Chapter 1: Chapter 1: I used to have a handle on life, but then it broke.

The last rays of sunlight splashed against a concrete city, my eyes soaking in their radiance as I looked down on the buildings below. The view, so timeless in its beauty, beckoned to me. So close to the edge of death. My neighbours hated coming up here. They were scared of falling.

I use the railing to dry my clothes.

The grand sight was spectacularly ruined by the addition of my underwear and anime shirts. It didn’t matter to me. I was the only one that got to see this view. That made it special.

“Andross Silver?”

“That’s me.” I chirped as I hung the remainder of my laundry.

“Don’t hate me for this.“

A hand pushed my back. “Wha-”

I tried to resist, I really did. The strength of a full grown man, and still it was too much for me to fight against. It had been too sudden.

The railing shrieked in protest as my body was flung against it. For a second I thought that the metal would hold me in its embrace. Then, with a second pop, it released its grip on me. Air rushed against my body and flakes of rust tore through my skin.

I could feel pain in my side. Something felt out of place. My ribs weren’t where they were supposed to be. I took one final look at the person above me. The one that had taken my life.

She was beautiful.

The entire world faded away as I stared into her golden eyes.

Then everything went black.

****

Warmth. Loving, comforting warmth. It pressed against my legs, trickled across my belly and finally at my head. I opened my eyes, the world was blurry around me. Then I saw it. A giant head. Its lips opened and closed as it spoke to me, and it’s words flowed through my ears and caressed my heart.

It was a woman.

Then I remembered. The golden eyes, the pain. I hadn’t gone quietly, or quickly. My eyes closed but the rush of memories pushed through. The pain was too much for me. I cried. I never stopped crying…

… I might have exaggerated a little.

I don’t know when I fell asleep, but the warm body at my side and the gentle cooing of the woman’s voice let me know that I was safe. The building spun softly as she rocked me gently. She laid me down into a bed. No. A cot. Its sides were barred unnecessarily.

I’m a fighter. I grab at the sky and kick with my legs. Empty air is all I meet. With all my willpower I force myself to rise, my body straining with effort, but I can’t move. I have to face the reality of my situation.

My head is stuck.

Really, truly, stuck. It’s too big for my body. The smooth wrapping of my pillow cuddles the back of my head, and I can feel them shift aside as I try to move to see my surroundings. I don’t succeed.

The days flew by. There wasn’t much for me to do when I was trapped by the weight of my own head.

What had happened? I didn’t know. I couldn’t know.

I was a baby. Again. The panic subsided as my body fought against it, sleeping and eating taking priority in my mind. Sometimes it would be too much and I’d break out crying. My mother would come into the room and hold me, and my panic would subside.

The ceiling was my best friend. My only friend. My parents were the only other people in this house. The green walls, aged with scratches and peeling paint, had seen better days. Once there was a painting here. I could see its outline. Now there was nothing for me to see except for the peeling paint and splinters. Every minute was filled with the shenanigans that all newborn humans went through.

Eat.

Sleep.

Ponder death and reincarnation in an unfeeling world that moves past me day by day, night by night.

You know, the classic baby stuff.

It didn’t take long for my crying to subside. Or maybe it did. My concept of time was slowly fading. The only indicator that time was passing was the rays of sunlight filtering through the poorly constructed walls. I made a game out of reaching for them. If I touched one with my fingers then I won. There was no prize, but I still felt a rush of happiness every time I did it.

My parents came in every day to talk to me, and to hold me. Once I felt something fall on my cheek, a single droplet of water. I gazed up and saw the remains of a tear hugging the edge of my mother’s eye. A shadow crossed my vision, and the last thing I saw was my father bringing her into a hug.

Why was she crying? Was I sick?

I didn’t feel sick. I felt magnificent. So much energy, so much time. So little responsibility. The sound of a giggle resounded through the air. I couldn’t hold it back. My baby brain was shooting happy chemicals into me after a single good thought.

My mother turned back to me with a smile, and everything returned to normal.

‘Why do they keep me inside this room?’ The thought tickled at my mind.

I was a baby. I should be going outside in my mother’s arms. I should be marvelling at the sights of the world and the sky, the stars winking down on me with their gentle rhythm.

Instead I was stuck staring above.

‘Do I have a name?’

‘Do my parents have names?’ If they did then I hadn’t heard them.

