The Genius Mage Was Reincarnated Into A Swordsman Family

The interior of The Silver Crown embraced Klaus like a warm hug after a long, cold journey. Rich oak beams supported the ceiling, their surfaces darkened with age and countless stories absorbed over decades of service. Soft lamplight cast dancing shadows across walls decorated with local artwork and cheerful tapestries that spoke to community pride rather than expensive taste.

The atmosphere buzzed with comfortable energy—not the frantic revelry of establishments catering to nobility, but the steady contentment of working people enjoying well-earned relaxation. Merchants shared tales of successful trades, craftsmen debated techniques over ale, and couples found quiet corners for intimate conversation. The air carried scents of hearty food, quality beer, and the indefinable essence of a place where people felt truly at home.

"Dad, we've got a guest who could use some hospitality," Samantha called toward the bar as she guided Klaus through the main room.

A robust man with graying hair and arms like tree trunks looked up from polishing glasses, his weathered face breaking into smile that suggested genuine pleasure at welcoming strangers. His eyes held shrewdness that came from years of reading people, yet warmth that spoke to fundamental decency.

"Any friend of Sam's is welcome here," he declared with voice that carried natural authority. "I'm Marcus, owner of this establishment and father of the girl who probably talked your ear off before dragging you inside."

"Guilty as charged," Samantha admitted cheerfully. "This is Arkadius, and he's had what appears to be a very interesting evening."

Marcus studied Klaus with practiced assessment that took in noble bearing, quality clothing, and evidence of recent adventure without making obvious display of his evaluation. Whatever conclusions he reached seemed to satisfy him, as his expression remained welcoming rather than suspicious.

"Well then, Arkadius, what can we do to make your evening improve? Food, drink, or perhaps just somewhere to sit that doesn't involve whatever excitement you've been having?"

Klaus found himself genuinely smiling for first time in hours. The straightforward kindness, offered without expectation or calculation, struck him as precious beyond measure. "Somewhere to sit sounds perfect. And perhaps something warm to drink that won't cloud my judgment further than it already is."

"Sam, get our guest some of your mother's special tea," Marcus instructed. "That'll warm him up and clear his head without making anything worse."

Samantha nodded and disappeared through doorway behind bar, leaving Klaus with her father who continued polishing glasses with practiced efficiency. The silence between them was comfortable rather than awkward, suggesting Marcus understood when conversation was wanted versus when quiet presence was sufficient.

"You can wait here or follow her," Marcus offered. "She's probably going to insist on finding you something clean to wear anyway. Girl's got heart bigger than the capital when it comes to helping people, though don't tell her I said that—she likes to pretend she's tougher than she is."

Klaus chose to follow, curious about the family dynamic and drawn by promise of clothing that wouldn't advertise his recent adventures. A narrow staircase led to living quarters above tavern, where Samantha was already rummaging through chest of clothes with determined efficiency.

"These should fit," she announced, holding up simple brown trousers and cream-colored shirt. "They belonged to my older brother before he joined merchant marine. Might be slightly loose, but better than wearing battle damage."

She gestured toward small changing area screened by curtain. "Privacy's over there. I'll get your tea ready while you change."

Klaus accepted clothing with gratitude that surprised him with its sincerity. The garments were well-made despite their simplicity, showing care in both construction and maintenance. When he emerged wearing Samantha's brother's clothes, he discovered she'd been right about the fit—slightly loose but comfortable, and infinitely preferable to damaged noble attire.

"Much better," Samantha approved, studying him with satisfaction. "You still look like nobility trying to dress down, but at least you don't look like you've been in a fight anymore."

She handed him steaming mug that smelled of herbs and spices he couldn't immediately identify. The first sip revealed complex blend that warmed without overwhelming, clearing mental fog he hadn't realized was affecting his thoughts.

"Your mother's recipe?" he asked, settling into comfortable chair she indicated.

"Grandmother's, actually. Passed down through three generations of women who knew how to take care of people." Samantha curled into opposite chair with own mug, studying him with curiosity that managed to be interested without being intrusive. "So, Arkadius—interesting name. Not exactly common around here."

"Family tradition," Klaus replied with partial truth. "We tend toward unusual choices."

"Fair enough. I won't pry into family business." She sipped her tea thoughtfully. "Though I will say you don't seem like most nobles who find their way here. Usually they're either slumming for adventure or looking down their noses at everything. You just seem... tired."

Her perceptiveness continued to surprise him. Where others might see mysterious stranger requiring careful handling, she recognized exhaustion that went beyond physical fatigue. The simple acknowledgment of his state felt more therapeutic than elaborate treatments he'd received at court.

