Flowery Reincarnation

"A dream-like being who gazes at the stars with fascination."

Merlin, the eternal observer, floated through life like the stars he so often gazed at, a distant, dream-like figure. He saw emotions, he could name them, but never truly understood them. Forever bound by his nature, Merlin remained detached, a being that crafted stories, not experienced them.

Barely falling into the realm of what is considered human. He observes, weaving stories like a puppeteer, crafting the tale of a perfect king. A story where the stars, representing moments of brilliance, are soon consumed by the surrounding darkness.

But something was changing.

In this cozy home, nestled within a family that loved and cared for one another, the Magus of Flowers felt something stir inside him. A desire, faint yet persistent, to understand.

"I want to see this beautiful story play out." Untouched by anyone but him, Merlin's wish had always been for the tales he observed to unfold as they should. For him, it was all part of a grand narrative, a beautiful symphony in which he played conductor. But now, standing amidst the warmth of this place, things felt different.

Was this the core of his being? To watch from afar, to observe without ever interfering, to guide others but remain untouched himself? Was that what he wanted?

Merlin had always appeared as pleasing as possible to those around him—sagely, wisely, and perfect in every way. A man of impossible beauty, crafted to charm. And yet, beneath that facade, he was a twisted thing by human standards.

Sometimes, when called out for his manipulations, Merlin would laugh. But there was no mirth in it. After the laughter faded, his face would fall, unsettlingly blank.

"Hehehe, still, it was fun." The Merlin of before would have found this current situation amusing, another story to enjoy from a distance. But now, there was a weight to his actions, a consequence he hadn't expected.

The love of a mother and father. The desire of parents for their child to grow into something amazing. These were things Merlin had never truly grasped. Until now.

Look at yourself. Are you ugly?

He acted, as he always had, but this time it was different. He felt the results of his actions. He felt the sensation of human touch, and it made the cold distance of his nature harder to maintain.

"Master Rudeus?" a stern yet gentle voice cut through his thoughts.

Merlin blinked, drawn from his reverie, and turned to see Lilia standing in the doorway. Her violet eyes, similar to his own, held a guarded expression. She had the same amethyst gaze as him, yet her emotions were far more complex.

"Miss Lilia? Why are you here?" Merlin asked, tilting his head slightly, curious.

"Young master is disappearing at times, dissolving into the air. Lady Zenith tells me to look for him again."

Merlin chuckled softly. "Is that so? You noticed me, then."

"I searched and searched, and couldn't find you anywhere, so I checked here," she replied, her voice steady but with a faint undercurrent of something more.

Merlin smiled, turning his gaze away for a moment, letting his mind wander.

"Does Lilia not like me?" he asked, his voice soft but curious. "Is it possible?"

Something flickered in Lilia's eyes. Was it a surprise? Maybe even guilt? Her response came quickly, but it felt rehearsed. "No, that's definitely not the case."

Merlin's smile grew, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Haha, I feel a little reassured." His gaze shifted toward the window. "Let's take a look outside, shall we? Just for a little while?"

Lilia hesitated, glancing at the frost-covered landscape outside. "It's no good. The frost has come, and I advise Master Rudeus against that. He will be ill in an hour."

Merlin waved off her concerns with a light-hearted laugh, already moving toward the door. "Just for a little while, please? We'll be back in no time! I'm sure you'll like it!"

Lilia sighed, her shoulders dropping slightly as she opened the door and followed him outside. The cold air hit them immediately, but Merlin hardly noticed. He was too caught up in his own thoughts.

"Would you lend me your hand?" he asked, offering his own.

Lilia hesitated, her gaze lingering on his hand for a moment before she slowly reached out. Her expression remained guarded, but Merlin could feel the uncertainty behind it.

Their fingers brushed, and Merlin's magic flared to life, a gentle warmth spreading through their connected hands. He channeled his mana, creating a spell that warmed their bodies against the cold.

"Warm," Lilia muttered under her breath, her voice soft with disbelief. Her eyes flicked from their joined hands to Merlin's face, her expression unreadable.

Merlin smiled, but inside, he was lost in thought. He could feel the magic pulsing through him, warming the air around them, but something deeper stirred within him.

He looked at Lilia, noting the way her expression softened ever so slightly, the way her gaze lingered on him for just a moment longer than usual. It wasn't as sharp as before.

He used this chance.

"Would Miss Lilia come with me to see the blooming Vatirus tomorrow?" he asked, his voice full of childlike excitement. "Mother says it's very pretty."

