Raegan was in awe watching his neighbour tiger beast solve complex mathematics on a holographic tablet while his aunt tiger beast women debated philosophy with the house system really drove home that he wasn't on Earth. Or even his own dimension.
"This isn't my world, I have understood that much, talking animals with intelligence and these machines with consciousness, they call this world "planet Mahara654", why was I transported to this realm? Maybe Rudra Vyuh wanted me to achieve some sort of a goal in this realm. I need to learn more about this world and how to get back to my realm before she is reincarnated again." The thought of her brought tears to his baby eyes, which turned into a toddler's cry.
Age 3-4:
By age three, Reagan had mastered the art of appearing ordinary - well, as ordinary as a white-haired, red-eyed toddler could be. While other children struggled with their first words, his challenge was pretending to learn them gradually. His real difficulty lay in controlling the surges of mana that came with strong emotions.
"In my past life, it took decades to master chakra flow," he thought during another meditation session. "Now I have to deal with both demon mana AND werewolf energy throwing tantrums along with my toddler body. Splendid."
Chen noticed how her son would sit quietly for hours, something no normal three-year-old did. She'd find him in the garden, eyes closed, surrounded by swirling patterns of multi-colored mana that he quickly dispersed when she approached. She kept detailed journals of his development, noting how flowers bloomed more vibrantly near where he played, and how small animals seemed drawn to his presence.
One autumn morning, while Chen treated a farmer's broken arm, Reagan had his first major test of control. A group of royal scouts passed through Mistpine, questioning villagers about unusual children. Reagan sat in the corner of Chen's clinic, apparently absorbed in wooden blocks, while internally, his ancient warrior's instincts screamed to fight.
"Calm down," he told himself as his demon core pulsed with defensive energy. "You're supposed to be a toddler. Toddlers don't unleash centuries of combat experience on nosy scouts. No matter how satisfying it would be."
"Never seen no demon child," the farmer was saying. "Though we did have a strange grass demon in Old Man Wei's cabbage patch last night!"
The scouts eventually left, but that evening, Chen found Reagan in his room, surrounded by floating toys as his mana leaked out with stress.
"Reagan," she said softly, her healer's instincts sensing the turbulent energies within him. "Would you like to hear a story about how I once escaped from an entire troop of mountain bandits?"
"She knows I'm different," Reagan realized. "She's known all along, and she's still protecting me, why is she hiding me, and what am I?" The toys settled gently to the floor as he crawled into her lap, his ancient mind appreciating her tactical genius, calming his powers by appealing to his warrior's interest in battle stories.
That night marked a turning point. Chen began weaving training exercises into their daily routine, disguising them as games. "Let's see who can stack blocks using only their mana," she'd suggest, or "Today we're playing 'Heal the Teddy Bear.'" She never pressed him about his unusual abilities, but she gave him the tools to control them.
"She's training me like a seasoned warrior," Reagan thought proudly during one such session. "Sasht may have centuries of vampire powers, but he never had someone like Chen teaching him finesse."
The villagers of Mistpine slowly grew used to the odd lights and sounds from the healer's cottage. They whispered about her strange but unfailingly polite child, who seemed to understand medicines and herbs far too well for his age.
What no one suspected was that every night, after Chen tucked him in with a kiss on his forehead, the ancient warrior within Reagan would emerge. He'd lie awake, methodically testing his growing powers, preparing for the day he'd return to his original world. But increasingly, thoughts of vengeance against Sasht shared space with a new priority: protecting the remarkable mana healer who'd given this demon child a chance at a decent childhood.
"Mommy, can I access the infopedia?"
"Sweetheart, most three-year-olds can't even pronounce 'infopedia.'"
"Most three-year-olds haven't spent 5400 years getting repeatedly killed by a guy with a grudge and a thirst for blood," he thought while putting on his best innocent child face.
The infopedia became his favorite pastime. Though the first entry he found about Lord Shiva's alternate dimension counterpart, Avish, gave him a headache:
[God Avish: Destroyer of worlds, Patcher of Reality, Divine System Administrator. Known for merging mana with technology after declaring "manual meditation is so last millennium."]
