Flowery Reincarnation

ㅤ

Merlin awoke, a nostalgic sensation washing over him as he opened his amethyst eyes, which now glowed with a mysterious light. His small body pulsed with mana, overflowing in a way that it shouldn't be able to handle.

"No way…!" came the shocked voice of the blue-haired mage, Roxy, who held him, eyes wide as she witnessed the massive wound on the boy's chest knitting itself closed under a golden glow.

In some inexplicable way, he felt whole, as though a missing piece of himself had just slotted into place. A faint smile tugged at his lips as Merlin watched the water mage's panic.

"Y-You!? You're awake!?" she stammered, her voice a blend of disbelief and relief.

Tears pricked Roxy's eyes; she had been seconds away from bearing the unbearable guilt of a kid's death. Her trembling form kept him close in an embrace so frail that it seemed he might slip away at any moment.

"Hah," Merlin sputtered, spitting out the blood that still stained his lips as he chuckled softly, taking in the vibrant sky above. The world was no longer dull and gray; instead, everything around him pulsed with an extraordinary array of colors, a connection reserved for those touched by ancient magics.

"You're a water mage, aren't you? It's not very fitting to be a crybaby over a stranger," Even with blood dripping from his mouth, Merlin still found something to tease the mood with his awful humor.

Under any other circumstances, Roxy would have been angry at his words, but in the face of his return, she could only tighten her grip.

Akin to a dream, everything in his surroundings blurred and sharpened in contrast to overwhelming colors.

The landscape around him was a blur, colors intensifying in contrast to his overwhelming senses. Petals from nearby flowers danced in the breeze, swirling around him in what felt like a celebration of his survival. The world was alive, and vibrant, each blade of grass and each leaf shimmering with a pulse that echoed the earth's heartbeat.

"Don't try to move!" Roxy urged, worry sharp in her eyes as she sensed the fluctuating mana around him, her staff sparking with residual energy. Unsure of the phenomenon taking place, she forced herself to stay focused, her hands steady despite the wonder surrounding them.

"It's okay," The boy murmured, his voice distant, dreamlike, a soothing balm against her fraying nerves. "It's going to be alright. I can handle this."

Despite the flicker of pain edging his awareness, he felt surer than ever. The golden light that had sealed his wound throbbed gently, a reminder of the magic tethering him to the Garden, and the exhilaration of life surged through him.

Roxy's eyes searched his, her gaze lingering on a newfound mystery that had taken root within him, igniting some questions inside her. Her mana responded accordingly, "You're… really something else…" she whispered, breathless, her concern giving way to an awe that was hard to mask. "What on earth are you?"

As he prepared to face the looming threat, Merlin's heart raced, filled with a powerful anticipation. Mana surged around him, not just connecting him to the flora, but to those nearby as well.

He could feel it from the perspective of this world, the echoes of emotions agitating around him, and some of his primordial traits returning.

His father, lying close to death, just as he had moments ago; Mister Laws, frozen and paralyzed by the chaos that unfolded; Roxy, whose hope rekindled with every breath she took in the face of adversity. So many foreign yet achingly familiar sensations washed over him.

Desperation. Fear. Vengeance. Hope. Love.

All of it intertwined together. Each one resonated within, amplifying his understanding, and infusing him with purpose. He was not just fighting for distant goals; he was fighting for them. Paul, his companions, and all those who had been wronged.

An overwhelming realization hit him. These emotions weren't just labels he'd observed; they were alive and connected him in ways he had never understood. He remembered seeing them a long time ago. He could feel his father's anguish as if it were his own, Roxy's anxiety thick in the air, and Laws' quiet desperation, chilling and raw.

He had once called himself a creature of detachment, a half-incubus who used emotions as tools and a way to please his ego, never truly connecting with anyone. He could never really understand their weight.

Yet now, everything felt distinct. His father's agony was palpable, gnawing at him, pulling at his heart. It hurt, not just because he felt sympathy, but because he cared.

Desperation coursed through him, mixing with his own determination. He sensed Roxy's anxiety, tightness in the air, and Laws' resigned silence that sent chills down his spine. These weren't just words anymore; they were extensions that he could feel and relate with. It existed as a shared fear of loss, vengeance a shared yearning to make things right, and the hope of a fragile but unbreakable light guiding forward.

He was a son, a friend, someone who genuinely started to care about the people by his side. Their sentiments fueled his decision, and the weight of their trust settled over him, steeling him for the battle ahead.

Calm down these raging thoughts.

This was the road he chose as a human, armed with these powers. Merlin took a steadying breath, centering himself amidst the storm of thoughts. The conversation he had before waking came to mind, echoing with irony.

He could almost hear the echo of his own laughter as he imagined the face of the girl who had once been willing to forsake her humanity for something greater.

In witnessing this irony of fate, what could he say other than the same? The image of his human mother's smile, his father's, and many others slowly crept into his beating heart.