The wood formed patterns and I weaved them into stories. The eyes of the warped north section gazed into the east’s bunny. A strange and terrifying splotch of mold was the wolf of the west. Its blue and white fur dug into a hearty plank of wood. It was growing at an alarming rate.

Then, finally, there were the stars. Dozens of them flying through the air at random speeds. Twinkling lights that radiated gold. I saw a new one crawl through the cracks in the planks, its glittering body no bigger than a mosquito.

Hold on.

What stars? Those hadn’t been there before.

My eyes widened. Drops of golden light flitted into the air above me, tantalizingly close. They teased me by drifting out of my reach. I admired their beauty.

What were they?

The baby in me was excited. Anything new sent a rush of amazement into my brain. Anything moving was a new thing to touch.

The logical part of me was going through a woodchipper.

Their very existence shrieked against my instincts. A cacophony of thoughts wiped the smile off my face as the lights approached. The drops floated lazily, like boats in an invisible river. They had no set destination. One wriggled above me playfully. Its golden radiance touched the walls and the decrepit painting grew brighter. Everywhere they touched came alive.

The splinters grew sharper, deadlier; the paint dazzled my senses, bright green and fiery red; and the light of the sun brightened, warming my skin.

I let out a happy shriek that shot throughout the house.

The sound of footsteps echoed across my cot. The lights wiggled in the vibrations of my father‘s footsteps. I could hear clopping and knew he was wearing those brown boots he used when going out of the house. Maybe the lights had interrupted him.

A figure in white followed. My mother. They spoke in low tones, but I was close enough to feel their body warmth. Father spoke quicker than usual, his hand shook the cot and I saw him shivering.

My mother responded with two words.

It was hard to learn a language only going off verbal cues. At least at first. I don’t know if they were speaking English when I first arrived. Maybe they were, and my ears hadn’t developed yet, but now I could understand them almost perfectly. Though I only heard two words repeated each day.

“First night.”

This time I heard the word ‘halfway’.

I reached out to my mother, her lips turned downwards and her hair drooping. It wasn’t the lights that upset her but something else. Something I couldn’t understand yet.

It was frustrating. I already had so much I didn’t understand, and now something new curled it’s talons into my heart.

A shadow passed over my eyes and I giggled as my mother reached down to pat my stomach. My emotions went against my thoughts, the blessing of having a child’s body. My parents didn’t leave me alone that day, the light danced through their hair and weaved into the walls around me. Beautiful wisps as bright as the stars I used to stare at.

Then the walls shook.

I felt it in my body, the house trembling. My parents froze, and my father took a deep breath. Something touched my ears, an unfamiliar sound, culminating in a loud bang.

My mother was the first to react. The ceiling lurched as she grabbed onto me, my vision darkening as strands of her hair fell onto my eyes. I held onto her clothes tightly, trusting her to bring me to safety. My breathing matched hers as she rushed through the house. The breeze brushed against my skin, it’s calming caress offset by it’s frigid temperature.

I’m outside of the house for the first time in my life.

The strange sound enters my ears once again. I can hear it better this time, a cry in the air. It’s getting louder. My heart bounces like a jackhammer. We’re heading towards it. What is my mother doing?

Something pounds against my skull, the beating of my mothers heart. It’s like a jackhammer. It drowns out my thoughts and I struggle to get away from it. Maybe she felt my struggles, maybe I had more strength than I realised, but I broke my head free and caught my first glimpse of the outside world.

There was a bird on the ground. Black feathers tainted with purple flapped against dirt and dust, failing to gather the energy needed to brush them off. It’s body was as round as mine, and it’s stomach crushed the blades of grass underneath it as it moved. It limped towards my mother without a care in the world, dragging its body forward. Each foot had seven claws. One of its legs was twisted in an unnatural angle.

It was injured.

I looked into its eyes, and I saw pain.

‘Save it.’ I tried to say the words.

I wasn’t going to let something die. Not after what I’d been through. Nobody deserves to go through that pain.

“A puffer?” My mother’s heartbeat slowed.

She deflated and her hold on me relaxed.

Then she turned away. The bird was in pain, but she had more urgent things to do. The sun was already going down and her arms were busy holding me.

Then the puffer let out a cry. It was so soft that the world around it didn’t react. The trees weren’t swayed, and the dirt still gathered around its body, but my heart wouldn’t stay still.

“Save it.” My gurgles annoyed me more than ever.

