The first thing he felt was a strange sensation—hands so massive they could engulf him entirely. They cradled him with a gentleness that belied their size, yet every fiber of his being screamed with sensitivity. Each touch, breeze, and sound hit him by ten folds. His mind swirled with confusion.
What's happening? Why am I… aware? What am I?
The overwhelming sensation made him freeze, unable to process the situation. He heard muffled cries, followed by a chorus of cheers—if he could even call them that. The sounds were garbled, jumbled even, though it carried a rhythmic pattern suggesting it to be a language of some sorts.
Calm down… calm down… he thought, though the panic was evident. Why am I so conscious? This feels… familiar, but I know I've never experienced this before. What's going on?
He forced his eyes open, and the world came into focus—or as much as it could through his new, underdeveloped vision. The first thing he saw was a woman, her face lined with age yet softened by a kind smile. Her black hair streaked with gray framed her face, and her dark pupils focused entirely on him.
She's holding me… he realized, noticing how small he was compared to her. Wait… am I a baby?
The elder woman said something to him, her tone soothing, though the words were incomprehensible. He glanced around, trying to piece together his surroundings. The room was decrepit. Wooden beams supported the structure, and the faint scent of damp earth and straw lingered in the air. People surrounded him, dressed in tattered clothing that spoke of poverty. The women wore ragged dresses, their hair tied back or held in nets, while the men donned loose, patched shirts and baggy pants.
The moment his gaze shifted to them, the crowd erupted in cheers.
Why are they so happy? he wondered. More importantly… why am I so aware? Is this some sort of reincarnation? But if so, wouldn't I have memories from a past life? Why does this feel… cyclical, like I've done this before?
"He's beautiful, ma'am," the elder woman said as she wiped him clean with a rough cloth. She turned, passing him to another woman lying on a crude bed.
This new woman's appearance stunned him. She was young—mid-twenties, at most—with long, silky black hair and striking blue eyes with black feline slits that seemed to pierce through him. Black coyote-like ears twitched atop her head, and a faint beauty mark rested beneath her right eye. Despite her beauty, she looked utterly exhausted. Her red-rimmed eyes suggested tears or illness, and her body was frail and trembling.
She cradled him to her chest, smiling down at him. "He is," she whispered, her voice soft, but it almost permeated love.
This must be… my mother, Ao thought. He tried to focus on her face, but his heightened senses overwhelmed him again. Every sound of the room pressed down on him. The bed she lay on was stained with sweat, blood, feces and the remnants of childbirth.
Couldn't they have cleaned her first? he thought bitterly. This is too much—everything is too much. I don't know what's worse: the sensory overload, not understanding the language, or seeing her like this.
As he shifted his gaze, another figure caught his attention. Leaning against the far wall, a man stood with his arms crossed. He was broad and muscular, with a stern face framed by short, spiky white hair. Like the woman, he had coyote ears perched atop his head, twitching slightly as he observed the scene with his white pupils with black slits as well. He said nothing, his expression unreadable, though a glimmer of relief softened his features.
Is that my father? Ao wondered. He looks… disappointed? No, maybe I'm reading too much into it. This is all too much.
The elder woman interrupted his thoughts, raising her hand as she murmured a word: "Lodas."
A black gem on her bracelet glowed faintly, and suddenly, water and shadows materialized before her, splashing onto the bed. The liquid washed away the grime and blood, cleaning both the mother and the child in one fluid motion.
Magic? Ao's mind reeled. What was that?! How did she do that? This world… it's… incredible!
The elder woman finished her work and lowered her hand, her expression calm. She reached for a small, white cup and poured in a thick, green liquid that resembled medicine. "What will you name him, Mrs. Koi?"
The woman holding him—Koi—looked up at the man in the corner. He gave her a small smirk and nodded. Turning her attention back to the baby, Koi smiled warmly.
"Ao," she said softly. "Ao Hinoté."
The name echoed in his mind, but the overwhelming sensations finally pushed him to his limit. His head throbbed from the effort of processing so much, and he did the only thing his small, fragile body allowed him to do.
He cried. Loudly.
Koi chuckled, holding him close. "Shh… it's okay, little one," she murmured.
Ao cried, the sound reverberating through his tiny chest and echoing in the small room. Yet, as overwhelming as everything was, it felt oddly cathartic—natural even. So he continued, his small lungs wailing as the woman, whom he presumed to be his mother, held him close. Her warmth was a fragile comfort, and the gentle kisses she planted on his forehead helped ease the sensations inside him, if only slightly.
She cooed softly, her words incomprehensible but tender. I need to focus, Ao though. The first step is clear—learn the language. Then magic. Then… figure out how to survive.
He glanced around, taking in the humble surroundings again. The room's battered condition and the villagers' tattered clothing spoke volumes. These people had little, and food, he realized with a sinking feeling, would be hard to come by. Starvation isn't exactly how I'd like to go… Guess I'll need to learn quickly.
But as his thoughts began to race, the sharp pain returned—piercing. His sensitive mind was not ready to process so much so quickly.
Agh, no… not now! he thought, wincing internally. The more he tried to focus, the worse the pounding in his head grew, like a storm crashing against fragile walls. Then, without warning, he let out a loud, piercing cry that sent a ripple through the air.
