I mentioned Athelei being a rather normal baby, didn't I?
Well, he kind of is, and kind of not.
Athelei's parents (re)named him after the morning on which he was born.
"Orien!" A voice boomed with the gentleness and weight of a father, "Come on! You can do it, boy. This is the moment that decides your life. I believe in you!"
A fleshy, badly unbalanced foot came down upon the wooden floorboards that sprawled throughout the comfy house that its owner lived in. Athelei, who now also goes by the name of Orien, or "morning," grunted in helplessness as his weak baby knees refused to bear his weight.
Only a pair of swift, and elegant arms were what prevented him from immortalising his image onto the floorboards. His fall was promptly prevented.
"Trien! He made his first step!" A flowing voice called out with delight as it continued, "...Now go, dear. Our food won't serve itself. Grab your bow and get your bum out of here!"
Trien, Athelei's father, froze in a celebratory pose. The beaming smile on his face cracked with the recollection that he still had a job to do that stopped him from spending time at home where it was warm and cosy.
"Alright, Winter." Trien sighed in pleasant resignation as he took one more glance at the mother-son duo and he jogged out of the house—bow slung on his back and quiver, full.
Meanwhile, Athelei was relishing the experience of being a simple, ignorant, and pure baby. His mother's warmth was unbearably comforting, and her lullabies were masterpieces to his ears. On the other hand, his giggles made Winter's eyes shine in endearment as the duo continued their attempts at Athelei's walking ability.
'So this is what it means to be human,' Athelei thought as he swam in the emotions, memories, and senses aplenty. Every day felt oh-so new to him with the absence of Infinity. His mind was limited, his actions could not totally follow his commands, and his knowledge was nonexistent.
But that's what made it so good.
With his baby brain, he learned how to walk. His muscles and body developed in the care of his family. He celebrated a birthday with the newfound ability to talk, played with his sister, Alice, in the fields behind their house after his second birthday, and then learned about his little town after his fourth.
It was a simple life as he continued to grow as a human… but not so simple beneath the surface, as an existence that practically created the universe.
For one, the process of learning was becoming an addiction to him. Whenever he finished playing a game, whether he won or lost, he felt joy. If he ate all his food, he felt energetic and happy. If he woke up in the morning, he also felt energetic but in a different way from food.
He surmised that aside from what could have been normal human responses, he felt that way because he was achieving all that he could not while he was an infinite being. He was regularly partaking in the concept of "endings," and even the much unexpected yet not totally unwanted "beginnings."
When he learned a new word, the journey of that study would end.
If he finished a game, playtime would end.
If all his food was gone, mealtime would end.
Whenever he woke up, his sleep would end.
"Life iz booti.. Beauty? Beautiful." Athelei pronounced with his toddler tongue, "Yes. Life is beautiful."
A hearty laugh sounded out from right behind Athelei the moment he spoke such words aloud, "Is it now, my little Orien? What makes it so beautiful?"
"It's because I do a lot of things, Dad! It's beautiful! Beautiful!" the young boy replied with a smile from the bottom of his heart.
'Okay! That's the end of the practice of that word. Another one off of the checklist~' Athelei inwardly sang in the language only he knew. 'The practice of this country's language is going well. Sooner or later, my mouth would have enough muscle memory to say more complex words with ease. I am almost finished with the basics. I can't wait to end this stage.'
Trien smiled at the sight of his son. To him, Athelei was such a great kid. There was nothing too special about him, save for perhaps his nigh-universal enthusiasm, but the way he behaved—smiling and laughing with great joy—was just contagious. It was as if the innocence of children was beautified and magnified in Athelei's little form. His little Orien had an aura of fun around him that drew friends to surround him and adults to protect him.
Of course, that didn't mean the child was as perfect as can be. Trien still witnessed his son have difficulties, cry, be hurt, get angry, and sometimes be unreasonable, as well. He would be sure to guide the boy in following Libra's teachings when this occurred. And so far, his teachings looked to be working out—something he felt great about.
