The Reincarnated Person

"Canopus, what are you thinking about?"

The child who had been called rested his chin on his hand and turned to look at his teacher, Merlin.

"I... seem to remember something?" The confusion gradually faded from his eyes. Then he abruptly sprang to his feet and began feeling around his small body.

"Finally awake?"

The old druid, with his great mass of beard and diagonally striped robes, studied his young apprentice with interest. His wrinkled hand mimicked the boy's gesture, propping up his own chin.

"Where is this? How did I get here? I'm Qianli... I'm Canopus... Who am I?"

Canopus clutched his black curls and ran to the edge of the tranquil stream, looking down into it.

A handsome, slightly pale young face appeared in the water. Anyone who saw it would have called him a truly fine-looking boy.

But he was certain that he had once been an ordinary-looking Chinese young man. He definitely had not looked like this.

His final memory had been of an act of bravery. A little girl had been crying for help in the water, and he had jumped in to save her, only to sink beneath the surface in the end when his strength gave out.

Had that little girl been saved in the end?

Memories from his previous life had been slowly awakening all this time, until they finally fully unlocked today, in the year he turned eleven. The boy now named Canopus Black splashed water over his face and gradually calmed down.

"Merlin... Teacher, are you the Merlin I remember?"

The wrinkles on the old druid's face crinkled into a smile. Stroking his beard, he shook his head.

"I am indeed Merlin, but unlike those legendary tales in your head, I am not the child of a demon and a human, nor did I die at the hands of a maiden I admired." He reached out and patted Canopus on the head. "I am merely an old druid of considerable power."

Canopus looked around. Above him stretched a vast, clear azure sky, while birds sang and flowers bloomed all around them. They stood in the middle of a broad plain.

"Then this is Avalon?"

"No. This is Fairyland, the world after death—the so-called 'heaven' far removed from the mortal world. Avalon is merely a small island within Fairyland."

A pleasant female voice rose from the stream behind him. Canopus turned to see an elegantly dressed noblewoman slowly walking across the water's surface.

She was beautiful, graceful, and carried an air of nobility in every gesture, like a young queen from some distant land.

Yet her expression held a girl's mischievous playfulness, and her lovely eyes watched Canopus with a teasing glint.

Canopus offered a somewhat helpless smile and greeted her. "Morgan... Sister."

"What, now that your memories have returned, you don't plan on calling me Sister anymore? Didn't I raise you when you were little?"

The woman who called herself Morgan le Fay stepped onto the shore and vigorously rubbed Canopus's cheeks until he begged for mercy.

In the legends of King Arthur, Morgan was King Arthur's older half-sister on his mother's side. But she was cruel by nature and repeatedly plotted against King Arthur.

For instance, King Arthur's Sword in the Stone had broken after he took part in a duel that violated chivalry, all because of Morgan's scheme.

After King Arthur obtained the Steel-Breaking Holy Sword, Morgan used magic to switch it with her lover's sword, letting him wield the true blade while King Arthur fought with an imitation. King Arthur had nearly met his end on the spot.

Even when King Arthur later lost his scabbard, Morgan had been behind it. That ultimately left King Arthur gravely wounded in his battle with Mordred, and he died of his injuries.

Yet the beautiful noblewoman before him, brimming with a spoiled girl's mischief, simply could not be reconciled with the ruthless, venomous woman from those tales.

Caught between legend and his own experiences, Canopus unconsciously pulled a miserable face.

Morgan unceremoniously slapped the back of Canopus's head, snapping him out of it.

"Stop thinking such nonsense. I'm also a powerful druid, and my standing in the order is even a little higher than that fellow Merlin's. We can see everything you're thinking!"

"What about my privacy?" Canopus protested indignantly, rubbing the back of his head.

"Talk to me about privacy once you become a true druid."

Morgan pinched Canopus's cheek again, took his hand, and walked with Merlin toward the clearing in the woods where they usually taught him.

The three sat cross-legged in a circle. Sunlight poured down from overhead, and the familiar surroundings calmed Canopus's chaotic thoughts a little.

Memories from before his birth surfaced in his mind. He could only vaguely recall fragments of a song his mother had chanted, along with the names of his enemies.

"Bellatrix, and the Death Eaters?"

Canopus could not help thinking of the Harry Potter books and films from his previous life, his heart filled with disbelief.

"I told you," Merlin said, casting Morgan a triumphant glance, "he would definitely remember those things. After all, he crossed death itself. He is a druid by nature."

"I would rather call that story in your mind a prophecy." Morgan tapped Canopus on the forehead. "It is extraordinarily precious, and it is bound to be accurate. As for the price, I believe you have already figured it out."

Canopus silently covered his face.

Druids were priests, judges, and advisors to kings. Prophecy was one of the abilities they had to possess.

Relying on the inexplicable gifts of a reincarnated soul, Canopus had learned the druidic language, Ogham runes, and the methods for brewing various potions from Morgan and Merlin. Yet he could never learn prophecy, the ability that depended most on talent.

Sacrifice a white bull? Eat bread made with mistletoe seeds? Or bathe in a stream valley on the night of Samhain?

No matter what he tried, he had never received even a single word of prophecy. It seemed that retaining his memories had been the price he paid.

He had even cried over it several times. Thinking back on it now that his memories had returned, it was truly embarrassing.

"Honestly, I would rather you had never remembered any of this."

Morgan sighed, her slender brows drawing together.

"You are already in Fairyland. Your mortal shell still remains within the trunk of your mother, who has become an oak tree. If you continue living here, then once your shell dies naturally, you will belong here completely."

"This was the paradise countless people could only dream of, yet by a stroke of fortune, you arrived directly at the destination they could never reach."

Kano grinned and raised his head to look at Morgan.

"You know what I'll do once my memories return, don't you?"

Morgan nodded helplessly.

"You'll avenge your parents, and while you're at it, completely destroy Voldemort, the one responsible for all those tragedies."

"That's right. Besides that... I want to see that beautiful world where magic exists with my own eyes."

"My familiar yet unfamiliar people, the wondrous Hogwarts and Diagon Alley." Kano's voice was filled with anticipation. "What was my hometown like, and where will this world go from here?"

In Fairyland, there was never any fear of hunger, and everything went exactly as one wished. It suited elders weathered by life's hardships, but it could not confine a spirited young man.

Kano rose to his feet, his eyes shining brightly. His gaze seemed to pierce through the vast sky and see that complicated yet real world.

Though this boy had once been mature, even in his previous life, the blood surging in his heart had never cooled.

Merlin rose with a smile, while the somewhat displeased Morgan could only stand as well.

Merlin took out his long wand, one that could serve as a walking stick, and lightly touched its tip to the ground. Ripple-like magic spread beneath the three of them, and their figures vanished instantly from the tranquil woods.

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