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The Prophet's Ascension: Reincarnated as an Elf in Another World

Mara was reincarnated on the body of a child named Nefaaya after dying while trying to save her student. But it seems she wasn't the only one who was transported in this world, as she learned that the student that she tried to save died with her and was born on a body of a boy named Renaeril At first she thought it was perfect, she had a loving family and she was experiencing things that she didn't experience in her previous life. But just after ten years, a war broke out, her father was forced to join the army. She remained hopeful that everything would go back to the way it was, but it was immediately crushed when a mysterious group of people in white robes attacked their village. At the moment when Nefaaya was about to die, her mother sacrificed herself to save her and Renaeril. As she buries the corpse of the village folk, Nefaaya decides to go on a long journey to look for her father and at the same time vowing to avenge the death of her mother. PS: English isn't my first language, but I promised to give my best in writing this book.

ErosFontiel · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
12 Chs

Renaeril

Nefaaya sat on the stone staircase and watched her father's back as he talked to a woman. She was familiar to her, that woman. She racked her mind, trying to remember her face.

*When did I last see her? Or did I mistake her for someone I know back?*

It was early morning, Nefaaya looked up above the cloud-scattered sky. The lesson should have started half an hour ago but her father told her that they would be waiting for someone first.

*Who was that?* She asked him. But his father just simply told her one word. A classmate.

She was soon halted from thinking when she saw a kid with the same white hair and long ears, the only difference was his eyes—it's gold. He was peeking as he hide from behind the woman. Nefaaya's eyes widened and she stood abruptly. She felt her heart skip a beat.

"Ah!' she shouted and pointed at the kid. She was sure of it, it was her student that she tried to save, Dylan. Truth be told, Nefaaya had almost lost him in the back of her mind. She was months old when she first saw him. A baby who can do nothing but cry.

*And it had been almost five years,* she thought and wondered why she didn't see much of him.

Learo glanced from behind, his eyes narrowed at her. Nefaaya gulped. The woman bowed at his father and pushed the boy gently towards where her father was.

*He looked shy,* she said and wondered if the kid remembered her or his previous life. Despite her mother's persuasion, the kid had been hard to push. He looked up and bowed, "I'll do my best, L-lord Learo."

Learo stiffened. She noticed his shoulder twitched. Nefaaya was sure that her father's eyes widened.

"I think lord wouldn't suit me. Master Learo is fine."

"Nefaaya," Learo said and presented the boy to her. "This is Renaeril. From now on, he will be joining us in our sword classes. And also in language, but he would be studying a different language than us."

Nefaaya walked towards Renaeril and reached her hands. "Nice to be working with you."

Her father's eyes narrowed at her. *He's suspecting me again.* But still, she stared at him, trying to know if he could remember her.

The boy stared at her hands before he accepted it. He looked up to her, his golden eyes linger far longer than what was expected. Nefaaya was certain that she saw recognition in his eyes. Learo took hold of their shoulders, and guided them towards the wooden table.

That morning the wind was blowing mildly, shaking the leaves in the trees. The sound of it had relaxed her from all the thinking she had to do in translating.

*The dog swings in the wind.*

*Trying to reach for the moonlight maiden.*

Learo peeked at her work, and immediately turned his back to her, holding his laughter.

"What?" she asked, but her father refused to answer her.

During the duration of the class, when she wasn't thinking of her gruesome translations, she would find herself flying in happiness. She didn't know why, but the thought that aside from her remembering the world where she came from was enough to make her giddy. She hoped that the two of them could talk alone.

Her father commended her sword fighting as something fast and almost unpredictable. From afar, Renaeril watched as he slashed his sword repeatedly at the face of an unseen enemy.

Learo parried her wooden sword and threw it with a force that had made her fly. She crashed on the ground a few meters away from where she landed. The wooden sword left her hands and flew. Annoyed, Nefaaya rose slowly. She raised her hands and started chanting. It was a spell that she was still practicing. But her ego was hurt and she was eager to get it back.

"Earth number one!"

