First Years

The first thing I remember?

A light flash that completely blinded me. It felt as if a flashlight had turned on in the direction of my face, dazed, I could barely open my eyes.

It took a few seconds before I got used to the brightness and stopped seeing only blurs. I was definitely in a room, but it wasn't mine, the walls of that room were dark wood lit with a few candelabras.

The strangest thing about waking up in a room that was not your own? Hearing voices that you don't recognize, not even the language. There were three people talking, with a male voice between them.

My mind was confused, countless thoughts, my vision, body still hurt and now strange voices. A feeling as if needles were piercing my body, I tried to hold the pain, but ended up crying.

The sound was like a baby crying.

This was maybe the strangest part…

I couldn't stop crying, then I felt warm arms holding me, I was embraced so gently in a way I never thought I would remember. The feeling was comforting and welcoming, I had no doubt, only my mother held me in that way.

When I looked, I soon discovered it was my mother, I can't explain it, the feeling I hadn't felt in years, I felt in that woman's embrace.

Even though she looked frail from childbirth, her gaze was serene and kind. Her light brown eyes and beautiful blonde hair made me calm down in moments. Her mouth moved, the unrecognizable sounds of her words were mesmerizing, falling asleep, I felt the pain in my body fade away.

Days passed, and I ended up confirming my doubt, I was reborn as a baby, a lovely baby, my skin was a dark shade, but a little light, my hair was dark, almost black and my eyes were light brown.

That woman who wrapped me in her arms was really my mother, not that I had any doubts. And I also met my father, he looked scary, a brunette with short hair, his posture was like that of a strict military man, but when I looked directly at him, his reaction was to cry.

That man started to speak indistinguishable words in the midst of crying, I could only find it funny, I believe I ended up laughing a little at the moment, which made him cry even more. His hug was also warm, but unlike my mother's I felt confident and loved when being hugged by him.

These were my first weeks when I was born, perhaps the strangest moment of my life, or should I say old life?

[…]

My perception of time was not total, I believe this is normal among newborns, which is why the first months of my birth passed strangely fast. I only realized the real change when the cold came, it was winter.

It wasn't much different, but for the first time in my life I saw the snow gently fall from the cloudy sky and form a light white layer all over the grass. They wouldn't let me out, they just took me to a window in the living room, I could see a few things.

The landscape was quite rural, a small garden, a very rough dirt road and almost no houses in the vicinity, it was a place far away even from the neighbors.

Again, some time passed, about a year in all, I was already crawling easily and could make out a few words, my name was John, or Jonathan to be more formal. My parents were Scott and Martha, a young couple from the city, we live in the country, it is very cozy. My mother, I don't know what she does exactly, her study room was locked, even if I tried to get to the room, she would catch me in the middle of the way.

My father, I could hardly believe it, he was a knight, away from the service to which he was related, but he was still a knight and a swordsman who looked like he came out of tales and games, he had an armor that looked more like a uniform, not at all like those armors from medieval history, and also, a double-wielded sword that was gigantic. Using it to train, his movements were firm and centered.

One day while watching his training I caught myself imitating some basic movements, he saw them and ended up crying so much, I understood things like "son" and "knight", I think I sealed my future.

But my mother was against this idea of his, that night she said something like "John will become a scholar", my parents want different things, and I have no way to choose? Unfair.

"Mama, Papa, don't fight"

In all this time, I never tried to speak, I thought I wouldn't succeed, but when I simply tried, I succeeded. They were both incredulous, my cute attack was effective.

[…]

My 5th birthday seems to be an important celebration, so much so that we had a small party. My parents, my uncle who was a knight in shining armor, and some neighbors with their younger children, one of them was Thomas, a boy who turned 4 this summer. You could say that we are friends.

I received some presents, clothes, toys and books, I liked to read a lot, because then I understood a little more of this world, which was really fantastic, I don't even know where to start.

Gods, demons, creatures that tear the skies, wizards that divide oceans, and warriors that break mountains with just the swing of their sword. I thought they were just stories my mother told me before I went to sleep, but they were not, the world was incredibly vast.

Mana, or also, Mana Flow, was an energy that exists in all living beings, which gives us strength, energy, and connects us directly to the Higher Beings, the gods of this world. I ended up leaving my disbelief aside, nothing was surprising anymore, since all the adults confirmed all these things to me.

I also received a gift from my father and my uncle, it was a sword.

These two gave a training sword to a 5-year-old child, it was a wooden sword, but heavy for a child's size. I brandished the sword imitating some moves, the two got so emotional.

"Brother, we have another powerful Lancaster in the family", said my uncle.

My mother defended me on the spot, saying that she did not raise a warrior, but a genius. And again, they got into a mild discussion about my future. Wouldn't it be easier for me to choose? I could very well be both.

I spent the rest of the day playing, a practical way to interact with my first friend, Thomas. He liked the sword so much that he said he would be a knight just like my father, his dream was to fight alongside brave warriors, to defeat the monsters and demons that bring evil to the world.

He was quite a dreamer for his age.

We ended up playing duels, and came to wonder what kind of blessing the Higher Beings would give us.

It seems that in this world, all humans without exception receive a unique power, or ability, granted directly from the gods, we call "Blessing".

I will ask my mother for more books about this, maybe even take me to the library, it's something worth studying, I can't wait to receive my blessing. And it's not like she's going to refuse her future genius son to study more either. While other children are playing all day long, I am more concerned about my condition.

I want to know what happened to me, I can remember almost nothing, flashes, short memories of a world totally different from this. Memories of a colorless, apathetic and monotonous life, and at the end of it all, a shadow that pulled me across a path over the water.