"Well, that explains a lot. My Lord, Shiva danced Tandav; this one probably does some new types of moves. I'd better learn more about him, maybe I can impress him by dancing for him. No! That sounds so wrong".
Age 5:
Reagan's first day at Mistpine Village School brought back memories of learning warfare in Shivodaya's royal academy. Except this time, instead of sword stances and battle formations, he had to master the art of finger painting and sharing toys.
"At least the politics are similar," he mused, watching children form alliances over candy trades. "Though I don't recall any princess ever throwing a tantrum quite like little Miss Whiskers over there."
His classmates were a diverse group of beast-children - cubs, pups, and kids of various species. His white hair and red eyes drew curious stares, but in a world of talking animal-people, he wasn't as unusual as he might have been. His teacher, Mrs. Maple, a dignified owl-beast with spectacles perched on her beak, took his appearance in stride.
"Children," she announced, "this is Reagan. He's Dr. Chen's boy, and I expect you all to make him feel welcome."
"Right," Reagan thought. "Just try to be normal," as Raegan sat isolated from the other kids, not knowing how to act his age among the beastly kids, a young wolf-girl named Luna approached him during break time. "Your eyes are pretty," she said without preamble. "Like rubies. Want to play chase?"
For a moment, Reagan's ancient warrior instincts assessed her stance, noted her natural agility, and calculated seven different ways to evade pursuit. Then his five-year-old body simply giggled and ran, letting himself enjoy the simple pleasure of being a child.
The real education, however, began after school hours. Chen had converted their cellar into a training room, warded with silencing spells and protection runes.
"Today," she said one evening, her smile with excitement, "we're going to learn about mana control through healing."
"Finally," Reagan thought, "something familiar." But he quickly discovered that healing with demon mana was vastly different from his past life's experiences using chakra.
"Gentle," Chen corrected, watching him attempt to heal a wounded bird. "You're not forging a weapon. Think of your mana as water flowing around stones, not through them."
The bird chirped nervously as Reagan's demon core pulsed with energy. In his previous lives, he channeled Chakra through prayers to Lord Shiva. Now, he had to learn to direct raw demonic power with the precision of a healer.
"How did you know?" he asked one day, after successfully healing his first major injury - a woodcutter's broken leg. "That I was different?"
Chen's smile twitched with amusement. "Reagan, normal babies don't meditate. And they certainly don't try to organize their toy soldiers into battle formations."
They shared a laugh, but Chen's eyes grew serious. "There are rumors from the capital. King Thundra's scouts are searching further into the outlying villages. We need to accelerate your training."
And so Reagan's days fell into a demanding rhythm. Mornings were spent mastering the art of being an ordinary child - learning to play, make friends, and not accidentally reveal his tactical genius during playground games. Afternoons were devoted to healing lessons with Dr Chen, who proved to be as skilled a teacher as she was a healer.
But it was the evenings that truly tested him. Chen began teaching him the advanced techniques she'd learned as an adventurer - how to mask his mana signature, create emergency barriers, and escape pursuit. All skills that, in his past life, he'd learned to counter vampires of Sasht using chakra.
"Remember," Chen would say, "knowledge is your best defense. But knowing when not to show your strength is your best disguise."
"Wise words," Reagan thought, practicing a particularly complex healing seal. "Though I doubt Chen expects me to apply them to hide centuries of reincarnated memories."
As months passed, Reagan found himself excelling in both his lives. At school, he was known as the quiet, kind boy who could always be counted on to help a classmate in need. In the village, he became his mother's unofficial assistant, helping with simple treatments while carefully maintaining the appearance of a gifted but normal child.
But it was during their private training sessions that his true nature emerged. Chen never questioned why her five-year-old son could grasp advanced healing concepts so quickly, or why he sometimes murmured battle strategies in his sleep. She simply taught, guided, and protected, adding her own expertise to his ancient knowledge.
"Perhaps," Raegan reflected one night, watching Chen tend to their herb garden by moonlight, "this childhood isn't just about preparing for world domination. Maybe it's also about learning to heal old wounds - both others' and my own."