Lilia blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question. Her face paled slightly, and she quickly composed herself. "Ahem, unfortunately, I have my duties, so it's impossible. Lady Zenith surely—"

"Mother agreed!" Merlin interrupted, his joy infectious. His hands joined slightly with excitement, and his eyes sparkled with the enthusiasm of a child.

Lilia's eyes widened in disbelief. "I... see." Her voice was quiet, almost resigned.

There was a long pause before she spoke again. "But I must warn you, my legs are no good for long walks. So be prepared to wait just in case."

Her words were blunt, but Merlin simply laughed.

"That's fine with me! Let's go on a grand adventure!" he declared, his voice full of joy and excitement.

Lilia shook her head, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Master Rudeus is much too melodramatic."

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Sometimes, as days went on, the quiet moments in the Greyrat household made Lilia reflect on her past.

She never thought her life would lead her here, serving as a maid on the outskirts of the Asura Kingdom, far from the world of royal courts and noble families. The life she expected was one of service to the kingdom. Perhaps as a royal handmaiden forever, or in the least, as a servant of some powerful noble house.

But fate, it seemed, had other plans for her.

Once, she had been a royal handmaiden, tasked with the protection of Princess Ariel herself. She was proud of her role, holding her duty close to her heart, even when it demanded her life. Lilia could still vividly recall that fateful day—the assassination attempt that changed everything.

The memory of the assassin's blade sinking into her leg was as sharp as the weapon itself. She could still feel the nauseating burn as poison seeped into her bloodstream, leaving her weak and on the verge of death.

She had thrown herself between the princess and danger without a second thought, trusting that the palace's magic would heal any injury she sustained. Yet, when she awoke in one of the medical rooms for knights, she was met with the cold truth: the wound on her leg was wrapped tightly, but it had festered.

The poison that had been meant for a royal was potent, crafted to ensure death, not recovery.

Her heart panicked at the sight of the darkened skin, the smell of rot just barely masked by the bandages. Alarm swelled in her chest. The palace had the power to heal any wound, even one like this. So why had her leg not been restored? Why was she left like this?

She soon remembered that her life—unlike that of the princess—wasn't a priority. She was just a servant, after all. The crown had no reason to waste resources on someone so insignificant in their eyes.

It wasn't long before the truth was revealed: the poison had been a targeted strike against the royal family, part of some political conspiracy. While the kingdom would never forgive an attack on the princess, the fate of a mere handmaiden was inconsequential. Lilia had done her duty. She had protected Princess Ariel but at a cost.

Once she was well enough to leave, she was dismissed from the palace's service without a second thought. The realization of her new life, a life with a limp, a life where she could no longer move as freely as before. These cruel circumstances settled heavily on her shoulders.

Searching for work was grueling, and her options weren't as great as expected.

It was then, just as she began to lose hope, that she found an unexpected opportunity. A job posting for a maid in Buena Village, a secluded place far from the politics of the capital. The employer's name caught her attention immediately.

Paul Greyrat.

The name stirred memories. Paul had been someone she once knew when she was still a young lady. A lazy, brash young man with talent but little responsibility. She hadn't thought of him in years, but now, as fate would have it, their paths had crossed again.

A week later, Lilia stood at the door of the Greyrat household, preparing herself for this new chapter of her life.

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It transpired that the baby was due to be born shortly after Lilia's arrival. Zenith, with whom Lilia had the chance to become deeply acquainted, now rested with her round belly, and Lilia had taken it upon herself to care for the lady of the house.

Zenith was the one with whom Paul Greyrat had eventually settled down. This was a great surprise to anyone who remembered his younger days. Back then, he had undeniably been a womanizer, the kind of man who flirted with anything in a skirt.

Clearly, the right person really could change a man. Lilia found herself musing on this as she recalled the past. Zenith had transformed Paul for the better with her warm, almost radiant personality. The woman was kind, sometimes too kind, Lilia thought.

She often wondered how Zenith had managed to stay so cheerful when Paul still did things that could only be described as idiotic. Like that time when he was caught flirting with a villager's wife. Lilia still shuddered at the thought.

Perhaps it wasn't entirely accurate to say Paul had changed. Lilia smirked inwardly. The man still had his "asshole" moments.

But despite her occasional exasperation with Paul, the air in the Greyrat household was vastly different from what Lilia had grown used to at the royal palace. It was warmer and more welcoming.

The stone walls of the palace, always so cold and imposing, felt far away. The whispered gossip of servants, the constant plotting for higher standing. Those things had no place here. At first, Lilia had struggled to adjust. She wasn't sure how to act in a place so... peaceful. But eventually, she had let herself relax. Professionalism was key, true but here, it didn't need to come with the same harshness.

