Chapter Text
Being X was a real piece of work. Once again, he seemed determined to put me through a hellish existence. I was placed in an even more regressed world than in my second life. No modern creature comforts and in an era that was positively medieval. Only that wasn't good enough for Being X; no, he had to put me in a world with literal monsters. Honestly, I didn't even understand why was I even existing here. I had been certain oblivion would be what I had to look forward to upon my death. It just goes to show how foolish I was in believing anything that charlatan said.
Dying had been unpleasant enough, and it was made all the worse for the cruel irony of the situation.
I had no reason at all to fight so hard to protect the person I had been ordered to assassinate. The death of General Rudersdorf had been the entire purpose of me being with the convoy. It soured my stomach as I remembered how desperate I had been to make the defense look believable. The company I led had used our protective shells to literally body block the explosive formula and shots fired on the plane. I had underestimated how many Albion elites had been part of the assault, and the wave of fire had torn apart my defenses. Had I been using my normal stratagems; I would have dodged. I should have dodged. But I didn't; instead, I let fear of my duplicitous mission being found out cause me to take a poor risk.
Occasionally I wonder if my heroics saved the very person I had been sent to kill. There was no way of knowing, as this was clearly a completely different world.
My earliest years, I had little memory of, I suspect it was all in jumbles fitting two lifetimes of memories into a tiny undeveloped brain. By the age of three, everything I knew had returned to me. Boredom was my biggest foe, but soon was I was able to prove my precociousness, and my parents were able to teach me more. They were simple folks; he dug ore from the ground and she took care of the house and raised chickens for eggs and meat.
They had not been wealthy, but they hadn't been poor. Life wouldn't have been so bad, if it weren't for the fact, we lived in a nation bordering a place called The Blight. The Blight was home to monstrous humanoid creatures called Trollocs. These beings were typically nine feet tall and far stronger than humans. They had bestial features, ranging from those of canine, bird, bear and more.
These creatures regularly attacked Kandor. I was only six when my parents were slain in a Trolloc raid. Our little township was not right at the border but 15 miles in. It was a horrid night. Had it not been for my Mage abilities, I would have died along with my parents. I tried not to think about it.
The one nice thing about my current life is that I could still do some magic. This body had magic circuits, and I could to a small extent replicate what I could do with a computation orb. Before their invention there had been those rare few who had the ability to manipulate reality around themselves without the aid of technology, but it was so rare most thought it even a myth or an exaggerated story. There was a reason why the young were tested for magical ability, instead of just knowing they had it, it was because utilizing said ability was nearly impossible. Nearly. But not fully impossible, and that is what I studied and tried to perfect in my early childhood years.
Sadly, only to limited utility. The computation orb actualized phenomena by applying the appropriate amount of stimulus to the right location. It automatically calculated the appropriate amounts of mana needed with analog arithmetic and theoretically, whatever it could do could be replicated by applying said formulas yourself. So much easier said than done.
To put it simply you would need to be an idiot savant or some type of super genius to reliably use formulas to float, let alone fly without an orb.
I could mimic some of what a computation orb could do, but only the simplest of feats. The first I tested was the typically passive protective film used for personal defense on the battlefield. It wasn't that the more active defense shell which could stop high-caliber rounds but I had hoped it would stop simple physical attacks. It left a lot to be desired. Practicing by falling from differing heights I could calculate how many Newtons I could reliably use my protective film. The good news was I could fall a pretty fair distance; the bad news was that if my math was correct, and it almost always was, the film would shatter if a strong man, or an average Trolloc hit me with a weapon. Basically, good for one shot, and then I would have to reapply it.
I moved on from personal defense to other ideas. Explosive formulas scared the hell of me given that they combined multiple elements and would require a lot of math. Optical formulas were easier. After days of trial and error I finally mastered being able to use it mentally, though this wasn't as efficient as anchoring it by sticking out my arm. The power output wasn't anything like what I could do in my second life, but it wasn't useless. I could give someone a very nasty burn with it.
