The Green Legend

The capital city of Jorasia, a bustling hub of magic and knights, glimmered under the morning sun. Yet, miles away, in an isolated village nestled among high, emerald hills, a lone figure sat under an ancient tree.

Gren, a boy whose lime green hair and eyes were as unusual as his quiet intensity, sat with his eyes closed, seemingly at peace. He was seven years old, a child by the world's measure, but a soul far older.

He had been here before, not in this body, but in a life defined by equations and the cold logic of physics. Now, a ball of green lightning, small and controlled, danced in his palm, a testament to a power he shouldn't possess without a magic circle.

His sister, Marie, a shy wisp of a girl, approached him softly. "Brother... what are you doing?" she whispered, her voice barely disturbing the serene air.

Gren opened his eyes, the green within them seeming to hold ancient secrets. "Oh, Marie, it's you. Just thinking of something."

Marie pointed. "You are crying. What are you thinking?"

Gren touched his cheek, a lone tear tracing a path. "Oh, it was nothing. Don't worry about it." He wiped it away, the ghost of a past life's regret fading with it. The call of their mother, distant but firm, drifted through the morning air. "Gren, Marie, it's getting late!"

He stood, the green lightning vanishing. "Let's go," he said, a new adventure, a new life, already beckoning.