'My life is stable enough for me to not get reincarnated.' I do not have any regrets, there were some decisions that I wished I could go back to, some mistakes I made, but the guilt faded overtime and my family was there to help for me to stand on my feet again.
I was fortunate enough to be born on a loving family where arrogance was a stranger while kindness is a companion. My family has the ranking of high-noble and had served the Emperor since the founding of the nation, the house of Lawstrong has the power almost equal to the Royal family and thus, making them the most dominant out of all the nobles.
My family is kind - compassionate. When I was a mere child with the age of six, I have no idea whatsoever on why my parents and grandparents keep taking home homeless and weak people. I would watch from afar as a carriage would stop by and lead the homeless out, their faces and body scrawny and designed with dirt. My mother would ask the servants to help them respectively and in return, they would fill their mouths with praises and gratitude.
The property was big enough to fit half the nation, so I never complained, I never asked. I was just curious on why they pick the weak and not the strong. As I grow up, I slowly understood why.
People weren't born the same. Some are lucky to be strong, while some are not and be born helpless. The world I lived in was beautiful enough to not notice the burned corners of the painting. The house of Lawstrong knows that. I was pampered, and a few children my age doesn't even have the luxury to eat three meals a day.
For me, though, I never struggled as much as the others do, I have the talent, I have the mind, the capacity, I have the power, I just need to will to push forward. And I did. For the oath of the Lawstrong that my ancestors swore. I became one of the best soldiers in my country, with my banner right behind me for millions of people to see. I made my family proud. I know it just from their cries and shouts of happiness.
Regardless, for me, I did not wish to return to the body of an infant child, where I have no control over my own fat tiny body with the tiniest of things hurting the delicate skin of mine.
If any of the deities the empire I once resided in on my now past life had send me in this new world, more specifically, Mirranda. I had just wished for them to incarnate me normally, body of a child; mind of a child. At least, that way, I can grow up normally like any other kids, not some prodigious kid of a commoner who suddenly birthed the future king of whatever universe this is.
I'm can't say I'm surprised tho, I'm never the religious type, if anything, maybe this is my karma for skipping the simulation practice of Professor Coletero. His teachings are boring, It's not my fault I already learned that. I don't like him anyways.
I shook my head, It's no use reminiscing the past. If I'm dead, I'm dead. I just hope mother and father won't go ballistic.
I couldn't help but frown. My death simply felt nothing to me, but leaving my family is behind was complicated. Sure, I felt sad but... that's it. There's no remorse or an inkling of regret of not being able to see them. Like, I'm not even supposed to be feeling anything towards them. Not even an ounce of dread.
'Ugh, I'm pretty sure Akbar's the reason behind this.' Akbar of Vehemence, by the tittle itself. He must - no, he stripped my ability to feel connection and emotions for my family. The reason? how would I know.
Then, a fiery of light engulfed my view, forcing me to close them for a few moments before brightness finally settled down, squinting my eyes open now. My orbs were met my the high, dark ceiling.
I assessed my surroundings, taking on how it looked like a noble's room, and this crib that I'm on seems to be made out of gold. Even in the darkness, you can still see it shining. The only source of light is the moon shining down on the window sill, where it seems to lead to a balcony.
Laying on a light blue silk and many toys, it feels stuffy and uncomfortable, the clothing I was wearing is making my skin itch very hard. Even the tiny little gloves and socks along with a little beanie on my head.
'Huh.' I don't remember waking up at a crib, I woke up to three gods looking at me like I'm their supper, unless my memory serves me wrong.
I felt uncomfortable on this new... body. Infant body, it's weird to move around with tiny elgs and arms and I can barely lift my head.
'I don't really like this... but... I guess I can bare it?'
There are many paintings framed and lined up on the room, a transparent vase filled with roses on a high-class wooden made table with a two inch glass stack on top.
I peeled my eyes away from it to stare at the ceiling, wondering what I should do. It's not like there is except for being fed and taking out waste from my stomach, what else do babies do?
I subconsciously grip my hand, trying to imagine that on my palm was the sword that was bestowed upon me, my partner.
"Uwah..." I grumbled in disappointment, they could have at least brought me my sword too, I can use it once my body is grown enough to handle the sharp steel.
Turning my body to the side was enough to make me sweat hard.
'Ha... as expected of this tiny body, eugh... I'm so exhausted...' panting heavily, I drop the thoughts of trying to formulate a plan to what to do, unless I'm the villain who's bound to die in an early death, I won't make much effort to try and flee this place.
Glancing at my gloved hands, I wonder if Spirawil's King was rotting on hell already for the sins he committed.
'Hehe... the faces he would make when Beleth is torturing him...' oh what shame I wasn't there to see his suffering, his expressions would be gold.
["Ah!! help me!! forgive me Lord!!"] with flames and a whip for the torture... these thoughts were a bit morebid huh...
I cracked a grin.
Pushing that thought on the side, I wonder how my family is doing now on the fact that their prophet son is dead on the war, and my grin quickly faded. My sister Gwenette will surely cry her heart out along with older brother Michael, chanting along the lines of 'how could he die in such a young age?! huhuhu! my dear brother!' they were alike, so I'm not surprised if they're going to be dramatic. The blood runs in the family... but it's reasonable.
Mother will surely crumple down, father sprinting to confirm if my death was true and horror will creep to his face once he sees my unmoving body, if they even recovered it with how deep the Broken Woodcliff is.
Head-deputy butler Gabe and head maid Arianna along with the other residents of the manor will also shed tears, everyone who knows me will weep of course, apart from our enemies, they'll surely laugh obnoxiously.
Hm, I wonder who will inherit my belongings and properties, there's quite a number that the emperor gifted to us prophets, ha... I just hope that those noble brats won't snatch it for proclaiming that I had handed it to them.
