Damien was reborn in a tiny village. His eyes were a piercing silver with a spark of intellect deep within. His mother, Elian, adored him. He was one of the few elves with an abnormal hair color; He was graced with silken raven black hair instead of the standard brunette or golden shades typical for elves.

Unique colors of hair indicated a strong magic infinity. Cyan was an arcane affinity with deeper blues being a stronger affinity. Elves with purple hair were almost always master arcanist as infants. They were also so rare that they may as well not exist. The more extreme oddities were silver and red hair. Silver was a holy affinity, which indicated the natural ability to produce holy magic. This was something impossible for many races, the notable exception being the gnomes who very frequently held this ability. Elian thanked the gods her child didn't have red hair. Infernal affinity would make one... less than popular and would often lead to a shorter lifespan. There was no color for fae as all Elves had a rudimentary ability with far magic. All of this only made it stranger that his hair was black, and she wasn't sure if it was for better or worse.

Elian had not named her child, for his name was one provided by her god. Many children of those dedicated to a good would have their parent's deity provide the name. Young Damien happened to be one of those. This act deepens the bond between the faithful and their idols of worship.

As he grew, Elian noticed he was an extremely sharp child. He walked only a few months after birth, though this wasn't too rare for elves as they had an inborn grace and dexterity that came with their every movement. What was surprising is the fact he started to talk only a month later.

Damien found his new life extremely comfortable. After he “woke up,” he noticed he was in the body of a baby at least a few weeks old. His mind felt sharper than ever, gathering and retaining information better than he had before. His infantile body had coordination that he was unfamiliar with. He was still clumsy, he was a baby after all, but he felt that he would have greater command over his body than he ever did on Earth once he was older.

Damien was quite fond of his new mother. While the idea felt odd as he remembered another mother, his new mom's kindness and affection quickly endeared her to him.

As he grew into a young child, he noticed was that he had a few differences between him and the other townspeople. His hair was black and unlike the others. His mother explained to him why when he asked.

He would later learn that he was a half-elf. His mother would lovely ramble on about his absent father. She described him as a roguish High Human with brilliant silver eyes and sleek black hair that he frequently slicked back with thick gel. Damien wished to meet him, simply to see how much of his heritage he had taken from him.

Damien trekked around the village frequently. Every breath was far more invigorating than any on Earth. Damien wasn't sure if it was his elven body or the new ambient energies that constantly swirled around him.

Damien spent a lot of time enjoying his second chance at childhood. The village wasn't extremely large, with a dozen or so buildings spread in the nearby area. He soon became familiar with everyone in town.

He frequently played with the kids in the village Saria, Lance, My’til, and Kera. He tried not to spend too much time with them, he was still an adult mentally, but he did like to humor them and played many games with them.

'Elves are stupidly good at hide and seek.' Damien mentally complained. He chased after Lance who weaved around his hand everytime he thought he had the boy. It was like catching a fly with chopsticks, Lance moved more like willow than man. He couldn't even get close to Kera, Every time it thought about it she stopped being a child and became as fleeting as the wind, dashing out of sight. Realizing that he wouldn't catch either of them he searched for Saria instead. wasn’t sure what wizardry it was but he searched for hours, just for her to appear next to him when he finally gave up. “How in the world do you do that?” Damien asked in resignation.

“I use magic.” Saria gleefully responded. Damien almost made a snarky retort, before his brain reminded him magic was a part of his reality now.

“Can you teach me?” He asked hopefully. Despite having been in this world for about six years now, Damien had mostly ignored magic excluding watching his mother's magic. Saria looked at him with a puzzled look. The ability came so naturally to her she didn't quite know how to phrase it. A child's vocabulary didn't help either.

“You just feel it around you and step inside it,” Saria said as her brow scrunched up. This was not helpful he felt that he had an inkling of what she was talking about. He always felt this… the energy surrounding him, he tried to “go inside” it, he tried to do something anything with it, but the power was slippery, fleeting, constantly escaping his control. After struggling futility for several more minutes attempting to hide in plain sight at Saria's blatant amusement, he eventually gave up.

“Whatever, I don't need to use magic to win.” He proclaimed obstinately puffing his chest out. This evoked yet another giggle for Saria, who greatly enjoyed his theatrics.

As Damien went home for the day, he reflected on Saria's proficiency with magic. He was talentless in comparison. This world had magic, and he had no skill in it. He immediately rushed to Elian and asked her to teach him magic. He had seen her use some of it occasionally as she made small potions and such which she sold to the other villagers.

Elian's elation was evident he asked the question. Elian was not mage herself, but she knew a handful of basic spells and had okay raw shaping skills for fae magic. She promised Damien she would teach him, but she had some shopping to do and had to gather herbs for tomorrow. Damien was ecstatic to address this weakness and could hardly go to sleep. He was going to learn magic.