The first year of Seiya's life in Yuusuatouri was marked by wonder and concern in equal measure.
While most infants of the Satori family's noble lineage would have been expected to display some magical affinity by their third month—perhaps a small flicker of elemental energy or empathic resonance with the natural world—Seiya exhibited nothing but the constant, pulsing light of his birthmark.
"Could it be that the Origin Light is so potent that it suppresses his other abilities?" Sadao wondered aloud one evening, watching as five-month-old Seiya played with a set of crystal blocks that changed color in response to magical energy.
The blocks remained stubbornly clear in Seiya's hands, while they had glowed with vibrant hues for other children.
Yume shook her head, lifting Seiya into her arms as he reached for her. "Elder Mitsuki says it's not suppression but concentration. All his potential is channeled into the Origin Light alone—pure, unfiltered creation magic."
"But such specialization is unprecedented," Sadao frowned.
"Even among the ancient Legends, there was always a balance of elemental affinities."
"Our son is unprecedented," Yume replied simply, smiling as Shin's tiny fingers explored the embroidered constellation on her robe. The threads glimmered faintly at his touch, responding to some power they could not yet understand.
Unlike his previous life's fragility, Shin who was known as Seiya now has a robust and healthy body. He grew quickly, meeting and exceeding the developmental milestones expected of all the Legend's children.
He sat up unassisted at two months, crawled at four, and took his first steps just before his sixth month—physical feats that would have been remarkable even among his extraordinary race.
But it was his cognitive development that truly astonished his parents and the temple attendants. Seiya observed everything with unusual intensity, his mismatched eyes tracking movements and focusing on details that should have been beyond an infant's perception.
He recognized patterns, solved simple puzzles, and seemed to understand conversations long before he could participate in them.
"It's as if he's remembering how to be a person, rather than learning for the first time," observed Kora, a nursemaid assigned to assist with Seiya's care.
The statement was closer to the truth than anyone could have guessed. As Seiya's infant brain developed, the fragmented memories of Shiratori Shin were gradually integrated into his new consciousness.
They came not as coherent recollections but as intuitive knowledge—awareness of concepts and experiences that should have been beyond his reach.
By his first birthday, Seiya could walk confidently, had a vocabulary of over fifty words in the common tongue of a language that Legends used called 'Legend's Latin', and had begun to experiment with the power that pulsed within him.
The celebration of Shin's first year was held in the Temple gardens, where the crystalline flora responded to his presence by blooming out of season, their petals opening to reveal centers that glowed with the same golden light as his birthmark.
Distinguished guests from across the realm had come to pay respects to the child who bore the Mark of the Origin Light—nobles, scholars, and mystics alike gathered to witness the traditional First Light Ceremony.
Yume had dressed Seiya in ceremonial robes of white and gold, the fabric woven with enchantments of protection and blessing.
A small circlet of golden rested on his gold-yellow hair, set with a single clear crystal at the center.
"Soon we will know the full nature of your gift, my little light," she whispered as she adjusted his robes one final time before carrying him to the ceremonial circle.
The First Light Ceremony was an ancient tradition. At precisely one year of age, a child of noble birth would be presented with elemental foci—objects that resonated with the fundamental magical energies of Yuusuatouri.
The objects that responded to the child's touch would indicate their innate magical affinities and help guide their future education.
In the center of the garden, seven pedestals were arranged in a circle. Each held an object representing one of the primary magical domain.
A bowl of water for the Flowing Arts, a burning candle for Fire Weaving, a hovering stone for Earth Binding, a feather in perpetual motion for Wind Calling, a miniature lightning bolt contained in crystal for Storm Summoning, a small tree seedling for Life Tending, and a perfect shadow that existed without a source for Void Walking.
Sadao stood at the circle's edge, his voice resonating with power as he began the ceremonial invocation.
"By the light of the twin suns and the glow of the seven moons, we gather to witness the awakening of magical affinity in Seiya Satori, child of our house, bearer of the Mark of Origin Light, heir to the Legacy of the Ancient Legends."
The assembled guests repeated the final phrase: "Heir to the Legacy of the Ancient Legends."
Yume carried Seiya to the center of the circle and gently set him on his feet. Though only a year old, he stood steadily, his mismatched eyes taking in the seven pedestals with unmistakable curiosity.
"Approach that which calls to you, little one," Elder Mitsuki instructed from her place of honor.
"Let the elements recognize their kindred spirit."