A knocking snapped me out of my inner turmoil of thoughts and the door creaked open slowly, a shadow of the person leaking on the room and soon was revealed as a lady dressed in a simple blue gown, revealing her the upper part of her chest and tiny bits of her breast, greyish blue laces and frills drawn on her shoulder to the end of the dress, golden ribbons tied to the end of her elbows of the dress, a light pink inner layer on the bottom along with golden designs and a pearl necklace as the only accessory.
'Her face... it seems familiar.' her face was decorated by light green eyes that seemed to glow like stars in the dark, a not too sharp nose, blonde hair that was tied to a bun, a visible jawline and upward type of brow.
Except for the visible sign of fatigue and lack of sleep, she was the most beautiful woman she I ever lay eyes on, third to my sister and mother.
She had this soft and gentle feeling around her, seemingly knowing how to take care of herself and a tiny smile to almost successfully capture my heart. She looked very young, younger than than when my mother had older brother.
The color of red spread around my cheeks faintly as I turned around to avoid the bright aura of the lady, my heart is not prepared to be taken in by such sight. Permission, not granted.
The woman took light steps and stopped on my crib, looking down on me and taking notice of my awake form.
"Looks like my baby is awake." her alluring, melodious voice reached my ears and couldn't stop my chubby hands to turn and reach out to her and coo.
'This is hurting my pride, what did I just do?!' I cried to myself, as a grown up man, doing things like this is a kickback to my self-esteem. I'm not even supposed to be here! where is control when you need it?
Wait, 'Baby'?
That's my mother?! I made and enquiring noise at the revelation.
My actions took a toll on her as she chuckles, stretching out her hands to wrap it around my form and cradle my infant body close to her chest. She snuggled to my face, giving my nose a quick kiss and hugging me close.
She smells like fragrant flowers on bloom in summer - refreshing and warm, just like what my mother used to smell like too whenever she lays me on her lap and reads bedtime stories. Like what mother used to be when she sits me on her lap and read bedtime stories for me.
"Hello, my baby, how are you today?" she asked me, looking at my eyes and checking on my body. I answered, buy it came more of a gurgle than anything, 'I'm okay, lady - or mother?' Babies tend to learn how to speak words around a year and a half or when they're two years old, it's not unusual for an answer to come out like this. The vocal cords and voice is not developed on this body yet. It also seems that this body is around two or three months old. 'Ooh-ing' and 'Ah-ing' are the normal vowel sounds for them.
She smile, cheeks going upwards as she bounce me on her hip. The light of the moon falling on the room taking her attention briefly before returning to me again.
"Did my baby sleep well?" I nodded as my reply instead this this time, not wanting to further embarrass myself more.
She walked around the room leisurely, giving me the privilege to inspect more than what I had on the crib.
Cranking my not visible neck, I took in how everything seemed to be made out of gold, wood, silver and silk. The carpet draped over the florr, the luxurious and large chandelier that I somehow didn't manage to see before, many chairs as well as a large couch in between.
She took a seat elegantly, patting my cheek and taking off the beanie, strands of blonde hair falling into my fcae, blocking some parts of my view.
'Since when do babies grow hair so fast? it's long enough to reach my shoulder...' all that stuff packed into the beanie? that's why my head feels so irksome.
She scratched the back of my head gently, giving me a kiss on the forehead and caressing my cheeks afterwards. She looked at me with so much care, even tho I'm not her real child.
"Mama's sorry for not seeing you lately, Mama's still recovering her health so that she can see you everyday... won't you forgive me, my dear?" she asked, the tone of sadness laced on her voice as she speaked.
She sniffed, chuckling as if she was amused by her own question. "Ha... my baby..."
Hey, you did nothing wrong, you're only recovering, what's the bad in that? prioritize your own health, surely you have a trustworthy person to take care of me so why do you look like crying?
"Mama has tons of works so only auntie Dianna and the servants can take care of you, Papa and your older siblings need to attend their own works." there were tears on her eyes and a downcast look, not fitting for her image. She shakes the tears off, wiping it with the heel of her palm and looking away.
I looked at her incredilously, not sure if my facial expression really made it out. 'You're working? after giving birth? the hell? are you a superwoman or something?' what is she thinking about doing work when clearly her body is not prepared for it? can't she have an attendant do it for her?
'Woman, I don't know who you are, yet, but clearly, you don't need to overwork youself, that's what the assistants are made for, kick them out if they're not even doing what they're paid for.'
"Ma... ma..." my voice strained as I called out to her. I stopped for a bit, surprised on my vocal word making out. My new mother flinched and glanced to me with wide eyes.
"Nyo... cwaying... me... owkway..." my hands were on either side of her cheeks, patting it and I can feel the soft texture despite my gloves. 'The fuck is that? is it even proper to call it a sentence?' I couldn't help but curse, damnit, why do I even have pride to begin with. I felt determined to comfort this lady, the urge to make her happy suddenly came out of nowhere, but I will feel useless if I didn't do anything.
'And what the hell is your husband even doing? he's supposed to be taking care of you regardless whatever position he's working, so un-gentle man of him.'
She looked stufipied at my 'words', effectively stopping tears in favor of inspecting my form.
"My... Oh my..." she whispered in complete astonishment, then slowly raised her arm to cup my hands and squeeze it with just enough force to make me feel. She gazed around the room for a moment then raised me higher with carefulness, meeting with our eyes on the same level.
"My baby... did... did you just talk?" she trailed off in pure awe.
I peered away with a thin bead of sweat rolling down on my temple, the design on the carpet looks complicated but beautiful, how come I never noticed it before?
The upset look she had had vanished away in replace of one with a stupified one but the tears were still gathered on the bottom of her eyelids.
'Haha... how troublesome.'