Ch 1 - Living
The snow hit hard against my cheek, stealing any heat I had left in me. I looked to my side, blood. I quickly looked away. I couldn't see or believe it; I didn't want to, and it scared me. How could it even be my time? I had so much left to do. I had so much more to give, the world… I could feel it leaving my grasp. Unfortunate. This life. I wonder if anyone would miss me? My friends? Unlikely, Ha... The snow stopped being cold, and my dead, blackened eyes looked at the stars. Was it always this beautiful? My body finally stilled. I don't remember stars in the skies where I lived, just bustling streets and people needing to get to places and people to meet.
Maybe I was too careless. The stars twinkled and shone bright at me; more and more of my consciousness slipped from me. Dying in an alleyway wasn't my idea of an ideal death. I didn't even get to get married, have kids, buy a home, just some run down apartment, and my close friends. I bet my girlfriend is worried about me, wondering where I am. We were gonna watch a movie tonight. God, WHY ME?! On such a beautiful day like this. I didn't even see it coming. The knife, the pain... it all just happened, in a flash. Now I was gonna be another statistic, another face on the TV. I had no energy left in me to be angry. Do ask the question why, and instead, I just looked at the sky.
I wonder why I never wondered at the sky this long, but who would? With a life like this, did I ever get the chance to look? Even before I was a child, did I have an opportunity to just… ah…I feel myself dying. It was a painless feeling, that slippery slope. Like going down a water slide with no running water, the pain begins, and you feel like it will last forever. Still, in the end, it's an inescapable watery black abyss. Memories of my past life shattered like bits, spreading across this plane of nothingness. My first birthday, my first kiss, my first love, my mother, my father, my family.
Tears ran down my face, which was the last thing I felt. A weird memory showed up and played for me. It was when I was a child, just 9, Ha, I looked so ugly as a kid. I leaned forward towards the video, which I was playing on a swing set. Back and forth, back and forth. What an odd memory to play at such a time like this, but there I was, swinging. I looked around with one last look at the speeding life passing me by, the life I once had, and then finally complete and utter darkness. Darkness was all I felt; simultaneously, I felt nothing, a haunting feeling. I thought of screaming, calling out into the void, but how could I with no voice? I wandered there, in that black abyss, for a while. I floated endlessly without shape or mind. No thought came, as I could not think, just nothing, but as soon as I went into thoughtless time, a light called out to me, abruptly and vigorously.
"Teriok Liq in aspon!" A random voice yelled
The light came closer and closer. I felt it! I could feel the warm, wrapping walls of what felt like my tomb, not too long ago, now being set free. The forsakenness of my death now living? The warmth soon escaped me, and I was finally free! The world around me was blurry; I could almost not see anything, and the cold of my past soon rushed at me again. Was I dying again! No, I soon felt someone wrapping me in something soft, like a bushy, silky cloth. I tried to speak, and all I got was,
"Blpphhh"
That was odd, and then I felt the need to cry. So, I did? It felt more like instinct rather than a thought filled action. Then I heard a woman talk in a soothing voice. Her tone was a low rasp, and although she was speaking, I could not understand everything she was saying. Then I heard applause, which seemed to widen my eyes, and soon unblurred them. The first thing I saw was the soothing woman. She had silver hair and silver eyes. A beauty to say, nonetheless, but I could tell, in some shape or form, that I was her son. This is my mother. Looked down at my hands, little knubs that could barely do anything but clench. I was a baby, no doubt.
No, NO, this is all wrong! How could I be in this place if I died and…. And! I cried again. My sobs did not go unheard as the woman, whom I presumed was my mother, talked to me smoothly. All of it was too much, life and death. Some sick god was pranking me, or a death dream of some messed up kind. They do say that the brain is alive for 7 minutes after death… or something like that. I turned my heavy head around to the man standing close to my "mother". He was a tall man. Dark brown hair, almost black, with green eyes. His beard was full and straightened; he wore clothes of nobility. Dark drapes with yellow mixed in to make a clashy military suit. How odd, is there a general of some high status at my birth? Why would he be here?
My thoughts were cut off shortly by the man approaching me, grimacing slightly at my feeble cries, inspecting me as if I were some sword or broken shield. He hovered his hand over my head, and soon I felt a soft glow. His black leather glove grazed my forehead, and the glow became harsher and harsher until finally it stopped. The man quickly drew his hand back, looking cold and stern. He then said a few insurmountable words under his breath, and to the lady holding me, the lady then responded in a hushed tone. Still, the man abruptly cut her off, glared at the soft spoken lady, and finally left without saying another word. She looked visibly stabbed with sadness and took me closer to her chest. I did not like that man already.
What I had come to understand was that man was my father. Or at least that's what I was guessing, someone had stripped me from my mother, and I was being carried around the halls by a new face. Going through the halls, I could see paintings of what was "my family": The man… the lady, a young girl, and a grown man, and there was an empty spot on the canvas as well. I guess he planned to have me at least. That was the least of my worries, though; a lady suddenly brought me into a new room. Is this my room? Where am I! I looked around, realizing my situation. My room, I'm guessing?
