In Birain, there were six families, all descended from the reincarnations of the first King, Ionian Laertes Raviseul.

Those of the first bloodline had the privilege of holding the Raviseul name, as the second king recalled himself as once being Ionian, the first king. While power often shifted between the families, they held the throne more often than not. Historically, they were fair rulers, though their political power declined as the years went on as their numbers dwindled with every generation. Due to their proximity of being closest to the first king, most of the other families resented them, which has caused no small amount of conflicts.

The second bloodline were named the Claridieu. During the era in which they came to be, the third king had to vanquish some great evil that befell Birain, partnering up with a cleric from the temple of Tulilith. The two fell in love and married, resulting in that bloodline having very close ties to the country’s religion. They were in constant conflicts with the first family about the right of rule; it was always a fight of divine right versus birthright. They led the coup that disrupted the political landscape of the country, in recent times.

The third family, the Virelli, a disgraced group of nobles who fell from position due to being the ones accused of trying to rig the king selection process all those years ago. They had recently become merchants, clawing their way out of the gutter and gaining traction as a business-minded family. One did not conduct business in Birain without hearing about the Virelli Company.

The fourth family were called the Raubannes. They were the military power of Birain and very loyal to the Raviseuls, their two families linked through a marriage between them. They earned themselves the title of Shields of the King, because of their loyalty and stalwart nature. Even during the siege that caused the death of the most recent king, they continued to defend their cousins and allies. Their forces had retreated to their keep in the north, biding their time and regrouping.

The Angeteuil came to be during a time of peace, where artistry and industry flourished. The king that reigned during their time was one with strange, but revolutionary ideas. They rarely ever vied for the throne, cherishing more their peace. This also meant that they held no particular side, staunchly staying neutral to avoid conflicts. They were suspiciously absent during the coup.

The Verisey, the last confirmed bloodline born of a reincarnation of Ionian Laertes Raviseul, were also part of the controversy involving the king selection process. While neutral on the surface, they were a family that wavered between whoever was in power, having no loyalties to the other families. Their loyalties laid only in power and they built their own over the years, through political unions with families from other lands. Only the youngest son of the previous generation, held any genuine love for the Raviseul rulers of Birain; he rose alongside the former king, becoming his right hand as prime minister.

At this very moment, there is a search for the missing rightful heir to the throne of Birain.

Of course, the identity of this person was left up to interpretation, due to the strange nature of the king selection process.

It could be the missing heir to the recently deceased king, Ulysses Laertes Raviseul, whose body was not found nor identified after the coup at the capital.

The new heir could also be a member of any of the other bloodlines, who had claims to being related to the first king.

However, occasionally, an heir was chosen by someone blessed by the goddess without them being related to the first king either by blood or spirit. The temples assumed those reborn would bring with them divine messages and revelations, which was the reason why they always sought out individuals who met the rebirth criteria.

The amount of those reborn was actually very small, a paltry percentage of the world. Most souls in this world were brand new, living for the first time. In a single temple, you would find a single soul who had been reborn, working for the clergy; more than five, if it is the larger headquarters. The second king’s wife was one such individual and so it became imperative to secure every goddess blessed child so that they could be educated from an early age, the right disposition expected of them. If not to be the ruler, than someone who stood beside them.

However, they were treated very poorly.

While the illustrious bride of the second king had willingly entered the temple of her own free will, subjected herself to intense training and a modest lifestyle, it was still her choice.

Under the divine edict determined by the greedy wants of a few, families were driven apart. Even destroyed. All for the faint hope that one bloodline could seize power once more. Yet in recent years, not a single reborn soul had been found. As if the goddess herself wished to withhold her love of the people of Birain, which resulted in the crown being passed from father to son for a few peaceful generations in the absence of a divinely chosen leader.

But of course, no one could leave it well enough alone. Unhappiness festered all the more easily.

And so Ulysses lost his home and was now hiding in Ceralde under the guise of a boy named Yule. And it so happened he had someone clearly blessed by Tulilith living under the same roof as him. What a strange turn of events.

Penelope really was too defenseless, he thought. The first night they shared a tent he really couldn’t comment on it, but looking back on it now, she truly did not have a sense of the danger she could have been in. Sense of responsibility came over him as they traveled together and now began living together.

She had more hidden behind the truth she had already shared with all of them. He was sure his aunt felt it, too. There was more to be found out about this girl blessed by the goddess. As if what they had managed to glean wasn’t already shocking enough.

He could never imagine what it was like not to have loving parents. The concept was foreign to him, though he did admit everyone had different experiences. His father, while distant, was always proud of his children (Yule’s heart clenched at remembering he had no siblings left, save for one) and his dear mother could not go a day without telling him she loved him. Ulysses had all the support one could want, from his parents and other adults alike. Of course, the latter may have had to with his position as an heir to the throne, but he had never lacked for much.