For a moment, Seiya remained still, looking from one pedestal to another. Then, with determined steps that seemed too purposeful for a child his age, he began to walk.
The assembled crowd held their breath. Which element would claim the child of prophecy?
Would he show affinity for all seven, as the greatest mages in history had?
Or would he demonstrate a singular powerful connection?
Seiya approached the first pedestal—Water. He reached out a small hand toward the bowl, but before his fingers could touch the liquid, it froze solid, then cracked down the middle, the pieces falling away from each other as if repelled.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
Undeterred, Seiya moved to the Fire pedestal. The candle flame shot upward, then extinguished completely, leaving not even smoke behind.
The pattern continued: the hovering stone fell and shattered at Earth. The feather turned to dust at Wind. The lightning bolt shattered its crystal container at Storm.
The seedling withered at Life. And most disturbing of all, the shadow at Void simply vanished as if it had never existed.
Each rejection was more dramatic than the last, and with each, the mark on Seiya's chest glowed brighter until it was painful to look directly at him.
"What does this mean?" someone whispered loudly enough to be heard.
"No elemental affinity at all?"
Elder Mitsuki rose from her seat, her ancient face grave. "Not rejection," she said, her voice cutting through the whispers. "Transcendence."
As if her words were a signal, Shin raised both hands before him. The mark on his chest pulsed once, twice, and then a beam of pure white light shot from his palms.
Where it touched the ground at the center of the circle, a new pedestal began to form—not of stone or crystal as the others were, but of light given solid form.
Upon this eighth pedestal, a sphere of radiance took shape, swirling with colors no one present had words to describe, containing patterns that suggested infinite complexity.
"The Origin Light," Elder Mitsuki breathed, dropping to her knees in reverence.
"Not merely a mark of blessing, but the power itself."
Around the circle, others began to kneel as well, overcome by the presence of primal magic manifested through a child barely out of infancy.
Seiya tottered over to his creation and placed his small hands on either side of the sphere. As he touched it, the light spread to envelope him completely, lifting him several inches off the ground.
For a brief moment, those closest would later swear they saw not a child hovering there, but a being composed entirely of light, with great wings stretching from his back and multiple sets of eyes that saw in all directions at once.
Then the vision faded, the light retracted, and Seiya was simply a one-year-old child again, sitting in the middle of the circle surrounded by the broken remains of the elemental foci, giggling as if it had all been an amusing game.
Sadao rushed forward to scoop up his son, his face a mixture of awe and concern. Yume joined them, her hands trembling slightly as she touched Seiya's face, reassuring herself that he was unharmed.
"What happened?" she asked, looking to Elder Mitsuki.
"What does this mean for him?"
The Elder approached slowly, her ancient eyes fixed on Seiya with a new respect. "It means, Priestess Yume, that your son will walk a path none have trodden for a thousand years."
"The Origin Light is not merely light as we understand it—it is the primal force of creation itself, the first magic from which all other forms derive."
She reached out a gnarled finger and gently touched Shin's birthmark, which had returned to its normal soft glow.
"He will never wield fire or call storms or heal with life magic. He has only one affinity, but it is the root of all others."
"Will he be limited, then?" Sadao asked, the concern of a father overwhelming the awe of a High Priest.
Elder Mitsuki smiled, an expression rarely seen on her severe face. "Limited? No, High Priest. Specialized beyond our comprehension, yes."
"The ancient texts speak of those who wielded the Origin Light creating islands from nothing, bringing new species into being with a thought, reshaping the very foundations of our world."
She looked around at the broken elemental foci. "The traditional magics reject him because he exists on a more fundamental level of power. It would be like asking a master artist to draw with a child's broken crayon."
Seiya, oblivious to the profound implications of what had just occurred, reached up and patted his father's face with a small hand, leaving a brief tracery of light wherever he touched.
"Da," he said clearly, then pointed to Yume.
"Ma." Then he looked around at the assembled crowd, the broken pedestals, the garden, and the sky above with its twin suns beginning to set, and said a word none present had taught him.
"Home."
In that moment, as the last rays of sunlight caught in Seiya's golden hair and reflected from his gold eyes, Sadao and Yume exchanged a glance of perfect understanding.
Whatever destiny awaited their son, whatever ancient prophecies might claim him, whatever unprecedented power flowed through his small body, they would ensure that he knew love, safety, and the simple joy of belonging.
For Seiya, the child who in another life had known only pain and isolation, that promise of home was more miraculous than any magic.