There are two customs I have every morning.
One is to bow to the morning sun for two beats.
This doesn’t come from some religious custom in my old life. It was something I started here since I turned six.
This is a world where the weak die and death follows you everywhere. You could call it survival of the fittest.
There is no police, and the medical care has developed very little. As custom for a world with swords and magic, monsters come out ordinarily, and thieves aren’t unusual either. A famine could easily come if the weather got worse. Still, taxes were a constant. This was before my time, but I heard that it was once normal to have to sell your own daughter to survive.
Although I have three abilities, this life isn’t smooth sailing. There were once or twice where I thought I would die, and I’ve seen people die six times now in easy and unreasonable ways.
This is a tough place to live. I know this because of memories from my previous life, so I understand. I should be happy I’m alive, it’s a blessing to be alive.
I’m always thankful when I think about this. I want to express it. I want to show that I am alive so that I do not forget about my past life, but live in the present.
“Thank you for our lives and being able to live this day.”
I bow deeply.
By the way, it never fails to rain or storm, but I have no problem because I can freely manipulate barriers.
My second habit is to visit the tomb of Oton.
Father’s tomb is right below the house looking from the front, under the big willow tree.
It is a grave with name of Oton carved into a kamaboko-shaped slate, with a sword stuck in with full force.
Compared to the tombs of my previous life it is a modest thing, but in this life it is a decent hero’s tomb (according to the talks of peddlers and adventurers).
Well, Oton is a hero, so I have no complaints.
Oton was the only exclusive adventurer in the village. He used swords and magic, and had enough ability to even fight equally with an ogre.
However, he couldn’t win against a group of orcs. He was able to drive them off from the village, but he died shortly after from his injuries.
He was a younger man than me in my previous life, so I couldn’t think of him as my father, but he was the one who raised me and protected us. I’m thankful for being alive and hold affection for him. I’d waiver rain or storm to prove that fact.
“I am really happy to be born as Oton’s son.”
I don’t bow, but I show a smile.