From the sounds of it, Penelope did. Depressingly so. He could recall nothing more than wanting to spend afternoons having lessons with his father, despite how busy he was ruling a kingdom. Pouting and sulking until he would eventually get his way. And some days, simply receiving something on a whim, because his mother simply thought of him.

And never mind being pushed into a marriage so young. Not since the fifth king’s reign had marriages between adults and children had been allowed, not even to arrange them between royals. A royal engagement was selected at age fifteen, then courtship happened until their 17th year and, if all went well, it would be officially announced at age 18 to the entire court.

The world was filled with despicable people; only a scant few had noble hearts and they were the ones trodden upon the most. Used and then tossed aside, or done away with if they stood in the way of another’s goals.

Yule’s heart burned with so much vengeance and it took everything in him to keep it from erupting around Penelope. She did not deserve to see it, nor to be victimized again by the problems of someone else.

She was so weirdly happy about things and now he finally understood why.

The private rooms behind the shop were few; Minerva and Cynthia shared one, while he and Penelope were relegated to a guest room. Even the same bed, though he made sure to stay as far from her as possible. It made sleeping uncomfortable as he almost hung off the edge of the bed, but he was not the only one doing so.

It was a step above what had happened though. Better for them to share the one bed in the guest room than to be the only one sleeping on one. Penelope had insisted on sleeping on the floor with a single blanket and a pillow. And when she offered to create a second bed, he had shot that idea down, too, as there would be no room for a second bed.

Yule had shared a bed before, with his siblings. He had two little brothers and one little sister. His sister had been the one who constantly snuck into his bed.

The night he lost everything, she had been snugly nestled by his side. And she had taken the brunt of a plot for assassination when his would-be killer thought the lump underneath the blankets was him, not her.

He could never forgive himself for letting that happen. He had only gone away for a moment; he had heard a noise and got up from bed, after tucking his sister in. And then…

Penelope didn’t need to sleep so far away, neither did he, but this was not his sister, after all. It was not appropriate. But no way was he letting her have the floor. He was not some heartless jerk!

The blanket slipped off of Penelope’s sleeping body and she shivered, however, she did not move to reclaim the blanket. Yule frowned. He picked up the corner of the blanket and dragged it back up to her chin.

Geez. Even in her sleep she’s hopeless.

Going a step further, he coaxed her more towards the middle of the bed, so she wouldn’t topple over. Penelope mumbled sleepily, but otherwise moved under his prodding.Her body was soon curled up away from the edge of the bed. Of course, he would inevitably need to sleep on the side…

A night without being fully comfortable wouldn’t hurt him. The road to Ceralde had been much, much worse.

Yule watched Penelope for a few moments longer before turning around and closing his eyes, doing his best to will himself to sleep. He tossed a few more times before settling down, facing Penelope.

Her face was really peaceful. Was she having good dreams? What kind was she having? Were they filled with the memories of something terrible from her past, or did sweet things enter her mind?

Penelope’s eyes fluttered blearily open for a moment. Surely, she was not truly awake, as a mindless smile spread on her lips and she reached out to hold his hand.

“There…there…sis has got…you.”

Ah.

Even after everything, Penelope still thought about her family. Yule didn’t know whether to pity her or not.

Exhaling softly, he squeezed her hand and closed his eyes again.

“Let someone else look after you for once,” he whispered, before falling asleep.

---

The days followed in the same routine: breakfast with everyone, the morning spent taking care of jobs (Minerva and the kids at the shop and Cynthia out on quests); during evenings there was a two hour long lesson for Penelope and Yule. Originally Minerva had set them to have one hour, but Penelope did not know how to read or write in their language. She was literate, but in a completely different language.

Penelope had to learn their characters for the first couple of lessons, which made her feel a bit foolish. The last time she had learned a different language was in primary school, learning English. As Kasumi she did not have much of a mind for foreign languages and after she entered secondary school, there was no chance of her trying again.

Yule and Penelope took the first hour as a sort of self study, where the boy helped her learn the basics before Minerva took over in the next hour to teach them magic through lectures and note taking, since book learning would be off the table for the moment.

The two children had slowly figured out an analog for the two languages, placing Japanese characters to the ones used in Iraloné.

Penelope learned that Yule’s handwriting was a bit messy compared to hers, when she looked at the characters lined up together in rows. It was quite cute, honestly, like he hadn’t yet come into his own writing style yet.

As far as literacy in the local language went, Penelope can recognize signs properly, though remembering what the characters meant exactly was still an ongoing project. It was a bit embarrassing, because she even had her own book (a gift from Minerva after shyly asking for supplies) for taking notes, as it was similar to when she was a small child. Pages filled with drawings and next to it a word in another language, with words in Japanese underneath. Minerva was impressed by the book and the notes therein.

