A Good Breakfast

My stomach gave a faint growl of hunger, pulling my attention back to the breakfast laid out before me. The food was arranged impeccably on the tray: four golden slices of toast, two perfectly cooked eggs, crispy strips of bacon, what appeared to be artisanal sausages, and a small bowl of colorful fruit salad. And, of course, there was the midnight orange juice—a fruit so named because it could only be harvested at midnight; otherwise, it would wither immediately after being picked.

I smiled slightly. 'At least breakfast here isn't too different from Earth's.'

I began assembling an improvised sandwich. Grabbing two slices of toast, I placed an egg in the middle, followed by the crispy bacon and sausages sliced lengthwise. With the first bite, I was immediately surprised by the flavor. "Mmm! Delicious," I murmured, unable to hide my satisfaction.

'How can something as simple as an egg taste this good? No, it's not just the egg… it's everything.' Every ingredient seemed to have been prepared with care and exceptional quality.

As I ate, my eyes fell on the ring on my finger. Its subtle shine caught the sunlight, and I turned it slowly between my fingers. 

'For now, I can't even use the most basic level-one spells. Why do the Dracknums have so much bureaucracy?' I murmured, letting a hint of irritation slip.

Based on Alexander's memories, the Dracknum family had a unique method of educating their direct descendants. During the first ten years of their lives, children were given complete freedom to choose how to spend their time, as long as they received the basic education required of nobles. This freedom included training with swords, exploring languages, playing, or simply doing nothing.

'And Alexander,' I thought, 'Chose to spend most of his time in the library.' That memory made me sigh. Of course, I loved books too, but Alexander's level of dedication was extreme. He would spend hours in the library, even falling asleep among piles of books, diving into stories, treatises, and ancient manuscripts.

As I took another bite of the sandwich, a low laugh escaped my lips. 'If I was an avid reader before, I'm officially a compulsive one now,' I murmured to myself, allowing a moment of relaxation. 

The taste of the food, combined with reflections on my new life, seemed to soothe the torrent of thoughts that had occupied my mind since I arrived here.

A fresh breeze entered through the open window, carrying the gentle scent of morning. I looked outside and smiled, taking in the view before me. There were no towering buildings or high walls, just a vast green plain with gentle undulations that seemed to dance under the rising sun. The landscape was peaceful, almost idyllic, and for the first time since I woke up, I felt a strange sense of belonging.

"Well, at least I should be able to use basic elemental magic," I sighed, an unusually relaxed smile on my face as my gaze wandered into the distance. According to Alexander's memories, this was the Dracknum residence on the outskirts of the capital. Though the family owned a property within the city, the patriarch preferred this one—apparently for its freedom and view. 

'My new father really has good taste,' I murmured as the wind gently caressed my face.

I finished breakfast and wiped my hands with an elegant napkin. Albert returned shortly after, deftly removing the tray and leaving behind a crystal-clear jug of water and a glass.

"Young Master," he said in his impeccably polite yet firm tone, "we'll be departing in an hour. Please ensure you are ready by then."

His gaze swept over me from head to toe, and I realized something was wrong when I saw his brow furrow slightly.

Puzzled, I glanced down and immediately understood why: I was still dressed in pajamas. To me, they resembled a cassock, similar to those worn by priests, but clearly tailored for a noble child.

"I understand, Albert. I'll bathe and change," I replied, embarrassed by the oversight. 'Though, really, this is Leopold's fault, not mine. I've probably been wearing these since the transformation happened', I thought, my expression returning to normal.

Albert hesitated for a moment before asking, as naturally as ever, "Young Master, would you like assistance with your bathing or dressing?"

I rolled my eyes but maintained composure. Drawing on Alexander's memories, I responded confidently, "Why do you still insist on asking, Albert?"

He tilted his head slightly, the way he always did when about to give a response he knew was futile but delivered out of sheer stubbornness.

"Perhaps one day the Young Master will accept? It's rather unusual for a young noble to wash and dress himself. If rumors were to spread, people might think the family had abandoned you."

I let out a short laugh and shook my head.

"Albert, it's been almost two years since I made that decision. If rumors were going to spread, they would've done so by now." Crossing my arms, I smiled—a small, childish reminder of my determination. "Besides, a noble should know how to take care of himself, don't you think?"

Albert sighed, clearly resigning himself to the argument, though his dignity remained intact. "Understood, Young Master. I'll be available should you require anything."

Once Albert left, I took advantage of the silence to rise and approach the window again. By now, the sunlight had fully illuminated the room, highlighting the refined details of the furniture and the soft texture of the carpet beneath my bare feet. The fresh, clean air wafting through the window brought with it a strange sense of calm, as if, for a brief moment, everything was exactly as it should be.

"Let's do this," I murmured, a renewed sense of determination surging within me. It was time to make the most of the minutes I had before heading out.

I raised my hand and looked at the ring, feeling its discreet yet constant presence, as if it were an extension of myself. This time, there was no need to recite the activation code. A simple thought, a mere flicker of intent, and it responded. The interface materialized in my mind just as before—clear and organized, resembling a game menu or, perhaps more fittingly, a virtual library.

'I've got about 15 to 30 minutes,' I thought, analyzing the options before me. 'Enough time to try learning something simple.'

I filtered the available spells, focusing solely on the basic elemental ones. These foundational spells, also known as Level 0 magic—or "task magic" in some regions—were perfect for beginners. They relied solely on the elemental mana present in the environment, bypassing the need for complex incantations, elaborate rituals, or intricate magic circles. Depending on the user's skill, some could even be cast without vocal commands.

These spells weren't meant for grand feats but were invaluable for simple tasks—or for helping novice mages acclimate to the feel of magic, whether elemental or otherwise.

I focused only on the magic that aligned with my affinities and required less time to master.

"Let's find one that suits me."