The next five years came faster than I had anticipated, flying by like a blink of an eye, and in that half-decade, I discovered many exciting things. One of the very first new discoveries that came my way, was the fact that I no longer inhibited the same world I originated from, and that this new 'world' had other residents besides humans. My new residents seemed to be occupied by other mythical and fantasy races, tall slender elves with their pointy long ears, they were few and far between in the town we lived but their appearance was what baffled me. In fantasy, elves were known for their beauty and noble stature, these elves had none of that. These beings were tall and slender but their faces ruined any inclination that they were attractive or noble, it was pug-like, sunken in with big rounded noses. Their counterpart the dwarves were the complete opposite, still small in stature the way they carried themselves emanated nobility and class, and the beauty that radiated from them was like nothing I've ever seen, even the males were attractive.
The tropes were still the same though, dwarves in this world were excellent blacksmiths, forging most of the best equipment in the world, while most of the dwarven population lived underground mining away their lives. The elves were close to nature, not a single one of the ones I saw in town strayed to far from their bow. I experienced all of this new world through all my trips into town with my mother, at first she would carry me on her back, holding me tightly to her. That changed as soon as I gained the ability to walk, it didn't take me long to achieve it, mastering it in a mere three months. It was nothing to achieve, kinda like writing a bike, you never truly forget. My parents were flabbergasted at my progression, not only my physical but mental growth as well, easily completing any puzzle that they put in front of me. My parents hailed me as a genius parading me around town, they got even more excited when only a month later I said my very first word, "No!"
This was directed towards my mother Mary, this was when she kept trying to breastfeed me, so in a fit of rage, I shouted at her at the top of my lungs and turned away from her. My father Frankfurt was even more shocked than my mother and dropped a rather expensive-looking vase. My mother yelped and started to berate my father for his foolishness, my previous words are forgotten for the time, and the best thing that came from this was that my mother never tried to breastfeed me again.