To be quite honest, I had never spent time in my second life testing the limits of orb-less casting. Maybe it was natural that doing it without a computation orb drastically decreased the power output, even while using the same equations. Or maybe it was that this world didn't have the same rules when it came to using magical circuits. My body felt the same, which was another oddity. Why in the hell did I look exactly like Tanya Degurechaff had in my second life? Why the hell was I named Tanya Degtyaryov in my third? Other family names here had a Slavic origin, so it wasn't necessarily out of the ordinary for the land. Some others were also East Asian, if I went by Earth origins. All this meant that Being X was still toying with me.
With my parents dead, the people of my town found me and decided to take me to Chachin, the capital of Kandor. My mother supposedly had a cousin who lived there. Not seeing a reason to object I did what the adults wanted. The city was impressive. It was built around several hills, and it actually had mountains within the interior. Three tall ring walls were behind a 100-foot-wide dry moat. Access across the moat to those walls required traversing one of the heavily guarded bridges across it.
This place was a fortress, and I was glad of it. The Trolloc raid in the middle of the night had been an awful experience, shattering my bit of childhood lackadaisicalness. I had even allowed myself to play with other children once or twice. It had felt silly doing so, but aerobic exercise was aerobic exercise and it had been… enjoyable. Several of those children were now dead from the Trollocs.
My mother's cousin was man named Derwan. The man was in his 30s and a widower with no children. He had been reluctant to take me in at first, but seeing as how I was kin he accepted. Part of his hesitation was that he had never had children of his own and had no idea how to care for me. His other apprehension was that his occupation was caravan guard for the Kandori Merchant's Guild. He spent a lot of time on the cross-Borderland route running from Bandar Eban to Fal Moran. This kept him out of the house for long periods of time, and I was still just six years old.
"Derwan, if I am left with food, I will be self-sufficient. I will ensure the house is kept clean and tidy while you are away. Once I am older, I will also be able to work whatever jobs are available to me."
He gave a sigh, "I suppose you don't have anywhere else to go. Very well, Tanya, I'll show you where you'll be sleeping and who to turn to if you need help while I'm gone. I have another week before I need to head out."
Derwan's home wasn't too bad all things considering. It had a kitchen and dining area and three rooms. A cot was provided to me and a pillow and linens. Derwan didn't own any books, which was disappointing but not surprising. I heard rustling in the kitchen and went out to see Derwan begin making a stew.
"Let me help with that."
"Can you even reach the counter?" He asked.
I was short again for my age, but this was mostly due to my age than any curse of diminutiveness Being X gave me. I went to the table and dragged a chair over and then stood on it.
"Problem solved."
"Light, you really don't need to help, you've just arrived."
I barely knew the man, but our familial connection was that of a direct sibling, grandparent, or parent. If I didn't pull my weight, I would likely be shown the door.
"It will be good practice when you are away with work," I replied.
He looked uncomfortable, but handed me some turnips and onions to dice. He watched carefully until he was certain I wouldn't cut myself.
"Burn me, you're good at that! Well done," he complimented.
The stew of turnips, onions, and dried meat was filling and we talked more at the table. I could tell he was awkward around me. I tried to put him at ease, but the more I nonchalantly chatted the more troubled he appeared. What was I doing wrong? Not seeing a ready solution, I opted to plead tiredness and go to bed.
***
"Surviving a Trolloc raid did something to her. Light forgive me, but she's broken."
Derwan was speaking with the herb woman, who provided remedies for common illnesses and poultices for cuts. Kamil was an older woman with graying hair and nodded in understanding.
"It is not uncommon for the mind to be injured after such horrors. Does she have nightmares?"
"No!" He threw up his hands in frustration. "That's the problem. She doesn't cry, she doesn't have nightmares, she doesn't speak of her parents, she doesn't seem happy, but she doesn't seem sad either. All she does is clean around the home, organize, and cook. When she is done with the chores, she assigns herself, all she does is sit in her room."
