Little Exploration

{ 11 MONTHS LATER... }

In the silence of the room on a warm summer afternoon, the bright sunlight filtered through the red curtains.

'Alright, let's try again!' Mirac exclaimed inwardly.

Over the past months, he had spent all his time being fed, playing with his wooden toys, having his diaper changed, and doing countless other things, behaving like the perfect baby he was.

But recently, the son of the royal Strongold family had started focusing on a new goal: getting out of his crib and exploring the castle!

'Come on!'

With his face lit by a mixture of determination and curiosity, little Mirac gripped the sides of his crib. His chubby fingers clutched the wood tightly, and his lively eyes studied every detail of the edge above him as if planning a daring adventure.

For the past four weeks, it had been the same story every afternoon: pushing himself up on his still-wobbly legs, Mirac would stand, swaying slightly. The soft mattress beneath his tiny feet made his movements unsteady, but the desire to explore the castle seemed stronger than any obstacle. He had tried numerous times, slipping back, sliding down with a frustrated huff. In short, he had never managed to get over the edge of the crib.

'Today's different, though, I can feel it!'

With a grunt of effort, he pulled himself up until his chin was over the railing. One foot, then the other, tried to find a foothold, pushing clumsily against the wood. His arms trembled from the strain, but with a triumphant smile and a laugh of victory, Mirac managed to lever himself just enough to get his torso over the edge.

For a moment, he seemed frozen in midair, caught between fear and the excitement of what was about to happen.

'Just a bit more, damn it!...'

Then, with one last push, he propelled himself forward, landing with a soft thud on the blue carpet surrounding the crib. He lay there, sprawled on the floor, surprised at his own accomplishment, but with eyes wide open with joy.

Mirac got up on all fours, looking back at the crib now behind him.

'Finally, damn it!'

His heart raced with excitement!

After about a month, Mirac had managed to escape that ridiculous "wooden cage" that kept him prisoner and prevented him from leaving the room to explore the castle.

'I know I said everything would slowly unfold in due time... But damn it, I'm bored to death! I'm not going to sit around here after doing that for over 60 years! And besides, there's no danger in taking a few steps to stretch my legs, right?'

Wasting no more time, little Mirac moved on to the second part of his plan: he crawled quickly, pushing forward with hands and knees that hit the floor at an eager pace. His hazel eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as he passed his scattered toys and the familiar corners of the room.

His goal was clear: the slightly open door!

'Hmph, just as I thought! She left it ajar again...'

With this thought, little Mirac referred to his personal maid, Carmen, who always left the door slightly open whenever she came to him. It was barely ajar, just enough so she could hear any cries of hunger or nighttime whimpers from the young Prince.

'But it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't cried three times a day for the last three weeks! Damn! How embarrassing...'

Swallowing the bitter feeling at the thought of a probable future nickname, "The Whiny Prince," that the chatty maids would likely use to refer to him, Mirac reached the door.

'Well, it was worth it. And now, it's you and me, buddy!' the baby finally declared, staring at his last wooden obstacle almost with a sense of challenge.

Taking a deep breath, Mirac's tiny fingers gripped the edge of the wood, and with a struggle accompanied by small grunts, he managed to push it. The door opened slowly, letting a beam of sunlight shine on his face.

'Ah, damn it!' he cursed inwardly, blinking to refocus his vision, momentarily blurred by the sunlight. 'That damn sun again!...'

Regaining his sight, the little Mirac gazed out at a long hallway bathed in the warm afternoon light streaming through the tall arched windows, all lined up in front of him and along the side of the corridor opposite the door. The red carpet adorning the floor looked like a royal path, soft and inviting, running between the black and white marble tiles in a checkered pattern. Each tile reflected the sunlight, creating a dance of light and shadows around him.

Mirac paused for a moment, eyes wide at the new world stretching out under the golden glow of the sun. It was as if the castle, which usually confined him within the arms of the maids and his mother, was now revealing its secrets.

'Let's begin!'

With a giggle of pure childlike joy, little Mirac lunged forward onto the carpet, turning right and moving down the hallway. The softness of the red fabric cushioned each impact, and the warmth of the afternoon wrapped around every movement he made.

He crawled quickly, almost running on his tiny hands and knees, and every inch he covered on the carpet felt like a victory.

'Faster, faster, faster!' he kept repeating to himself, constantly increasing his pace as he moved forward.

As he traversed the long hallway, Mirac sensed a solemn and majestic atmosphere. The walls were vanilla-colored, and every corner was an intricate blend of architectural details adorned with complex sculpted designs.

The coffered ceiling, made of dark oak, was often decorated with royal emblems and floral patterns, while natural light cast shadows that accentuated the depth of the spaces.

Little Mirac gazed around, enchanted by what he saw.

'The architectural style seems Renaissance, similar to that used in French castles of the 16th century.'

