Prince Ibram Al'Qahir of Sharmotla

I was reborn into a good life. A son of the sultan of the most beautiful city on the Jade Sea. My mother was a Braskari princess who had made sure that I would not grow up soft and pampered like my brothers and sisters.

My father, Sultan Bub-Jafar Zaral'Qahir-Khan'Qahir-Chad'Takboo, had seven wives and hundreds of official concubines, to say nothing of his thousands of other dalliances that produced offspring. To say that I had been far down the line of succession when I was born was an understatement. So when my mother insisted that I spend time with my grandfather and cousins out on The Prairie, my old man did not object.
The best part of this arrangement is that it got me away from my siblings. Make no mistake, some of my brothers and sisters are great, but only one of us gets to be The Sultan, or Sultana. Though birth order and maternal precedence counts for a lot in determining the line of succession. In the end, Sharmotla is a Haymanan kingdom and its royal crest will pass to the candidate with the highest ranks and appropriate titles.

Now, I know that if you are reading this that the last sentence of that paragraph makes very little sense to you. Bear with me, I will explain in due time. What I want to explain right now is how I know that you do not know.

It all started a few months after my nineteenth birthday.
I was packing my bags, preparing myself to attend The Royal Ashrasha. Having finally come of age. I was to begin my formal training in the noble crafts. I was sorting through old dust covered boxes when I found the leather journal. The book was bound in fine salamander leather with excellent paper. I flipped through the old book and found several things about the text odd.
For starters, the journal was written in a strange language using alien looking characters, yet I had no difficulty deciphering their meaning. I read a few pages and found the contents totally baffling, but when I flipped back to the beginning and read the entry, everything made sense.

Journal of Makoto Sato
It has been four years since I reincarnated. I can already start to feel my old life slip away. It is hard to remember who I was, so while I still have the memories in my head. I am going to commit them to paper. I was reincarnated with a cheat ability from a planet called Earth. In my last life, I was a software engineer who worked on making video games in a city called...

It all came back to me, or some of it. Memories of being a little kid intent on writing in my special book. The Sultan thought it was charming. My mother, well she respected how hard I fought to protect my book when she tried to take it away from me. I remembered how angry I was when she told me that I could not take it with me to go ranging on The Prairie. But I had forgotten about it by the time I had returned the following winter.

Now that I was reading through the pages, it was coming back to me. I had believed, really believed, that I had lived a full life in another world. A place called Earth. I had been so worried about forgetting my previous life as I got older that I wrote down everything I could remember in the language that only I could read.

As I realized that it was all real and that I really had been able to remember my past life when I was little, I got a ping from my crest <Title unlocked: Isekai-Djinn. New Rank achieved Isekai:Lvl-1.>