The room was very bare: a crib with a crest featuring swords pushing through the middle, black and yellow colors that shone through, a wooden black chest with yellowish straps, books on the wall in a shelf, and a wardrobe with a mirror. The carpet on my floor was also black. This place seemed so dreary. The new lady brought me down on a chair I had not seen and opened her top with buttons to unclasp. Her chest exposed, she quickly drew me in closely. Wow, there, lady, I don't even know your name yet, but instinct took over again for some reason. My hands grabbed for her chest and her nipple, and then my stomach growled. I didn't notice how hungry I was. I started suckling furiously at her breast, trying to get every last ounce out. She exclaimed cheerily, almost surprised by my vigorous hunger. Then she clapped her boob back into her maid dress and soothed me over into a slumber. This new body needed some getting used to.
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As a newborn child, I mainly had nothing to do; it was boring, to be honest, except for one small factor. The new lady, my maid. She wore a French looking maid outfit, yellow and black, and she seemed to be my new caretaker. From what I could tell, her name was Abby, she fed me, cleaned me, changed me, and talked to me. At night, she'd read me stories about dragons and wars with demons… even if I didn't know half of what she was saying then. Although I was picking up the alphabet through the little booklet she'd read to me. She'd vigorously point to a letter and repeat it to me. I was only a couple of days old… the lady was hoping for a miracle.
The days in my room were still full of doing nothing; living in the early stages wasn't ideal. The instincts of a child struggled strongly against my experienced mind of adulthood. Crying, whining, crapping my damn pants, hunger that felt never satisfied. The only harsh part was that, as a child, I could feel the sadness of my mother being gone. It was a reality that struck me hard, making me feel like an actual child again. I remember when I was back in my old body, my old life, missing my mother. She smelled like apples and toast, a breakfast we often had. Sitting at the table laughing about my day and who I was with, eating apples and toast, apples and toast. My mind wandered, and then a memory came to mind. I had once gone off a trail and was alone in a park. I just sat there and cried, waiting for my mother to come and get me.
I was a dumb child back then. My mother found me eventually, a dirty, filthy mess. She soothed me calmly, telling me everything would be alright. I miss my mother. And what of my new mother as well? I did not know. It confused me that I never got to see her face again. Her soft looking expression and smile screamed love, her eyes shining brightly. The moment I was born would have been the best day in all her life for all I had known. For some reason, I missed her too. Even those few seconds, those few minutes, the lady, my mother, was the closest thing I had to a family near me. When was I going to see her again? My chest panged with sorrow. I missed my mother. I was shocked out of my thoughts about her by a voice coming near my crib. It was Abby, and it was feeding time again.
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It felt weird, this place. It was a stony and wooden manor, looking old but still relatively new. It seemed well taken care of, probably because of the maids. Likewise, my room barely got messy as Abby quickly picked up any mess I had made. Playing with toys and slobber coming down my face, or throwing up on occasion, god, when will this travesty of being young ever end?
For the past couple of months that Abby had cared for me, she'd often drill my tiny brain with this world's alphabet and grammar. Teaching me to read and write as soon as I could pick up a pencil and book, and now I was 1 year old and crawling and standing. Freedom to walk has never felt so great in my life. I will never take you for granted, my lovely legs! It was an early morning, and I had escaped my crib. I was feeling bored and needed to release this pent up energy. 'Cause boy, I sure have a lot of it. I opened my chest, which held "toys": a wooden sword, a stuffed teddy, a rolling carriage, and a shield. They were not the ideal type of toys for someone so young, but they had to do. Another great thing I learned growing up was
"Young Master, what are you doing? It is so early in the morning. The dragon gods might gobble you up if you make a ruckus like this so early in the morning!"
Language, or at least this world's language. Of course, I still blanked on some things, but I had a solid grasp of the basics for the most part.
"Buwt abwy, I wan pway"
Of course, I still sounded like a babbling fool, but hey, it beats sounding like a boombox every day. Abby rushed over to me, and I ran. The chase was on, and I was the fastest man ali… I soon stumbled down and faceplanted onto the rugged floor.
"Oh my lord, Young master Soren! Are you ok, darling!" She exclaimed
Abby cradled me up and lifted me as if I weighed nothing.
"Yesh I'm ok" I said looking down in defeat.
So much for running, Abby was still rocking me, trying to soothe a nonexistent bruise on my face. She then sat back down with me in her lap. I looked up at her. I didn't realize that she had small freckles. I went up and grabbed her face. She flinched in surprise but let me do it anyway. I scanned her face, every inch, nook, and cranny. She seemed confused by my behavior.
"And what do you think you're doing, young man?" She said, smiling.
"Wondewing how pwetty you can bwe."
Her face lit up, and she chuckled at my comment, even though it was very, very sincere.
"Young master," she said, drawing closer to my face, my hands still on her cheeks. "Leave that talk to someone you love one of these days." She started in a calm but sarcastic tone.
She put me back down on my bedroom floor. The black rug was softly scratching at my skin.
"Abwy"
"Yes, Young master?"
"When will I go outside my woom?"
She stopped, stood up from her chair, and opened my door slightly. She stepped out into the hall, and then her head popped back in to say
"When you are ready"
And then, she was gone.