Fragmented Awakening 3

Through the window, the moons loomed large in the sky. One glowed brightly, reminiscent of Earth's moon, while the other radiated a dark purple hue. I had seen these moons before, but the memories were hazy, like fragments of a forgotten dream. "I think this is the planet I—or rather, my previous self—came from."

It dawned on me with startling clarity: this world didn't have two moons. "F#cking hell! I thought I was somewhere in Europe, but it's not cold here at all!" I was trapped in the body of a baby—how was that even possible?

"Reincarnation? Transmigration? Just like those fantasy novels back on Earth?" The realization hit me hard, mixing wonder with frustration. "Aaaa f#ck this shit. I'm going to sleep now; I know nothing."

As I tried to drift off, my mind spiraled into a deep sleep, the weight of my condition settling around me. My new reality felt surreal, but it was clear—this was anything but normal.

The next day, I stirred from an unsettling sleep, a torrent of questions flooding my mind. Why am I here? Who brought me here? How did I even get here? A chilling thought crept in: How did I die? So many questions clawed at the edges of my consciousness, yet there was no one around to provide answers. I felt an overwhelming sense of isolation, a reminder of my strange reality.

With a heavy sigh, I surrendered to the situation, trying to piece together what I could remember. I'm from Earth, I thought, recalling the familiarity of my past. But this place? It doesn't have two moons like Zephyros. The sun seems larger here, somehow brighter. But for all my pondering, one question loomed larger than the rest: Who was I? My identity felt like a foggy memory slipping through my fingers.

As I mulled over my fragmented thoughts, a commotion pulled my attention. During the cleaning session, a caretaker had placed my sibling precariously at the edge of the crib, deep in conversation with another. I watched, a mix of curiosity and dread, as the energetic child rolled, tumbling off the bed and landing on the floor with a thud, erupting into tears.

That was when things turned bizarre. My parents appeared as if conjured from thin air, gliding into the room without so much as a knock. It felt surreal, like they were ghosts materializing out of the walls. The caretaker, startled, dropped to their knees, scrambling toward the fallen child. But before they could reach out, my mother moved with an astonishing speed that defied reason, intercepting them with a grace I'd never witnessed before.

Is this normal for humans here? I wondered, wide-eyed as I observed the scene unfold. My mother, her expression a mix of concern and calm, raised her hand. A shimmering blue light emanated from her palm, bathing the room in a gentle glow. I felt an electric pulse in the air as the bump on my sibling's head began to fade, the cries subsiding into soft whimpers.

In an instant, the child was back in their crib, eyelids fluttering closed, drifting into a peaceful sleep. My parents then ushered the bewildered caretaker out of the room, leaving behind a silence thick with the weight of what I had just witnessed.

What just happened? My heart raced, a knot of fear twisting in my stomach. The existence of magic was not just a whimsical notion—it was a palpable force, a variable that could turn my life upside down. I had wanted a normal life, a comfortable existence, but it seemed that fate had other plans.

F#ck my luck, I thought bitterly, feeling the weight of the world upon my tiny shoulders. But there was no point in spiraling into panic. We're just a baby now. I reminded myself, a strange comfort in the simplicity of it all.

Sleep, eat, poop, cry. Those were my duties now, a routine I could manage. As the gentle lull of fatigue began to pull me under, I embraced the tranquility of my new existence.

With a final, defiant thought, World, f#ck you. I succumbed to the darkness, letting the chaos of my new life fade away for a while.

One and a half months had slipped by, and I found myself sitting up with ease, my small hands gripping the edge of the crib for support. I could even manage to stand, albeit wobbly, using the wooden slats as a makeshift handrail. A sense of accomplishment filled me, but it was quickly overshadowed by a nagging feeling that something was off. Perhaps it was the magic in this world enhancing my physical development. I was only three months old, after all.

Peering through the narrow window, I caught sight of figures moving about outside. My limited vision couldn't capture all the details, but it was enough to recognize the armor gleaming in the sunlight. Real knights. They stood only a hundred meters away, exuding an aura of strength and authority that sent a shiver down my spine.

The bustling servants and my father's dominant presence painted a clear picture—this was no ordinary household. My heart sank as I pieced it together: I must belong to a noble family. A part of me longed for a normal life, free from the trappings of titles and responsibilities. But with magic in play, I feared that dream might be out of reach. If I were part of a ruling family, the weight of expectation would surely crush any hope of a simple existence.

In the midst of this confusion, my thoughts drifted back to my grandmother, whose gentle spirit seemed to envelop me during our garden sessions. She was the mother of my father, or so I assumed, and I had just met a man who resembled my father—an older version, perhaps my grandfather. He shared my father's serious demeanor, but there was a softness in his eyes reserved for us, a glimmer of warmth that momentarily eased my worries.