Rocks rose from the ground. Nefaaya throw it at the direction of her father. Learo didn't much as budge. He pulled his longsword from its scabbard. And slashed at the sharp rocks. Learo ran, spinning and pirouetting as he do so. Nefaaya's eyes widened as she realized that her father was aiming in her direction. She didn't have time to think of an escape plan when her father dashed forward.

Nefaaya felt the heaviness of the blade on her shoulder. She looked up and saw the glint in his eyes, something that was similar to pride.

"You're dead," he said.

Nefaaya gulped and opened her mouth to speak but she couldn't find the right words. She felt her knees shaking. Beside them a shout escaped followed by a sound of something heavy falling in the ground.

"Learo, what are you doing to my child?" Nefri said and ran towards the two of them and pushed her husband away.

"We're just practicing," he said as if it was enough of an explanation to why his sword is aimed at his daughter's neck.

Nefaaya couldn't help but burst into laughter at the foolishness of the situation.

"Mother, Father was just teaching me swords," she said and looked down. "I provoke him by casting and aimed it at him."

He sheathed back his sword, "she aimed at me with sharp stones!" he declared.

From afar, Nefaaya saw Renaeril looking at her in disbelief. She wondered what wrong she had done.

After the two of them got scolded by Nefri, they ended the class thirty minutes earlier and immediately got themselves in the wooden table near the shade of a tree to start their language lessons. Through the years, Nefaaya had been adept more in using High Li'lian, both in speaking and in writing. She also learns about their local language Fenriar—the language spoken in their kingdom. It was also one of the languages being taught to Renaeril, the other was Southern Li'lian. According to his father it is the most commonly spoken language in their continent.

The door of their house creaked open, the blowing winds brought the smell of hot cookies baked by her mother. Nefaaya turned and saw her mother carrying a tray with her.

"Since little Renaeril was here, I figured out he had to have a taste of the cookies that I baked," she announced and put down the freshly-baked cookies beside them. She looked at it closely, unlike her usual light-brown cookie this one was light red with a great white spot in the center

"What is it?" She asked

"That's the new flavor, I've been trying," she declared and hummed to herself.

She picked one with her fingers and put it in her mouth. There was something in the cookie that made her mouth water, she thought that white in the center was milk as it made the sour-sweet taste of the red part more balanced. It was a better cookie than the last one she had made.

Nefaaya pretended to enjoy the lesson that day, but the truth she was unsettled by the fact that right now, the closest she could ever have to Earth was sitting beside her, learning a language. She glanced at him and saw him intently mumbling to himself as he tried to translate what was written in the paper given by her father.

But to no avail, she hadn't had a chance to talk to him in private. And that situation continued for the next two days. Nefaaya absentmindedly thought that Learo was somewhat too focused in his teaching. Which she finds unusual.

It had taken almost three days before Nefaaya was given a chance to talk with him. His father left for the bathroom, Nefaaya waited for him to enter the house before she started breaking her fingers in an attempt to release the stress there.

She looked at Renaeril and asked abruptly, "do you know me?"

The boy stopped from scribbling and gulped as he looked at her. An uncomfortable smile was plastered on his face, "you're Nefaaya. Daughter o-"

"Dylan," she said. And he saw him shiver. "We both know what I'm talking about."

His golden eyes reflected the sun passing from the leaves above. Renaeril looked around and sighed in defeat, "yes, I know you. That's why I was really reluctant to go here."

He scratched the back of his head in shame. For a minute, the two of them just stared at one another, not knowing what to say. Perhaps trying to find the right questions to ask to one another.

Instead, Nefaaya said, "I don't see much of you here in the village."

"My mother here in this world told me that I was a sickly boy," he said. "We didn't know the cause of it, but lately it had subsided and she had me learn sword and language from Master Learo because she always saw the two of you."

Then he blushed for some unknown reason, "she figured... she figured out the two of us could be great friends since you don't go out in the village that much too "

Nefaaya looked at him in disbelief and laughed. While Renaeril stared at her dumbfounded. Nefaaya suddenly realized that she didn't go out much of the village ever since the incident about her disastrous fireball. The villagers gave her an eye ever since then.

She turned back on her parchment and nodded. "I guess we can.'

"To be honest, this cause me discomfort Teacher Mar-'

She raised her head and shook her head, "Nefaaya. I am Nefaaya."