"These people were smiling. I don't believe such a choice is a mistake."

Merlin laughed as he remembered the words he once heard from his pupil, solidifying his conclusion. He was truly in a blind spot.

Complicated matters are no longer such if you use simple answers.

And such thoughts are the domain of the most foolish.

Almost disgusting giggles escaped from his throat as he took on that nonsensical fiction.

It's not nonsense if Mystery is at work.

"Do you see? The beauty surrounding you? Until now you could only gaze at the portrait. Don't observe but illuminate it."

"Recognize the meaning behind it."

At that time, he couldn't tell why these words were so special.

"I don't understand any of this."

He shook his head.

Merlin stood, his senses a blend of heightened awareness and magical senses, barely registering Roxy's cries of caution. Drawn forward by an inner wall, he approached his father's crumpled form, his steps almost silent. Pink sparks of healing magic surged from his hands, knitting Paul's wounds, erasing pain and damage with a steady glow.

Through his amplified magical perception, Merlin felt the raw energy emanating from the nearby fallen blade—the black sword his father had wielded.

He could sense the sword's aura mingling with Paul's own though barely. The weapon held a fragment of his father's spirit but there was something greater mixed in between. Its power flickered, dense and wild, beckoning Merlin with a whisper of strength, as if it sensed his own transformation and was ready to answer his call in the looming struggle.

The sword pulsed with latent mana, dark and potent, like a storm bound within iron. Yet, the aura it exuded was unfamiliar to Merlin—its power was too refined, almost old, far beyond anything he'd sensed from his father. It held an elusive quality, nearly invisible, blending seamlessly with the surroundings. If not for Merlin's current control over the ambient mana, this abnormality might have slipped past him, unnoticed.

As he wrapped his hand around the hilt, a dream flashed before his eyes. With their mana inter-connected, Merlin saw the image. A lone man stood before a towering mountain, clad in robes reminiscent of a priest, yet portions of armor adorned his form. He held the sword aloft, pride and fierce determination etched in his stance. The very air fractured under the force of his sword.

Then, the vision faded, leaving Merlin blinking in silent understanding. So, that's how it is. He glanced down at the sword once more. This wasn't the original blade, merely a shadow crafted from remnants that had endured the unforgiving march of history. And yet, through the ages, it had preserved its purpose, holding onto its memory, unwilling to forget.

How fascinating, and yet ominously fitting, that such an artifact should now rest in Merlin's grasp. A soft chuckle echoed from within Merlin's mind, his inner demon amused at the joke.

With a slow, deliberate touch, Merlin began to channel his mana into the blade. Its dormant hunger flared to life, drinking in his immense reserves like a parched wasteland welcoming the flood. A blinding radiance ignited along the blade's edge, intensifying until it became difficult to look at directly.

Sensing imminent danger, the beast lunged, its skin hardening like steel as new scales scraped together, creating a chilling metallic sound. But it was already too late. With a single, precise swing, Merlin brought the sword down, and in that split-second, the ancient magic within the blade was unleashed to life. The air around it seemed to split, carrying a shockwave that cut through the monster cleanly, leaving it suspended in that final, helpless moment of disbelief.

When the dust settled, the beast lay divided in perfect symmetry, its two halves collapsing to the earth in shocking silence. Its eyes, earlier burning with primal fury, withered as they stared into nothingness, unable to grasp that its end had come with such effortless finality.

"I guess that's it," Merlin murmured, a hint of disappointment flickering across his face. For all the effort of wielding such a potent card, the beast had ultimately been undone with almost insulting ease. Yet, in some way, he was relieved he hadn't had to resort to flinging spells. There was something satisfying in handling it with a bit of flair, as it should be.

As he mulled over his triumph, his eyes rolled up, feeling a wave of dizziness before gravity betrayed him. With a resounding splash, Merlin found himself face-first in the mud.

ㅤ

ㅤ

After Merlin woke from his long nap, he and Paul were met with the full fury of Zenith, who looked every bit like a wrathful demon. Merlin had never seen her this angry, and he could feel her emotions radiating, matching her expression exactly.

"Sorry, Mother. I won't do it again… I just thought Father needed a bit of help since he asked for it."

"Excuse me?" Paul looked dumbfounded. As Zenith glanced at him, Merlin stuck his tongue out playfully at Paul. "Rudy, I thought we were comrades now!"

"Ha, sorry, just kidding! The real reason—"

Zenith's chilling glare silenced them both, and they quickly fell into line, listening to her lecture without protest.

Their punishment was set: Merlin would assist the villagers with daily chores, and Paul would chop enough wood to last the entire winter.

"No way!"

"Mother, that's so unfair! I'll die of boredom!"

"I don't care," she replied with a cold and left, giving them a last disappointed look before slamming the door shut, leaving the two of them alone in the room.

"It was bound to happen," Merlin remarked smugly, grinning as the sound of Zenith's footsteps faded. "Guess we'll have to work our way back into Mother's good graces."

