Black Clover: Incarnate

Prologue

When her hand drifts towards a regal looking book, she pauses. Their is hesitance in her eyes when the symbol of a three leaf clover on its spine slightly glows. Her breath hitches as she traces the symbol, her fingertips grab the book, but she is reminded and she snaps her arm back as if she was burned.

"Ah..." she gives a shaky breath, closing her eyes tightly before she walks away from the bookshelf and into the kitchen to make herself tea.

She gives a loud sigh as she plots herself down on the roots of an old tree, one that appears hundreds of years old. She leans back her head and she looks up at the canopy above, her ruby eyes are tired and weary. Her eyes then flutter to a close.

She breathes in the fresh air of spring, the frustration that lined her features softens. The sound of chirping birds and their song resonate in the empty forest.

She stays still for a few moments, just relaxing in the fine morning. Her eyes open slightly, half lidded with a certain calm that only occurs after experiencing many things in life. She breathes out, whispering under her breath, "Reincarnation magic huh?"

She has taken care of a boy once when a nearby village was in shambles and his family was in a comatose state when she arrived. She was walking on the deserted path of the anxious village. At every turn, there was a man or a woman or a child that crumbled and gave into their sickness, giving grief to their family. She had come when she had heard their call for aid.

When she had assisted and cured the sick, her endeavors spread to the whole village and soon there were lines forming at her inn. Her stay had lasted for a whole month, but near the end of it, a boy came to her, dressed in dirty and raggedy clothes that appeared like rags just resting on his shoulders. His eyes were bloodshot, his hands were worn and dressed in callouses, his knees were dirtied and ashy, his hair was in knots and tangles, he was distressed.

"M-Miss." he calls out, his lips quivering, and his frail hand tugging on her clothes, his eyes so pained.

She looks down at his small stature, pausing from her walk around the small town. Her eyebrows raise as she takes in his distressed appearance.

"Yes?" She asks, her voice soft like wind chimes from the rolling hills and calming like the soft breeze of the first spring.

"Please," he pleads, "save my family."

She goes at once and she would heal his family for a long period of time.

When the village was once again thriving and the sickness had gone away, she walks out, expecting to just disappear of the grid, but she is stopped by the village. They are bowing down to her, eyes glassy with their tears of appreciation and their shoulders shaking with their cries.

They ask her for her desires, what rewards she could gain, and all she requires of them is to tell no one of her name and existence. She asks for secrecy. They are against it at first but when her eyes soften, and she lowers her head to bow and whispers, please, they reluctantly comply.

They ask her, why do you not want to spread your good deeds around the country?

She only gives them a smile.

But when an elderly woman, whom she helped heal her only son, asks her reasons once more.

She replies, I do not seek fame, what I seek is the peace and good health of the people.

They comply to her requests faithfully even years after the plague.

When time would pass and she rests in the tranquility of the forest, there is a boy who returns.