2nd chance
Mateo
That was the first thing I heard.
It echoed in the darkness, soft and deep, spoken with a warmth I didn't recognize. It stirred something in me, something old and broken and full of pain, that name was Mateo wasn't mine before.
(I asked my brother what his name should be, and he said Mateo).
But now it was the only thing I had
Then I fell asleep
When I woke again, everything was... different. I felt heavier, like gravity had become stronger or maybe I had become weaker.
My head spun, and my limbs moved sluggishly
I blinked slowly and looked down at my hands
They were small
Tiny, delicate, barely capable of making a full fist.
My fingers wiggled in confusion, and that's when I noticed something else, I wasn't in the same world anymore footsteps.
Heavy but slow, like someone cautious not to wake a sleeping animal, i turned my head, straining muscles that felt unused, and saw him.
A tall man he had white hair like winter snow and red eyes that glowed softly in the dim light of the wooden cabin.
His face was kind but tired, worn from years of hardship
He looked at me not with surprise, but with relief
"Mateo," he said again, kneeling beside me. "You're awake."
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Time Skip: Three Years Later
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Time passed like a river, steady and unyielding
The pain from before the terror, the betrayal, the dying was still somewhere inside me, but here, in this quiet place surrounded by forest and fields, it didn't hurt as much.
I learned to smile again
He called himself Riven, my father
He told me stories while we worked the fields, planting seeds and pulling weeds.
He said that the soil responds best to honest hands, that crops grow best when they're cared for like family.
I believed him
The way he talked to the earth, I think the earth listened
We grew carrots, potatoes, wheat, and herbs that smelled of sunlight.
He showed me how to dig without breaking the roots, how to water gently, how to thank the land.
But he didn't just teach me how to farm
He taught me about the gods.
There was once a time, he said, when the divine lived only in the heavens.
But they grew bored, and so they descended down into Gekai, into our world.
They gave up their power, their Arcanum, to live among us.
They formed Familias, guiding and strengthening those who pledged to serve them.
He spoke of Hestia, goddess of hearth and flame. Of Loki, the trickster, of Freya, whose beauty could unravel armies.
Of gods with temples grand and wild, gods who fought and loved and mourned just like people.
"But they're not perfect," he said one evening, as we sat under the stars. "Even gods can be cruel. Even gods can fall."
I remembered another woman then not a goddess, but cruel all the same.
A stepmother with ice in her voice and knives for hands.
He must have seen the shadow pass over me because he reached over and gently ruffled my hair.
"You're safe now, Mateo."
I nodded and i wanted to believe that more than anything
He told me about my mother
Her name was Sahra
She was a cheetah, a beastman with golden eyes, tan furred ears, and incredible speed.
He said she moved like the wind and laughed like thunder.
"You have her smile," he said once.
I didn't know what to do with that, so I just looked down at my hands. Still small, but stronger now
I'd turned three a few weeks ago
"Was she strong?
He nodded, a wistful look in his eyes.
"She was the strongest person I've ever met, she could've been a Level 3 adventurer, maybe more, but she stayed here, with me, with you."
"Why?"
He smiled.
"Because you were worth more than anything Orario had to offer."
Life was simple, but it was good.
We didn't have magic stones or fancy weapons, no dungeon cores or enchanted gear.
Just a small house, a field, a well, and the forest beyond.
Sometimes, when I finished my chores early, I'd wander to the edge of the woods. I'd imagine myself running through them like a cheetah, swift and free.
That part of me, the cheetah blood, he said, came from Sahra too.
The rabbit's blood came from Riven's side.
Not beast blood, but his Familia had been known for their agility.
I was something in between.
Not beastman. Not human.
Just... Mateo.
One day, I asked him if I could learn to hunt.
He hesitated. "You're still young."
"But I want to be strong just like her."
He looked at me for a long time, then he nodded.
The bow was too big for me at first.
He carved a smaller one, taught me to string it, to aim.
My arms ached from holding the drawer, but I didn't complain i liked the way he smiled when I got it right.
We tracked small animals, rabbits mostly.
(I don't know if there are Regular animals in DanMachi, I looked it up and theirs a cat and a horse, so I believe there are regular animals)
He taught me to move quietly, to watch the wind. He told me how each creature had a rhythm, a way it moved when it was calm and when it was afraid.
"You're part of this world," he said once, crouched beside me in the brush. "You're not above it. Never forget that."
That night, he gave me my first knife.
It wasn't fancy.
Just a small blade with a leather-wrapped handle.
But I held it like it was a sword of legend.
"Use it with purpose. Never for cruelty."
I nodded.
I promised.
We didn't talk much about the past. Not mine. Not his.
But sometimes, in the stillness, I'd remember things.
I'd remember the way she struck me, the sound of footsteps on creaking floorboards, the weight of fear in my chest.
And sometimes I'd cry.
Not loudly.
Not like before. But in quiet moments when I thought he was asleep.
And every time, without fail, he would come and sit beside me.
"It's okay to remember," he'd whisper.
"But you're not there anymore, you're here with me."
And I'd lean into him, small hands clutching the edge of his shirt, breathing in the scent of firewood and soil.
And slowly, the shaking would stop.
One day, while planting the spring crop, I asked him if he missed the city.
He paused, staring at the freshly turned soil.
"Sometimes, but only because the dungeon had a purpose, a clear goal, this world... It's messier."
"Do you regret leaving?"
He looked at me then, really looked.
"Not for a second."
I didn't know what the future held. I didn't know if I'd ever go to Orario, if I'd join a Familia, or fight monsters in the Dungeon but I knew this.
I had a second chance.
And this time, I wasn't alone.
I was Mateo. Reborn not in fire or fury, but in quiet soil, beneath a father's gaze, in the memory of a mother who ran like the wind.
And that was enough.
For now.
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This is how Mateo looks like image here
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