“My! Just look at that,” the mage stated grandly, “If I hadn’t known this was your workbook, I’d say it was an instructional book for children learning languages. The illustrations are so clear and and the writing so neat. Penelope! You draw so well.”

The compliments rained down on the girl made her wring her hands and laugh nervously. Honestly, this should not be something to be praised for. It was bare minimum to keep things properly organized so she could find it later. And as for drawing, well, she was happy about it, but it was still embarrassing to be praised for it.

“It’s really nothing…” she said, waving away the praise. Minerva would not have it, though.

Minerva tutted her with a finger wave. “Nonsense! When I was your age all I could draw was stick figures. Even now I’m no good, but I suppose my talents lay elsewhere…”

“Like magic?” Penelope asked.

“Oh, yes,” Minerva replied with a nod. “My magic skills are at level six, quite above average. I’m one of the top mages in Birain.”

Penelope blinked as her mind took an extra second to process that bit of information.

Then it clicked.

“Wait a minute, what? I know you’re one of the best in the country, but did you say you’re level six?”

“Yes, quite impressive, right? I don’t mean to toot my own horn, but barring a few masters from other countries, there really isn’t a match for me here in Birain.”

“Th-that’s not what’s the problem here.”

“Hm?”

“Isn’t level six low?”

“Goodness, no.”

Clearly, there was a misunderstanding of something fundamental here, and Minerva was clever enough to eventually pick up on Penelope’s distress and confusion.

“I take it no one in your family allowed you to learn much of how our world works, I take it?”

Her birth family definitely blocked her from learning all kinds of things to better herself, but for once they were not at fault for this. Perhaps, in this world, Penelope could consider her mother to be the goddess of rebirth? Rather than come into this world naturally as a baby, she was dropped off in the body of a ten year old child. And she did inject information of Iraloné into her mind, it was clearly not enough. So, after a moment, the girl nodded.

Tulilith, you gave me too little to work with! Minerva probably thinks I’m an uneducated bumpkin! Penelope’s mental complaints were loud, but there was no divine response.

Minerva moved to explain more about the world of Iraloné to Penelope.

“Well, levels date back to the second king of Britain. Before then we only had a rudimentary way of gauging one’s magical ability. The second king negotiated with the goddesses and the system we have now was created. However, it gauged not only magical abilities but other skills as well. And everything is on a scale of 1 to 10; 1 being the lowest tier and 10 being the highest. Most average folks don't rank higher than level 1 or 2 and more exceptional individuals are from level 4 and higher, though it is rare to see anything higher than 6. There is nothing past level 10.”

“Does that apply for stats, too?”

“Yes, it does. Things like strength and speed are also ranked from 1 to 10 in order to help assess one’s ability in every day situations and jobs. Does that make sense to you, Penelope?”

“A little bit. Thanks for explaining it to me.”

“You're welcome, my dear.”

Of course, Penelope thought with that familiar panic rising up inside, that means I am definitely not normal. If normal, every day people were meant to be ranked at levels 1 or even 2, what did it mean that she had a minimum of rank 5 on everything, save for certain skills and abilities? Penelope did not understand. Goddess blessed or not, this is ridiculous!

Her internal struggle must have been evident on her face, because Minerva decided to shift topics.

“Say, when was the last time you left the shop?” Minerva asked.

“Um, I think a week ago when Cynthia took me out to gather herbs with her?” Penelope replied after counting down the days on her fingers.

Minerva sighed and shook her head. “Goodness, well…I guess it is hard to shake off habits. So how about we go out for dinner?”

Penelope stared. “Oh? Is there some special occasion?”

“No, not really,” Minerva replied.

“Then, why?”

“Because kids should be outside more. I realize you want to help out, but shouldn’t you be playing with kids your age, too? You can’t stay inside all the time.”

“Ah..”

The older woman was right, of course. Without thinking about it, Penelope had returned to old habits.Routines were safe, though. Routines minimalized trouble and she’d hate to find herself in some. However, she had been put into this world in order to enjoy life, not just to live as how she had always done.

Ah, I’m not very good at this yet, Penelope thought to herself.

“Well, I can’t pay for it,” the young girl stated with a wry laugh. She hadn’t been able to find a way to earn anything for herself just yet; another point to look at again soon, in case she overstayed her welcome.

Minerva waved that excuse off, though.

“Who says you have to? I’m treating everyone. You just go ahead and tell Yule and Cynthia we will be eating out tonight,” she said. The mage went silent a moment, trying to recall something. “Oh, right. Cynthia would be out right now. I think she should be doing another herb gathering job for the guild. Could you head to the gathering point and tell her for me so I could use the time to properly close up shop?”

