"Master..."

In my first life, I was just another regular person. I had no extraordinary talents, no grand ambitions, just the ordinary dreams and struggles that come with everyday existence. That changed in a single moment of courage—or perhaps recklessness. One night, walking home from work, I saw someone being mugged in an alley. Without thinking, I intervened. I managed to save the person, but it cost me my life. As I lay there, bleeding out, the sound of approaching sirens filled the air. The paramedics did everything they could, but I slipped away, fading into darkness.

When I next opened my eyes, it was to the sight of an unfamiliar ceiling. I was being carried by a woman with radiant blonde hair and a soft, kind smile. She was Zenith Greyrat, my mother in this new world. Beside her was a tall, muscular man with a confident grin, my father, Paul Greyrat. Their voices were soothing, even though I didn’t understand a word they were saying. My second chance at life had begun.

At first, I thought I was dreaming or hallucinating. But as days turned into weeks, I realized this was no dream. By the time I was six months old, it became clear to me: I had been reincarnated into another world. The concept of an isekai was something I’d only encountered in fiction, yet here I was, living it. A cliche? Sure. But I wasn’t going to question it too deeply. After all, this was a second chance, a rare opportunity to live my life the way I wanted.

Life as a baby wasn’t all that bad, to be honest. My mother, Zenith, was a beautiful and gentle woman who showered me with love and affection. My father, Paul, was dashing and strong, often showing off his swordsmanship around the house. We even had a maid, Lilia, who had striking red hair and a reserved demeanor. Lilia seemed to have a peculiar attitude toward me, but I wouldn’t understand why until much later.

By the time I turned one, I began piecing together the language of this world. The characters were foreign, but with time and effort, I managed to learn how to read and write them. It was fascinating to see how my adult mind could pick up things so much faster than an actual child’s. Over the next year, my comprehension grew, and so did my understanding of my situation.

At the age of two, I couldn’t resist the temptation to mess with Lilia. She was so prim and proper, always taking her duties seriously. I started playing harmless little pranks on her, like hiding her cleaning tools or making eerie noises. I’d always laugh it off in my head, but poor Lilia became convinced I was possessed by a demon.

One day, during one of my solitary experiments in a small room, I discovered magic. Trying to mimic the motions and words I’d seen in old books, I accidentally unleashed a spell that blew up the entire room. The explosion sent shockwaves through the house, and my parents came running.

“What happened?! Are you hurt?” Zenith asked, kneeling down to inspect me.

Paul stood in the doorway, arms crossed, his expression torn between concern and curiosity. “Was that… magic?”

Zenith’s eyes lit up with pride. “Paul, this is incredible! Our child has magical talent!”

Paul frowned slightly, shaking his head.* “Maybe. But I still think they should learn the sword. Magic can’t solve everything.”

By the time I turned three, my parents made a decision. They called me to the living room, where I saw a petite girl with short blue hair and a pointed hat. Her name was Roxy Migurdia, a wandering magician. My parents introduced her as my magic tutor. At first, Roxy seemed skeptical about taking on a student so young.

“Are you sure about this?” Roxy asked, glancing between Zenith and Paul. “Children this young usually don’t have the focus for magic training.”

Paul chuckled. “Oh, don’t worry. You’ll see soon enough.”

Zenith smiled warmly. “Just give them a chance, Miss Migurdia. You might be surprised.”

I stepped forward, eager to prove myself. Without a word, I focused my energy and summoned a small sphere of water in my hand. It floated there, shimmering in the light, a testament to the progress I’d made on my own.

Roxy’s eyes widened in surprise. “Silent casting…?” She studied me for a moment before nodding. “Alright. I’ll take you on as my student. Let’s begin your training.”

Thus began a new chapter of my life, filled with rigorous lessons and magical exploration under Roxy’s guidance. Over the following months, Roxy introduced me to the fundamentals of magic, pushing me to refine my control and expand my repertoire. Though stern at times, her patience and dedication made her an exceptional teacher.

