A man stayed afloat in the bitterly cold darkness, the void that held his lone soul captive. A warm sensation suddenly came to this man's body, who miraculously took in a deep breath and his last thoughts reverberate in his head, numbering into an infinite chime, when suddenly a deep, sinister voice called out among the pitch darkness, "Fate was indeed created by that fool of a god, but I have other plans for you... Start once more at zero and rejoice your chance to live a fair life, just remember, when the time comes, you won't be able to stay away from me... The heavens are truly filled with fools, to throw a being filled with so much unbridled hate for them right into my open palms...", the voice started to fade out with a series of chuckles, "Do not fret, the language of this place will come to you naturally, as it should, but remember my favour to you!", it added, and the man himself, now very much awake, could feel an intense chill run down his spine, sharper than the sharpest knife and more intense than the warmth that continued to grow... This could only be worse if his own thoughts would not slow down, and yet they sped up as he started to feel his body again.
First his feet, slowly inching up towards his waist, then up to his shoulders... something in the warmth wrapped itself around his neck, tightening ever so much as sensation after sensation returned to his body, he could feel himself struggling to breathe, kicking his legs around in a spasm of wild desperation. Alas, the warm noose around his neck loosened, and he could breathe again, swiftly recieving a sharp pain on his buttocks... 'Oi! What the fuck?!', but all that came out of his mouth was a shrill cry, the cry of a newborn baby, and he heard, "Congratulations, its a boy...", in the most uninterested tone ever and he was now pressed up against a soft, comforting place. 'Hold up, just a second, start from zero? That cry that came from my mouth, and now this seemingly familiar feeling of warmth...', an elated young woman's voice came through to him, "Then he shall be my dear son, Isaiah von Bleak", as he heard this, something was being rubbed up against his lips, instinctively his mouth closed around it and he began to suck. Harder and harder as the sweet taste spread into his mouth like the ecstasy of the finest glass of alcohol he could imagine... earning a surprised moan in reply to his efforts..., "My, my what an eager child, feed as much as you want my darling Isaiah, this mother of yours is so incredibly happy to have you...", she giggled, and he fed till he could not anymore, falling into a deep, comfortable sleep, cuddled by his mother towards the warmth of her body.
Within this sleep, his mind was active, running at many hundreds of miles per hour trying to accept the situation he was in, 'So... I am a baby now...', he nodded to himself, 'So... I just have to cry a little and boobs will appear to me? Damn... that's too much good fortune already!', he knew he was probably sick in the head for those thoughts, but he couldn't help it, his mind was after all, that of a reclusive, constantly bullied, grieving 32 year old man, who never had a similar opportunity in his life back then...
'Back on earth... I doubt I'm still there... von Bleak doesn't seem like a name I'd ever heard of', for hours he debated in his mind, coming to three conclusions; he has been reborn, whether back on Earth or some foreign otherworld, he could not decide, second, that sinister voice's presence still seemed to be around at the furthest edges of his consciousness, like the entity had never left, but stayed to watch over him. Finally, he could 'feed' as much as he wanted without being ashamed, he was physically a baby after all, no matter the moral turmoil in his conscience, that was what babies had to do in order to nourish their bodies', this was his last thought, before he succumbed to the sleeping state of his new body.
When his infantile eyes opened for the first time, the light of dawn was leaking in through a large, intricately designed window. He then looked around and found a very beautiful woman cuddling his tiny body, she had long, silky, walnut coloured locks of hair falling across her flawlessly smooth, fair skin, he blushed inwardly almost forgetting the notion that he was in this position as an infant, as the newborn son of this very woman. As if on cue he felt a rumbling sensation in his stomach, he hesitated for a second, still trying to stuff away his middle-aged conscience. Finally, he let this body's instincts do their job and once more, he heard the shrill cry leave his mouth, earning a response from his 'mother', who stirred awake calmly from her sleep, "Oh? It's morning now? Yes yes, Isaiah, your mother will feed you now", she smiled tenderly at his form. Her pupils were a vivid yellow colour, speckled with streaks of vibrant orange hues and wisps of gold, this is what he saw before she put his face against her exposed breast and his baby senses did the rest.
A few weeks passed by like this, an older woman named Cecile would occasionally enter the room, check on his mother, bring in luxurious meals for her, and leave, sparing him an impartial glance as she exited the room, carefully closing the door. He noticed that, this woman's pupils were a bright green color, like that of fresh green leaves on the trees in spring, but she was indeed, quite aged and her clothes made her seem as though she were a very high class maidservant, with her short black hair tied up into an immaculate bun. He never heard anything definite about, or saw his 'father' in these few days, raising some dark suspicions, but he could do nothing, after all, he could not speak yet.
The more he looked around, the more he realized that this place was many centuries behind in technological advancement. He also thought that, since his mind is far more developed than that of a newborn baby, he should try to do things like walking on his two feet earlier. Again, he opened his eyes and the warm light of dawn leaked in from the window across the bed, he had been doing this for the past few days, attempting to find his balance, unfortunately stumbling over his own weak legs, and falling onto his mother, who would wake up, smile at him, feed him, and then proceed to talk about her life to him.
She used to be a top class adventurer, famed as the Holy Saint of the Battlefield, he knew she thought he wouldn't understand, but she would smile all the while, recalling her adventures with a wide smile, but that would dissipate everytime she mentioned the name Graham. He often wondered if that was the name of his absent father, and again, he couldn't do anything about it as he could not even speak.
A new day, and he was making another attempt to stay stable on his own feet, he managed to hold himself upright, and ventured to take a step on the top of this extremely soft bed, quickly losing his footing as his body stuggled yet, to support its own weight. The disturbance caused his mother to wake up with a start, the soft mattress had reacted too, sending his already off-balance body on to floor. Thankfully, although luxurious, this bed was low down to the floor, he had only bumped himself a little, however his mother had a look on her face as though she had committed a great crime, and his body reacted to the pain, letting out a wave of wailing, "Cecile! Cecile!", his mother shouted out as she rushed over to pick up her crying son, carrying him back onto the bed and trying to comfort him, the woman called Cecile rushed into the room soon after, seeing Isaiah's bruises all the while as she walked up to the side of the bed, "He rolled over? So soon?", she was puzzled but nevertheless she started to help his wounds heal, a faint green glow was emanating from Cecile's hands covering Isaiah's body, relieving him of all the pain he had just felt. Mentally, that was a short fall, but his body said otherwise...
'Hold up, that's magic isn't it? Oh god... it really is not earth, just where have I ended up because of foolish thoughts?'