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Asterion's eyes flew open to see myself floating in a vast void, moving at Ludacris speed. I realized that I could still breathe and see, the sensation both surreal and exhilarating.
This went on for a while, the emptiness stretching around me like an endless tapestry of stars, until I was suddenly pulled toward a planet teeming with greenery. The vibrant hues of emerald and jade rushed to greet me, promising life and adventure.
Then, everything faded to black.
When I regained consciousness, I found myself in a new, unfamiliar body — a newborn child, no more than three months old.
Asterion realized that he was in a basket in a body of a baby in the middle of the forest, with nobody around. Panic surged through him, a tide of dread that threatened to swallow him whole. He looked around, wide-eyed, taking in the towering trees that loomed like ancient giants, their shadows stretching ominously across the ground.
"What is this?" he thought. "Am I going to die as soon as I started my second life? Is this some kind of punishment to starve or be eaten alive by wild animals"
The weight of uncertainty pressed down on him, heavy and suffocating. His tiny heart raced, a frantic drumbeat echoing in the stillness of the forest. He squirmed in the basket, acutely aware of his vulnerability, the world around him feeling unwelcoming—a vast expanse filled with unseen dangers lurking just beyond the light.
He took a deep breath, the damp, earthy scent filling his lungs. The forest was alive with sounds — the rustle of leaves, the chirp of insects, and the distant call of a bird — yet it felt eerily empty, as if hiding something from him.
Asterion strained to hear any hint of life nearby, longing for someone, anyone, who could assure him he wasn't alone in this strange new reality. But the silence wrapped around him like a shroud, tightening its grip.
"Focus," he told himself, he felt foreign baby bables coming from m
His mouth that could barely form them. "You can't give up"
He shifted awkwardly in the basket, exploring the confines that held him. The forest was beautiful in its green abundance, yet it felt like a labyrinth, each shadow holding secrets he couldn't yet comprehend. What had happened to him? Why was he here?
As he lay there, the truth began to seep into his awareness, chilling him to the core. All of this—the vibrant life, the towering trees, the promise of adventure of a new life—could be taken away from him in an instant. He was nothing more than an abandoned child, left to the whims of fate by parents who had disappeared into the night. Deadbeats, perhaps, or worse—those who had chosen to leave him behind in this vast green wilderness.
Suddenly, he heard the sound of thumping growing closer and closer, and with it came a surge of painful memories. At first, there were only sounds—distant murmurs and hushed conversations—then blurry visions began to take shape. He saw two people, both malnourished and starving, yet they always managed to feed him. This cycle went on for days until the food eventually ran out.
The woman looked at him, her expression a mixture of despair and determination, but she did not do anything to change their situation. She went on with her usual business outside, accompanied by the man who was most likely his father. He would come in occasionally to check on Asterion, but his visits were brief and filled with worry.
As a baby, Asterion could not do much but try to move around, his tiny body constrained by the limitations of infancy. But soon, he started to understand what his parents were talking about. Their conversations were laced with a heavy sense of dread as they spoke about their dwindling food supply, the worsening drought, and the increasing violence among the people.
They expressed their fears about the order and knights not coming to help, their voices tinged with hopelessness. Each word sank deep into Asterion's mind, forming the foundation of a reality that was both terrifying and all too real. He felt their anxiety seep into him, a weight that pressed down on his small frame, leaving him with an unsettling sense of foreboding.
Then one day, only my mother returned. She had a weird look on her face, yet she carried with her a lot of meat. The sight both startled and intrigued Asterion. She quickly cooked it into a soup, the aroma filling the small space and awakening a deep hunger within him. She fed him, her hands gentle and careful, and afterward, she went to sleep, exhaustion etched on her face.
But the next day, things did not continue as normal. She fed him again, then bathed him, her touch tender and loving. Once she had finished, she placed him in a basket, wrapping him snugly in a cloth that smelled faintly of herbs and warmth. As she started to move, Asterion could only see the shriveled trees that loomed nearby at first, their twisted branches reaching up like skeletal hands.
Then he caught sight of the vast blue sky, stretching endlessly above him, a stark contrast to the dark reality of his surroundings. The openness of the sky filled him with a sense of wonder even as uncertainty gnawed at his little heart.
This continued for about three months. The food had already run out half a month ago, and now we had arrived in a lush forest. But my mother was too weak to hunt anything, so she foraged around to gather food to feed me. Only after this dumb baby body of mine ate did she smile while feeding me, then consume whatever was left. But the next day, she came back with a wound across her leg, and it looked very bad.
She sat close to me, holding me in her arms, her warmth providing a sense of safety despite the grim circumstances. I felt her heartbeat against my tiny frame, a reassuring rhythm that calmed my worries. Soon, my body succumbed to exhaustion, and I fell into a careless sleep.
When I awoke, I found myself back in the basket, and my mother looked panicked as two men, both starved and ragged, moved toward our direction. Fear surged within me, and I instinctively reached out for her, but she grabbed a rock that she had sharpened, her expression resolute despite the fear in her eyes.
She leaned down, kissed me on the head, and whispered, "Stay here." With that, she slowly moved away, leaving me in the clearing, her figure retreating into the shadows of the trees.
