Birth

I awoke to a harsh chill, like being pulled out of bed and thrown into snow. Where was I? I tried to draw a breath, but my lungs were blocked. Globs of phlegm spluttered from my mouth as I desperately struggled to pull in air, but to no avail. My body seized up and I tried to scream, but all that came out was a high-pitched gargle.

Viscous liquid dribbled down my chest until, finally, I managed to take a breath. I tried to wipe myself clean, but my arms were like jelly. A sudden, uncontrollable urge to cry overcame me, and I started wailing. What the hell was this?

I opened my eyes and beaming light blinded me. The world was dappled and clouded by tears, like a frosted window. What about my other senses? I tried to listen for something, but my own screaming was deafening, and my nose was too blocked to smell. All I could feel was wet and cold.

I flailed around, struggling to grab something, and found an object. It felt like a wrinkled arm, and I latched onto it, reassured by its warmth. Something soft enveloped me, making me feel more at ease. My crying stopped, and there was some time to take in what was happening.

I was a baby, and I had just been born. It was the only explanation that made sense. A bit of a ruder awakening than I had expected. I thought Sirius would have sent me here in a body like my own. Adjusting my eyes, everything was blurry save for the face of a beautiful woman. Tears welled in her dark-ringed eyes, but they were the kindest eyes I had ever seen.

I smiled instinctively on seeing her, and a brilliant smile of her own appeared. She brought me down to nestle on her chest, and I caught another face out of the corner of my eye. It was a rugged man, his stern features softened into a picture of relief. Was he my father?

He started speaking in a rough, rumbling tone, "Oscar…"

I couldn't make out what he was saying, but I recognised my name somewhere in the midst. It seemed strange that this baby had the same name as me… no… that wasn't right. This baby was me. More foreign concepts were sure to come, and I had to quickly learn about this world.

As I thought this, I was whisked over to a cot and I unwillingly started wailing again. Strange people examined my body. A medical check, I guessed. In the meantime, I tried to make sense of my surroundings but could barely see a foot away. I caught flashes of green but not much else. The body checks stopped, and I could vaguely see a figure coming across. After some rustling and fumbling about, something cold touched my chest.

I tried to lift my head to look, but I just lolled around. Barely peeking over my chubby cheeks, I saw a soft golden glow rippling across gloved hands. After a brief silence, there was a murmur, followed by a rumbling laugh, presumably my father's. There was some clapping and excited chattering, which was eventually silenced by a feeble, familiar voice.

I was brought over once more to my mother, and somehow I knew the voice had come from her. The atmosphere was vibrant, filled with a happy thrum of voices, but exhaustion took over and I succumbed to sleep.

My second awakening was much gentler. I was nestled snugly in a warm nook, bathed in dim light. I could see my pudgy hand, and from the rise and fall of my body, I guessed I was in my mother's arms.

My thoughts went to cultivation. If I started cultivating as an infant, I would be far stronger than my peers and hopefully satisfy Sirius. He had told me to cultivate his Technique, so I tried to remember the strange book he had sent into my mind. Sure enough, it came back to me. It was somehow different to a memory: more vivid, and not so obscured by the fog of decay. Instead, it appeared before me, akin to a vision.

The book was made of smooth brown leather with long stitches of golden thread binding one side. The title read: Soul Becoming World Technique, in slightly flaking, burnished gold leaf. The book opened to the first page. Ink-brushed words on off-white paper read:

Chapter 1: Soul Birth, Early Commoner stage requirement. To begin to form the soul, one must find the soul seed in the—

The book slammed shut, ripping me from the vision. Panicking that I had missed the chance to learn, I tried to revisit the vision but was met strangely by words. These words were imprinted in my mind, detailing a complex meditation.

I clenched my tiny fists, realising what this meant. Techniques were a key element of cultivation novels, describing methods of manipulating Qi. A Cultivator was defined by which Techniques they chose, just like a game character is defined by their skills. Whatever this book contained would become my first skill.

I rushed into the Technique, scanning its words. The terminology was confusing, but I had a head start. I had already seen this 'soul seed' when Sirius had guided me through the Mind Integration Technique. But he had induced me into an incredibly deep lull, could I do that on my own? There was nothing to do but try. I closed my eyes and began to observe each sensation, but my new body felt alien, and I couldn't relax.

My restless fidgeting woke up Mother. She sat up and gently rocked me, cradling my head. She spoke with a pleasant smile, and I found her voice had a comforting strength behind it, but when I tried to listen to what she was saying, I realised there was a problem. My inability to understand speech was not because of confusion or a hearing deficit. I simply could not understand the language.

Within strings of foreign syllables in unfamiliar combinations, I could make out the occasional 'Oscar,' but nothing else. I had been terrible at learning languages in my past life, how would I learn a new one here? I couldn't seem to meditate yet, and I couldn't even understand what my mother was saying. Where could I go from here?