The morning after I reincarnated, I managed to get a good first look at one of my parents. His presence was massive, with dark brown fur and sharp, thoughtful amber eyes. His broad shoulders nearly brushed the wooden door frame as he walked in. His white muzzle, a possible sign of graceful aging, tapered to black-tipped ears that twitched at every sound. Not a dog, but a wolf.

  It’s tough to judge the true size of things as a toddler, especially when the first person I meet here isn’t even human. However, if doors are the same size as in my old world, and I’m related to this guy, I might end up growing pretty tall myself.

  I haven’t met my mother yet. Maybe she’s out working and got caught in the storm, or maybe she’s gone, lost to childbirth like so many women in places without modern medicine. Sometimes, my wolf-father’s eyes wander to the empty chair in the corner and linger there, making me think she isn’t coming back after all.

  Not that I had anything to complain about. He took good care of me. I just wish he talked more, as I haven’t learned any new words yet. When he carried me around the house, I noticed that his hands, despite coming with five padded claws, felt almost human-like. His palms and the inner sides of his forearms felt like skin to the touch, much smoother than the rest of his body, which was covered in thick layers of fur. This meant that when I grew up, I could probably use all the same tools humans can, if this world even had humans.

  I haven’t seen the outside yet, thanks to the constant rain. It poured day and night, turning the ground to mud. My sense of smell is much more acute now, so I can tell what it’s like there without even leaving the house. I hope this weather is just seasonal and not a permanent state of this world.

  At least the house was sturdy, built from hand-cut square logs that fit together so well any carpenter would be impressed. I tried woodworking in my past life, so I could tell. The house was well-insulated and stayed warm. There was one window in my room, closed with wooden shutters for now. Rustic furniture made from split logs filled the corners, covered in blankets stitched with geometric patterns in deep reds, golds, and blues. Carved ram’s horns hung on the walls, polished to a shine.

  Since I couldn’t yet explore or decipher the local language, I devoted myself to gaining control of this new body. I started with my stubby, russet-furred fingers, each sporting a dark pad and black claw, endeavoring to make them move individually. Then I worked on my elbows, shoulders, hips, and knees, stretching my limbs even though they felt both too light and too heavy. Maybe babies shouldn’t stretch like this, but it didn’t hurt, so I figured it was fine. If Olympic athletes start training at four, I determined I might as well start early too, and I’ll slowly increase the intensity of my exercises as I grow.

  By the second day, I could roll my chubby body across the woven reed mat underneath me with ease. That’s when I noticed my tail, a soft, fluffy thing about as long as my whole arm, tied close to my haunches with a thin leather belt. Maybe this was a wolfkin custom to protect their young. Perhaps an unrestrained tail was prone to injury in these early, clumsy days of development… or more likely it was fixed in this position so the baby’s wagging appendage doesn’t spread fecal matter everywhere.

  Although a tempting topic to ruminate over, I decided to drop it and instead spent that day thinking about my priorities and goals. There’s so much I want to do, but one life is certainly not enough, so I need to focus on something specific. With that said, it is also important to recognize early that some paths are not even realistic options for me to begin with. If most countries here are monarchies, as is typical for a medieval-level civilization, then politics probably aren’t meant for a commoner-born wolf-child like me.

  In my past life, I did work in the civil service for a time. I was inspired by my grandfather. Even though he was a doctor, he was always interested in politics. He used to joke that if he did a terrible job, in his long career, he could’ve killed maybe a few hundred people, at worst, a thousand people. A terrible politician, on the other hand, could easily kill millions with their bad policy decisions. To me, it seemed like something challenging and worthwhile to do, at least in the beginning, before I inevitably lost interest like I always did.

  Politics will involve me whether I participate or not, so I need to learn more about this world’s society. In any case, I don’t want this life to revolve around gaining power or wealth. Such things should be treated as tools, not the end goal. If I were to set my sights on becoming a successful merchant or even a mayor of some city, I could use my Earth knowledge to amass a dragon’s hoard of gold and jewels. Do I want that? After a lifetime in the ultra-capitalist society, not really. So, what should my goal be? To do good?

  That does sound appealing. Maybe I have a hero complex that couldn’t quite span its wings before. However, it would be arrogant to assume people in this world necessarily need saving. Medieval societies in my old world were full of war, poverty, and disease, but this world has magic, so perhaps people here live more comfortably and safely without relying on modern technology.

  When my wolf-father carried me through the house, I noticed plenty of familiar conveniences. There was a functioning bathroom with a small tub and a real flushing toilet, something Japan, for example, didn’t have until the mid-20th century. The kitchen had running water, a freezer, and a decent stove. No microwave, but I never used one in my past life. I was one of those freaks who unapologetically believed microwaves caused cancer. No evidence required.

