"Breathe, Madam Ventis! Push! I can see the baby's head!" the middle-aged midwife called.
Ventis strained, forcing another push, her entire body trembling. She inhaled deeply and bore down again, sweat rolling down her brow.
After thirty agonizing minutes, the baby emerged — tiny, wriggling, and utterly perfect. The midwife scooped him up, her hands glowing softly as she cleansed and examined him.
"The child is healthy, Madam Ventis," she declared.
Ventis, still exhausted, smiled faintly. "Thank you, Martha. May I see him?"
"Yes, of course." Martha chanted softly, surrounding mother and child with a shimmering barrier of light. Swaddled snugly, the baby was placed in Ventis' arms.
Cradling her newborn against her chest, Ventis felt a rush of love. The baby wriggled and cooed softly.
That was magic! Baker thought, utterly amazed. Excitement bubbled inside him, prompting tiny, unintelligible baby noises. The effort drained him quickly, and he fell asleep.
When he awoke, still cradled against his mother, he realized he could think — and speak — with his adult mind intact.
"My baby… what shall we call you?" Ventis whispered. She lifted him gently, studying his tiny, wrinkled face.
You better give me a good name, Mom, Baker thought.
"Perhaps… Baker," she said softly. "You shall be named after my great-grandfather, a craftsman who raised our family from commoner to aristocrat."
Baker felt lukewarm. Not heroic, but serviceable. At least it isn't ridiculous.
He fussed, signaling hunger. Ventis tilted him to check and sniffed quickly.
"You're hungry, aren't you?" she asked.
Martha chuckled. "Yes, Madam Ventis. That seems likely."
"Oh! Of course." Ventis positioned him at her chest. Embarrassed for a moment, Baker gave in to hunger and began feeding. Warmth and comfort spread through him, and he drifted into sleep once full.
---
In his sleep, he dreamed.
Welcome, child of Ventis. Baker, is it? Not terrible… but hardly awe-inspiring, a familiar voice said.
Baker sat up in the dream, his adult voice clear. "Hello, Goddess Vespa. Is this a dream, or have you summoned me?"
"I have entered your dream. I wished to speak briefly. How is your new family?"
"So far… so good. My mother seems… compassionate and loving," Baker replied.
"Perhaps overly compassionate," Vespa said, a knowing glint in her emerald eyes. "Your mother struggled to conceive. You are her first child after years of trying. She feared she might never have one."
Baker's heart ached. To want a child so badly, and fear you cannot… that must be painful.
"Yes. Many stumble into motherhood without appreciating it. Others yearn for it and struggle. Life has been complicated for your mother. She was the last survivor of a noble house destroyed by war, and marrying your father was a blessing that preserved her life."
Baker sighed softly. She's had it rough… and so will I.
"Baker, you must sleep now, or your body may fail," Vespa warned.
"What!" he exclaimed, shocked.
"Your body is weak, but your soul is strong. The imbalance is dangerous. I must seal part of your soul and memories temporarily. In a few years, you will awaken fully."
"You scared me, Vespa," Baker admitted nervously.
"No need. The power I gave you caused this. I will protect you. When you begin to remember, I will appear again," she said kindly.
Vespa raised her hand. Golden symbols appeared, weaving around Baker's soul, sealing him gently. He sank deeper into sleep.
---
Vespa examined the sealed soul for a moment. Behind her, eleven figures emerged, each radiating a unique aura:
"Is it done, Mother?" asked Varun, God of Farming, his voice gentle and steady. "I hope he will grow strong in the fields… and in life."
"Yes, Varun. It is complete," Vespa replied.
"I suppose it's our turn," said Taren, God of Crafting, examining Baker's soul like a fine piece of wood. "May he carve wonders with his hands… and learn patience."
"Let his body and others heal with ease," said Althea, Goddess of Healing and Medicine, her voice soft yet firm.
"May his mind and will wield magic wisely," intoned Elyon, God of Magic, his gaze sharp, eyes glinting with curiosity.
"May he be strong if battle ever calls," said Kael, God of Combat, adjusting imaginary armor on his broad shoulders.
"May beasts aid him, and he treat them with respect," said Fenris, God of Beasts, a faint grin on his face as if already picturing the wild creatures.
"May he find joy in food, and nourish others with it," said Lyra, Goddess of Cooking, twirling her fingers as aromas floated around her.
"May he understand the hunt and survive in the wild," said Ronan, God of Hunting, low and steady, like the forest itself.
"May he move unseen when necessary," whispered Noctis, God of Shadows, playful smirk tugging at his lips.
"Let his skills flourish, every talent sharpened," said Cerys, Goddess of Skills, twirling her fingers, clearly enjoying the possibilities.
"May he understand commerce and the value of wealth," said Darius, God of Merchants, tapping his chin thoughtfully.
Suddenly, a new light appeared, forcing its way into Baker's soul — brilliant, golden, and unrestrained. Vespa gritted her teeth.
"Mother… who is that?" asked one of the gods, wide-eyed.
Vespa's eyes narrowed toward Earth, Baker's old home. The twelve others followed her gaze.
The presence was overwhelming, not dark but impossibly vibrant — a force that radiated sheer confidence and energy. The laughter that followed was enormous, bombastic, like an emperor unbound by rules or concern for order.
It rolled through the world like a storm of sunlight, echoing in every corner. The mysterious god remained unnamed, but their energy was unmistakable: carefree, exuberant, unstoppable, and fully alive.