He primarily recalled this knowledge from art history books he had studied in high school. Besides math, and thus physics and sometimes chemistry, Mirac excelled in all other subjects!

'Modestly, a wasted genius...'

The carved wooden doors on the right side of the corridor were all closed, looking distant and mysterious.

'These should be the guest rooms. Wow, how many are there?!' Mirac wondered, without stopping as he continued his exploration.

Turning his gaze to the left, toward the many arched windows, the little adventurer looked up. But all he could see was the clear blue sky typical of a summer afternoon. It stretched vast and bright above him, a sea of warmth and light reflecting the liveliness of summer.

'I heard that the main part of the castle, where my room and my family's rooms are located, has three floors. King Arthur's three wives, whom he has somehow not yet divorced, and their other daughters also live here. But I've never seen them. Hmph, those snobs! Not that I care or am bothered that they haven't come to visit me… Anyway, from what I understand, the maids, butlers, and everyone else who works in the castle live in the apartments in the side wings of the palace.'

As he advanced along the long corridor, occasionally glancing left and right, Mirac noticed something else:

'Like in my room, there don't seem to be any electrical outlets in the hallway walls. The presence of candelabras instead of the usual lamps leads me to assume that, in whatever world I've ended up in, technology isn't as advanced as I know it! Now that I think about it, I've never heard the maids use words like "vacuum" when cleaning or "washing machine" when doing the laundry.'

However, living his second life with a primitive level of technology didn't seem like a tragedy to young Mirac.

After all, having lived on the streets in his previous life, he hadn't used phones, computers, or other conveniences of the 21st century in years. For this reason, he didn't miss them.

Though, as a child, when he still lived with his parents, he had been quite obsessed with computers.

'I really wanted to learn how to program a video game...'

Thinking back, there were so many things Mirac would have liked to do and learn in his past life. All dreams lost once he began living on the streets, in poverty and misery.

'Tsz, no use thinking about that now!' he thought, shaking his head to chase away those melancholy thoughts. 'With my new life, I can chase my dreams again!'

* * *

Mirac continued crawling for a while longer, unstoppable, until he came to yet another carved door. This one, however, unlike the others, was open! Or rather, slightly ajar.

The little explorer stopped as soon as he noticed it, carefully observing the oak wood. Then, with some effort—though less than before—he pushed the door, which opened without resistance.

'Let's see what's hiding behind here...'

Before him, a majestic room opened up: a large library, nearly two stories high, with shelves rising up to the ceiling. Every wall was lined with books, their worn leather covers and golden titles glinting in the sunlight. Despite the vast amount of flammable material and the presence of many arched windows, several brass candelabras were lit, casting small, soft flames.

Mirac stood wide-eyed, amazed and captivated by the impressive sight before him: his senses were overwhelmed by the intense smell of old paper and worn leather, while his gaze drifted over the endless volumes, seemingly filled with stories from distant eras.

Every detail, from the wood grain of the shelves to the golden gleam of the titles, seemed to whisper a secret, making the entire space feel alive and pulsating—a place where time seemed suspended and unknown knowledge reigned supreme.

Growing up and living in the castle, who knows how much new information he could gain, Mirac thought, from this cathedral of words.

'He he he… I can't wait!'

Just past the entrance, directly to his right, he spotted a figure hidden behind a book, sitting behind what appeared to be a solid wooden counter. Whoever it was, they seemed almost camouflaged among the pages, as if wanting to blend into the knowledge held within the text.

Mirac observed the figure closely for a few minutes.

'Probably the librarian...' the little explorer guessed, trying to glimpse the absorbed face hidden behind the book, but with no success.

All he could see were the person's hands holding the book, with fingers pressing into the cover and occasionally turning the pages.

It was clear that the so-called "librarian" was completely absorbed in reading, so much so that they hadn't noticed the open door or the little intruder who had just entered.

Moreover, regardless of their gender, the person at the counter wore a long black robe with golden patterns embroidered on the wrists, torso, and around the collar. It was evident that the garment was nothing less than an expensive product of a skilled tailor, who had surely been guided in its design by many years of experience.

As he analyzed the so-called "librarian" more closely, Mirac's small hazel eyes finally fell on the book they were avidly reading.

The book's golden title was elegantly engraved on the upper part of the burgundy leather cover. Around it, a golden frame wound in intricate scrolls and flame-inspired patterns, creating a rich and refined effect, as if it held precious knowledge.

In the center of the frame, a stylized drawing of a flame came to life with simple, flowing shapes: red, orange, and yellow intertwined harmoniously, giving the impression of a fire burning gracefully. This detail created a fascinating contrast, sure to catch the eye of anyone who loved books.

With excitement shining in his eyes, Mirac read the title and the supposed author, the latter inscribed a bit lower in smaller but equally golden letters.

"Advanced Magical Arts of Fire"

"Armin J. Bellsing"