As I observed the adults around me, I made an effort to understand their conversations. The language was familiar yet strangely different, a dialect akin to English but filled with nuances that eluded me. Gradually, I pieced together fragments of my identity. My name was Nyx, and I had a twin brother named Astor. Yes, he was a boy, just like me. I also learned my mother's name was Selene.
With each revelation, my sense of self began to solidify, but the exhaustion from my efforts soon crept in. I felt my eyelids growing heavy, the weight of sleep beckoning me once more. "Oh shit, I'm going to fall asleep again," I muttered, the words barely escaping my lips before slumber enveloped me, pulling me into its comforting embrace.
Six months have passed, and the world around me has grown clearer. I can walk pretty well now, though my words are still clumsy, awkward sounds forming on my lips. I'm only nine months old, after all, but I was right—not just me, but my twin brother Astor has also learned to walk. He moves with such confidence, almost as if the world is his to conquer.
Astor is full of boundless energy, always darting across the room, laughing with reckless joy. I've noticed that they've appointed more caretakers just to keep up with him. While I take a moment to watch and listen, absorbing everything around me, Astor is all motion—running, climbing, and seeking attention wherever he can find it. It's fascinating how different we are.
In these moments of stillness, I've come to understand something else: the language they speak here, Aetherian. At first, I thought it might be similar to English—something familiar—but I was wrong. It has its own rhythm, its own melody, and though it shares faint echoes of what I once knew, it is something entirely different. My mother, Duchess Selene, teaches me a little of it during her quiet lessons. She says Aetherian has a deep history, shaped by the first settlers of Aetheria and influenced by countless cultures over time.
I've learned that Aetherian has 32 letters in its alphabet—10 vowels and 22 consonants—and I've come to recognize some of their shapes and sounds. My mother is patient, explaining their origins, the subtle nuances in the way they are spoken. I don't know if it's common for someone as young as me to sit through these lessons, but I find myself listening carefully, trying to piece it all together. I understand the language when it's spoken now, though reading and writing remain a mystery to me.
Astor, of course, wants no part in these lessons. He'd much rather run and play with our mother, dragging her from one corner of the room to another with his insatiable energy. It's amusing, watching him, and sometimes I even feel a little envious of how easily he commands attention.
Our father, Duke Alaric, visits us from time to time. He's a quiet man, speaking little when he comes. But Astor craves his attention too, pestering him relentlessly until he acknowledges him. I don't chase after our father the way Astor does, but sometimes, when the mood strikes, I'll join my brother in his attempts to catch our father's eye. It's a strange dance between us all—Astor and his wild spirit, me and my quiet curiosity, and our parents, watching over us as we grow.
Each day brings new discoveries, new steps forward, but for now, I am content to learn and observe, while Astor takes on the world with his unbridled energy.
Selene's POV
Nyx and Astor, my little twin boys, are growing up so fast. It feels like only yesterday that I held them in my arms for the first time during that incredible cosmic event—the Celestial Convergence. Now, just nine months later, they're walking, exploring the world in their own ways, and revealing more about themselves every day.
Nyx, my quiet observer. He always watches so closely, so thoughtfully. Sometimes I catch him listening to me when I teach him about our language, Aetherian, even though he's so young. He sits there, focused, absorbing everything I say. It's remarkable. I never expected a baby to care so much about language, let alone understand it as he does. There's something special about him—he's not like Astor in that way. Where Nyx is calm and curious, Astor is pure energy. I see Nyx taking everything in, from the way I speak to the stories I tell him about our heritage, but I know the reading and writing will take time. He'll get there, though, I'm sure of it. He's always thinking, learning.
Astor, on the other hand, can barely sit still for more than a moment. He's all movement, running to me, grabbing my hand, pulling me away to play. He needs attention, constantly. We've had to bring in extra caretakers just to keep up with him. He's a little bundle of joy, always laughing, always moving. I love watching the way he goes to Alaric, pestering him for attention. It's funny, because Nyx will join in sometimes, but I can see he doesn't need that attention the way Astor does. Nyx prefers to stay in the background, thinking about things, while Astor tries to be the center of it all.
They are both so different, yet there's a balance between them that feels right. It's as if they complete each other in ways I'm only beginning to understand. Nyx's quiet nature and Astor's wild energy—two sides of something powerful, something deeper.
And Alaric... He comes to see them when he can, but he's never been one for words, especially with the boys. I can see how much he cares, though. The way he watches them, his quiet pride when Astor tugs at his arm, or when Nyx surprises him with one of his rare, thoughtful glances. He doesn't need to say much, and the boys—especially Nyx—seem to understand that.
I've never felt so fulfilled, so needed. Watching them grow is everything. Nyx and Astor are the heart of my world now. I wonder what they'll become as they get older, but for now, I cherish these moments, watching them take their first steps, speak their first words, and discover the world in their own unique ways.