Re:Birth: A Slow Burn LitRPG Mage Regressor

Sam fidgeted with the collar of his shirt for the third time in as many minutes. ”Are you sure we look okay? Maybe I should have worn the blue one.” 

Adom glanced sideways at his friend as they walked through the sunlit streets of the Diplomatic Quarter. ”The shirt is fine, Sam.”

”But what about the gifts?” Sam continued, adjusting the small package tucked under his arm. ”We should have brought something more impressive than pastries and tea. This is a diplomat’s family. What if they’re expecting, I don’t know, something better?”

Adom sighed. Not an exasperated sigh, but the patient exhale of someone who had watched this particular play many, many times before.

”The tea is from the highlands of Mirrasa,” he said calmly. ”It’s harvested once a year during the Blood Moon and costs more per ounce than silver. The pastries are from Gerri’s bakery, which has served three generations of the imperial family. If anything, we’re being ostentatious.”

”But what if they don’t like tea? Or what if Tirajin have some cultural taboo against pastries that look like animals? Or what if—”

”Sam.”

”What?”

”You’re overthinking again.”

Sam ran a hand through his hair.

”Sorry,” he murmured. ”I just want to make a good impression. This is important.”

”It’s lunch,” Adom corrected, ”not a diplomatic summit.”

”A lunch with the daughter of a Tirajin diplomat! How often does anyone get invited to something like this?”

Adom adjusted his pace, slowing to allow an elderly couple to pass. ”Sam,” he said, ”you don’t have to shine loud. Stars shine in silence.”

Sam stopped walking.

Zuni perked up, peering up at Adom with bright, curious eyes.

”What does that even mean?” Sam asked after a moment.

”It means,” Adom continued without breaking stride, ”that trying too hard to impress people usually accomplishes the opposite. Just be yourself. That’s interesting enough.”

Sam hurried to catch up. ”Sometimes I forget you’re like... ninety years old.”

”Eighty, actually,” Adom corrected.

”Same thing.”

”It is most certainly not the same thing.”

”To a thirteen-year-old, what’s the difference between eighty and ninety? You’re ancient either way.”

Adom’s lips quirked upward. ”When you’ve lived through eight decades, you develop a certain appreciation for ten-year increments.”

”I bet,” Sam muttered. ”Do you ever miss it? Being old, I mean.”

Adom considered this for a moment. He flexed his hand, watching the smooth movement of tendons beneath young skin. ”No.” He finally said. ”I was sick for most of my life. Depressive every time. This is... better. Much better.”

Sam nodded, his previous anxiety momentarily forgotten. ”I still can’t imagine what it must be like. Having all those memories crammed into a teenager’s brain.”

”Crowded,” Adom said dryly.

They walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes. The Diplomatic Quarter was quieter than the rest of the city, the streets wider, the buildings set farther apart. Guards in ceremonial uniforms stood at various intersections, ensuring the security of the foreign dignitaries who called this area home.

”There it is,” Sam said suddenly, pointing ahead. ”The red stone archway.”

The building was smaller than Adom had expected—elegant rather than imposing. Two stories of pale sandstone with numerous windows, the architecture combining elements of traditional Tirajin design with local styles. The red stone archway marked the entrance to a small courtyard, where several exotic plants bloomed in ceramic pots.

Sam took a deep breath. ”Okay. I’m ready.”

”Are you sure?” Adom asked. ”Because you’ve fixed your hair seventeen times since we left the academy.”

”Eighteen,” Sam corrected, running his fingers through it one final time.

Adom shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips. ”Come on. We shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

They reached the threshold of the courtyard, where a Tirajin attendant in formal attire stood waiting.

”The Lady Naia is expecting you,” the attendant said with a slight bow. ”Please, follow me.”

Sam shot Adom one last nervous glance.

Adom nodded encouragingly. ”Just breathe,” he whispered. ”And remember—”

”Stars shine in silence,” Sam finished, rolling his eyes. ”Got it, grandpa.”

The attendant led them through the red stone archway into what appeared to be a modest courtyard at first glance. But as they stepped fully inside, the space seemed to unfold before them.

”What the...” Sam whispered.