Zenith had made it easy. The blonde-haired woman had welcomed her with open arms. Lilia could still recall the contented look on Zenith's face the first time she stood in front of the door, a reassuring smile that made her feel less like a stranger and more like an old friend.

Perhaps Zenith had been craving company from someone more familiar with life beyond this isolated village. After all, village women weren't always the easiest to deal with. Lilia understood that at least.

But for Lilia, there was no hesitation in accepting that sense of closeness. It felt natural, even if the situation was far from what she had ever envisioned for herself.

As Zenith shared stories of her past as an adventurer, Lilia found herself drawn into tales of wild journeys, dangerous dungeons, and close-knit camaraderie. As a former healer for a party of adventurers, Zenith had experienced her fair share of excitement, and it gave Lilia some insight into how Paul had ended up at her side.

It was strange to imagine Paul, the lazy, carefree boy she had known, as a member of a well-coordinated adventuring team. But then again, life has a way of changing people. Even Lilia had to admit she wasn't the same person she once was.

Occasionally, she wondered how long she would remain with the Greyrats. The thought of staying in this quiet house until her final days didn't unsettle her as much as it might have before. It was a strange comfort, really, to think that this small, out-of-the-way village might be the place she had been searching for all along.

A place where the monotony of daily chores didn't feel like a burden, but rather a peaceful routine. In the end, wasn't that what everyone longed for? A quiet life?

Sometimes, Lilia felt older than she was. There were moments when her body ached in ways that reminded her of her injury, a silent reminder of the life she had left behind. But despite this, she couldn't help but feel a quiet contentment.

A dry chuckle escaped her lips. It had been far too long since she had laughed, truly laughed.

To put it simply, Lilia was happy. The salary was more than fair, the accommodations were more than adequate, and Paul and Zenith treated her with a respect she had rarely encountered in her former life. It was as though she had stumbled into the perfect job without even realizing it.

The only thing left now was for the child to be born.

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Lilia gave a small smile, feeling the stress slowly melt away from her body. She let out a breath of relief as the anxiety dissipated, replaced by a refreshing calmness that enveloped her like a warm embrace.

The maid had played a vital role in ensuring that the baby was successfully delivered, and everything unfolded without complications. All those medical classes and preparations finally proved to be worth it. Zenith had given birth to a healthy baby, whose gurgled cry broke the silence as he opened his eyes to the world for the first time.

Time seemed to pause for Lilia.

Everything around her stood still. The sounds faded into static, and the vibrant colors of the world dulled, leaving only what felt unnaturally vivid.

This child had different eyes than his parents. While variations in eye color could often be attributed to distant ancestral bloodlines, Lilia's heart raced at the sight of the nearly glowing amethyst hue. It was far too intense, almost unsettling.

Intelligence.

A wave of worry and fear twisted in her stomach.

This wasn't just an ordinary child's gaze; there was an unsettling depth to those eyes that suggested an awareness beyond his tender age.

Lilia couldn't shake the feeling that she was witnessing something extraordinary. From her own childhood, she recalled moments when she could perceive things others could not. The feelings and thoughts that lingered just out of reach.

The first time she had seen magic, she had been terrified of its raw nature, the sparks of energy transforming reality before her eyes. This child's knowing gaze ignited a familiar fear, a silent warning ringing in her mind.

As the child's gaze swept across the room, fluttering weakly before gaining strength, it eventually landed on Lilia. A gut-wrenching shock coursed through her. The curiosity in those eyes should have mirrored the wonder of a child seeing the world for the first time, yet it felt wrong—disturbingly incorrect.

But no one else seemed to notice. Not Zenith nor Paul. Lilia watched as the baby leaned toward Zenith, clutching at his newly made mother, basking in her warmth. For the first time since leaving her womb, the child appeared to act like a typical baby, innocent and fragile.

Yet, deep down, Lilia hoped she was wrong.

She hoped this would be the last of such occurrences.

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Over the years of service in the Greyrat household, Lilia had become intimately familiar with the tiny details of Zenith's child.

His name was Rudeus Greyrat, and as she settled into her role in the family, it felt only natural for her to refer to him as Master Rudeus. She could hardly imagine a future outside this household, especially given the warmth and security it provided.

Rudeus was destined to be the future master of the house, should Paul fall in battle against the mana monsters. Though the likelihood of that happening seemed slim, considering the low-ranking creatures that roamed the village, Lilia felt a strange sense of responsibility for the boy.

Yet, something was disconcerting about him. Rudeus seemed too perfect, almost unreal. He learned to crawl and, shortly after, to walk in mere months. Zenith barely started teaching him to speak when he pronounced his first words with astonishing clarity.

