Chapter 5

I am six years old, and Giselle is four.

I started making Otems two years ago, when I was four. Since then, I have been making Otems almost every day for two years.

Although I was at a loss for where to put them, I still have a fondness for the ones I made well. My father tried to burn them all, but I protested with tears and managed to get a part of the yard recognized as a place to store Otems. I'm glad I'm still a child. I rarely think that way, but I did today.

My father seems satisfied that his children are enthusiastic about their magical training and didn't want to discourage me. Giselle's support has also been significant. My father is weak for her.

However, the yard isn't that big. Many houses display Otems in front of their yards, but none have them piled up like a mountain of garbage like ours. It's clear we stand out from the rest, and my father doesn't seem to like it much.

I try to be selective and destroy most of them as soon as they are completed, but the number of homemade Otems keeps increasing. It used to take me more than a week to make one, but now I can make three a day. The Otems have gradually covered the yard. Now, over a hundred Otems are lined up in the yard.

Today, I used an Otem as a chair and was making Otems. Giselle was also there. I told her she could sit on an Otem, but she replied, "I can't sit on an Otem made by my big brother!" I made a few specifically to be easy to sit on, so I would have appreciated it if she had sat on one.

But while I make Otems every day, my sister just watches me every day. Her white cheeks slightly flushed, she watches me making Otems with a joyful look. I wonder if she never gets tired of just watching. I often think about teaching her how to make Otems, but I have some resistance to letting my cute little sister handle a knife. Maybe a little more... at least until Giselle turns five, I'll see how it goes. I'll discuss it with my father too. If I let Giselle hold a knife without telling my father, I might get beaten when he finds out.

"... Abel, Abel."

Just as I was thinking about my father, he called out to me with a worried look. I hadn't noticed his presence because I was deep in thought. I almost dropped my knife in surprise but quickly caught it mid-air.

"What is it, Father?"

"Why do you continue to make so many Otems?"

"Well, when you ask me why... I mean, this is the best way to practice magic..."

In this Maren tribe village, how skilled one is at magic is a status symbol. As a parent, it should be a joy to see one's child devoted to magical training, but recently, my parents have been looking at me with a puzzled expression.

"But... you know. I made my first Otem when I was eight. I'm not saying it's too early, but... it's also okay to be more childlike and play."

I see, so you're worried that I'm not being childlike enough. However, by my standards, those who spend their time on magical training are far more childlike... but saying that in a world with actual magic probably doesn't make much sense.

But even if I try to be more childlike, I'm over twenty if you count my previous life. I can't bring myself to play with the village children. It's much more fun to make Otems and be involved with magic. If there were games or smartphones, it might be different, but I don't think such things exist in this world.

"For example, why don't you go play in the forest outside the village? I can't allow you to take Giselle there yet because it's dangerous..."

The forest outside the village... huh. But what am I supposed to do there to play? Maybe running around is fun for children, but mentally, I'm past that stage.

I even consider telling them about my previous life, but I stop myself. If I get kicked out of the village for being creepy or executed for being possessed by a demon, it wouldn't be worth it. Sometimes I even wonder if I am possessed by a demon. Even if I don't get executed or kicked out, I don't want to make my family uncomfortable. I love my current parents and sister. I value them as much as I did my family in my previous life.

"But... but..." "N-no! I don't want to! If that's the case, I'll go too!"

Giselle clung to the hem of my clothes tightly. It's quite a force. Stop it, you'll make wrinkles.

"U-uh..."

This time, it was my father's turn to be speechless. He is weak for Giselle.

"Father, Father, you always tell me to get along with my big brother, so why are you saying such things!"

Giselle finally burst into tears. She is a big brother's girl and is only four years old. It's no wonder she would throw a tantrum if I were to be taken away. This is my father's mistake.

I comfort Giselle by patting her back and then deliberately glare at my flustered father.

"Hey, stop crying! It's Father's fault, it's Father's fault!"

Good, I successfully deflected. I pat Giselle's back with gratitude and comfort. Giselle sobs and leans against my body, tightly wrapping her arms around my torso.

I sneak a glance at my flustered father and stick out my tongue. For a while, I'll use Giselle as a shield to escape. I don't want to hurt her, so from now on, I'll set things up in advance to catch my father off guard and drive him away. Giselle is always by my side, so she should function as a shield at all times. It might sound a bit harsh, but that's the plan.