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Alden's world was in shambles.
It was like living in a kaleidoscope of broken impressions. Disjointed, fragmented, too sharp and too vague to take in all at once. Nothing he saw stayed still long enough to be grasped. Colors blended, sounds echoed without source, and light came in flashes that meant little.
His perception was shattered into bite-sized pieces, only small enough for his raw, newborn brain to taste. He could see, technically, but it was like watching memories through a muddled puddle of water.
His mind was tugged and pulled. Drowned with an aggressive drowsiness that surpassed even Limbo's whispers.
Every moment awake causes meaningless, panging headaches.
So he stopped trying.
Most of the time, Alden's consciousness drifted. Sleep became the default state, a lull between moments, his body breathed without needing a command.
He was lost in a body too new, burdened with consciousness too heavy.
But one thing clawed through the murk with stubborn clarity.
He is alive.
***
'System…'
Alden thought fleeted from his grasp as he did his best to hold on.
It was a rare moment of consciousness that sleep had agreed to. A moment that he could not let go to waste as his consciousness eagerly woke up.
For the first time in a long while, Alden felt air touching his skin. Filling his lungs with a momentary sense of vitality relief that he didn't know he missed.
He lazily opened his eyes.
The world was still a soft hazy, spinning and muted that caused him to be a bit nauseous, but Alden could discern a green field of grasses and flowers spanning.
It was this smell. The smell that he noticed when he first stepped in the portal.
'System, help...'
It took him all effort to gather his thoughts to form a comprehensive plea.
[ Hello, Alden. ]
The system responded with a simple greeting.
'Off… load…progress…'
[ Offloading Alden consciousness to the system: 59% ]
This was something that was hypothesized by Asta to be possible during one of his helpful moments. Asta recommended using the help of the system to transfer memory to the soul and reinforce consciousness. If not, 'Alden Vaughn' would be forced to sleep for a long time waiting for the baby brain to develop.
Well, thankfully, the hypothesis was confirmed, and the system is doing its job properly.
To be honest, Alden was astonished. With the tangible drowsiness he was under, he felt as if he were in a coma. It was concerning.
Alden didn't remember what being a baby felt like, but this certainly wasn't normal.
He felt like no baby would be able to live under this state.
How is he eating? How is he drinking?
Concerning questions popped up simultaneously, threatening to send Alden's consciousness into a spiral.
[ Offloading user consciousness to the system: 60% ]
As if to reassure him, another update window popped up.
Still, it probably would not be done anytime soon. He would probably sleep for a while more.
"□□□ □□□..."
Before he could spiral any further, a tender sound, barely louder than the wind rustling entered Alden's ears. A woman's voice, speaking in a language Alden has never heard. Warmth wrapped each of her words like a comfortable blanket.
Soon, a figure leaned in within his field of view, the gentle shifting made Alden aware that she was the one holding him up within this grass field.
"□□□ □□□ □□□" She whispered, her finger reaching in to brush back a strand of hair from Alden's forehead. Her touch felt rough, calloused.
Alden's infant attention was briefly distracted and fixated on her action. His eyes fluttered and followed her fingers.
Until they found her.
Unlike what was indicated by her hand, the woman in front of him was the most beautiful existence Alden had ever seen.
She stared at him in silent patience. Her head positioned to shield away any sunlight that could blind him, her hair spilled down in waves.
She was beautiful. Not in the way people spoke of beauty.
No.
She was unreal, ethereal. Something akin to a dream. An incredible dream.
'System… decipher language…'
He thought to himself, staring back at her gentle gazes.
[ Analyzing language: 11% ]
As though noticing Alden inquisition eyes, the woman's lips parted to a gentle smile. Somehow, it felt sad.
She felt familiar.
Despite not knowing who she was, Alden felt safe sitting in her embrace.
"□□□…" She whispered again, her soft words dancing in the air like a lullaby to Alden's ears.
Unfortunately, he was unable to enjoy her presence for longer, as the world once again gradually turned black against his will.
The last thing he saw was her black eyes, glimmering like she was about to cry.
He remembers trying to reach out.
***
[ Offloading user consciousness to the system: 100% ]
Alden drifted to the surface of wakefulness like a leaf floating up through deep water. No sharp jolt, no clear beginning—just an easing into awareness.
He first felt a shift. Cool air once again kissed his cheeks, laced with the softest hint of flowers and grasses. The quiet hush of rustling leaves poured into his ears, steady and endless, like distant waves breaking against a shore he couldn't see.
As sight returns, he sees a tree towered above everything, ancient and commanding, as though it had stood long before memory began. Its trunk was broad and thick, bark dark and ridged with deep grooves that spiraled upward like winding rivers frozen in wood. Moss clung in patches to its roots and lower trunk, softening the rugged texture with a velvety green. The roots themselves sprawled outward in thick, sinewy coils, half-sunken into the soil and half-exposed, like colossal serpents resting in a tangle. Its leaves, broad and deep green, overlapped densely to form a sprawling canopy far overhead. Light filtered through them in shifting mosaics, dappling the ground with soft gold and muted jade.