Where there should have been just a small enclosed space bounded by the residence walls, there stretched instead an enormous garden that extended far beyond what the building’s exterior dimensions should allow. Terraced flower beds descended in elegant curves. Fruit trees heavy with unfamiliar produce lined winding paths. A stream somehow flowed through the middle, crossed by three small bridges of different designs.

”Dimensional folding,” Adom noted, recognizing the magic immediately. ”Impressive work.”

”Oh yes,” their guide confirmed with evident pride. ”The Ambassador brought our finest spatial architects when the family relocated here. The garden is approximately six acres, though from outside, as you saw...”

”It looks maybe twenty feet across,” Sam finished, still staring.

Halflings moved efficiently among the plants, their small forms perfectly suited to tending the delicate flora. One looked up as they passed, tipping his wide-brimmed hat with a friendly smile.

”Good day to you, young masters!” he called.

Sam waved back awkwardly. Zuni chirped a greeting of his own.

Their guide gestured toward a distant figure near a gazebo. ”Lady Naia awaits you there. Allow me to take your gifts and properly present them.”

Sam clutched his package a bit tighter. ”Is that how it’s done here?”

”It is customary, yes,” the guide replied. ”But if you prefer to present them personally, that is also acceptable.”

”No, that’s fine,” Sam said, reluctantly handing over the package. ”We just didn’t want to do anything wrong.”

The guide accepted the gifts with a small bow. ”You need not worry, young sir. The Lady Naia specifically mentioned you are friends, not official visitors. The protocols are much relaxed.”

Adom passed his contribution as well. ”Thank you, Verron.”

”My pleasure, Master Sylla.” Adom raised an eyebrow slightly, curious that Verron knew his name without introduction. Naia must have described them in detail, including who was who. ”Now, please proceed down the central path. I shall follow momentarily after ensuring these are properly arranged.”

As they walked down the path, Sam leaned toward Adom. ”How did you know his name? He never introduced himself.”

”Name tag,” Adom replied. ”Small pin on his collar.”

”Oh.”

In the distance, the figure by the gazebo noticed their approach. A hand raised in greeting, and the person began walking toward them. As she drew closer, Adom recognized Naia’s features.

”She’s coming to meet us,” Sam observed, smoothing his shirt one final time.

”So she is.”

What caught Adom’s attention, however, were the other figures visible near the gazebo. He recognized several of them even from this distance—the distinctive silvery hair of Mia, the proud posture of the Dimitri siblings, and the unmistakable golden-blond locks of the Lightbringer family.

”Sam,” he said quietly. ”We’re not the only guests.”

Sam followed his gaze. ”Is that... Damus? And the Dimitris?” His shoulders tensed. ”You didn’t mention other people would be here.”

”I didn’t know,” Adom replied, keeping his expression neutral despite his own surprise.

Naia was dressed differently than she appeared at the academy. Gone was the practical uniform, replaced by flowing garments in deep blues and purples that complemented her skin. Gold accents caught the sunlight as she moved, and her tail, usually kept close to her body at school, now swung freely behind her.

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”You came!” she called as she drew closer, her fanged smile bright. ”I was just about to wait by the entrance for you.”

”We’re not late, are we?” Sam asked quickly.

Naia laughed. ”Quite the opposite. You’re early by about five minutes. Eager, aren’t you?”

Verron appeared beside them, having caught up with silent efficiency. He presented the gifts to Naia with a formal gesture.

”Mirrasan Highland tea and Gerri’s sweet pastries,” Naia said, examining them with evident approval. ”You have excellent taste.”

”You recognize them?” Adom asked, slightly impressed.

”Of course. My mother adores this particular blend—says it reminds her of home, though I can’t imagine how. And my father has developed quite the weakness for Gerri’s confections since we arrived.” She accepted the packages from Verron with a nod of thanks. ”These will be very well received.”

Sam exhaled audibly, some tension leaving his shoulders. Then his eyes drifted back to the distant gazebo. ”I didn’t realize this was a... larger gathering.”

