hey,author here , just wanna say make sure to give power stone and like the chapter &
READ MY OTHER NOVEL " THE GODS PUPIL : FORESIGHT OF ALL-FATHER"
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The next few months weren't filled with epic battles or ancient spells. Instead, they were filled with the smell of old parchment, the scratch of quills, and the persistent frustration of a grown man trapped in a body that couldn't quite grip a pen correctly.
It turned out that while the Essence of Blank gave Merlin infinite magical potential, it did absolutely nothing for his fine motor skills.
"No, no, Merlin. You're holding it like a club again," Jason laughed, leaning over the kitchen table. He adjusted Merlin's tiny fingers around the feather quill. "It's a tool of peace, not a sword. Lightly, now."
Merlin gritted his teeth, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth in deep concentration. "I can calculate the Ethernano density of a fireball using a mental supercomputer, he thought bitterly, but I can't draw a straight 'A' without it looking like a squashed spider".
"Great Sage, can you just... auto-pilot my hand?"
[Answer: Negative. Manual dexterity is a physical attribute. I can provide the perfect template for the letter, but your toddler muscles must execute themovement.]
"Useless,I know you could to it ,you just don't wanna do it" Merlin grumbled internally.
Martha sat across from them, knitting a sweater that was definitely three sizes too big for him. "Give him a break, Jason. He's only four. Most kids his age are still eating the ink, not trying to write poetry."
"I'm not eating ink," Merlin mumbled, finally managing to loop a perfect 'O'.
"See! Look at that!" Martha cheered, dropping her knitting to clap her hands. "He's a genius! I told you, Jason, he's got the mind of a scholar."
Jason grinned, ruffling Merlin's snowy white hair. "He's got something, that's for sure. Alright, 'Genius,' let's see if you can read the next line in the primer."
He pushed a weathered book toward Merlin. It was an old history text, the kind used to teach children the basics of the world. Merlin squinted at the symbols. Thanks to his wishes, the language felt familiar, like a half-remembered song, but seeing it on paper was different.
"The... Drag-ons... ruled the sky," Merlin read slowly, his voice high and chirpy.
"Before the... Kings of Men... built the first towers."
He stopped, his heart giving a small thud. Reading about the Dragon Era in a textbook while actually living in it was a surreal experience. To these people, this was just the scary reality of the world. To him, it was a history lesson he was currently standing in.
"Perfect," Jason said, his face softening. "You're a fast learner, kid. A few more months of this and you'll be reading my old mission journals."
"And then," Martha added, pointing a knitting needle at him with a wink, "we start on the math. I'm not having a son who gets cheated by the merchants at the market."
The "Slice of Life" rhythm became Merlin's new reality. Mornings were for chores, well, "chores" for a four-year-old, which mostly involved Merlin carrying one log at a time to the fireplace while feeling very proud of himself. Afternoons were for the dreaded writing lessons, and evenings were spent by the fire.
One night, as the rain drummed against the stone roof, Merlin sat on the floor, surrounded by piles of books Martha had scavenged from the attic. He was "studying," which really meant he was using Great Sage to scan every page and build a digital map of the current world's geography.
Suddenly, Jason plopped down on the rug next to him, smelling of tobacco and woodsmoke. "You really like those books, don't you, Merlin?"
Merlin looked up, his silver hair messy. "I want to know how the world works. Why things are the way they are." "i mean who wouldn't know to know i'm finley in the world of magic , heck ya i'm gonna be a total badass"
jason looked at the boy really looked at him. There was a spark in Merlin's eyes that didn't belong to a toddler. It was a deep, ancient curiosity. "You've got a long road ahead of you, little magus. The world is a big, messy place right now. But as long as you can read and write, you've got power. Information is the one thing even dragons can't burn."
Merlin nodded, feeling a lump in his throat. He had come here expecting to be a god among men, but sitting here in the warm light of a humble home, learning his ABCs from an old man who treated him like a treasure, he realized he didn't want to rush it.
The 400 years felt a little less daunting now.
"Hey, Jason?" Merlin asked, looking at a particularly difficult word in the book.
"Yeah, kid?"
"What does 'Cat-a-clysm' mean?"
Jason laughed, a low, rumbling sound. "It means a very big mess. Which is exactly what your room is going to be if you don't pick up those inkwells."
Merlin rolled his eyes, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips. Life was simple, quiet, and perfect.
Of course, in this world, "perfect" never lasted very long.