CRASH!
Ah, did I just die?
That damn van! Roxas Boulevard had 60kph speed limit for Pete sake!
I thought you'll see tunnel light when you die? It's pitch black here…
Good thing I didn't bring those cats with me. I hope Shiela would take care of them.
Eman sighed as he drifted in a never-ending dark place he's now into. A van rammed his scooter earlier, sending him flying several meters down the road. The world around him spun violently, with each rotation nauseating and assaulting his senses.
And then, there was nothing—just an endless stretch of darkness.
What a great way to end my day…
Is this what death feels like?
No alarm, no riding my motorcycle early in the morning, no production incident testing—
Just me, floating in the void.
At least it's not "Truck-kun." Wait—did I just get isekai'd by a van instead? Lame.
Then the light he was waiting for came.
Oh there it is! The legendary bright light that swallows the dying—
He closed his eyes, feeling his body slowly settling down. Gradually he started to hear soft clinks of utensils. And then the smell of bread and some strange but flavorful aroma hijacking his fading consciousness. Eman slowly opened his eyes again but was momentarily blinded by a bright, golden light.
His vision began to steadily adjust.
What the heck? Where am I?
Eman then saw something moved in the corner of his eyes. He tried to lean sideways but his body was not cooperative. His forehead curled as he tried to look around once more and saw his tiny shape. He then raised his arms and wiggled his fingers.
"Was I reincarnated?!" he said.
But he didn't realize that only gibberish sound escaped his mouth. He heard soft thuds on the wooden floor, inching to his side.
"No, I think I'm in heaven."
A lone figure started to come forward toward him in a stride as smooth as the river flow. She swept her long snow-like hair aside leaning over as she gently grabbed him. She has pointy ears and lively crimson eyes. Her skin is so smooth Eman happily daydreamed of sliding on it. What a beauty, he thought.
"Maybe she's a princess?"
"No, she's definitely a goddess!"
The woman who now carries him smiled and laughed as she looked at him seemingly amazed.
"When did you become that talkative, little one?"
She continued moving to the table where she left her daily meal. A freshly baked bread, an aromatic soup and home-brewed tea. Eman remembered that she was an Elf so he thought of reaching his own ears. Only then he realized where his other hand was placed—somewhere so soft his fingers practically sank into it.
"It's a bit weird but—"
"—I think my mother is a gifted one," he said nodding, but all of his talking was just nonsense babbled to the woman.
"Wait—don't they wear inner garments here?"
He shook his head thinking that he's got a more pressing matter to check. Eman raised his arms and touched his own ears. Eman's hand lingered longer than he expected before looking at the woman again, confusion etched on his face. Instead of long pointed ears, his fingers brushed against small, rounded curves.
"I'm not an elf?" he said almost to himself.
"Are you alright, little one?" her eyebrows slightly raised and drawn together.
She gracefully sat on the chair after reaching the table. The woman gently grabbed Eman's head and slowly leaned hers toward his. Her forehead now resting against Eman. He thought how relaxing her smell, like that of a morning flower, combined by warmth of her body.
After a moment, she pulled away and sighed in relief. She smiled and said, "You got flustered so I thought you had fever."
"Thank goodness you're alright." she said, her voice like a melodic rhythm.
"Yes, it's good, but can't you see your clothing strap slid down!" he exclaimed while frantically waving his arms in the air.
His babbling caught the woman's attention again after she took a spoonful of soup. Her eyes widened a little as she swallowed her food before slightly turning, pulling up the side of her camisole. She then picked up her bread, bite some down and said, "You're just like Sam."
The woman continued to eat. Eman noticed something changed when she mentioned 'Sam'. Maybe his father abandoned them, maybe not.
But if that's the case, I'll beat him up when we see each other!
Finishing her breakfast, she began to stand up and put back Eman to his wooden crib. He then turned to his side, and sat down watching her. She was cleaning the table when she spoke. "Next time, I'll tell you about him—"
"—and Claire."
"But for now, I need to work."
Sam and Claire, huh? he thought still watching her doing the dishes.
And it seems like I still need to work here?
All the money I saved and those insurances—
20 years of saving—lost in an instant, but being reincarnated was not bad at all.
A crease formed on his small forehead.
Wait a minute, maybe there's magic here!
His eyes twinkled as he raised his arms. Eman's heart pounded, anticipation building as he started exclaiming, "Fireball!", he held his breath waiting for something to form between his raised hands. Moment has passed but nothing happened. He tilted his head, Maybe there's something like compatibility needed?
"Ice lance!"
"Electric shock!"
"Earth spike!"
But nothing happened. He slowly dropped his arms and stared blankly.
"What are you playing, little one?"
He didn't realize that the woman was already there, hanging two bottles of milk inside his crib. She was also wearing a different clothing now. Straight up dress with multiple patches all over it and was visibly smaller than her frame. Her brown belt also carries tools like trowel and hand cultivator. She patted his head and said that she will be back before nightfall. She picked up a rake on her way to the door before leaving the house.
Eman was too stunned he didn't even flinched after all that was happened. He looked at the milk bottles that she hanged. His growling stomach made him reached out for one of them but proved challenging enough for his baby body.
"Its too high, damn it!"
Until his body trembled.
The floor boards started vibrating along with everything inside the house. He looked up and saw dust raining down from the wooden ceiling too.
And then he heard it.
A low, thunderous growl echoed from above and everywhere.
Deep—terrifying.
Eman's breath hitched as fear took over his baby body. The intense shake made him lost his balance and he toppled on his back when he missed the wooden bar. He laid there unable to do lift even his fingers, not because of his infant state but because of the overwhelming effect of the enigmatic roar.
It then slowly faded away, leaving an unsettling silence.
By then, everything started to calm down except for Eman's pounding heart as he smirked.
That's definitely a dragon!