  All of these seemingly modern amenities operated just fine thanks to embedded magic stones and engraved runes I couldn’t even begin to understand just yet. The food I’ve had so far has also been surprisingly good, mainly consisting of porridge cooked in meat broth with herbs and salt, a lot like the Arabic haresa dish, which I quite liked in my old life. As far as baby food goes, it is both delicious and nutrient-rich.

  Therefore, before I really commit to anything, I ought to learn about this world’s history, customs, and magic. It might be wise to focus on scholarly pursuits first. Maybe there are educational institutions I can access. The University of Oxford was established in the 11th century after all, and it wasn’t even that ancient compared to schools that existed in Imperial China or Ancient Egypt thousands of years ago. There is no reason to think this world doesn’t have a formal place of learning that, hopefully, isn’t just for nobles. I don’t mind joining the clergy either, if that’s required. Many first universities were connected to organized religion after all.

  Funny, I once considered becoming a priest, but I gave up on the idea because it felt hypocritical for an atheist to preach about the divine. Now things are different, though. After experiencing life after death, I’m definitely not an atheist anymore. I’ve seen the light! With my knowledge of psychology and ethics, I think I could make a first-rate clergyman. If I learn healing magic, it could also help me to pay the bills for food and a roof over my head while I travel.

  Ah, but I wouldn’t be surprised if traveling in this world is dangerous, so I need to learn how to fight and protect myself. I practiced martial arts in my past life, but I was mostly a pacifist, so it was just a hobby. Even so, I know pacifism doesn’t always work. When I volunteered for a humanitarian mission in a real war zone, I learned that some people only respond to force. That will probably be even more true in a world without a central government or real police.

  In spite of that, I don’t want to become a soldier myself. A person who kills without thinking, following orders, or a knight who kills in the chase for fame. Hard pass. I want to be someone who can apply force when it’s necessary, but also has the skills and wisdom to help people from all walks of life. That can be my starting point, and I’ll build more on top as I go. So, if this were a role-playing game and I wanted a class that mixes general knowledge, close combat, and some healing magic, what would that be?

  Paladins, clerics, shamans, druids, monks…

  On the third day, I continued pondering those things till about midday. Then the serenity of our humble abode was gone as a surprising guest had arrived.

  The door burst open with such force that the iron hinges shrieked in protest, sending a spray of rainwater across the threshold. Inside stepped a familiar figure. As we exchanged looks, she offered a curt nod. She then peeled off her sodden cloak, the deep burgundy now blackened with moisture, and flung it directly at my face. I sighed but didn’t protest, padding across the timeworn floorboards to hang the dripping garment near the crackling fireplace. Steam began to rise from it immediately. Then I retrieved two linen towels from the cedar chest: one for myself and another for my insufferable guest.

  Estrah, meanwhile, lunged in another room toward the kid, her shining silver bracelets jingling as she cooed, “There’s my little fuzzy one! Oh, baby Zar, how I missed you!” The sound of her voice pitched higher with every word until it reached a squeal. She squeezed his cheek, scooped him up, and set him down on the carpet in front of the fireplace so quickly I worried he’d get dizzy. “Say hi to Auntie Estrah! Say hi!” She got down on all fours. “How about ‘woof woof’?”

  “He is not a dog!” I barked, realizing the irony of my statement a second later.

  “Any baby canine, whether it’s a dog, a wolf, or even a hyena, is a puppy! And puppies say ‘WOOF WOOF’! Isn’t that right, baby Zar?” The kid, as if he understood, gave her the coldest look I’d ever seen him make. Her smile faded. Tears started to form in her sparkling green eyes, and her bottom lip shivered as she put a hand to her chest. “Two weeks and he’s looking at me like I’m a tax collector.” She sniffed, stood up straighter, and declared, “I’m moving in!”

  I passed her the towel and crossed my arms, claws pressing into my biceps. “Absolutely not. First, there’s no space. This cottage barely fits me and the pup. Second, you have your research at the Academy!”

  “Research, shmesearch.” Estrah waved her hand dismissively, magi-rings glinting in the warm firelight. “I have another 300 years in me, at minimum. I can catalog mushrooms later! Right now, I need to concentrate on my new role as a godmother! If I leave it to you, he’ll develop a speech impediment! You probably didn’t speak to him at all for the whole two weeks I was gone, did you? Just stared at him, grunting like the cave-wolf that you are!” She declared, wiping her copper hair, which had lost all its natural curls from the rain.

