Warmth.
That was the first thing I felt.
Not the gentle kind, but a heavy, all-encompassing warmth that wrapped around me from every direction. My body felt small. Weak. Like I was floating in something soft.
Then came the light.
Too bright.
Too sharp.
My eyes—if I even knew what eyes were—burned as the world flooded in. Shapes blurred together. Colors smeared like wet paint. I tried to close them, but even that felt difficult.
Sound followed.
Loud.
Messy.
Unfamiliar.
Voices overlapped in strange rhythms I couldn't understand. The tones rose and fell, sometimes soft, sometimes excited. None of it meant anything to me—only that the noise existed.
My body twitched.
I didn't know why.
Arms flailed. Fingers curled. A weak sound escaped my mouth.
Crying.
I didn't know the word, but my body did.
"Shh… shh, it's alright," a gentle voice said.
Something warm and soft pressed against me. A steady rhythm—thump, thump—vibrated through my tiny frame. The brightness dimmed as I was cradled closer, wrapped in fabric that smelled faintly of herbs and clean linen.
The voice continued, calm and tired, yet full of care.
I couldn't understand it.
But it felt… safe.
My vision slowly improved over time.
Not clearly just enough to recognize shapes.
One of them hovered close to me often.
Long hair, dark purple in color, usually tied back to keep it out of her face. Her eyes were gentle, the kind that looked tired but never cold. Faint shadows rested beneath them, as if sleep had been rare lately.
She wore simple clothes nothing fancy, just the kind a common villager would own. Her hands were warm, rough in places from work, but always careful when holding me.
Whenever she looked at me, her expression softened.
She was… important.
I didn't know the word mother, but my body seemed to recognize her.
Then there was the other one.
The loud one.
A tall figure with messy dark hair and striking red eyes that always seemed full of energy. He moved too much, talked too loudly, and laughed like the world was a joke only he understood.
Every time he leaned over me, he made ridiculous faces.
His eyes went wide.
His mouth twisted strangely.
Sometimes he even crossed his eyes.
"Look at that! She's staring at me!" he said in an excited tone.
I had no idea what he was saying.
But his face was… interesting.
So I stared.
"Hey! She likes me more than you!" the man laughed.
The woman sighed. "Stop teasing the baby."
He only grinned wider.
"She's gotta learn early that I'm the fun one."
He leaned closer again.
"Right, little girl?"
I blinked.
His face was strange.
But not scary.
Days passed.
Or maybe hours.
Time didn't exist for me yet.
I slept.
I woke.
I listened.
I stared.
The world slowly became less bright, less overwhelming.
I still didn't understand the voices. The language was completely foreign. Every word sounded like noise with no meaning behind it.
But one thing was clear.
I was small.
I was helpless.
And this world was not the one I remembered.
Somewhere deep inside, a faint awareness stirred.
This isn't where I used to be.
But the thought was weak, drowned out by exhaustion.
For now, all I could do was exist.
Cradled in warmth.
Surrounded by unfamiliar voices.
Watching a strange red-eyed man make faces at me.