My name is Gautama, but everyone calls me Sid. I don't have any friends or family. I don't know where I come from or where I'll go and do. I was born somewhere I don't know. I was never told, and I never asked. I do know where I grew up, though. It started in Europe, specifically in Germany, and from there, I was passed around for my entire childhood.
No one could do anything with me. I was emotionless throughout. I didn't see any purpose in what we were doing. I didn't have a home, a family, friends, loved ones, likes, dislikes ... I was a blank piece of paper that no one wanted or could write on.
I say this in the past tense because I finally died. I don't know how that came to be. I think I was following what that monk was telling me about meditation and then ... nothing. I must have blacked out, or maybe I was killed? It doesn't matter. I wasn't leaving anything behind, because I never owned anything anyway. No one would miss me. No one would remember me, and no one would care.
The only thing I ever had was my name. Sid. Gautama was the name I chose for myself one time I was asked what my family name was. I'm not sure why or how I came up with that name, but it just so happened that it came to mind, and it stuck with me.
.
This brings me to the current situation. I am 'floating' or 'flowing' might be the more accurate term, through this endless stream that has nothing in it. I feel like this might tell me something, but I'm not sure what that might be. I never really liked riddles. I preferred to just let my thoughts wander and see what happens. However, I did enjoy the meditation that the monk showed me, no matter how short it was.
{.id.....a}
Hm? What was that? I thought I heard something. I listen and look around here, but there is no one here. Again, I hear that voice.
{.idd..ta}
What is that? Wait! I think ... there is something. At the end of this stream, I believe I see something. A silhouette of a person or something similar. I feel the stream slowing down as I approach this person. And then the stream finally stops. I have arrived at the end of the stream. I feel ... sad that it's over. It was a nice journey.
{Siddharta}
"Huh? So you are the one who called me. What do you want?"
{So you can finally hear me. Good. I have been waiting for you, Siddharta.}
"My name is Sid. What's your name?"
{You're wrong. Your name is Gautama Siddharta. You were never meant to stay as long as you did in that world, but for some reason, it happened. I am here to give you what should have been yours, to begin with.}
The silhouette says, and two vials appear before me. I look back at the person with a questioning gaze.
{These are Meta Essence vials. They contain what should belong to you. But I remember you never read any fanfiction or comics and the like. So you don't know what these are.}
"You're right. I never saw meaning in those things. People were so absorbed in those and forgot the real world was different. I thought I might find meaning, but never in stories such as those."
{You are correct. It can be harmful if consumed in excess. So, let me explain this to you very briefly. These two vials are Meta Essences. They grant you certain abilities, which can vary depending on which ones you consume. The two I have here are the Essence of the Honoured One and the Essence of Unlimited Potential. These are the ones that you should have gotten anyway, but something went wrong. You will consume these two, and I will then send you on your way. A great journey awaits you, and I hope that you will find the happiness you have always wanted.}
"I see. And what are these powers that I will gain? They sound intriguing, especially the first one, but I am not sure I am willing to accept something and not think that it will cost me anything."
{This won't cost you anything, because these two already belong to you anyway. So don't worry and just take them. What you gained yourself doesn't cost anything, not this time.}
"Excuse me then," I say and take the first vial. I open it and then drink it in one go. The taste... is good. It tastes like... home, like something you knew but can't say what it is. Then I took the second one and drank it as well. The second one had no flavour for some reason. It was just... empty. Like drinking nothing.
{That concludes our short meeting, Siddharta. I hope you have fun out there. I'm sure we'll meet again someday. But make sure not to come back too soon, alright?}
"Sure, thank you, I guess."
.
.
When I opened my eyes again, I noticed the scenery had changed. I seemed to be in the body of a baby. I wondered who might find me there, lying on the ground in the woods. Why a baby would be there was a mystery to me. But for some reason... I could see the answer to that question. It simply came to me after I wanted to know.
I was picked up by slave traders who were on their way to sell their "merchandise." Quite a rough start to this new life of mine. Oh well, I'll see where it takes me.
I was quite a pretty baby and, later, child—or at least that was what I had been told. Contrary to what I expected, I wasn't sold into slavery. Instead, I was taken in by a woman called May. She was a gentle person with a good heart… or so she wanted everyone to believe. In truth, she ran a little business on the side where she gathered lost and abandoned children, raised them, and then sold them to the "Auction."
