All that is left is nothingness.
An eternal flame called "existence".
Does it even exist...?
Huh...?
Is this feeling...?
I don't... know.I opened my eyes.
I can't get used to the light.
The sensation is agonizing. It feels like every nerve ending fired at once.
Wait... Wasn't I run over?
When my vision finally cleared, I saw a woman staring at me.
What? I survived...
No, that is impossible. I was struck by a truck weighing tons. Surviving is almost impossible, unless I fall into some crazy margin of probability.
I refuse to accept it.
I remember feeling my body shatter and my consciousness fade.
Even so, reality told me otherwise.
I saw in shades of gray, white, and black.
Maybe that is a consequence of the accident. But the fact that I survived, that I can think and look around clearly... that isn't probability. It should be impossible.
No, no, no, no...
I wanted to leave. Why?
Now others will take care of me. They will wipe me when I go to the bathroom. They will bathe me when I am dirty. They will feed me, even if I don't want to live anymore. It is an absolute nightmare. But what made me question everything was the woman. She was looking at me with a smile. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair was plastered to her forehead.
She looked like she had just been in labor. If so, what am I doing here? I was moving. I decided to pay closer attention to my surroundings. This is not a hospital room. This is not a place for someone who just got run over.
This is a..
A beautifully decorated room. The woman's figure became sharper. Someone handed her a small bottle. After drinking it, she stood up suddenly, as if nothing had happened.
"...! ..."
Once my sight and hearing cleared, I saw many people rushing in and out. They were carrying trays and cloths. What...? The woman looked in my direction.
"..."
No, wait. Something is wrong. This really is not a hospital. They are speaking a language I don't understand, but it feels strangely familiar. Maybe my brain is scrambled from the crash, but it sounded like a subtle mix of Greek and Latin. I can't be sure.
I also can't move, and my vision is strictly monochromatic.
The same woman approached.
After watching me for a few seconds in silence, she lifted me in her arms like I weighed nothing. Huh...? I am nearly six feet tall... Did I lose my limbs in the crash? No, that doesn't add up. For starters, why was the woman who just gave birth holding me?
"...!!! ...!!!"
The woman holding me had a lot of energy. That only made me feel worse. If reincarnation is actually real, where on Earth am I? Or am I in the past? That would explain the lack of modern technology, but not everything else.
"Ah... ah... ah..."
I tried to speak, but it was just a clumsy, useless attempt. It came out wet and meaningless.
My tongue feels heavy. My throat is weak. My breathing is shallow. I am incredibly exhausted. I am not injured. This is just an underdeveloped body. That was when I decided to look down.
I saw a tiny body. So reincarnation is real. Well, I was living proof that the impossible could happen.
But I don't care if it exists.
I don't care at all.
Why me? What did I do to deserve this? I suffered enough already. I was finally free. I finally broke my programming to stop being an empty shell, but the moment I do... life plays a joke on me again.
"...!... ..."
The woman seemed to be asking me something.
I didn't understand a word.
What language is this?
In my past life, I studied countless languages. I researched ancient tongues and dialects spoken by very few people...
As I tried to process it all, my physical strength drained away. An overwhelming wave of sleepiness washed over me. Is this the best I can do as a baby? At least... And then darkness fell.
---
A full month passed.
I still don't know why I reincarnated. I couldn't do anything about it either. In my current state, I have no choice but to depend on these people. I can't act on my own or fend for myself. I need them to do everything for me.
It is horrible. If things stay like this, no one can be protected. I am weak. I am the one who needs protecting... it all comes down to that.
The strong exist to protect the weak.
Suddenly, a hand stroked my head and pulled me from my thoughts. It was my new mother.
"..., ...?"
She adjusted her clothes, spoke to me softly, and pulled me close.
It was strange. Not the breastfeeding itself, but the fact that I never resisted.
As a baby, I have no choice. I should feel awkward or uncomfortable, but I don't. As a baby, I need to eat. I need to be cared for. Carried. Protected. Watched over.
It is strange.
There is nothing I can do. I also don't know how to cry, so they just have to guess when I am hungry. So I simply closed my eyes and let it happen.
The door flew open, making my eyes snap open. The culprit was my father. He was smiling and came to stand beside us.
They started talking like usual, exchanging kisses every now and then.
From what I could tell, they aren't older than twenty.
Young parents.
Putting that aside, the room was impressive.
There was a chandelier. But there were no light switches or any trace of modern clothing.
The entire room was lit by candles. Everything looked expensive, and the room was massive. Probably a hundred square meters, with high ceilings. Just a corner of this room is bigger than my old apartment. In short, I reincarnated into a very wealthy family. Filthy rich. The kind that loves showing off their status... and all I wanted was to be able to move as soon as possible.
---
Four months passed.
I could finally recognize colors, move properly, and gain a little strength.
As a baby, all I could do was crawl, observe, and explore.
Crawling didn't do much good, because my room is huge and there is nothing interesting to investigate.
They didn't let me leave. Probably because of the stairs. Even though I couldn't do much, the important thing is that I can move. And the unexpected part was discovering that I actually liked it.
Excitement. Euphoria. That is how it felt.
I don't know why, but I enjoyed moving around. I looked up at the chandelier. This was definitely not my old world.
First, there was no electricity. It wasn't just my room. During the short walk my mother once took me on, I noticed there were no switches anywhere.
Second, despite the lack of power, the ventilation was perfect. Fresh air flowed in constantly.
The door swung open.
It was my mother. She had reddish brown hair tied back in a ponytail, and every time she walked in, her matching eyes locked right onto me. She never had to search for me. She just knew.
Once, she found me hiding under the bed.
"Oh, my sweet baby. Do you want to see your grandmother?"
Picking up the language was pretty easy. It wasn't that complicated in the end. My parents talked a lot, and for some reason, they always pointed at things when speaking to me.
