker and said we needed to leave before they got back. I knew Joey he would follow us, and of course Helen would follow him. I was not about to drag them into something that could get them killed.
Me and Joker started planning our route when Anna cut in.
"What about me?"
I looked at her and said, "I figured you were too much of a do‑gooder to join us."
A flash of anger crossed her eyes.
"Someone has to keep you two from getting yourselves killed."
And just like that, the three of us were on our way to the Dark Forest.
With each step into the forest, the familiar sounds of the village faded behind us, replaced by the eerie quiet that always settled beneath the canopy. The trees were so thick they swallowed the sunlight, leaving the air cold and dim. We spotted the tracks of a great boar, but no sign of a white stag. We had barely crossed into the forest when I asked the group what they wanted to do.
Joker immediately said, "Let's go for it," and Anna, though hesitant, nodded. Maybe it was naïve, maybe it was just plain stupidity, but we left the path anyway and followed the tracks deeper into the forest.
The ancient trees twisted around us like a labyrinth. It felt like we'd been walking for hours, though we could still see the faint smoke from the village far behind us. As we walked, the air grew colder. Anna clung to Joker's sleeve, and Joker began to tremble as he remembered the last time he'd been in these woods.
That was when the fog rolled in. I had never seen Joker this scared. He whispered, to himself "Well… nothing here," and started to turn back. Maybe we were too young, too confident, or just too foolish to realize that going back was not going to be simple. Because the moment we turned around, a low growl echoed through the trees. A shadow wolf stepped out from the mist.
I drew my sword as two more emerged from the underbrush. I lunged forward with a Dark Strike, Removing the lead wolfs leg. Before I could lunch another attack a second wolf rushed me, and he bit down on me as blood ran down my side. Joker reacted instantly, launching a fire arrow at the wolf that had his jaws around my waste to witch turned the wolf to ash. Anna knelt beside me, as I heard her enchantment her hands glowing as she tried to stop the bleeding.
Two more wolves charged. Joker struck the one in the back with a fire ball fire spell, and I managed to block the next attack I countered killing the wolf. But for every wolf we cut down, another appeared from the fog. Anna was tiring, Joker's flames were burning hotter and wilder, and I was struggling to stay on my feet.
Then the Alpha arrived. A massive wolf, scars all over his body and one‑eyed, stepped into the clearing. Its presence alone made the others circle tighter around us. I had wanted a challenge and here I was, facing something far beyond what I could chew.
I launched another Dark Strike at the Alpha, but my blade did not even cut into its hide. It countered by biting into me as blood went everywhere, and I felt myself hit the ground hard. My vision blurred, the world spinning. The last thing I saw before everything went dark was a volley of arrows cutting through the fog, striking the wolves around us.