Chapter 3 – The House That Glows
For the first time in what felt like forever, Thomas felt... safe.
The orphanage wasn't grand, nor was it filled with luxuries. But there was warmth. Laughter. The smell of fresh bread every morning. The sound of Sister Mary humming old lullabies while folding clothes. He was not just another orphan here—he was someone, someone worth caring for.
Each morning began with soft sunlight pouring in through the cracked glass windows. Children stirred and giggled under thick wool blankets. Sister Mary's footsteps echoed gently through the halls as she called them for breakfast.
For Thomas, who had lived two lifetimes, this place oddly felt more like home than anywhere he had ever known.
And yet, his mind was never quiet.
He couldn't help but notice how... strange this world was. It was unlike anything in the medieval land he came from. There, magic was part of life. People lit fires with spells, cooled food with enchanted stones, and walked miles because teleportation required mastery and cost. Here? The world moved without magic—yet it was filled with wonders.
"Why does the ceiling glow?" he once asked, pointing at a plain electric bulb in the hallway.
"That's a lightbulb, dear," Sister Mary smiled as she buttoned Johnny's coat.
"Does it... trap a fire spirit inside?" Thomas asked seriously.
Sister Mary let out a short laugh. "Oh my, our little scientist is at it again." She ruffled his curly hair. "No fire spirits involved, I promise. Just electricity. I'll explain it all when you're older."
"And the cold box?" Thomas pointed at the kitchen fridge, wide-eyed. "It keeps food cold... without frost magic?"
"Electricity again," she said, holding back another giggle. "You're very curious, Thomas."
His mind buzzed. Electricity. A force he couldn't sense, couldn't see, but apparently it powered this entire world. Lamps, stoves, heaters—machines that could clean dishes, suck dust from carpets, and warm up water without a single incantation.
It was like discovering a form of non-magical magic.
Daisy and Johnny often followed him during his curious expeditions. Once, while Thomas crouched under the dining table staring at a socket, Daisy toddled over and poked it with a spoon. Sister Mary screamed, pulled her away, and scolded them all while trying not to laugh.
"You three will give me grey hairs," she said dramatically, though her eyes sparkled with amusement.
Thomas chuckled. Daisy looked at him with round, confused eyes, and said, "Wha' that?" pointing at the socket.
"Power," Thomas replied. "Invisible power."
Johnny, not to be left behind, screamed, "Powa!" and started running in circles.
Sister Mary just sat down on a chair, covering her face with her hands, laughing. "Oh Lord, what am I going to do with you?"
But despite their chaos, the warmth never left. The children fought and laughed, fell and cried, and always ran back to Sister Mary for comfort.
One quiet afternoon, Thomas sat beside her on the window bench.
"Sister Mary?"
"Yes, dear?"
"What is electricity really?"
She smiled, tucking her knitting aside. "It's hard to explain right now. It's a kind of energy. We make it by turning big wheels, or catching lightning in wires."
"Catching lightning?"
"Yes. Safely, of course." She leaned in. "Don't worry. One day, you'll understand everything. For now, it's okay to just ask."
Thomas nodded thoughtfully. "I will learn. I want to understand this world."
Sister Mary placed a gentle hand on his head. "You're a special boy, Thomas. And very, very bright."
He looked out the window. The city stretched beyond, busy and loud. Not like his old world, of stone towers and horses. And yet... full of wonders just the same.
He didn't know what his future held. But here, surrounded by laughter, questions, and warmth—Thomas felt ready to face it.
Even if he had to start from the very beginning.