As time passed, I began to understand just how vast this world was. Roxy’s stories of her travels painted vivid pictures of distant lands and powerful magicians. My curiosity grew, and with it, my desire to see the world beyond our small village. Little did I know, my journey had only just begun.

Roxy's training.

Several months had passed since Roxy Migurdia began tutoring me in magic. She was patient, knowledgeable, and efficient in her teaching methods. Every lesson was a step into a fascinating new world of possibilities. However, I couldn’t help but notice how captivating she was. Her petite frame, delicate features, and striking blue hair gave her an almost ethereal presence. I’d catch myself staring now and then, but I never said anything. After all, she was my teacher, and I respected her deeply.

I quickly established myself as an excellent student. Whether it was theory or practice, I absorbed everything Roxy taught with an eagerness that seemed to surprise even her. When she wasn’t teaching, I often found myself drawn to her side, silently observing or listening as she went about her day. Roxy, for her part, seemed to find my quiet presence endearing and often indulged my unspoken curiosity.

One evening, as the setting sun cast a golden hue over the fields outside our home, I found myself sitting beside her. She had just finished a long day of lessons and was resting under the shade of a tree, her pointed hat tilted slightly to shield her face from the light.

Roxy noticed me looking at her and raised an eyebrow. “Something on your mind?” she asked, her tone light.

I gestured toward her hair and tilted my head questioningly. She seemed to understand what I meant and smiled softly. “Ah, my hair…” She reached up and ran her fingers through the short, azure strands. “It’s a trait of my people, the Migurd tribe. We’re known for our blue hair and…” She hesitated, her smile fading slightly. “…and our ability to use telepathy.”

My eyes widened slightly, and I pointed at my head, mimicking a telepathic gesture. Roxy chuckled, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “Yes, telepathy. We can communicate without speaking. Though I… am not particularly good at it.” She looked away, her expression becoming distant. “Among my tribe, telepathy is second nature, but for me, it’s always been… difficult. That’s one of the reasons I left my village. I wanted to explore the world and find my own way.”

Her voice was calm, but there was an undertone of sadness. I nodded slowly, offering a small, reassuring smile. Roxy seemed to notice and relaxed slightly. “Thank you,” she said quietly, a hint of a smile returning to her lips.

From that day on, I felt a deeper connection to Roxy. She wasn’t just a teacher; she was someone with her own struggles and dreams. And as her student, I was determined to make her proud, not just for her sake but also because I genuinely admired her.

Over the following months, my magical abilities continued to grow under Roxy’s guidance. We practiced spells ranging from basic water manipulation to more advanced techniques like fire and earth magic. Each success brought a sense of accomplishment, but it was the moments outside of our lessons that truly made our bond special.

As the seasons changed, so did our dynamic. Roxy became less formal and more relaxed around me. She’d share stories of her travels—tales of vast deserts, bustling cities, and towering mountains. Each story painted a vivid picture of the world beyond our little village, fueling my desire to one day see it all for myself.

Despite her calm demeanor, I could see the pride in her eyes whenever I mastered a new spell. And though she didn’t say it outright, I knew she was beginning to see me not just as a student but as someone with the potential to achieve great things. Little did either of us know, this was only the beginning of a journey that would shape both our lives in ways we couldn’t yet imagine.

a pleasent birthday..

The day of my fifth birthday arrived, and the house was alive with energy. Zenith and Lilia had spent the entire morning in the kitchen, the aroma of baking cake wafting through the air, mingling with the scent of freshly picked flowers. Paul was busy polishing something in the living room, a mischievous smile on his face. Even Roxy seemed uncharacteristically animated, though she tried to hide it under her usual composed demeanor.

When the time came, the family gathered in the dining room. A modest yet beautifully decorated cake was placed in front of me, candles flickering in anticipation. Zenith clasped her hands together with a warm smile.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart!” she said, her voice filled with love.

Lilia, standing to the side, nodded respectfully but with a small smile of her own. “Happy birthday, young master.”

Paul grinned broadly, ruffling my hair. “Another year older and stronger! You’re becoming a fine young man.”