I watched her go, feeling a mix of dread and helplessness. Soon, I heard screams echoing through the forest, chilling my tiny heart. The sounds of struggle pierced the air, and then suddenly, silence enveloped the clearing. I was left alone, my mind racing with confusion and fear, wondering what had just happened and if I would ever see her again.
After this, I felt only pity and sadness for my parents.
But my body reacted badly, letting out a cry that echoed through the stillness of the forest. The sound attracted the attention of some people on horses who were approaching me.
All of them were heavily armored, their imposing figures casting long shadows as they approached. One among them wore the robes of a priest, the contrasting attire both unsettling and intriguing. The priest's garments were adorned with symbols that glinted in the dappled sunlight, a stark reminder of authority and power.
The knights searched the surroundings, only to see the horrifying sight of a half-eaten corpse, distinctly dressed in women's clothes. The knights looked at me with no emotion, their faces masked by their helmets, as if they were mere machines devoid of compassion. One of them glanced at the priest, who dismounted from his horse and approached the gruesome scene.
He knelt down, chanting something under his breath, his voice low and rhythmic. As his words filled the air, I felt a deep pain rise within me, a sensation like a trapped animal struggling to escape. The priest looked surprised by my reaction, but without saying anything, he handed me to one of the biggest knights there, a towering figure clad in heavy armor.
With that, they continued their journey, the weight of my new reality settling over me like a heavy cloak. The sound of hooves echoed through the forest as they marched forward, each step taking me further away from the only warmth I had known in this life.
The knight's hands were rough as he held me, his grip firm yet careful. The sword at his side would make a clinking sound with every movement of the horse.
Soon, they came to a stop in front of a village that was shrouded in thick, black smoke. The acrid scent of burning wood and something far more sinister hung in the air, stinging my nostrils. Shadows flickered at the edges of my vision, and the oppressive atmosphere pressed down on me, filling me with unease. The once vibrant village now appeared lifeless, its structures cloaked in a veil of darkness, as if the very essence of life had been snuffed out.
The knight handed me over to the porter in their group, and all the knights and the priest donned their battle armor. I was very surprised when I saw the priest wielding a mace, the heavy armor gleaming in the dim light. But then I witnessed something even more stunning: the priest released a golden light that enveloped his weapon, casting a warm glow that contrasted sharply with the surrounding darkness.
Once they were fully equipped, the knights formed a tight formation, their expressions resolute as they prepared for the impending confrontation. The porter hugged me tightly, shielding me from view, and I could feel the tension radiating from him. I wanted to see what was happening, but he kept me close, not allowing me to glimpse anything else.
Then came the horrifying screeches that pierced the air, followed by the thunderous sound of hundreds of feet pounding against the ground. The noise reverberated through my tiny frame, a cacophony of chaos that sent chills down my spine. I clung to the porter, fear swelling within me as I realized something was coming for us, something dark and menacing that threatened to shatter this fragile moment of silence.
After the sounds of the grueling battle went on for a few more moments, silence fell over the clearing, heavy and suffocating. The air was thick with smoke and the acrid scent of burning debris, a reminder of the chaos that had just transpired. Soon, the knights carried one of their comrades, whose arm was badly mutilated, the injury a gruesome testament to the violence they had just faced. The man's eyes seemed glossed over, a vacant stare that sent a chill through me, a reminder of the fragility of life in this dark and dangerous world.
One of the knights knelt beside him, a sense of urgency in his movements as he poured some kind of powder over the injured warrior, a strange aura that flickered around them like a beacon of hope in the aftermath of despair. They then asked the porter to bring over a piece of wood, instructing him to place it in the knight's mouth to prevent him from biting his own tongue off in his agony.
The priest approached, his demeanor calm yet commanding, wielding a clean knife that glowed with a red light, an ominous yet mesmerizing sight. Without hesitation, he cut off the knight's injured arm, and the knight started screaming in pain, the sound raw and visceral, echoing through the clearing. In that moment, I instinctively flinched, feeling the pain resonate deep within me. The knight bit down on the piece of wood, gritting his teeth to stifle his cries, his face contorted in anguish.
The priest began to chant some kind of hymn or spell—I could not tell which—but the incantation seemed to resonate through the air, filling the space with an otherworldly energy that pulsed with intensity. Each word he uttered felt like a thread woven into a tapestry of healing, a promise that life could triumph over death. The hymn caused the knight's arm to grow back, a miraculous sight that left me breathless, unable to comprehend the sheer power on display before me.
Soon, the glossiness returned to his eyes, the vacant stare replaced by a flicker of awareness, and he passed out, the tension in his body finally releasing. The priest looked a little winded from the miracle he had just performed, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead as he returned to his horse, taking a moment to gather himself.
Meanwhile, the knights began to set fire to the village, flames licking hungrily at the wooden structures, consuming all remnants of the chaos that had unfolded. The bodies of the monsters lay scattered, their dark forms smoldering as the blaze grew. The crackling of the fire mixed with the night sounds of the forest, a chilling reminder that life and death danced hand in hand in this unforgiving world.