By now, I had a routine.
Wake up early. Head to the training hall. Practice until I'm drenched in sweat. Then library until the sun dips low behind the manor walls. Repeat.
Father suddenly got caught up in work—lots of it. Piles of documents and messengers coming and going. I don't know what it's about exactly, but it must be important. He rarely has time to pick me from library by now. But he always finds time to smile, to pat my head before disappearing into his study.
Mother Elizabeth fills in the gaps. She visits me often now. Sometimes during my reading hours, sometimes just before dusk. She insists on playing games with me, especially hide and seek. I go along with it. It's not really my thing anymore, but I pretend to be clumsy and giggle when she finds me too easily. I cling to her when she hugs me. I let her kiss my forehead and whisper sweet things that make my chest feel tight.
She isn't my real mother. Not from my past life, anyway. But her warmth… it's real. Gentle. Loving. Something I never really had before.
I store every moment like treasure. Every touch. Every laugh. I don't want to forget it. Ever.
The rest of my time belongs to books and steel.
The library feels like a second home now. The scent of old parchment and wood polish is comforting. I've been coming for so long that the locals recognize me as the young lord who reads more than he talks. Some of them smile and wave. A few hand me flowers or small gifts. Apples, grapes, even hand-carved toys. They are kind. I don't quite know how to return the favor, but I smile and bow politely. That seems to be enough.
The old librarian, Gerod, always greets me the same way—soft smile, a gentle nod, and a book handed over if I can't reach it. I think he knows how important this place is to me. He never asks why I come alone.
And just like that, a few years pass by. Quietly and steadily.
I'm five now.
It's strange to say it. Five years old, and yet I feel older—sometimes far too old. But that's just the part of me that remembers another world. This one… this life… feels more real now. More precious.
My mornings are still filled with sword swings. Wooden, of course. I'm not allowed to use real ones yet—not until the Seth Trial, which happens when I reach twelve years.
The guards always praise me.
"Young master's got fine posture."
"He'll grow into a dashing warrior, no doubt."
Sometimes they even teach new recruits by using me as an example. It's strange. I'm proud… but it also makes me feel watched.
Today, I was mid-swinging when Father finally returned to the training ground. His eyes were tired, but he was smiling.
"Arile, come here."
I dropped the stance immediately and rushed over.
"Yes, Father?"
"I've arranged for a sword instructor. She'll be arriving next week."
My heart skipped.
"Really?!"
"Yes."
Without thinking, I ran forward and hugged him. I was too happy to keep my composure.
"Thank you! Thank you, Father!"
He placed his hand on my head, gently ruffling my hair.
"You're growing well. I want you to become a powerful man. Strong—not just in body, but in heart."
I nodded. I would. I would live up to it all.
Then he mentioned it.
"The Seth Trial. You'll take it after seven years."
I knew a little about it already, but hearing it from him made it real.
"It's when the sword chooses you, right?"
"Yes, Each participant stands before the Sword Stones on the grand hall of Duitry. If the sword accepts you, it becomes bound to your soul. That sword and only that sword will allow you to draw out your full potential."
He looked me dead in the eye.
"So train hard, Arile. If you want to be great, you need a great sword. And for that, you must be ready. A sword of immense power will only choose someone worthy."
I felt a lump in my throat.
"Who's the instructor, Father?"
"Her name is Yennerfer Valmonth. She's nine years old. Already reached Disciple rank."
I blinked. I couldn't hide my surprise.
"Disciple? Isn't that a bit… low?"
He smiled knowingly.
"She's not just anyone. She's a blooming genius from the House of Valmonths."
That name… I'd heard it before. A respected noble family known for both politics and martial strength.
"This will strengthen our relationship with the Valmonths. And it will help both of you grow. Yennefer wants access to our library—our collection is famous, even among nobility. In exchange, she'll guide your training."
I wanted to protest. I didn't care for diplomacy or alliances. I wanted a real teacher—someone with experience, not someone barely older than me.
But I bit my tongue.
If she was already a Disciple at nine… maybe there was something special about her. I am just a low Novice right now. And besides, Father seemed confident. That was enough for now.
He ruffled my hair again.
"And it's time you learn about girls too."
"What do you mean?"
He laughed heartily.
"You'll see."
I didn't really get it. Girls were just… girls. Not different from boys except maybe in the way they talked or dressed. But the way Father said it, I felt like there was some hidden rule I hadn't figured out yet.
Still… I guess I'll find out soon enough.
One week.
One week until my new teacher arrives.
For now, I'll keep training.