Do people in this world normally teach things to babies so early? Before I could think too much about it, she scooped me off the floor.
"Come on, sweetie. Grandma wants to see you." She hugged me tightly.
The walk to the courtyard felt endless. I think we went through three hallways, down a staircase, through another long corridor, and finally reached the garden where my grandmother was waiting.
Some people might think being born rich is a blessing, but life always finds a way to make you work. Money doesn't guarantee happiness. Especially if you get parents who expect too much from you, to the point of teaching you words this early.
As usual, I am overthinking.
I am convinced everything is awful. The environment. Society. People. When the truth is, I am the only broken thing here. But I am not used to this. I am not used to a mother who holds me so easily, not knowing I am a fake. If she finds out what I really am, it will break her heart.
I guess I am just exaggerating. Maybe it isn't so bad. I am not even a year old yet. And I am already worrying about this.
Who says I can't just pack my bags and leave when I am older?
Right now, this tiny body is in the way. So all I can do is try to impress them. An urge I never expected to feel. The garden we entered wasn't the main one. It was heavily guarded, surrounded by stone walls over fifteen feet high. This isn't a mansion. It is a palace. A mini fortress disguised as a home.
"We finally meet." The woman speaking was my grandmother.
"How are you doing? I hope you are feeling well," my mother said.
"You know me. Same as always. I rarely get sick."
"I can tell. I heard about your adventuring days recently. They say you were unstoppable." My mother adjusted me in her arms, holding me close to her chest.
"Were? I still am. Anyway, hand the little one over."
Before taking me, she stared at me for a few seconds.
Then she lifted me up above her head to get a better look.
Or maybe it just felt that way.
I wasn't sure what she was doing.
"So this is little Darian. He is bigger than I thought."
"You know how it is. They grow fast."
"Yes, I see that. Just like his grandfather."
She looked at the ground, then back into my eyes.
She kept staring until she finally handed me back.
"Juliette..." my grandmother started, trailing off.
"What is wrong?" Juliette looked overly worried. I could tell by her face.
"This baby has his eyes. Aerius's eyes... he got that color back." She could barely get the words out.
"Yes, Valerius noticed right away. Isn't it wonderful? My little boy is a blessing," Juliette said happily.
"Aerius had reclaimed that color, the one that started our family so long ago. And now Darian has it... I have no words. Lucius and Valerius didn't inherit it, and neither did Lucius's children."
"Really? I didn't know red eyes were so rare. Valerius never told me." Juliette tilted her head.
I see.
I inherited red eyes from my grandfather.
It sounds like he passed away a long time ago.
I don't know when exactly, but my grandmother's voice shook when she said his name. Maybe it was recent.
Why do I feel bad for her?
"Well, it doesn't matter." My grandmother looked right at me. "Little one, you will be very useful."
Useful?
How does that help me?
Who says that to a four month old baby?
Maybe she means as an heir, a leader, or a political tool.
Whatever it is, I hope it isn't a tool.
I was already being treated like an asset. At least by my grandmother.
"I understand. Sometimes I don't like pushing him so early, but for what is coming, I think we have to. I just want him to live a good life."
A good life.
My grandmother nodded.
"Juliette, has he shown any signs yet?"
"I watch him closely, but sometimes it feels like he is watching me. It is strange. But I think he is just a calm baby. Some are loud, some are quiet. My cousin was exactly like this."
"Are you sure? At this age he should be more energetic. Or fussy. But... Valerius used to be quiet too, even if he did sneak off a lot."
"The only thing is that he never cries. Not even once since he was born," Juliette said.
I couldn't help that. I couldn't cry if I didn't know how. If I forced it, it would sound incredibly fake. I already tried once. I think I terrified the maids.
"He hasn't cried at all?"
"No. Not once."
"Mmm..."
"You know old souls exist."
"Yes, I know. If the goddess Anth willed it, then it must be so."
"Exactly. My little boy is perfect."
A goddess? Old soul? I get it. People in this world believe in those things. Just like the religions back on Earth. It isn't so different here.
Even though I stopped believing in gods a long time ago, I guess I am living proof of an old soul. They talked about it a little more. Apparently, being an "old soul" here just means a child is naturally mature. It doesn't mean they know about reincarnation. They just think the soul is recycled, bringing a bit of maturity and intelligence with it. It is just a superstition. There is no proof it is real. Smart babies are just smart babies. But even "old souls" usually cry during their first few months. I am in a completely different category.
"It was nice seeing you, Juliette. I have business in Rosenlie, so I can't stay long. I should get going."
"Thank you for coming all this way to see him."
"Of course. And thank you for giving us such a wonderful boy. I am sorry about the trouble we gave you when you married my son. I hope to make up for it."
"Oh, please don't remind me." Juliette's cheeks turned bright red as she took me back. "It makes me so embarrassed."
She was completely in love with Valerius. If it meant marrying the man she loved, she didn't care about the drama. From what I can tell, Juliette wasn't born into nobility.
---
They took me back to my room. This time, my mother didn't put me in the crib. She lay down on the bed with me, opened a large book, and pointed.
"This is a tree."
"Tr... ee..." I babbled.
"That's right. It is a tree."
As she read, she traced the letters with her finger.
Why the rush to teach me?
I am only four months old.
Actually, I shouldn't complain. This was incredibly helpful. The story was simple enough.
A group of heroes defeated a massive dragon named Dhryn. They used its bones to hold up a giant island where the king's castle now stands, protecting the truth of humanity.
That is quite a fantasy story. But my mother's voice was sweet as she read. Soft and attentive. Even when I squirmed, she never ignored me. It stirred a feeling in my chest that I didn't quite understand.
Wrapped up in that feeling, I fell fast asleep.