If only she could understand me. I needed to get a single word out. Then this creature‘s pain could be stopped.

“Sa-” I struggled violently to get the word out of my mouth.

“What was that?” My mother turned her head towards me. “Sa?”

My throat gave up. My mother‘s attention was on the wrong thing. I held a hand limply towards the animal. It was suffering, and I wanted her to help it.

The breeze blew past me as she bent down towards the animal.

“You’re right.” My mother held the struggling bird upside down from its legs. “This can be our dinner. What a smart boy you are.”

I cried mutely.

It was a dumb animal. It didn’t even know where it was, or sense the danger approaching. Evolution said that it deserved to die.

I couldn’t accept that. It hadn’t asked to be in this situation, it’s life dictated by creatures beyond its understanding.

I couldn’t get her attention with words, so I tried something different. I reached out with my hand and felt the silky smooth strands of her auburn hair, coiling them playfully in my fingers. Then I pulled. Hard.

I’m sorry mother.

“Hmm?”

She looked at me, and then at the bird. She raised the bird in her hand and then I pulled her hair again. She lowered the bird, and then I let go of her hair.

Mother let go of the creature. Dust plumed into the air at the impact. “You don’t want us to eat it, do you?”

I smiled, a childish giggle leaving my mouth. Baby bodies couldn’t hold back their joy. I liked it. The bird gazed up at us curiously. It’s caution was once again non-existent, and it even tried to cuddle up to my mother. It probably thought that she had given it a fun ride, instead of a death sentence.

I stared at the carefree bird. It’s feathers rustled and it chirped happily as it limped around us. It was definitely a creature that was destined to be food. It didn’t even realise it was hurt.

“I’ve raised a kind one.” My mother beamed. Then she put a finger to my lips. “But you shouldn’t say your first word yet. We want it to be something special.”

I could understand that. In my previous life my other mum had told me that she wanted my first word to be mama. It was something special for parents to hear their children talk to them.

I could give her a ‘mama’ for my first word.

“Can you say biology?” She said, “Or cooking. Maybe administration. Any of those will do.”

I looked up at her in disbelief.

This crazy woman.

I hope my gurgle conveyed the indignation I felt at her words. We made our way back to the house. The pitter patter of falling water followed us, but it wasn’t raining. I scanned the area curiously. It was the puffer. Its seven clawed talons hit the ground at irregular intervals, simulating droplets.

You are reading story Mark of the Crijik at novel35.com

The mindless little bird was following us to our house. I gurgled and waved my hand at it. My father would turn it into soup if it entered his sight.

I spotted him coming from inside the house. He held an axe in his hands and a terrifying expression on his face. Then he stopped, looked down, and saw the round bird struggling at the door.

My mother and I laughed at his expression. Then I stopped.

Why did he grab an axe?

And why had my mother taken me towards the sound?

I stared at my mother, her face tense and sullen. She didn’t look like she wanted to harm me. Her body language told me that. Her arms held me tightly, her hair caressed me and her smile comforted me.

So, why had she run towards the danger?

My questions went unanswered as we made our way back into the house. They once again put me down into the cot, but now after sleeping they would take me out to see the bird every now and then.

The animal hadn’t moved from the area, but I saw that it wasn’t injured. It was fat. It’s strangely crooked leg stayed crooked, but I saw it kick out at the ground and the kinks turned perfectly straight. It wasn’t a broken leg, but some kind of strange evolutionary design.

They even let me feed it. Whenever my father complained he was reminded that the bird made me happy. The puffer grew bolder as days passed, coming three times each day for feeding and taking up space in a nearby tree. The snow began to disappear, and on the first day of the new season the sun’s rays peeked out above me. My mother hummed a happy tune, and my father sat down with his hand held over a cube glowing with symbols.

The cube was new.

It defied common sense. I was a baby, so new things shouldn’t surprise me, but seven clawed birds existed, there were lights in the air, and now glowing cubes.

Something strange was afoot.

When the sun grew high in the sky my parents started to treat me differently. It was subtle at first. My father started to skirt around the house. A sneaky glance towards me and then towards my mother. He waited for her to leave the room and then he leaned over me.

He pulled out a badly drawn picture of a stick figure running. I think I’d seen this one before it had been finished. It had taken my father a whole day to draw.