Instead of agreeing, Paul smirked at him. "Ha! Looks like Rudy's perfect image finally got a crack. You looked like a scared cat when Zenith glared at you."

Merlin rolled his eyes, striking right back. "Coming from the man who was magically boosted by me during the whole battle, just so I would take the hits? Real noble, Father."

"You little..." Paul shook his head. "Alright, you got me there. But honestly… seeing you up and talking like this—it's a relief. After that fight, I…" He trailed off, his voice softening. "I'm just glad you're alive."

Merlin's smile became gentle. "I suppose that's something we can both agree on, then. Now let's make sure we don't have to face Mother's wrath again. Well, that is at least not until tomorrow."

"Good idea," Paul replied with a weary smile.

"So what happened while I was out?"

His father informed him he'd been asleep for three days. It was an unusual occurrence that left him puzzled, especially since he hadn't dreamed at all during that time. It seems he pushed his limits beyond even his own expectations.

Curious about the state of the village, Merlin asked Paul, who explained that the villagers had cautiously returned to their routines. Farmers, in particular, were back to work, refusing to be intimidated by any remaining threat. Roxy had assured everyone that the mana in the area was finally stabilizing.

Merlin, recalling something, perked up. "By the way, Father, what happened to the creature's body? Was it handed over to the Guild?"

Paul shrugged, looking a bit tense. "We haven't touched it yet. It's still where we left it. Laws checks it out occasionally just in case," Paul silently shuddered at the possibility it would somehow come back to life.

"Though, I imagine the village might want to sell it. You don't look... pleased."

Merlin leaned forward, his voice taking on a more enthusiastic tone. "Oh, really? Because, actually, I wanted to handle the dissection myself."

"…What?" Paul's face twisted in a mix of confusion and mild horror. "Did you just say... dissect? "

"Of course," Merlin replied matter-of-factly. "The monster's remains, the bones, hide—all of it undoubtedly holds unique magical properties. There's no way I'm letting some guild sell it off for a few coins. I have plans, and I won't waste such high-quality materials."

The bones, in particular, were invaluable; when shaped into something more, he could create a new staff for himself. The hide could be used to craft armor with protective enchantments against curses or magical attacks. There was no reason to let these valuable materials slip into the hands of the Guild when they could be put to far greater use in Merlin's hands.

When considering its unique ability, this isn't impossible.

"Don't mages usually examine monster remains for research?"

Paul seemed uncertain, which left Merlin a bit disappointed. He'd hoped for a clear answer, but he decided to let it slide for now.

With a bit of a persuasive manner, Merlin convinced his father to let him take care of it, his tone practically glowing with the cheating charisma he was naturally known for.

But there was another question that lingered. "Actually, what happened to Miss Roxy and Mister Laws?" he asked, glancing at the door.

"Ah, Roxy's with Lilia and Zenith downstairs. The poor girl's probably on edge with Zenith still recovering from the whole ordeal," Paul replied, scratching the back of his head. "As for Laws—"

Before he could finish, the door creaked open, revealing a green-haired man and a young girl. As soon as her eyes landed on Merlin, her expression contorted, her face scrunching in unmistakable anger.

"Y-YOU!" She pointed her finger at Merlin whose face had gone pale, "You are...!"

Merlin put on his most innocent, confused expression, his eyes darting around the room as he attempted to find the way out. "Eh? Are you sure we've met before? I'm certain I would remember someone as lovely as you." he voiced pleasantly, feigning an embarrassing laugh.

The green-haired girl, however, looked more than flustered, her brows furrowing as she took a step closer.

"Dad told me I'd find you here!" Sylphiette announced, her cheeks puffed out in a way that might have seemed cute if not for the intimidating aura released around her.

Merlin glanced over at Laws, who looked thoroughly uncomfortable, shifting his gaze guiltily. I saved your life, and this is how you repay me? Merlin thought in silent accusation. Laws only managed a sheepish look, glancing away.

Merlin's eyes shifted to Paul, who definitely looked too smug for comfort. So, my own father sold me out? Merlin thought, realizing Paul likely spilled all the details as a payback for his previous stunts.

Merlin backed away slightly, his mind scrambling for an exit strategy.

"Oh! Wait—I think I hear my mother calling me!" he suddenly exclaimed, pointing dramatically toward the door. As everyone's heads turned to look, he took the chance, channeling a quick burst of wind magic that momentarily swirled around the room, scattering books and kicking up a harmless cloud of dust.

And just as everyone blinked through the distraction, he sprang into action. In a flash, he bolted toward the only escape available, giving them all a mischievous wink over his shoulder. "I'll be back later—probably! "

With a turn, he launched himself out the window, the faint shimmer of magic cushioning his fall as he disappeared from view. The room fell silent, save for a mix of disbelief and lingering dust in the air.

"FAKE ROYAL WIZAAAAARD!"

ㅤ