A kinda cliche reincarnation story

chapter 14

14 years old.

I learned and taught myself how to master the sewing part, which took a very long time; I had to move the needle with my mind, as well as hold up the fabric with my mind at the same time. It was getting easier, and I started making more complex things, like patterns.

Eventually I deemed myself to have mastered the exercise, looking for a new one.

I had pretty good control over the 'small motor magic'. (A term I came up with from my old life because I couldn't find what it was called here). So I wanted to do something to do with larger quantities of magic.

I found something after looking a while that I felt fit well into my requirements.

Illusions, they start off pretty small, just like making it look like there is a pencil mark when there's not. Moving up to an apple, and then to a book. Eventually making things like an entire door, or even a building -- where I'd practice that, I had no idea. But you had to work on making it look real, the texture of the pencil mark or the apple, the pages of a book, or the grooves of the wood of the door.

You work on your stamina, how long you can hold it, and sometimes, even making them touchable so that you can flip the pages of a book. Or, in high class cases, taste an apple.

The green-eyed boy showed up a few times again, pestering me with questions, but he seemed like he wasn't allowed to be here, running off from time to time.

I mastered the illusions, making up a door and part of the surrounding wall, holding it for about fifteen minutes- sometimes up to twenty.

I studied like this for a long time, I had an entire year before I could sign up.

When today finally come, the day to write my name on that paper, the one that meant you were taking the test, I was so jittery, pacing back and forth. I decide to keep busy and pass the time gambling, winning only 3 nizes.

And when it's finally time, the sun sitting high in the sky, I sprint across town, jumping from roof to roof, whooping in excitement.

The line is huge already, kids ranging from small looking fourteen year olds, to old and wise looking 17 yr olds. Parents and grandparents scattered throughout.

I get in line, still grinning. Not even the nastiest glare I receive from some pampered looking kids can douse my excitement today.

The line looked like it would take a long time, although we moved fairly fast, I was all the way down the street.

The wait probably isn't as long as it feels, but it feels like days. I fidget with my necklace, trying to calm my nerves. I'm just writing my name today. No need to be nervous, I'm simply writing some letters.

Now, I'm fairly short for a fourteen year old, probably from lack of nourishment. Because of this, I feel like an ant among giants, with all the towering bodies of the older kids. There's quite a few who looked to be having the same problem, but it doesn't really help.

But, despite being surrounded by giants, I'm still jumping with excitement. I'm higher up in the city than I'd ever been before, where the low nobles and high nobles' houses merge. I look extremely out of place.

Finally. Finally, I'm next. I pick up the quill and scratch my name and age down, Wilder, 14 years old.

The man standing behind the table looks at me strangely, "Don't you have a last name?"

"Nope."

The man just shrugs and yells out, "next!" and I run away, smiling from ear to ear.