Naia followed his gaze and her expression shifted to one of slight embarrassment. ”Ah. I see you’ve noticed our other guests.” She flicked her tail in what seemed like mild annoyance. ”My father invited them. The Lightbringers and the Dimitris are old diplomatic connections, and the Vorsens are new allies.”

Adom and Sam exchanged glances.

”Is that a problem?” Naia asked, noticing their reaction. ”Do you have bad blood with them?”

”Not exactly,” Sam said, hedging.

”Not anymore,” Adom clarified. ”Though things with Damus are... complicated.”

Naia’s tail drooped slightly. ”I’m sorry. I should have mentioned it. My father tends to blur the lines between friendly visits and networking opportunities. He says relationships are the true foundation of diplomacy.”

Zuni chirped from Adom’s shoulder, leaning forward to get a better look at Naia. She smiled at the quillick, momentarily distracted.

”Hello to you too,” she said, extending a finger toward him. Zuni sniffed it cautiously, then chirped again. ”Would you like some nuts? We have a special variety I think you might enjoy.”

Zuni’s quills perked up.

”That’s a yes,” Adom translated, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. ”He’s not picky about food.”

”I really am sorry about the surprise guests,” Naia continued as they resumed walking toward the gazebo. ”If it helps, this isn’t an official function—just lunch and conversation. No politics, my father promised.”

”It’s fine,” Adom assured her, though he wasn’t entirely convinced himself. ”We can be civil.”

”Absolutely,” Sam agreed with forced enthusiasm. ”Completely civil. Fully capable of sharing space without incident.”

Naia glanced between them, her expression skeptical. ”That doesn’t sound reassuring at all.”

”We’ll be on our best behavior,” Adom promised. ”Won’t we, Sam?”

”Of course,” Sam nodded.

Naia’s laugh was surprisingly warm. ”You know, I’m starting to think this lunch might be more interesting than I anticipated.” She gestured toward the gazebo. ”Shall we? The sooner we get the awkward greetings over with, the sooner we can enjoy the food.”

As they approached the gazebo, a tall man with golden hair streaked with silver broke away from his conversation and strode toward them. Even before he opened his mouth, Adom recognized Duke Jasper Lightbringer by his confident gait and the distinctive family crest on his elaborate waistcoat.

”Adom!” Duke Jasper boomed, his voice carrying across the garden. ”Look at you!”

He swept forward, clasping Adom’s shoulder with a firm grip. Zuni bristled at the sudden movement, quills rising defensively before settling again.

”Last time I saw you, you barely reached my elbow,” Jasper continued, measuring an imaginary height with his hand. ”And now look! Another growth spurt and you’ll be taller than my Damus!”

He laughed heartily, turning to gesture toward his son who stood a few paces behind, watching the interaction with a carefully neutral expression that didn’t quite hide his annoyance.

”Wouldn’t that be something?” Jasper continued, oblivious to his son’s discomfort. ”Arthur and I used to compete in everything when we were cadets. Seems our sons might carry on the tradition!”

Adom offered a polite smile. ”It’s good to see you, Duke Lightbringer.”

”None of that ’Duke’ business here, my boy. Your father and I are practically brothers. It’s Uncle Jasper to you.”

Behind him, Damus approached. His golden hair was perfectly styled, his clothing impeccable. He extended a hand to Adom.

”Adom,” he said flatly.

He no longer has acne. Did he heed my advice? Huh.

”Damus,” Adom replied, accepting the handshake.

”And you must be Sam!” Jasper pivoted, wringing Sam’s hand enthusiastically. ”I’ve heard all about you from Adom’s father. Brilliant with magic, he says. We must get you and Damus to demonstrate something later—he’s quite adept with fire himself, you know.”

”That sounds... great,” Sam managed, casting a quick glance at Adom.

”Ah! The Dimitris are coming over,” Jasper observed, looking past them.

Karion led his sisters across the garden, followed by an elegant woman whose resemblance to the four siblings was unmistakable—the same piercing green eyes, the same graceful bearing. Lady Dimitri wore her sandy hair pinned up in an elaborate style, modest jewelry catching the sunlight as she moved.

”Adom!” Karion called, breaking from formal protocol to clap him on the back. ”Didn’t expect to see you here!”