A shockwave of energy burst from his tiny body, knocking over small items in the room and startling everyone present. The elder woman, the man in the corner, and even Koi froze, eyes wide in disbelief.
The strain overwhelmed him, and before he could comprehend what had happened, his vision blurred. Exhaustion dragged him down like an anchor, and he passed out, his small form slumping against Koi's chest.
Koi's panic was immediate. Her grip on him tightened protectively, her blue eyes darting toward the elder woman. "L-Lady Kanri! What just happened? Is Ao okay? Please, tell me he's okay!"
Kanri, after a moment of stunned silence, smile. She reached out, her hand brushing Koi's shoulder reassuringly. "He's more than okay, my dear," she said, her voice filled with awe. "Did you feel that? That force? That wasn't ordinary. Not even close."
"What do you mean?" Koi's voice trembled as she clutched Ao closer.
Kanri's gaze softened. "Your son… he's remarkable. To release such raw power, even unconsciously, as a newborn… It's unheard of. I think it's safe to say this village has just witnessed the birth of its first prodigy. No, to the world's first child blessed by the goddess herself."
Koi's breath caught, her fear mingling with an overwhelming sense of hope. She looked down at Ao, his tiny face peaceful in sleep, and felt tears welling in her eyes. "Blessed…" she murmured, her voice breaking. "My Ao…"
_________
The first week of being a baby were a strange mix of simplicity and chaos for Ao. On the surface, his days consisted of sleeping, feeding, and being cradled by his mother. Yet beneath that, his consciousness buzzed. He couldn't shake the strange warmth in his chest lingering like a heat that felt like a small flame steadily burning within him. At first, it had been overwhelming, like holding a heating pad too close, but over time, his body seemed to adapt, and the sensation became less intrusive.
When he regained consciousness after the strange shockwave incident, he spent days carefully observing the people around him. He learned that, like his parents, he had small coyote ears atop his head, although his were much smaller and still soft to the touch. It was a bizarre realization, but it quickly became normal in the context of his surroundings.
His mother, Koi, was loving and attentive, spending most of her time holding him close, feeding him, and resting. She was strong and independent in her own right, but Ao noticed she relied on her husband for many things—cleaning, cooking, tending to the vegetable garden, and managing the household. His father, in stark contrast, was distant and reserved. While Ao could sense a quiet love in the man's actions, his stoic demeanor suggested a hardened life, possibly shaped by military service or a similar discipline.
While the language barrier frustrated him endlessly, he was starting to recognize patterns in the way they spoke to him. Words like "no" and "stop" were becoming familiar, often repeated when he tried to wiggle out of Koi's arms or venture too far.
Ao also had a hypothesis. Babies, he reasoned, might hold immense potential in this world—an unformed energy waiting to be shaped. If I can use this early consciousness and start training my body or mind now, maybe I'll have an edge. I need to make progress.
One night, while Koi cradled him in her sleep, Ao made a decision. He waited until her breathing became slow and even, then carefully wiggled out of her arms, slipping onto the soft, hay-stuffed mattress. He landed on his back with a faint thud, holding his breath to ensure he didn't wake her. When she didn't stir, he began crawling toward the center of the room.
Magic exists here; I've seen it with my own eyes, Ao thought, recalling the elder woman, Kanri, summoning water and darkness with a simple word. But how do I even start?
He sat up, or at least tried to in his infant form, and stretched out a small hand. Mimicking what he'd seen Kanri do, he muttered the only word he remembered: "Lodas!"
Nothing happened.
Of course, he thought with a sigh. Maybe I'm missing something. She didn't use hand signs or anything complicated… just that word. There has to be more to it.
Determined, Ao tried again, his tiny hand shaking with effort. "Lodas!"
Again, nothing.
Fantastic. So much for baby prodigy. He frowned, his coyote ears twitching in annoyance. Maybe I need to understand how magic works in this world before I can even try. Or maybe there's some kind of energy I'm not tapping into. Either way, I need a different plan.
He let his hand drop and focused instead on the warmth in his chest. It pulsed faintly, a steady presence that he couldn't ignore.
Could this warmth be connected to magic? It's been there ever since the shockwave incident… Maybe this is some kind of pointer..
Ao closed his eyes and tried to focus on the sensation. It was strange—alive, almost—as if it had a rhythm of its own. It reminded him of a heartbeat, but deeper, more profound. He concentrated harder, imagining pulling the warmth outward.
For a brief moment, he thought he felt it stir, like a tiny ember flaring to life. Then his concentration broke, and the sensation receded, suddenly, due to his small body being underdeveloped, he was extremely tired after just doing that much. He didn't care, it was progress however small.
It's something, Ao thought, a flicker of hope sparking in his mind. I just need to figure out what it is and how to use it. Until then…
He sighed, crawling back toward Koi, who remained blissfully asleep. As he nestled into her arms again, he made a mental note. Focus on the language first. Magic can come later. One step at a time. Maybe in the process, I'll learn why I was this conscious despite being a newborn. Maybe it's a condition or.. a sign of something.. or a curse. The thought made his body shiver. No use in worrying about the unknown.