Kamil furrowed her brow. "Tragedy changes people. I can visit her if you would like, but I suspect she just needs time. You should arrange for her to be around other children." She let the statement sit there for a moment. "And Derwan, it has been seven years. It is a testament to the love you shared, but man was not meant to live alone. Find a wife who will also be a mother for the girl."
Derwan sighed. How could one contemplate replacing the one you treasured most? It was doubtless good advice. His family name would otherwise likely depart to when the last embrace of the mother took him. And maybe it was time…
That evening he returned home. Tanya greeted him immediately. "Derwan, the clothes are all washed and packed for your trip. I took the liberty of trying a different recipe for hard bread that should keep on your journey, with the peppers you like."
Derwan was very concerned over his adopted daughter, however he had to admit that whoever married her in the future would be a lucky individual indeed. Her zeal to organize and prepare things had been most welcome.
"You didn't have to do all that; you are family, not a servant."
"I like to pull my own weight."
"Well, thank you. It will make the journey easier. I'll be away for some time with merchants. Is there a doll or dress you would like me to purchase for you?"
"Nothing is necessary, I am quite content with what you have provided."
"Tanya… I took you in and I will be a proper parent for you. Surely, you want something."
She hesitated and Derwan leaned.
"Books interest me, I know how to read."
That was surprising, children were taught letters, when time allowed, but it was usually when they were in their teens.
"Ah hah, well I will see what I can."
Tanya quickly amended her statement, "A history book, please, not stories."
Derwan just shook his head in exasperation. She was an odd one, but he'd do his best to get her what she wanted. Maybe it would even help her get past the tragic deaths of her parents.
***
I had done the best I could to showcase my utility. The simple reality is that Derwan did not like me around, and I could commiserate. In my first life, if I had to take care of a six-year-old, I would be doing all I could to get rid of them. Taking care of family for the short term was clearly seen as his duty, but I knew he would be looking into whatever passed for orphanages.
I didn't want that to happen; this setup was perfectly ideal. Derwan would be gone for two months, and that gave me an exceptional amount of time to work on practicing with my magic and learning a bit more of the wider world. I wouldn't be lax on my physical form either. This was still the Borderlands, where Trollocs could come boiling out of The Blight at any moment. While the walls of the capital had not been breached in living memory, best to be prepared and not need it than not be prepared and need it.
He had left me a small bag of silver marks for food and other things I would need. Derwan also let me know that I should go to Kamil if I needed anything, anything at all. I was also told to try to make friends with other children, which was a complete waste of time, but I would need to find one or two to make nice with me. Maybe even bribe with a few copper pennies to say how we were now friends once Derwan returned. I'd not give him a reason to think I was disobedient.
Experimenting further with magical formulae was productive. A computation orb would have made everything easy, but even without it I could concentrate and run through the mathematical requirements to alter reality locally. Flying was out, but I could hover. I could also push myself in any direction I desired at a high rate of speed briefly. From a standing position it was passably easy to do the math, but once I was accelerating it became nearly impossible to apply additional vectors on the fly.
The biggest surprise was how internal alterations to my body, weren't that complicated. The reflexive enhancements, which essentially just sped of my brain and improved my coordination, were easy to keep going. Not all day, the use of the formulae still tired me out, but I could keep it up for almost two hours if I didn't use it for anything else. I could also dope myself up on pain killers and mimic the effects of powerful drugs.
The protective film was easy to maintain as it did not require constant usage of my magical reserves. I felt far more secure wearing it around me all day. It was effectively invisible and it allowed smaller particles like air to pass through so I could breathe without issue. It did have to be taken down when I ate.
Complex illusions were too difficult, but I could use simple ones that didn't move. Not overtly useful, specially with how Trollocs also used smell, but I bet it would work as a distraction when necessary. All in all, I felt good about my combat repertoire.