"It's been a challenging day," he admitted. "Though this is the first truly pleasant part of it."

"Good tea will do that," Samantha said with grin. "Along with clean clothes and somewhere comfortable to sit. Amazing how much difference basic comforts can make when everything else is complicated."

They descended to main tavern, where Klaus discovered himself welcomed as naturally as any regular patron. Marcus had apparently spread word that their guest deserved friendly treatment, resulting in casual nods and warm smiles from other customers. No one pressed for details about his background or recent adventures—they simply accepted his presence as addition to evening's community.

The tea's effects became more apparent as Klaus relaxed into atmosphere of uncomplicated human fellowship. Mental clarity improved while emotional tension decreased, allowing him to appreciate simple pleasures that cosmic responsibilities had made him forget existed.

Samantha proved excellent company, entertaining him with stories about tavern life and capital gossip that revealed sharp wit and generous heart. She could make mundane encounters sound amusing without being cruel, find humor in daily challenges without becoming cynical, and draw people into conversation without making them feel manipulated.

"See those two in corner?" she said discreetly, indicating couple sharing intimate conversation over wine. "They've been courting for three years, but he's too nervous to propose and she's too polite to push. Every week they come here, every week they get closer to actually talking about future, and every week they leave without resolving anything."

"Perhaps they enjoy the anticipation more than certainty," Klaus suggested. "Some things become less precious once they're definitely possessed."

"Maybe. Or maybe they're both just scared of changing something that already works." She looked at him thoughtfully. "You sound like someone who's had to make difficult decisions about changing versus staying the same."

Klaus paused, considering how much honesty the moment could bear. "Recent events have forced several such choices. I'm still determining whether the results justify the decisions."

"That's life, isn't it? We make choices with incomplete information, then spend time figuring out if we chose correctly." Samantha's expression grew more serious without losing warmth. "Though from where I sit, you seem like someone who takes responsibility seriously. That's rarer than you might think."

As evening progressed, other patrons began showing effects of sustained drinking. Conversations grew louder and less coherent, laughter became more frequent and less discriminating, and general atmosphere shifted toward cheerful intoxication that marked successful night of community bonding.

Klaus remained completely unaffected by alcohol—whether due to transformation or conscious control, drinks that left others increasingly merry had no impact on his clarity or coordination. Yet rather than feeling excluded, he found satisfaction in observing human nature at its most relaxed and genuine.

"You're either the most controlled person I've ever met, or you've got metabolism that processes alcohol like water," Samantha observed after watching him nurse same beer for over an hour while remaining completely sober.

"Probably combination of both," Klaus replied honestly. "Though I'm finding that watching everyone else enjoy themselves is entertainment enough."

"Fair point. Sometimes being observer is more interesting than being participant." She studied him with expression that suggested new level of curiosity. "You're not quite what you seem, are you, Arkadius?"

The question carried weight that went beyond casual inquiry, yet Klaus detected no threat or suspicion in her tone. If anything, she seemed intrigued by mystery rather than concerned about potential danger.

"Few people are exactly what they seem," he replied carefully. "Though I hope what you've observed tonight is reasonably accurate representation of who I am when I'm allowed to be myself."

"Then you're someone worth knowing better," Samantha said with smile that held promise of friendship and perhaps something more. "Most people wear masks so thick you never see anything real underneath. You just wear different masks for different situations—and right now, you're letting me see one that's actually honest."

As night wore on and patrons gradually departed for their homes, Klaus found himself reluctant to leave atmosphere that had provided such unexpected comfort. Yet dawn approached with inexorable certainty, and responsibilities awaited that could no longer be postponed.

"I should return home," he said finally, rising from chair that had become unexpectedly precious through hours of simple human company. "My family will be concerned about my absence."

"Of course they will," Samantha agreed, though disappointment flickered briefly across her features. "Important people have important responsibilities."

"Thank you for this," Klaus said, encompassing evening's kindness with gesture that couldn't adequately express his gratitude. "I needed to remember that good things exist without requiring struggle to obtain them."

"Any time," Samantha replied with warmth that suggested genuine offer rather than polite dismissal. "The Silver Crown is always here, and so am I. Door's always open for friends."

Klaus donned his own clothes, cleaned and repaired with efficiency that spoke to practiced hospitality, then prepared to step back into world where cosmic forces demanded decisions that would reshape existence itself.

Yet he carried with him memory of evening when simple human kindness had proven more valuable than transcendent power, and knowledge that sanctuary existed where he could remember who he chose to be rather than who circumstances demanded he become.