Beneath its shade, the air felt cool and quiet. The world itself hushed to honor the sentinel standing watch. The shade gathered close, wrapping Alden in a cocoon of green tranquility.
Next, Alden felt warmth beneath him—steady and soft. Someone's arms were holding him underneath the tree, resting gently against his back. His head rested against something soft.
He blinked, lids heavy and dry from long slumber. Vision blurred but thankfully didn't fracture. The world pulsed vivid and rich, too much at first, but still manageable. His gaze traveled upward sluggishly.
A hand stroked across his forehead— familiar patient and rough fingertips. His cheek leaned into the palm instinctively, breath hitching.
His sluggish eyes once again found their way to her.
The familiar woman sat with her back against the broad trunk, his small frame curled in her lap. Her head bowed, dark lashes resting against her cheeks, her breathing deep and even. Strands of ink-black hair cascaded over her shoulder, surrounding him like a silken curtain.
Even in rest, her face was so majestic.
Her scent drifted to him—wildflowers, warm soil. She smells cozy, home.
Alden knew it instinctively.
She was his mother in this life.
Alden's throat thickened unexpectedly. A dull foreign ache swelling behind his ribs. His fingers twitched weakly, then instinctively curled around one of hers.
In response to his touch, her lashes stirred.
He swallowed hard, a dry rasp leaving his throat. No words yet—just breath and effort.
Slowly, her eyes opened. Brown, deep and endless, edged in gray steel. It took a heartbeat longer for her gaze to fully register him. She blinked, her brows drawing slightly as she lifted her hand again to his cheek.
Her palm cupped his jaw, thumb tracing delicately beneath his eye.
"Al." She smiled at his gaze, her voice was a cracked whisper.
Again, her voice contained a sadness that betrayed her gentle demeanor.
Alden blinked slowly. Then again. Barely, imperceptibly, he tightens his small grip. This time with a silent intention. His eyes unblinking.
It was a bit foreign to call her his mom, but Alden still instinctively didn't want to see her sad.
"Al?" She whispered again, this time with clear, widened eyes. Her voice carried a tint of surprise.
Alden smiled internally at her surprise. It was given that she was surprised, the baby Alden was probably too busy sleeping to do something so considerate.
He lightly tightened his grip again as a response to her word.
He wanted to do his best to console her, whatever she is sad about. He wanted to show his silent support.
Well, while initially surprising, Alden expected his action to have minimal impact.
He was wrong.
Reacting to his simple actions, her breath caught sharply. Her lips parted in a gasp that broke into a trembling smile. Her fingers slid reverently across his brow, his cheek, the curve of his jaw. Then, she gathered him closer, pressing her face into his soft hair as her shoulders shook with quiet, suppressed sobs.
"You're here… you're really here," she murmured. She didn't speak louder than a whisper, afraid to break the fragile tether of his consciousness.
Her hold wavered, hesitating between pulling him closer and not daring to hurt him.
With a puzzled mind, Alden let himself soften into her touch, his small body melting against her warmth.
Moments passed, slow and rich, as mother and son remained curled beneath the vast shade. Her hand stroked tenderly through his tousled hair, her breathing shallow and uneven.
That's when he noticed them.
At the edge of his vision—lights. Flickers. Movement that felt unnatural.
He turned his head to follow, peering past his mom's shoulder.
There, at the nearest tree branch, they hovered in the air.
Dozens of figures, probably no larger than his baby forearm. Their wings shimmered with iridescent hues—shifting and impossible, neither silver nor gold but something softer. Their skin varied from porcelain pale to deep bronze, and their eyes…
Their eyes glowed faintly, bright and unnatural, with slitted pupils like molten glass.
Alden froze.
His breath snagged sharply, a tremor running through him. His heart pounded unevenly in his chest.
His mind clawed for explanation. His muscles stiffened, his fingers unconsciously digging tighter into his mother's sleeve.
These creatures... This isn't real.
He was afraid.
Unbothered toward his reaction, the creatures floated effortlessly closer, wings humming softly like distant chimes. Their gazes locked onto him—sharp, assessing, curious—as Alden felt his whole nature being laid bare.
Alden flinched back slightly, confusion and fear battling in his throat.
One of them drifted closer, tilting her head. Her wings pulsed gently, refracting light in brilliant cascades.
Alden shivered. His body instinctively tried to push away from the tight bound, to create distance.
Reacting to his state, his mother stirred. Her brows knit slightly as she loosen her hug and glanced to where his gaze had fixed.
She did not look surprised.
On the contrary, she smiled.
"They've come to see you," she murmured softly to his ears. With a swift wipe to her cheeks and a turn, she deliberately puts Alden in a position facing the creatures. "These are fairies, Al."