”Likewise,” Adom replied, genuinely pleased to see the Dimitri siblings despite the surprise. ”Hello Lina, Mira, Sera.”

The three girls offered varying greetings—Lina’s enthusiastic, Mira’s casual, and Sera’s so quiet it was almost imperceptible.

”Mother,” Karion turned, gesturing to Adom and Sam, ”may I present Adom Sylla and Sam Harbinsky? The ones I told you about from the exam.”

Lady Dimitri stepped forward, extending her hand. ”A pleasure to finally meet you, Adom. Karion speaks highly of your combat abilities.” Her gaze lingered briefly on his white streak of hair. ”And of your unusual experiences.”

”The pleasure is mine, Lady Dimitri,” Adom replied, taking her hand briefly.

”Sam,” Lady Dimitri nodded to him next. ”I understand you’re quite talented with magic.”

Sam straightened immediately. ”Yes, ma’am. Lightning affinity, primarily.”

”A powerful element,” she observed. ”Difficult to control, but devastating when mastered.”

”That’s what I like about it,” Sam admitted.

A soft voice called from nearby. ”Adom, Sam—hello!”

Mia Storm approached, her silver-blonde hair pulled back in a simple braid. Unlike the others, she wore practical clothing—a fitted tunic and pants rather than fancier attire. Behind her followed two adults who shared her coloring but none of her relaxed demeanor. Lord and Lady Storm observed the gathering with careful, calculating expressions.

”Mia,” Adom greeted her with a smile. ”I didn’t know you’d be here either.”

”Father’s idea,” she said, lowering her voice. ”Something about ’maintaining connections with the right families.’” She rolled her eyes slightly. ”Though I’m not complaining now that I see friendly faces.”

Zuni chirped from Adom’s shoulder, drawing Mia’s attention.

”And hello to you too, Zuni,” she said, carefully offering her finger. The quillick sniffed it, then chirped again approvingly.

A hush fell over the gathering as three new figures emerged from the main residence. Even the breeze seemed to quiet itself.

”Ah, here they are at last,” Jasper Lightbringer murmured to no one in particular.

The man in the lead was instantly recognizable as Tirajin nobility—deep red skin, sleek horns curving back from his temples, and clothing that managed to look both foreign and perfectly appropriate for the setting. Behind him walked a woman of the same species. The third figure, a younger man who walked with easy confidence, looked like a perfect blend of the two.

”My sincerest apologies for our tardiness,” the man announced, his voice carrying without seeming to raise it. ”A letter from the homeland that could not be delayed.”

Naia stepped forward. ”Allow me to present my father, Ambassador Rajan Lazarai; my mother, Lady Soraya Lazarai; and my brother, Kaiden Lazarai.”

Formal greetings rippled through the assembly. The ambassador moved from guest to guest, exchanging pleasantries that somehow managed to feel genuine despite their ritual nature. Lady Soraya followed, her comments briefer but no less warm.

When they reached Adom and Sam, Naia’s smile brightened. ”Father, Mother—these are my friends from the academy. Adom Sylla and Sam Harbinsky.”

”Ah!” Ambassador Lazarai’s eyes lit up. ”The famous Adom Sylla. My daughter speaks highly of your combat prowess.”

He clasped Adom’s hand firmly, nothing in his grip suggesting anything but friendly welcome.

”And Sam Harbinsky,” Lady Soraya said with a polite nod. ”A pleasure to meet any friend of Naia’s.”

Sam bowed slightly. ”The honor is mine, Lady Lazarai.”

Kaiden had hung back, observing. Now he stepped forward, his eyes fixed on Adom.

”So this is the one who defeated my sister on her first day,” he said, his voice lighter than his father’s but with the same underlying strength.

He extended his hand to Adom. His smile was perfectly friendly, almost charming.

Adom took the offered hand.

The moment their palms connected, Adom felt it—a subtle but unmistakable pressure. Fluid pulsed against his skin, probing, testing.

Kaiden’s smile didn’t flicker, but his eyes narrowed slightly in surprise when his pressure met resistance.

”Naia mentioned you were fast,” Kaiden continued conversationally, as if they weren’t engaged in an impromptu contest of strength. ”And that you hardly used magic at all.”