Penelope perked up, eager for something to do. To help with. The girl nodded enthusiastically.

“Do you remember where it is?” Minerva prodded. Penelope nodded again. “All right. Well, you go ahead. Cynthia will know where to go already when you tell her, so just get safely to her, all right? Don’t dawdle. It will be dark soon, so don’t get distracted.”

“Yes, m’am!” Penelope chirped, taking her satchel with her art supplies and workbook before moving to head out.

“Penelope.”

The girl stopped in her tracks, turning her head to look at the mage of the shop with a deer in the headlights look on her face that clearly said ‘oh, no, am I in trouble?’.

“Um, yes?” she squeaked quietly, expecting a scolding.

However, all that came was Minerva wrapping her up in a cloak, pulling the hood up so her face was a bit obscured. It was one that she had worn before when she originally went out with Cynthia; a brown and worn number that was a bit long for Penelope.

“There we go. Stay covered up, stay safe. Now, off you go.”

Oh. She just wanted to be sure Penelope would remain safe; while Ceralde was generally safe, you never knew what kind of stranger would appear in this port town who might try snatching her up. Penelope stood there for an awkward moment before nodding.

“All right. I’ll see you soon. Thank you,” she said shyly, before finally leaving the shop.

 

There was still daylight outside, with only a few clouds drifting lazily in the sky. The salty sea breeze hit Penelope’s nose again and she had to take a moment to indulge in the fresh air of the sea and the warmth of the sun. Right, she thought, she was not confined to one space anymore. She could go to and from places, she could travel, she could go–

Someone bumped into her, apologizing for doing so, though she was also quick to apologize, suddenly scared again. The other person just laughed at her and told her it was no problem and moved along.

Ah, travelling along a road with just one other person was very different from moving around in a bustling town with many other people. A combination of anxious and excited again, Penelope pulled her hood up a little more before making her way towards the gathering point where Cynthia worked.

There are pros and cons to being so small, Penelope mused to herself as she bobbed and weaved through the crowd. She could easily maneuver around objects and people, but on the bad side, sometimes collisions were inevitable because some couldn’t see her due to her short stature. However, not a single person berated her for bumping into them; more often than not, they apologized for knocking her over. Some even taking a moment to brush off her clothes, though she refused the kind gesture after the second time it happened and vowed to be much more careful. She needed more getting used to her body.

Minerva had been right to tell her to go straight to Cynthia, as since it had been a little while since she last walked through the streets of Ceralde, there were a great many distractions calling to her. It was only through being given a task that she had enough willpower not to stick in front of the market stalls to peruse items.

Though she did remain staring at one shop window in particular a little longer than necessary when it caught her eye.

Cynthia had told her what it was the last time they passed by; it was a stationary store. Filled with all kinds of blank books, sheets of paper, pens and other tools for writing.

And drawing, Penelope thought. While Tulilith had been kind enough to send her off to iraloné with some items to draw with, they would run out. She was currently on her second to last stick of charcoal and if she kept up lessons with Minerva and Yule, she would need to replenish her stock.

However, the pricing was a bit disheartening.

Among some of the basic things Minerva taught her was the coinage in Birain. The currency came in three kinds that were struck in bronze, silver and gold called Draks. A bronze represented 1 Drak, a silver coin meant 10 Draks and a gold coin represented 100 Draks. After figuring out what some every day items cost, Penelope was able to make a mental conversion chart in her mind.

The cheapest pens in there were 20 Draks each, which meant they were around 3000 yen per pen, which was expensive! Clearly, these were more catered to the upper class within town, but it didn’t mean she didn’t want them anyways.

Back in her days of being Kausmi, she had always dreamt of having a fountain pen, one of the fanciest pens one could ever own. It was a mark of prestige and it seemed such an idea was also the norm here. Look at how expensive that was; the store didn’t even carry charcoal sticks so there was no way she could afford it once she got paid for work.

A job like being a waitress paid you 40 Draks a day, which can help you afford room and board, but very little else; it was an idea she thought of when deciding to stay at Minerva’s shop. The adults had been entirely against her finding work, though, citing all kinds of reasons.

So she only looked longingly at the pens inside, thinking one day.

Reminding herself that she needed to find Cynthia, Penelope forced herself to leave the storefront to go finish her task. 

As she rushed to head to the gathering point, her workbook fell out of her satchel just as the door of the shop opened up. The owner had seen her staring at his wares and came out to ask her if she needed help, when she had run off, dropping her book. He did call out, but she had put so much distance between herself and the store, that she did not hear him calling for her.

The store owner looked down at the workbook, flipping it open to try and find a name, but soon became engrossed in what he saw inside…