  The worst part was that I couldn’t argue with her. I am a quiet one, and the kid probably needs constant verbal communication to keep developing. She was perfect for the job. “Technically, they never made you his godmother…” The sound of my voice trailed off into a growl. “Uuurgh, but I can’t deny they would have if they had the time. Fine. Once it dries outside, I’ll start chopping some wood to extend the house and add another room for you. You will have to help me dry it with magic, though, otherwise it will take months to build anything decent in this weather.”

  “I can handle that. During the Ashen War, I dried enough timber to build three fortresses along the coast,” she tapped her magi-rings together. It instantly drew Zar’s attention, who was now focused entirely on her hands. “Wood won‘t dare to crack or warp under my watch.”

  I pointed at the window, where rain pelted the glass, and beyond it, my half-drowned garden plot lay visible. Carrot and potato foliage barely peeked above the mud. “Garden duty too. Thankfully, I used some infused fertilizer, so this harvest will not be ruined by the rain, but otherwise I’d be screwed. The herbs and vegetables I grow are essential for living in this forest. Foraging gets a little too competitive these days. A lot of new clans moved into the Valley.”

  “They are probably not local, displaced people from the continent, I imagine.”

  “You imagine correctly, they are decent folk, but have no farming skills whatsoever. Steppe people, hunters and gatherers, animal handlers and whatnot.” I glanced at Zar, then back to Estrah. “Now that you’re here to watch him… perhaps I should visit their camps and teach them gardening essentials. If they don’t figure out their food situation before winter comes, they might grow desperate enough to resort to banditry, and nobody wants that.”

  Estrah’s mouth curved into a smirk as she produced one of those fancy flavored pacifiers and unceremoniously shoved it into Zar’s mouth. Surprised at first, he quickly grasped the delicious flavor and chewed at the thing. “My, my. The hermit who growls at travelers suddenly cares about refugee welfare.” She leaned forward, her speech softening. “Almost reminds me of someone standing before a war table, moving little figurines around a map.”

  I bared my teeth, just enough for the dancing firelight to catch on the points. “Don’t even start again. You know why I am here. Blood oaths are not something you can simply wave off. Without following them through, we are more animals than people.”

  “Speaking of that…” Estrah’s eyes shifted to the ceiling, counting invisible tallies in the air. “I saved Zar’s parents before they saved you, so by the transitive property of life-debts…” her lips curled into that familiar smile that had charmed kings and commoners alike for centuries. “Do you owe me a blood oath?”

  “No. It doesn’t work that way. Blood oaths are personal. They also have to be accepted by both parties first. Finally, you have to spill your own blood when you save another, and from what I recall, you didn’t really put yourself in any danger when you saved them, right? You just ordered some people around, and it happened. Shouldn’t you know this? You have been around long enough…”

  Estrah leaned forward, her copper-red hair falling over one shoulder as she placed her slender fingers on my forearm. “Florent, my friend… wait, are we friends? My dearest acquaintance! Elves might be a long-lived species, but we are not omniscient. Some experiences eluded even me, especially when it comes to beastkin.” Her voice dropped to a silken whisper as she traced one of her magi-rings with her thumb. “I wouldn’t mind you teaching me a few things, though.” She winked, the gesture somehow both playful and ancient, like everything else about her.

  I sighed, running a claw-tipped finger along the grain of the wooden table. “Point taken, well, anyway, it doesn’t work that way. However, I do appreciate the help. It might not be an act worthy of a blood oath, but I certainly consider what you are doing a big favor…” I wavered, the word feeling strange on my tongue, but not entirely wrong “…friend.”

  As we kept chatting into the evening, Zar’s tiny eyelids became heavy until they finally closed, his chest rising and falling with the steady rhythm of sleep. I scooped him up, feeling his warmth against my rough palms, and padded across the room to tuck him in his bed. Standing in the doorway, watching his peaceful form, I took delight in this spell of tranquility. Tonight I could breathe easy, but tomorrow’s first light would bring axe-work, timber-hauling, and the beginning of a new room. Quite a lot of work to look forward to.

  1.1 - I finished a thorough line editing of this entire chapter. Corrected some spelling errors, added and removed a few sentences here and there. It now clicks with the previous chapter. Web publishing demands shorter chapters, but paperback not so much (and it is my intention to publish this book in the future). In my mind, chapters 1 and 2 serve as the story's prologue. The next chapter, however, is what I actually perceive as the first proper chapter of the series, if that makes any sense.

  1.1.1 - Added a few more descriptors of how Florent and Estrah look. Fixed their dialogue a bit as per my reader's suggestions.