[A/N: before you read this chapter, I gotta tell you... TRUST THE PROCESS]
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The declaration rippled through the air like a spell.
A wave of clapping broke out. Voices rose in confused excitement as Ethan and the others lifted their heads, still disoriented. They stood impossibly high—so high it felt as though the world itself lay far below them. The sky was a deep golden colour with drifting clouds at eye level. From the edges of the platform, pillar-arcs rose and curved into the sky disappearing like the ribs of a cathedral built by the gods.
"Heroes! Welcome to Magia!"
An old man approached, leaning lightly on a staff. His long white goatee swayed as he walked, his voice brimming with warmth and pride.
As he drew nearer, expressions shifted.
Eyes widened.
Mouths fell open.
The reason was unmistakable.
His ears were long—elegant, sharply pointed.
An elf.
"I am Lumos," he said, bowing with graceful dignity. "Elder and advisor of the almighty Elven Kingdom, Aeloria. It is my honor to meet you."
Donald staggered forward, eyes shining like a child in a toy shop.
"Old man—are you, like… a real elf?"
Lumos chuckled. "Indeed, young one."
That was all the confirmation Donald needed. He reached out and began poking, prodding, and gently tugging at the elf's ears with reverent fascination. Lumos winced—just barely—but endured it with saintly patience.
Ethan laughed and stepped forward.
Gilbert shot him a puzzled glance. "Wait—Ethan, where are you going?"
"I'm going to touch the old man."
That was when Ethan was hit with the familiar feeling again.
'Wrong.'
He hadn't given it much thought before since he believed it was temporary disorientation after touching the vase, but he was sure of it now. Something was wrong with his body. Ever since he woke up from that void dream, he felt a disconnection, as though he was slightly out of sync with his own body.
Now he couldn't ignore it.
Something was off.
This time, he tested it.
He willed himself to stop.
His foot kept moving.
He tried again—stop—but his body ignored him,
continuing to chuckle with the others, while reaching out to marvel at the elf's ears.
'What…?'
His mind flicked with alarm. Before he could interpret what was happening, his perception of this plane of existence began to blur and change. His surroundings shimmered like heat off desert sand, distorting in waves that twisted his vision.
This time, though, he wasn't dizzy, rather, he felt... nice.
Then everything went black.
Panic sparked in his chest. The darkness felt like a vast, unending void, a place that swallowed everything without a trace. His thoughts raced out of control in a spiral of increasing fear. Would that monstrosity shadow his presence again? Would the yellow light appear again? Or was this vast emptiness all there was, and it was here forever?
He couldn't tell if he was shouting, or even breathing, but just when the fear began to take hold––
His eyes opened.
A sky of impossible blue stretched endlessly above him, so vibrant it felt unreal
A warm breeze kissed his face, carrying the scents of wildflowers and fresh earth, sweet and intoxicating. The gentle rustle of leaves drifted to his ears, a comforting whisper in this strange place.
He tried to lift his arms, but they felt impossibly heavy. He forced himself to look down and froze. The body beneath him was not his.
He wasn't Ethan anymore.
Tiny, delicate hands rested where his own should be. His legs—short and stubby—lay sprawled, kicking with weak, uncoordinated movements. His skin felt soft and new, unused to the touch of the world around it.
He was no longer a teenager.
He was… a baby.
***
Ethan was in fact a baby.
He tried moving 'his' body but it was too uncoordinated. He tried speaking but 'his' lips moved in weird angles. There was nothing else he could do. That was when he realised something.
He was stuck in the middle of a flower bed, in the forest as a baby with nothing but the basket he was in and the white cloth. The worst part, he didn't even have some miraculous amulet half of the MCs abandoned by parents.
Cogs shifted in his brain quickly. Considering that he was a baby. If no one found him in the forest, he would likely starve to death within a few hours. With nothing he could hold onto, other than the white cloth covering him and a dog tag, he cried.
Not out of sadness, but in the hope that he would attract someone with his cry. It was improbable but was also his last-ditch effort. He hoped that someone would come. Luckily for him, Someone did come.