That was how I ended up in the "Human Auction House," with an explosive collar around my neck and a cage for my home, at the tender age of two. I wasn't the only one; there were many others as well. I was surprised at the variety of different races in this world, though it seemed no one else found it unusual. From what I had gathered, this "Human Auction House" was located on an island that wasn't really an island at all.
My comprehension and understanding had skyrocketed since my rebirth. I didn't know why, but it was a welcome change. Another thing I noticed was how eerily calm I felt about everything—and with good reason. I didn't really care. It mattered little to me. I would see how things went and adapt from there. I disliked the idea of being a slave, of course, but I wasn't strong enough to do anything about it.
"Oi, pretty boy, what are you thinking so hard about? Don't even try it. There's no getting out of these explosive collars, believe me. Unless you're interested in blowing up your pretty neck?" a big man said to me. He was also one of the slaves to be sold that day.
"What are you looking at, kid?"
"You."
"Aha, and why is that?"
"No reason. I'm just interested in why you're here. Did slave traders capture you as well?"
"No. I couldn't pay off my debt, and the loan shark's goons captured me. This is pretty much my own fault," the man sighed.
"Can you tell me more about the place we're in?"
"You don't seem very scared right now. Do you understand what it means that you're here? You will be sold into slavery, boy. And from the looks of you, I wouldn't be surprised if some rich noble takes a fancy to you and makes you warm their bed. Disgusting bastards, the lot of them."
"Nobles? From a kingdom of some kind?"
"You really don't know anything, do you?"
"I'm two years old this year."
"..."
"..."
"I see. Well, then, my mistake. This world is ruled by what we call the World Government. There are many different kingdoms across the seas, but those who stand at the very top are the World Nobles, also called the Celestial Dragons," the man began his tale vaguely.
"Dragons? So, like a different species? Are those real?"
"Not real dragons like you're imagining. The World Nobles have the highest authority within the World Government. They're free to do as they please without consequence—even commit heinous crimes. If they are threatened in any way, they can summon a Marine Admiral to deal with the offender."
"Marine? Admiral? What is that? Like a government official?"
"Haha, yes, something like that. They're the lapdogs of the World Government. The Marines are the ones who hunt pirates across the world and imprison or kill those who threaten its rule. They're supposed to keep the peace, but they're glorified dogs."
"And a Marine Admiral is a high position, then?"
"Yes. A Marine Admiral is the second-highest position and a true powerhouse in this world. The only one higher is the Fleet Admiral, who commands the entirety of the Marines and answers only to the World Government."
"I see."
"You still seem very calm about all this. Maybe I wasn't clear before—you're going to become a slave. If you're unlucky and a World Noble attends, one of them might buy you. And you, with your looks… well, I dread what they'd do with you.
The World Nobles practice slavery, using wanted pirates, people, and other races as servants, trophies, and 'pets.' To mark them as slaves, the Celestial Dragons brand them with a symbol called the 'Hoof of the Soaring Dragon,' forever branding them as 'less than human.' Slaves are treated particularly horribly. Owners—especially Celestial Dragons—buy them to work them to the bone, threatening them with death for failure or resistance of any kind.
And get this. Celestial Dragons own slaves in broad daylight, a practice that is supposed to be illegal under the World Government itself. And yet, do you know what happens when slaves manage to flee? Marines hunt them down and return them to their masters. KIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
"Hahahahahahaha, that is pretty funny," I had to laugh at the irony. The man stopped laughing when he saw me joining in. He looked at me strangely, as if he were watching an alien.
"You're a strange one, kid. Are you not right in the head? I feel like you didn't understand what I said."
"No, I understood. But getting depressed about a situation like that is unwise and useless. I prefer to take things as they are and change whatever I can—or want to. It makes life simple."
"And how are you going to do that when you're a slave?" he asked me skeptically.
"I'm only two years old. It stands without question that I'll grow stronger with time. No one says I'll stay a slave forever. Who knows—maybe something interesting will happen."
"... You are indeed crazy. But I enjoy talking to you. What's your name, kid?"
"My name is Gautama Siddharta. But you can call me Sid."
"Sid, eh? Well then, Sid, it's been nice meeting you, and I hope your dreams come true. My name is Ronald. Maybe you'll remember it—but it's not necessary."
"I'll remember for sure. Don't give up hope, Ronald," I said, as a burly man walked in and opened my cage. He grabbed me and dragged me toward the stage, ready to present me and sell me to the highest bidder.
I was interested to see what would happen.
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This is a rewrite.