Adom matched the pressure with his own. Not pushing back, just... holding firm.

”I was lucky,” he replied, his voice casual despite the fact that his hand was now containing enough force to bend steel.

Kaiden’s smile widened a fraction. The pressure increased. ”My sister has been training in combat since she could walk. Luck seems an insufficient explanation.”

Around them, the social chatter continued. No one seemed to notice the silent duel happening between their clasped hands. Even Sam, standing beside Adom, only glanced at them curiously.

The pressure from Kaiden’s hand now felt like a vise. Adom could sense the Fluid flowing through the Tirajin’s muscles, enhancing them beyond normal capability.

He matched it.

Kaiden’s expression shifted from mild interest to surprise, then to something that looked suspiciously like... delight?

Is he another weirdo like Helios?

”To call it luck,” Kaiden said quietly, ”would be insulting to both you and my sister.”

”It was a good match,” Adom conceded. ”She’s formidable.”

”She is.” Kaiden’s grip adjusted slightly. Not harder, but somehow more focused. ”Though I wonder how formidable you truly are.”

For a heartbeat, the pressure increased beyond what Adom had anticipated. He felt his fingers start to give ground—just barely, just a millimeter.

Then he countered.

They reached equilibrium again, neither gaining nor yielding.

”Fascinating,” Kaiden breathed.

Ambassador Lazarai’s voice interrupted their silent contest. ”I understand House Sylla has recently established the Wangara Merchant Guild. A bold venture.”

”Indeed,” Jasper Lightbringer said. ”The Lightbringer House was proud to be among the early backers. Adom’s father has a remarkable vision for expanding trade routes to the southern territories.”

The pressure from Kaiden’s hand eased slightly as he listened.

”Trade creates bonds where diplomacy often fails,” Ambassador Lazarai observed. ”We’ve been following the guild’s progress with great interest.”

Kaiden released Adom’s hand. The transition from crushing pressure to nothing was so abrupt that Adom almost stumbled.

He’s definitely Star Knight level.

”We should continue this conversation another time,” Kaiden said with warmth.

Adom flexed his fingers subtly, ensuring they still worked properly. ”I’d like that.”

”The Wangara Guild is already showing promise,” Duke Jasper continued, addressing Ambassador Lazarai . ”Their first caravan returned with a thirty percent higher yield than projected.”

”Impressive,” Ambassador Lazarai nodded. ”Perhaps we might discuss potential Tirajin involvement in future expeditions.”

As the adults continued their conversation, Naia moved among the younger guests, exchanging brief words with the Dimitri siblings. Lina gestured animatedly as she spoke, while Sera observed from half a step behind her more outgoing sister. Karion laughed at something Naia said, the sound carrying across the garden.

Mia joined them, saying something that made Naia’s tail swish in what appeared to be amusement. Even Damus approached the group, though he maintained a careful distance from Adom.

From across the gathering, Ambassador Lazarai’s voice cut through the various conversations.

”Friends, shall we proceed to the pavilion? The chef has prepared a meal that I’m told combines the best of our world’s cuisines.”

As everyone began moving toward the dining area, Naia appeared at Adom’s side.

”What did my brother say to you?” she asked, her tone somewhere between concerned and suspicious.

”Nothing much,” Adom replied. ”Just getting acquainted.”

”Then why do you both look like you’ve been arm wrestling with a bear?”

Sam glanced between them. ”Wait, what did I miss?”

Adom shook his head. ”Just a friendly handshake.”

Naia’s tail flicked. ”Kaiden doesn’t do ’friendly’ anything. Be careful around him.”

”Why?” Sam asked. ”Is he dangerous?”

Naia’s eyes followed her brother’s retreating form. ”Not exactly. But when Kaiden finds something interesting, he tends to... experiment until he fully understands it.”

”And that’s bad because...?” Sam prompted.

”Because,” Naia said quietly, ”his experiments often end with something breaking.”

Adom flexed his hand again, feeling the ghost of that crushing pressure. ”Noted.”

Ambassador Lazarai’s voice called out again, more insistent this time. ”Come, honored guests! The food awaits!”