Wet. Dark. Warm.
I knew this feeling by now. The womb. I was being born again.
Fourth life. Fourth chance.
Please be better. Please be better. Please be better.
I repeated it like a mantra.
The contractions started. My new mother was going through labor. I could hear her screaming, feel the pressure.
Then suddenly, cold air. Bright light. Loud sounds.
Someone caught me. Lifted me up. Cleaned me off.
"Yeh ti skool ekil uoy tog a yob!" a woman's voice said.
Not this again. Another language to learn.
"Yllaer, tel em ees mih!" a man's voice responded.
I forced my baby eyes open. My new mother was holding me. She looked tired but happy. My new father was standing beside her, smiling.
They both looked... normal. Kind even.
"He's beautiful," my mother said in that backwards language. "He looks like royalty."
She paused, thinking.
"Let's name him Prince."
I almost laughed. Almost. Prince. Again. Really?
The man - my father - nodded. "Prince. I like it."
Over the next few months, I observed this new world carefully.
No magic. Good. The last magical world traumatized me.
No advanced technology either, but that was fine. I didn't need flying cars.
This world seemed medieval-ish, but different. There were ships. Lots of ships. And I heard people talking about something called the Navy.
When I was about eight months old and everyone was asleep, I snuck out of my crib. My baby body was clumsy, but I managed.
I found my father's books and started reading.
The language wasn't too hard to figure out once I saw it written down. After three lives of learning new languages, I was getting good at it.
The world was called Sitron.
Two continents. Northern continent - large and populated. Southern continent - smaller but still significant.
The Navy controlled the seas. They were like a military organization, but they didn't answer to any single king. They had their own rules, their own laws.
Pirates roamed the seas too. Lots of them. It was a world of maritime adventure and danger.
Kings existed, but their power was mostly on land. At sea, the Navy ruled.
I was born in the Southern Continent, in a small coastal town.
And for the first time in four lives, nothing immediately went wrong.
My parents loved me. Actually loved me.
My father was a fisherman. He'd wake up early, go out to sea, and come back with fish to sell.
My mother ran a small stall at the market, selling the fish my father caught.
We weren't rich. We lived in a small house near the beach. But we were happy.
Really, genuinely happy.
.
.
.
Years passed.
I grew up peacefully. No abandonment. No slavery. No random deaths.
Just a normal childhood.
By the time I was ten, I could read and write fluently. My parents thought I was naturally smart. They didn't know I had memories from three previous lives.
and the crybaby thing? it was long gone.
I read every book I could get my hands on. History, geography, stories about pirates and adventurers.
This world was interesting. No magic, but it had its own kind of excitement.
When I was fifteen, I asked my father if I could help him fish.
"You sure, son? It's hard work."
"I'm sure."
He taught me everything. How to cast nets. How to read the weather. How to navigate by stars.
I loved it. The freedom of being at sea. The challenge of catching fish. The simple satisfaction of hard work.
For the first time in four lives, I felt... content.
No grand destiny. No cheat powers. No being special.
Just a normal life with loving parents.
And it was enough.
.
.
.
By the time I was seventeen, I was known in town as a smart, hard-working young man.
I helped my father fish. I helped my mother at the market. I read books in my free time.
People liked me. I had friends. A normal social life.
I thought about my past lives sometimes. The bullying on Earth. The slavery in the magic world. The dog shit death in the mundane world.
All of that felt like distant nightmares now.
This was real. This life. This world.
I had finally found my place.
One evening, I was sitting on the beach with my father. We'd just finished a long day of fishing.
"Prince," he said, "you're seventeen now. Almost a man."
"Yeah."
"What do you want to do with your life?"
I thought about it. Honestly, I hadn't thought that far ahead. I was just happy to be alive.
"I don't know," I said. "Maybe keep fishing with you. Help mother at the market. Live a simple life."
He smiled. "That's good. There's nothing wrong with a simple life. As long as you're happy."
"I am happy, father."
And I meant it.
The sun was setting over the ocean. Orange and pink painted the sky. Waves gently crashed on the shore.
"This world is beautiful," I thought.
No magic meant no magical disasters. No monsters meant no random attacks. Just normal human problems that could be solved with normal human solutions.
After three failed lives, I finally understood what I wanted.
Not power. Not adventure. Not being special.
Just peace. Just love. Just family.
I had that now.
My father stood up and stretched. "Come on, son. Your mother's making fish stew tonight."
I got up and followed him home.
We walked through the town. People greeted us. We greeted back.
Everything was normal. Everything was good.
I didn't know it then, but this was the last peaceful day of my life.
Tomorrow, everything would change.
Tomorrow, the pirates would come.
But tonight, I was happy.
Tonight, I ate dinner with my parents. We laughed and talked about our day. We made plans for the future.
Tonight, I went to bed thinking about how lucky I was.
Fourth life was finally the good one.
Finally.
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