“Hey son, can you say velocity. Ve-lo-ci-ty.” Spittle rained down on me as he spoke. Then he ruffled my hair and flipped the paper. On the other side was a picture of a red ball. “Fireball. Fi-AGH!”

My father’s hair flung back as my mother grabbed his head in her hands. “What are you trying to teach him? Do you want to burn this house down?

I was safe at last. I could still feel fathers spit on my face. I needed a bath.

My wish was granted as my mother lifted me in her arms. Then she leaned over me.

“Your silly father doesn’t know what a baby's first words should be.” I giggled as she cooed at me. “Finance.” My mother whispered into my ear. “Mathematics.”

The skin of my face tightened at her words.

‘I’m a baby. Why are you teaching me this?’ My intention was defeated by my lack of developed vocal chords.

Drat.

Their strange dance of alternative teaching only grew worse each day. My father would take care of me in the morning and show me more terrible drawings, and my mother would follow with complex words.

Architecture, wax, pillow, table, algebra, measurement, ocean, ice, fire, farming, creating, growing, engineering, irrigation, astronomy.

My head swam with questions.

These two crazy parents of mine really wanted my first word to be something special. I don’t even know how they knew about some of these things. Everything around me looked like it belonged to cavemen.

Maybe I’m being a bit harsh, but it didn’t stand up to the standards of my previous world. Not the part I lived in.

I had to accept the truth.

Clearly I had brain damage.

Wait, no, that couldn’t be it. I wrestled against the truth for days. Weeks. It was something so simple yet impossible that I didn’t want to accept it.

I had become a baby in another world.

I stared up at the ceiling, creating worlds out of the mold and splinters, when the thought finally clicked. I cried out, and footsteps followed. My mother burst into the room, and my father followed closely, but they didn’t look happy. Or comforting.

My mother picked me up, my hands reaching out for her clothes, and she smothered me with her grip. My father turned to us and shook his head.

“We have to leave. First night is coming.”

What does that mean?

“He’s not ready.” My mother protested.

Her fingers dug into my arms like talons. I let out a cry. She let go and I could see the panic in her eyes. It wasn’t directed at me, or at my dad.

“Don’t you have connections? I know the nobles use-”

“-They haven’t shared their means for 1000 years. They won’t start now, even for me.“

“What if he doesn’t make it?” Her voice was soft.

I don’t think she wanted me to hear her. It was tough to see her like this, so worried, so fragile. I clasped her shirt in my hands as she had done so often to me. I showed her that I was right here. I was safe.

Her words hit me. Death. They were talking about me dying.

‘I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me.’ I gurgled at her. ‘What is the first night?’

She couldn’t understand me.

“Now you’ve gone and panicked him.” My father‘s words were sharp, he raised his hands and cooed at me. “There, there. There is nothing to worry about.”

It sounded like there was a lot for me to worry about. I still hadn’t gotten over my first death. I didn’t want to go through that again.

‘What if there isn’t a third time?’ I couldn’t keep the thought out.

He plastered a fake smile on his face for my benefit, and my mother was doing the same. I curled into my mother’s arms and blocked their smiles from my vision.

“-Spoken about this.” His whispers grew louder. “The nobles only told me one thing. His mind needs to be calm for a higher chance of survival.“

“He’s a baby. He can’t even keep calm when he needs to go to the bathroom.” Her clothes folded over me as she held me tighter. “Surely one of them can spare a magician. Are there spells for calming a mind?“

My father didn’t reply, and my mother grew silent. They stayed that way, until we’d left the house.

I kept my mouth shut and enjoyed my mother's embrace. Then something unexpected happened, I heard something. The sound of footsteps that didn’t belong to my parents. I opened my eyes and peeked through the gaps of my mothers clothes. There were people there, a man and a woman.

That’s a surprise. I was starting to think nobody else existed in this world.

“Teral. Lindria.” The woman called out to my parents.

I opened my mouth wide at the woman’s words. This was the first time I had heard my parents' names.

“Shh.” My father hissed at the woman, but then his features loosened. “I forgot. We can say our names now. It feels so… strange.”

I let out a gurgle as I registered his words. They had been keeping their names a secret on purpose. I knew it.

But why?

The new couple drew closer, the woman clutching a bundle of clothes. Then something came out of them, a wriggling head with tufts of soft hair.

A baby. It stared at me with wide eyes, and then let out a burp. Drool dripped down its chin and I looked away.

I hope I don’t look like that.

