A couple of months went by, and finally I learned my name.
My new mother, but also actually a total stranger, called me by my name, which was similar to a word in my past life, and that was "zaemon." I liked it as it reminded me of a character from my favorite show. I decided to not change the pronunciation of my name even if my mother tries to correct it.
I decided to let go of my past miserable self and start fresh.
The way she stared at me was so pure that sometimes I felt strangled under it. I knew that look. It was an expectation. Of what, I wasn't really sure, but I was hoping it was limited to things expected from all babies like rolling, crawling, walking, and trying to speak.
Did babies speak when they were a couple of months old?
No, they don't.
But I figured there was no harm in trying.
So, I did that.
I tried to spoke.
It wasn't particularly hard, but since I tried to imitate the words she used, they all came out in slurpy, slippery ways that didn't make much sense.
It did, however, put my mother in a good mood, which she forced me to join by twirling me in her arms and showering me with kisses.
Then she set me down and beamed at me, speaking in her melodious voice yet again.
Okay.
There was a problem.
I couldn't understand her. I needed more time to adjust to this odd language.
I continued to do what babies do, like making cute noises and raising my arms towards her. I would reach for her face and play with her nose and cheeks while I check out the surroundings.
Father came home every now and then, but only for a short while. He came once bathed in blood and with a strange creature corpse on his shoulder to see me; in those few seconds, I thought I was going to die again, but Mother came in fury and quickly sent him away to clean first.
This incident raised many questions, like, what does my father do? Why was he covered in blood? What was that strange creature? What about the outside world? Is there something wrong in my imagination for this world?
When I sat in my mother's lap on the wooden porch a few times, peering into the distance where wooden houses sprawled across what I presumed was a village. To the right, a vast forest stretched from beyond a gurgling river. And observing our house, I presumed it to be a world similar to Earth before the 19th century. But now I begin to doubt that.
Fortunately I didn't have to wait longer for my answer.
...
By the time Dad finished cleaning up, Mom had already changed me into my new outfit, and she had changed her clothes as well. They both headed out of the house and walked toward the storage area, but to my surprise, there was a horse in the area with curved horns on its head! As I looked closer, the area I had presumed was used for storage actually matched a horse stable. We got close to the horse, and it was magnificent; its light black coat glowed in the sun, as did its white horns. It looked toward me, and I could clearly see its deep crimson eyes.
We sat on the horse, and I was squished tightly between Father and Mother. On command, the beast started to run, starting with a rhythmic trot before rapidly increasing its speed. There was no mechanical whine of an engine or the click of shifting gears; instead, there was only the powerful, rhythmic drumming of hooves against the dirt. I was certain our pace rivaled my motorbike from my previous world. The wind whipped past my ears with a roar that reminded me of riding down a highway; the air was crisp and smelled of crushed grass and earth. This wasn't just a horse—it was a confirmation that this world operated on a logic far beyond anything I had believed before.
We soon reached the destination, which I presumed to be a village, but it was more than that; on closer observation, it appeared to be a mix between a civilian and military outpost. All attention was on us. People similar to my father first came forward and then saluted him. Their eyes were clearly on me, which made me nervous. We got down from the horse, and before my father could say anything, my mother moved forward and introduced me in a way similar to The Lion King, and everybody cheered.
I felt really embarrassed by this theatrical introduction, but I was timely rescued by my father's loud cough. My mother sat with another woman who was younger than her and had eyes full of respect toward her. Groups of people in twos and threes came and started talking to my mother while observing me. I couldn't understand the conversation between them.
Damn it, I really need to learn the language! I believe they were asking about her health and about me. I slowly drifted to sleep, as the day had become quite overwhelming for me. When I woke up, I was in the house, and it appeared that Dad had left.
....
At five months old, I am learning the language with great difficulty; however, I can now understand basic conversations with relative ease. I have also mastered crawling, which makes exploring a breeze since there is no one around to stop me.
The backyard is a true game-changer. There is something innately refreshing about letting the sun bathe me in its golden light; it reminds me of my past childhood, before I became such an "indoor person" later in that life. Here, there is nothing to distract me but the walls of our house and a collection of wooden toys my new mother carved by hand. She is a wonderful woman. She always pulls me into her arms with a wide smile, making me wonder if my biological mother would have been just like her, had she not passed away.
"Having fun in the sun, my Zae? I'll join you in a bit," she calls out as I sit on the wooden porch.
I turned with a smile on my lips and gave my new mother a look. She didn't know how relieved I am to regain some of my bodily functions. My scholarly understanding of anatomy helped me significantly in learning to crawl and has been a massive benefit to my language studies. I even discovered that I can learn while I sleep for short bursts without any issues; if I push it too long, however, it leaves me with a splitting headache and total exhaustion. I still remember the concerned look on my mother's face the last time I overdid it.
I hope to discover more of my hidden abilities as time goes on.
True to her word, my new mother soon joins me in the backyard. This time, my father joins us as well. He is clad in leather armor, carrying a massive greatsword in his hand. After ensuring he is a safe distance away from me, he extends his arms, takes a deep breath, and begins swinging the blade rhythmically. I was shocked the first time I saw it, but I've grown used to the display. Those defined muscles of his clearly have a long history behind them.
Each swing of his sent a gush of wind to our wooden fences, making them groan. Sound is produced when he swings his sword, similar to a whip. Suddenly, he moves toward the thickest tree; his muscles size increased, a red aura envelopes his body, and he cleaves it clean in two. My mind goes blank at the sight. I looked at my mother; she had a proud smile and lust in her eyes. It was the same face that my girlfriend made when one time I showed my martial arts in public. In reality my skills were limited. Well, good for them. I sincerely hope one of my abilities is to sleep, ignoring sounds from surroundings.
But having a swordsman for a father is incredibly cool.
....
The main reason for my linguistic improvement was my mother, who constantly talks to me and reads various stories. These tales are mostly similar in nature: a hero or a group sets out to find a lost princess or some legendary item. They battle mythical beings and return triumphant from their expeditions, followed by wild parties where alcohol is the star of the show. My "earth-side" felt a little awkward hearing about booze in children's stories.
After considering my experience and observation (both his father and his father's horse), I know these were based on some truth. The characters use magic; therefore, this world must have magic.
I am convinced there are two distinct power systems here: one for magicians or wizards and another for warriors or knights. I still need more information, but my father clearly falls into the warrior category. It's a win-win for me; even if I lack the talent to be a mage, I can become a warrior. With my father's help, I can build a solid foundation.
Now, the only thing left to ensure my incredible future is to give it my one hundred percent.
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