Chapter 1: Prologue

-ORIGINAL MAGIC WORLD-

 

I was alone from the beginning—an orphan with a polar-loving family. Weird, right, but I was happy. The chairperson was a kind older man who took care of us; he had neither ambition nor the drive you find in people of power. He was humble with a loving wife and relatives. He was just someone who wanted to help people, and we were grateful for that.

We had nothing fancy, but we made do with donations and kingdom relief funds. When I was a few years old, local temples needed people to help with primary duties. I was lucky enough to get selected, the priest was famous for his "Oracle" skill, and the Gods of this world often give their knowledge via them. He was employed with the favored God, said to have formed this world.

People told me that this is the world of mysticism.

I wish I could "see" all this, but I was born blind, which never hindered my thinking, I can get a good grasp of situations, and people often praise me for my mentality and memory. I was a so-called "Genius," but I highly doubt it, though I can feel things. People often say "seeing is acknowledging," and I was highly lacking in that department. The medical treatment does exist in this world, but my case was unique; healing magic didn't affect my ailment. Even high-level priests were unable to cure it. Orphanage wasted quite a lot of money on this, which left me distressed after I began to develop a sense of money. I firmly rejected the director's recommendations after that. I was able to live out my life and got quite habituated to my blindness. However, there was a sense of defeat deep in my heart.

I had a lot of friends who were just like me; I would often follow them around from childhood; it was bizarre that people would go out of their way to take care of me. I had many senior brothers who would dote on me for no reason. Sometimes I feel they did that out of pity which I understood as I grew up. Honestly, I was grateful for everything that they did for me. I was often spoiled by elder sisters who came to visit the orphanage. They would narrate to me stories that led to my addiction to books. I would often pester elders to read me different stories, no matter the genre. It was an obsession that would scare them off, but my insistence would often break that barrier. From time to time Director would bring some new unsuspecting "victims" in the name of new volunteers and later boast about their despair at dinner, which did lighten the atmosphere.

This change helped me to see through the world of words. I could only "speculate" what most of the adjectives were with no real sense of familiarity. It's like when people read me stories; I would always feel the change in their sounds. The monotone voice would often lower my immersion, and the intensity in their voice would paint a much clear image in my head. "Beautiful" word for me was the most difficult to interpret; it made no sense to me."Beautiful" word for me was most difficult to interpret; it made no sense to me. So I had to develop it independently, which often felt frustrated as there was nothing to compare it to. Some tried to explain it to me when I mentioned it during reading sessions, but it still left me baffled by their responses. Everyone had different answers, which just increased my confusion, so I just left it alone. Although things were tricky, they never hindered my fixation.

Soon the time came for my first odd job at the Temple. I turned ten this month, and when the Head Priest came to the orphanage for visits during these few months, I would nag him for odd jobs. The job was simple: narrating a few religious texts to children; although I was one too, I knew all the prerequisites. I wanted to repay the people who regularly look after me. I was free all day, and this felt like the best job for me to take some burden off of them. So I went to Temple with my elder brother.

This was the first time I came to Temple. It was majestic and grand as it housed a few gods, including the God of Creation. Head Priest invited me in. When I stepped into the corridors, I felt something like something was watching me intently. It was like a sixth sense type of thing that you know in your gut. It was just a few seconds, then it disappeared, whatever it was. I was flustered for a few seconds but dismissed it. The head priest looked at me, worried, and asked if I was alright. I said I was fine, and we moved to the main praying area, "Sanctum Sanctorum," where I was told most of the gods were placed. Different voices were singing some religious chant. Chanting is a commonly used spiritual practice here. Like prayer, chanting may be a component of either personal or group practice. The Temple considers chanting a route to spiritual development.

The Priest guided me through an entrance and made me halt just a few steps after we went inside, I was perplexed, but the Priest clarified that I should pay my regard as it was my first time here. So he led me to the main Temple where Creation God resided. I agreed even though I was not a firm religious person. I often joined my elders in the orphanage, but It was primarily superficial. The Priest took my brother and went to check the children's situation and gave me a few minutes solitary. I thought it was an incredible opportunity to show some mercy. I focused on and thanked my life, current situation, and all the people who care for me; I was grateful from the depths of my soul. I implored for a few minutes, and just when I was removing my awareness, I heard a voice----

"CHILD--"