'He may be slightly unbalanced with his enthusiasm, but at least it leans towards the good.' Trien thought proudly to himself.
Looking at this, perhaps we can say that Athelei had successfully executed the saying, [When in Rome, do what the Romans do.]
He was a child, and thus, did what children did. He followed his human nature and instincts and was slowly assimilating them into what and who he was.
Another part that contributed to the complexity of his life was the fact that the more he learned, the more he wanted to learn more. It felt like a loop.
An infinite loop—and this bothered him ever so slightly.
It was but a small issue, however, for it was clouded by the storm that was the energy of curiosity. This human aspect, or more accurately, this mortal aspect was immensely compatible with his wishes. Perhaps unhealthily so.
Place a psychologist in front of the young boy and it's quite clear to see that he had developed an obsession.
Concerning? Perhaps.
Does it matter? ...Perhaps.
Athelei saw no issue in him being able to experience what he had longed for as a Denizen of Infinity. He let the curiosity fuel him, and he was not once disappointed.
But this had led him to another human feeling: Concern.
There truly was something wrong with this infinite universe. He could tell, even with just the minuscule details he was being taught. As for what was so 'wrong' about it?
He had absolutely no clue.
What? He's a four-year-old.
This inability to receive answers tormented him, and similar to his dislike for great amounts of pain, Athelei was not fond of such a feeling.
He had even used a piece of resilient animal skin that his mother had no need of as somewhat of a diary. Although he was still "illiterate," as he had no one to teach him, the concept of reading and writing was not foreign to him.
Why did he need a diary?
Simple: Not all humans have an eidetic memory.
Athelei wrote in the same language as his thoughts. To everyone else in his family, he was simply scribbling with charcoal, but this abstract image—when translated—formed multitudes of paragraphs that documented his life and was updated each Sunday he listened to Libra's teachings.
=o=o=o=o=
230th Sunday
That cold, electric feeling hit four times this week. Every time had been stronger than the last. No behaviours seem to affect such phenomena. Any behaviours that I am capable of, at least.
Curse these human weaknesses! I love them but I hate them at the same time!
On a more pleasant note, sister Alice's 12th birthday is coming soon. I hope that the sparrow I tried carving out of clay would be a good enough gift. I tried my best but these plump, dexterity-dry hands can't do much. 12 years of age seems to be a turning point in this country's society as well, so I worry for her well-being.
Alice would be leaving to some location of centralised learning the day after her birthday. I'm going to miss her, but at the same time, I'm excited for our current routine to end.
Mom and Dad are going to have one less helper in the house though… I really want to step up but alas, my previous unending complaints still stand. I can't wait to see how this childhood growth process would end.
Athelei - Orien
=o=o=o=o=
Athelei folded his rather worn, animal-skin diary and placed his charcoal pen back inside the fireplace. He looked out the window after climbing up onto a stool and watched the orange-red sky darken with every passing minute.
For a moment, he regained his bearing as an infinite being and then sighed as any human would.
"Time, huh..." Athelei contemplated as he waited for his parents and sister to come home from the bakery.
Dinner would be served soon, so the young 4-almost-5-year-old boy made another attempt at helping out around the house.
He successfully reached the high shelves using tricks that he had trained for and grabbed the wooden utensils.
Chunky items in hand, he waddled towards the also-hard-to-reach dinner table and laid the items down the way he was familiar with. When he was done, a shine flashed in his eyes.
"Hehe,"
Athelei was satisfied with his accomplishment. He would later place an addendum in his most recent diary entry:
=o=o=o=o=
Table Setting mimicking: Completed and Ended.
Will proceed towards mastery.
=o=o=o=o=
And while Athelei relished in these emotions, a knock came sounding rhythmically onto the door of his humble abode.
'They're home!' Athelei felt a bout of excitement run up his spine and ran to open the door in the same way he had always watched his family members do when someone knocked.
But oh sweet summer child, was it the excitement that dulled your senses? What have you observed in the past?
Only strangers would knock.