Roxy stood quietly for a moment before stepping forward. Her calm voice carried a rare softness. “Happy birthday. You’ve come far, and I’m proud of you.”

I glanced around the room, my heart swelling with gratitude. I couldn’t speak, but the smile on my face and the way my eyes lit up said more than words ever could. Zenith chuckled, lighting the candles. “Go ahead, make a wish.”

I closed my eyes, silently making a wish, then blew out the candles. Cheers and applause filled the room. Zenith and Lilia began cutting the cake, serving generous slices to everyone. As we enjoyed the sweet treat, Paul stood up, holding something wrapped in cloth.

“Now, it’s time for your gifts,” he announced.

He set the bundle on the table and unwrapped it, revealing two swords: one wooden, the other real, with a gleaming blade. “This wooden sword is for your practice, and the real one… well, that’s for when you’re ready to handle it responsibly. Every strong man needs a good sword, and I’m sure you’ll make me proud.”

I picked up the wooden sword first, giving it a few experimental swings. Paul nodded approvingly. Then I carefully touched the real sword, marveling at its craftsmanship. Zenith stepped forward next, holding a large, leather-bound book.

“This is from me,” she said, placing the book in my hands. “A botanical encyclopedia. It’s filled with information about plants, their uses, and their properties. I thought it might help with your magic or even just exploring the world around you.”

I opened the book, flipping through the beautifully illustrated pages. My eyes sparkled with excitement, and I gave Zenith a grateful nod. Roxy, who had been standing quietly, finally approached. She held a slender object wrapped in cloth.

“And this,” she said, unwrapping the object to reveal a wand, “is from me. A wand suitable for a mage of your caliber. With this, your magic will become even more refined and powerful. Consider it both a gift and a tool for your future.”

I carefully took the wand, feeling its smooth surface and intricate carvings. It was light yet sturdy, radiating a subtle magical energy. I looked up at Roxy, who gave me a small nod of encouragement. My heart swelled with pride and determination.

The celebration continued with laughter, stories, and a warm sense of family. However, as the evening wound down and the others began tidying up, Roxy approached me. Her expression was calm, but there was a hint of something bittersweet in her eyes.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” she said, her voice steady. “You’ve grown so much as a mage, and there’s nothing more I can teach you. You’re ready to stand on your own now. That…” She hesitated for a moment. “That means it’s time for me to go. Your graduation is coming soon.”

I froze, the weight of her words sinking in. Though I had known this day would come, I wasn’t prepared to hear it so soon. Roxy’s gaze softened as she placed a hand on my shoulder.

“This isn’t goodbye forever,” she said. “It’s the start of a new chapter for you. And I know you’ll achieve great things.”

I nodded slowly, trying to mask the mixture of emotions swirling within me. For now, I would focus on making her proud, no matter where life took me next.

A wholesome moment with roxy.

The days following my fifth birthday were a mix of joy and an odd, lingering tension. Two nights ago, I had accidentally stumbled upon something I shouldn’t have—Lilia leaning against the wall near my parents’ room. The faint sounds from within left no doubt about what was happening. Lilia’s flushed expression and hurried retreat only cemented the awkwardness of the moment. I tried to forget it, but the incident left a strange curiosity lingering in my mind.

Then, just days later, I had another similar encounter—this time with Roxy. I had been wandering the house, searching for her to ask a question about one of my spells, when I saw her leaning against the wall outside my parents’ room, her face unusually red. My heart skipped a beat. She looked so… different in that moment, so vulnerable. She didn’t notice me before walking away, leaving me rooted in place, confused and flustered.

After that, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Every time I saw Roxy, my chest tightened, and I felt warmth rise to my cheeks. It was an unfamiliar and overwhelming sensation. I realized I had developed a crush on her, my first real crush. And it was consuming me.

A few days later, I resolved to tell her how I felt. It was late afternoon, and Roxy was sitting under the large oak tree in the backyard, reading a book. I approached her quietly, my wand clutched in my hand like a talisman of courage. She glanced up as I neared, her expression softening with a small smile.