“I didn’t want to bring him.” The woman’s eyes hovered over her baby. “He’s too precious to me.”

“You got too attached.” The man said to his wife. “You know hardly any survive the first nigh-”

A hand cut him off. “Not in front of my child.”

My father stared with fury in his eyes. His fist clenched, and the other man took a step back. Then my mother put a hand on his shoulder and my father relented.

“You hold too little hope.” My mother’s tone made me shiver. “Do not bring that bad luck to my child. He is smart, and strong. We know he will overcome it.”

With a final look at the other baby I was whisked away. My mothers footsteps were quick, and her muscles tightened around me. She was worried.

The other man’s whisper snuck into my ear as we left.

“I said the same about my first two.”

My fingers curled into my mothers hair as she walked.

Then they appeared around us. Adults. Each one was silent and clutching bundles. A baby for every couple. I eyed my peers warily. I’d thought that the ‘first night’ could be my birthday, or something that happened when I was a year old. Apparently not.

Some of the children were soundly asleep, tiny fingers curled over their stomachs protectively. Others held onto their parents, more grown than I was. I counted six children in total, seven including the first couple we ran into.

Then the sky revealed itself to me once again. My mother's embrace loosened, and she lowered me down. I felt something tough against the back of my head, loose pebbles pressing against my skin. I tried to lift my head, and then turned it to the side. The floor was a giant stone.

Oh no.

This stone looked suspiciously like a sacrificial altar. I’d never seen one before, but I don’t think a suspicious stone altar filled with newborn babies could be anything else.

I struggled to rise, but my mother's hand steadied me. I looked up at her. She wouldn’t kill me, right?

“Don’t worry, don’t worry.” My mother’s eyes wandered, looking at anything but me. “This is just the first night. We have all been through it. Whatever happens, don’t worry.”

First night. I tried to grin at her words, and show her I wasn’t worrying. This woman was my mother, after all. She wouldn’t want to hurt me.

The other babies didn’t seem to mind. Some struggled against the stone, others lay there cuddling the hands of their parents.

Whatever it was, I could handle it. I wasn’t just a baby. I might not be able to go to the bathroom alone, or bump into anything without crying, but beneath these folds of fat was the mind of an adult. I refuse to believe something existed that other babies could do but I couldn’t. I had a full stomach and an empty diaper.

I’ll show the first night I’m the boss.

Silence descended on the gathered parents. The babies grew quiet as well, sensing their parent’s unease. Then a ray of light grew in the dark of the night. I stared up at the heavens and saw them open, cracks dripping with golden light, bleeding into reality.

A million stars washed away the silence, a sea of golden light that illuminated the sky. They danced across the air, and brought life to the night. In front of every baby a swarm of stars descended. They comforted me, hugging me with their warmth. It was more comfortable than a mothers love, and more protective than my father’s axe.

Then I blinked, and the lights had gone. Where they’d journeyed I couldn’t see, and the night was empty once again.

That wasn’t too bad. I’d been worried for nothing...

 

… it started with a crack.

Light flooded the sky, and I saw the sun in all its glory for the first time. No longer hidden behind the walls of my house. It shone red and furious. Night turned to day, and the babies around me cried out in terror at the sudden change.

I forced my eyes open, blinking away tears. The rays of light flickered, and then disappeared. I stared up at the sun and saw something. Darkness slithered across the sun’s surface, a tentacle of a creature larger than I could perceive. Another joined it, consuming the star in its grasp, and then it was joined by another. They dug into the centre of the star, prying it open and releasing a raging inferno.

A shriek cascaded through the air. The cacophony of a celestial body dying. I wailed in response. Then the sun exploded, its flames reaching out towards us.

The clouds parted before the incoming force. An unstoppable wave spreading further than I could see, enveloping all in its grasp. The sky was the first to break, shards of the world itself falling from the heavens towards me and then being consumed by the flames.

Then the air grew hazy, animals falling from the sky, and the treetops turned dark and shattered. It was the end of the world, and I was directly in its path.

Nope. I didn’t sign up for this. I’m a baby. My diaper is no longer empty.

I panicked. My hands reached out and I felt a warmth cross over my body. My mother had already wrapped me in her arms. It did nothing to comfort me. The sky was falling, the world was ending. Flames scattered across the heavens and the sun had been carved open like a fruit.

Then I paused.

Why couldn’t I see my mother?

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