Around Lilia, he never cried, never complained, and when he hurt himself, he calmly announced it, as if sharing an observation rather than expressing pain.

This child appeared devoid of faults.

The fact that Zenith and Paul failed to notice anything unusual about their son made Lilia's unease grow. On the contrary, they praised him incessantly, their blind adoration only amplifying her concerns.

One day, while heading to do laundry, Lilia spotted Rudeus perched on the windowsill, staring out into the distance with a glazed expression.

"Master Rudeus, is everything well?" she asked, but it took several attempts to rouse him from his stupor. His eyes blinked slowly as if emerging from a dream, and then he looked at her with an unsettlingly cheerful smile, as though he hadn't quite registered her presence.

Lilia's heart raced. There was no doubt—this child was different.

Sometimes, he would simply sit in silence, gazing at nothing with that same vacant look before returning to normal as if nothing had happened. These moments went unnoticed when his parents were home, hidden behind a facade of typical childhood innocence.

...

A few moons later, Lilia found Master Rudeus attempting to climb the stairs as she returned from the yard. She thought nothing of it at first, assuming he wanted to explore the upper floor.

When he asked to unlock the door to Zenith's room, where she kept mementos from her past, Lilia didn't think it was unusual; it felt like the natural curiosity of a child.

She watched Rudeus dart toward a peculiar box in the corner, retrieving a book that resembled a children's story. She sighed. As exhaustion weighed heavily on her, she took the opportunity to tidy up the room, grateful for a moment of distraction.

But then came the thud. It was a sound that sent a chill down her spine. Instinctively, she turned toward the noise.

"Master Rudeus!" she called out, panic rising as she saw the boy sitting on the floor, mumbling incoherently.

Beside him lay a book, its cover adorned with intricate designs.

Fear gripped her heart.

A Textbook of Magic...? Why would a child who could barely read seek out something like this instead of a colorful picture book?

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Her body momentarily froze as she rushed to retrieve the book from him, an urgent need to protect the peace driving her forward.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

"Fairytale," she said, her voice shaking slightly as she attempted to mask her rising panic. She caught a glimpse of disappointment in Rudeus's eyes, quickly replaced by a veil of confusion. Nonono.

"A book about Perugius?" he asked, his tone innocent yet tinged with something unsettling.

Lilia swallowed hard. "That's correct. Let's read this instead."

She began to recount the tale she had heard countless times in her own childhood, watching as Rudeus's eyes grew heavier with each word she spoke.

End it. End this madness.

A dark whisper echoed in Lilia's mind, tempting her with the allure of finality. But deep down, she knew she couldn't do it. No matter how much conviction she gathered, the act felt impossible.

Perhaps this dark thought was fueled by her own insomnia, the years of paranoia creeping into her mind, making her feel as though something terrible may happen.

Sleep.

As her eyes grew heavy, she closed them for just a moment. That brief lapse pulled her away from reality, a small escape from the mounting tension around her.

Please.

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Lilia opened her eyes to a star-covered sky. She struggled to collect her thoughts in this bewildering position, her gaze instinctively drawn upward.

Countless stars shimmered against the ocean of void, each glittering like a lantern brimming with untold stories. Their light reflected in her round glasses, creating an impression that felt both distant and near.

She couldn't breathe. She couldn't feel. She couldn't hear. Her body felt as if it were bound, unable to turn or move.

The scene before her, however, was uneven and incomplete. It was accurate to say that her presence changed nothing; she felt like an observer, crafting a magical narrative in her mind. The red-haired maid could only gaze at this otherworldly display, existing without purpose.

In the corner of her vision, a blurry silhouette caught her attention. There sat a figure not far from her, seemingly engrossed in the stars above, untouched by the weight of the moment.

The white hues adorning his figure radiated an aura she could only describe as magical, an ethereal presence that both intrigued and unnerved her.

Who... are you? she thought, feeling a mixture of curiosity and fear.

Suddenly, the man turned his head in her direction, a smile gracing his lips that held no warmth—just a vacant expression devoid of meaning. Lilia stiffened, her heart racing as her unmoving body tensed under the weight of his gaze. It felt as if her very soul were being scrutinized, the soft glow emanating from beneath his hood intensifying the sensation of exposure. A familiar color flickered in that shadow.

With a gentle yet haunting gesture, he brought a finger to his lips and whispered a single word that echoed through the void.

"Sleep."

Dream.

Darkness enveloped her.

Lilia didn't awaken until many hours later, the strange encounter fading from her memory, lost like a whisper in the wind.

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