“What is it?” she asked, closing the book and giving me her full attention.

I hesitated, feeling my palms grow clammy. But I had come this far, and I couldn’t back out now. Taking a deep breath, I looked into her eyes and pointed to myself, then to her, and placed my hand over my heart.

Roxy tilted her head, a puzzled expression crossing her face. “What are you trying to say?”

I mimed writing, and she handed me a small notebook and pen from her bag. With trembling hands, I scribbled the words: "I like you. Not just as a teacher—I like you a lot."

Roxy read the note, her eyes widening in surprise. She let out a small laugh, though it wasn’t unkind. “You’re sweet,” she said, patting my head gently. “But you’re just a child. You don’t really understand these kinds of feelings yet.”

Her dismissal stung, but I shook my head fiercely, my determination unwavering. I wrote again: "I mean it. I’ll prove it to you."

Roxy’s expression softened further as she looked at me. She sighed and folded her hands in her lap. “You’re very earnest. I’ll give you that. But feelings like this can change as you grow older. You might not feel the same way in the future.”

I frowned, shaking my head again. My determination must have been written all over my face because Roxy gave me a long, thoughtful look before finally speaking.

“Alright,” she said, her tone gentle but firm. “If, fifteen years from now, you still feel this way… If you still think you love me, then tell me properly. As an adult.”

Her words were like a lifeline. It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no either. I nodded eagerly, a small smile breaking through my nervousness. Roxy chuckled softly, shaking her head. “You’re a strange one,” she said, but there was a warmth in her voice that reassured me.

From that day on, I threw myself even more into my training, determined to grow stronger and prove myself. Roxy’s words became a beacon of hope, something to strive for. And while I didn’t know what the future held, I knew one thing for certain—I would do everything in my power to make her proud.

the graduation exam of Roxy.

Roxy announced my graduation examination one sunny morning. The news filled me with a mixture of excitement and dread.

“The test will be held outside the house,” she declared, her tone firm.

I hesitated, my hands gripping the edges of the table. My chest tightened at the thought of leaving the familiar confines of our home, of stepping into the unpredictable outside world where prying eyes might linger too long.

Roxy must have noticed my unease because she folded her arms and gave me a stern look. “You’re ready,” she said. “And I won’t take no for an answer.”

I couldn’t argue with her. I simply nodded, swallowing my apprehension. The next day, we mounted a small horse-drawn cart, and Roxy took the reins. As we rode through the village, my anxiety grew. The villagers’ gazes seemed to burn into me, their whispers a phantom chorus of judgment. But then I realized their eyes weren’t on me at all; they were on Roxy.

Despite being a demon, she had earned the villagers’ respect. Her blue hair and gentle demeanor seemed to command admiration rather than fear. Sitting beside her, I began to feel her trustworthy presence radiate like a shield, calming my nerves. I straightened my back and allowed myself to breathe more easily.

After an hour of travel, we arrived at a desolate grassland. The rolling fields stretched endlessly under the open sky, the soft wind carrying the scent of wildflowers. Roxy stepped down from the cart and motioned for me to follow.

“This is the perfect spot,” she said, surveying the area. She turned to me, her expression serious. “Your test is simple but difficult. Watch closely.”

She extended her wand, her movements deliberate and precise. Closing her eyes, she began chanting the incantation for a Water Saint-level spell. The words flowed like a song, each syllable carrying power. The air grew heavy, and dark clouds began to gather above us, swirling with an almost sentient energy.

“Cumulonimbus,” she whispered, her voice steady and commanding.

The clouds erupted, unleashing a torrential downpour. Lightning crackled within the storm, illuminating the sky in bursts of electric blue. The grass beneath our feet shimmered with water, the droplets reflecting the chaotic brilliance of the spell. Roxy held the spell for several minutes before dispersing the storm with a wave of her wand. The skies cleared as quickly as they had darkened, leaving only the soaked grass as evidence of the spell’s power.