The fairies circled lazily around them, their presence stirring grass. A soft ripple of energy shimmered through the ground, subtle but undeniable that caused Alden to furrow deeper into his mother's embrace.
His mother's thumb brushed his temple. "It's alright, love. They're not here to hurt you."
His breath still came quick, chest rising and falling unevenly, but he held still. His gaze darted between the hovering lights, wariness giving slow ground to wonder. His brows drew low, lips parting faintly.
The nearest fairy inched forward, her hands outstretched. Her fingers brushed against his—cool, soft, almost weightless.
A tingle sparked along his skin.
Alden blinked hard, throat working as he tried to breathe steadily. Slowly, his hand uncurled and reached back. Slowly.
The fairy smiled faintly.
A chime rang—bright and clear, like silver bells tossed into the wind. Excitement rippled through the gathered fairies.
"They'll bring your father now." She smiled at Alden, parting away a strain of hair that was blocking his view.
At her words, one of the fairies darted quickly through the trees, vanishing beyond the clearing.
Alden, on the other hand, didn't fully process the words. His mind still reeling too fast at the unreal scene. He gripped her sleeve tighter again, still watching the strange gathering of creatures with wide, cautious eyes.
Minutes stretched long and golden beneath the great tree's shade.
The fairies danced in the air, a couple quickly gathered into a crowd that crammed his vision.
Some gathered their courage and came closer, touching his hand, nose, ears, or feet. Each time they do, Alden would make an effort to respond with the warm encouragement from his mom. Each time, the fairies would chime with excitement and quickly return to the rowdy crowd.
Fears have long turned into curiosity as Alden looks at them with excitement.
He was really living in another world. Experience things that people of Earth imagined.
It was a topic that was brushed away so quickly by Asta that Alden could only vaguely imagine. To experience it, though, was completely different.
The surreal atmosphere filled him with a wave of excitement as he temporarily forgot everything and simply enjoyed childish curiosity.
Then—footsteps.
Disrupting the sound of buzzing wings was hurried footsteps toward their direction.
His mother's eyes brightened, lifting toward the sound.
Brushed against the grass field underneath, a tall man was rushing at them. His silhouette sharp and clean against the filtered light. Dirty yellow hair tousled and swept back, his robe-like worn cloth fluttering in the air. His movements were swift but precise, each step purposeful.
Soon, he was a step in front of them.
His tired red gaze fell instantly on Alden, then it softened.
He approached with another step, then kneeled down to their level. His hand reached out, coming to rest gently on top of Alden's small head.
"Well," he spoke, voice deep and smooth. "There you are."
His thumb reach down to brushed Alden's brow tenderly. A smile blooming on his tired face, piercing green eyes somehow shining, feeling even more unnatural than that of the fairies. A long scar ran across his left eyes, deeply etched and still red, giving him a bit of an eerie feel.
Yet, his gentle gaze left Alden feeling warm.
This man is Alden's father. A familiar feeling, albeit less than what he felt with his mom.
With another silence moment passing, calculating features finally melted with relief as the man's gaze flickered to his wife.
Alden blinked up at him. Curious, but still steady between his parents.
They didn't exchange any words, only warm gazes, before both turning their attention back toward Alden.
Something was wrong.
Alden suddenly felt his spin tingle as he looked back at the smiling couple.
He saw these gazes before. They were not simple gazes of love.
They were eyes of guilt and pity.
Directed toward Alden.
'System, open status window.'
He issued a silent command. He needs to know why.
A translucent window flickered open. Along with it comes some other unfortunate updates.
[ A lot of gods disapprove of your birth ]
[ Status ailment 'Cursed' was registered. Some stats receive correction ]
[ Fortuna, Goddess of Luck, gave you her blessing ]
===Status===
Name: Alden Dane Drukas
Status: Cursed
Age: 1
Race: Sylvan-Blooded
Title: 1st Apostle of Adventure
Gift: Puppeteer (Sealed)
Overall Rank: G
Strength: 1 / 100
Dexterity: 1 / 100
Stamina: 1 / 100
Mana affinity: Sealed
Intelligence: 22 / 100
Luck: 1000
Charm: 9
———————————
Active skill: None
———————————
Passive skill:
[Resistance - G] (*New): Acquired by suffering under a horrible curse since birth and survived! You gain minor resistance to all hostile external forces.
Mastery: 87%
[Divine Revelation - S]: As an apostle of Heaven. You will heed your God's instructions, following their will. Whenever and wherever. It is now possible to communicate with the Lord you serve.
Mastery: 20%
[Adventure Affinity - SS]: You are likely to encounter an adventure.
Trigger randomly based on 'Luck' status.
[Luck's Blessed - SSS]: Blessed of Fortuna. Luck is fixed at the maximum value. The probability of success of every action executed is raised by 50%.
Mastery: 1%□□□
============
Alden choked on his breath.