My parents had taught me about the world, about The Blight, and the Dark One, about Trollocs, and other basic stories. One of those was Aes Sedai. Women who could channel the One Power and do all sorts of amazing things. Fling fire, call lightning, heal the sick, and more. I suspected that my magical circuits were also within these Aes Sedai, but I wasn't sure. Unfortunately, the Aes Sedai were incredibly rare and did not often travel from their base of operations, a city called Tar Valon that held the White Tower.
Also, I had never heard of anyone's magical circuits driving someone mad. Yet here in this universe, all the male users of the 'One Power' invariably went insane. That didn't add up, though maybe it was some sort of propaganda to ensure a matriarchal control on magic. I'd need to get answers at some point, but it was hardly pressing for now.
Time passed, as it was wont to do, and I explored the city a bit more. Chachin was large and a bit of a trade hub in the Borderlands. The main road to the south that passed through Tar Valon flowed through the city. Crime was highly localized to certain streets and neighborhoods. Our home was modest, but it was a relatively peaceful neighborhood. Theft was rare, dueling however was not. Near everyone was armed and matters of pride and honor were serious things. Dueling didn't always, or even typically, end in death, but in the two months I was left alone I'd seen two men die in duels.
Something else that was interesting compared to my former lives was that the law forbade the wearing of any sort of face covering. That was to prevent any Myrddraal from sneaking about the city.
As awful as Trollocs were, Myrddraal were significantly worse. Though what was rumor and what was fact, I wasn't certain. Myrddraal reportedly had the ability to 'fade' away, which sounded like some sort of teleportation ability. They had no eyes, but could see perfectly and there was a saying that said that "the look of the eyeless was fear," and men spoke of it as true. Slaying one earned someone the title Dreadbane. Beyond that they were supposed to be incredibly dangerous with their swords and nearly impossible to kill. Truly something spawned from the pits of Being X's depraved imagination.
I listened to conversations in my wandering and noted the prices of goods. I occasionally played with the children; simple games like tag seemed universal, even across universes. These games were played, despite the cold. The land of Kandor wasn't artic but it would be analogous to the northern portion of the Empire - or Germany if I went by my first life. It had four seasons, but winter brought snow and bitter cold, and it was halfway through spring before they melted away.
Two months passed quickly and Derwan would be home soon. Everything was as it should be at the house. I had visibly played with other children. There should be no cause to abandon me to some orphanage.
***
Guard duty was simple enough, and keeping to the main road meant few brigands would chance an attack. Between the general wariness of potential Trolloc raids and the presence of Sniffers in most of the major cities of the Borderlands, it was a fool's game to try.
Desperate men sometimes did desperate things. Derwan woke to arrows flying down, and he and the other dozen guards quickly drew their blades and find the archers. The bandits no doubt had hoped to kill a few more with arrows but their aim was poor. Still, two of his companions were dead. That hadn't happened in years.
The merchant would pay the families of the men extra, and the rest of them too. Derwan had a heavy purse when he returned, and he had been able to purchase not just one, but two books for his adopted daughter. One was a book that the merchant said was a historical account of Artur Hawking's reign. Derwan knew how to read, but not well, but the book seller seemed trustworthy. The second book was one about the "Succession Wars" in Andor. He wasn't sure if Tanya would truly enjoy these, but the other options were tales, or books of poetry, or collections of obscure knowledge, and not history.
He had also resolved to take Kamil's advice and find a woman to marry. It had been long enough, and Tanya needed a mother. Light knew he had no idea how to be a father.
He arrived to a nearly spotless home. Items were laid and ready to be cooked and Tanya greeted him.
"Welcome home Derwan, I did not know the exact time you would be returning, but I'll start supper now."
Derwan smiled at her. "Thank you, Tanya. I've brought you some gifts, but you can have them on one condition."
She looked excited for a moment and then guarded.
"Condition?"
"Call me da, I can never replace your father, but I will do my best."
A small smile appeared on her face, "Your terms are acceptable… da."
Feeling much better he fished out the two books and felt at peace for the first time since he had agreed to take his cousin's daughter in.