She turned to me, her eyes alight with expectation. “Your task is to replicate the spell and maintain its effects for an hour. Begin when you’re ready.”

I nodded, gripping my wand tightly. My mind raced. Chanting the incantation, I summoned the spell, but instead of purely relying on magical force, I applied knowledge from my previous world. I visualized atmospheric systems, focusing on the principles of condensation and airflow to stabilize the storm. By fine-tuning the spell’s energy output, I managed to sustain the storm without exhausting my mana.

Roxy watched in stunned silence as the minutes turned into an hour. When the time elapsed, I released the spell, and the storm dissolved into nothingness. The grassland was left glistening in the sunlight.

She approached me slowly, her expression a mixture of disbelief and pride. “You… you’ve done it,” she said, her voice soft. “You’ve mastered a Water Saint-level spell and shown ingenuity beyond your years. I hereby grant you the title of Water Saint.”

I bowed my head in gratitude, the weight of her words sinking in. This moment felt monumental, not just as a milestone in magic but as a testament to everything Roxy had taught me.

The next morning, Roxy prepared to leave. Standing by the cart, she handed me a small, intricately carved amulet.

“This is an amulet of the Migurd tribe,” she explained. “If you ever encounter trouble, especially with demons, this will help. Keep it close.”

I took the amulet, feeling its cool surface against my palm. Roxy placed her hands on my shoulders and leaned down slightly.

“You’ve grown so much,” she said, her tone tinged with melancholy. “I’ve taught you all I can. Now it’s time for you to continue your journey on your own.”

She hesitated for a moment, then leaned in close to my ear. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “And about that… proper confession. If it’s real, and you still feel the same in fifteen years, come find me. Tell me then.”

Her words left me frozen, a warmth spreading through my chest. I looked up at her, and for a moment, neither of us said anything. Then, with a small smile, she turned and climbed onto the cart.

As she rode away, I stood there, clutching the amulet and watching her silhouette shrink into the horizon. The respect and gratitude I felt for her were immeasurable. Roxy had not only taught me magic but also given me the courage to step into the world beyond the walls of my home. Her departure marked the end of one chapter and the beginning of another—a promise lingering in the air like the remnants of a dissipated storm.

my dear {{user}}..

A few months after Roxy's departure, a letter arrived at the Greyrat household, sealed with the emblem of a noble family. Zenith handed it to me with a warm smile, and I carefully opened it, immediately recognizing the meticulous handwriting inside. It was from Roxy.

Dear {{user}},

I hope this letter finds you well. I have safely arrived at my new place of employment—a castle situated in the heart of the kingdom. My role here is to tutor a young prince in the art of magic, much like I did for you.

The prince, however, is… let’s say, a unique case. He reminds me of you in some ways, but his behavior leaves much to be desired. He has a mischievous streak and a penchant for testing boundaries, including my patience. At times, he dares to touch me inappropriately, claiming it is out of curiosity or mischief. Naturally, I cannot allow such behavior to go unchecked, so I have had to discipline him—nothing too harsh, but enough to ensure he understands that respect is non-negotiable.

Despite his antics, I am doing my best to guide him. I remind myself of the determination and respect you always showed during our lessons. Thinking of you gives me strength and patience.

I miss our time together, {{user}}. You were an exceptional student, and teaching you brought me great joy. I hope you’re continuing to grow, not only in magic but also as a person. Remember the promise we made—your proper confession. If, in fifteen years, you still hold onto those feelings, I will be waiting to hear them again.

For now, though, I want you to focus on your journey. The world is vast and filled with opportunities to learn and grow. I have no doubt you will become someone truly remarkable. Never forget that I am proud of you, and I wish you nothing but success and happiness.

With warm regards and the fondest memories, Roxy Migurdia

As I read her words, a mixture of emotions washed over me. Her absence was still deeply felt, but knowing she was thinking of me and wishing me well gave me a renewed sense of purpose. I carefully folded the letter and placed it in a safe spot, a tangible reminder of the bond we shared and the promise that would continue to shape my journey.