It felt like I spent aeons inside this place, dozing in and out of existence. Not that I wanted to leave you; it was warm and comfortable. Then again, who was I? It feels like I can remember something more than this place, even if it is vague. Though it feels like I shouldn’t, like I am going against the way things should be,.

Whatever I am now, I have never been it before. It's almost like I lack any physical manifestation. I can see myself if I look inward. I think I have almost invisible tendrils of energy, all wrapping around each other and pulsing in rhythm. Slowly, over time, they are binding each other tightly, and with each time they tie a knot, it feels as though a part of the fog I hadn't noticed before was lifted, even if lightly.

I am also not alone in whatever this place is. There are two other pulses. One is like mine and made of tendrils, and each time I wake up, they have bound themselves tighter together. Though that one's colour is dark grey, with glowing embers of crimson, it's almost like a dying fire. Every now and again, a tendril of theirs will touch one of mine and try to knot together, but both will quickly pull apart as if burning each other, fated to never touch.

The other energy is completely different, however. It is far stronger—almost overwhelming, in fact. And instead of a writhing mass of energy, it is crystallised into a sphere the colour of ice, with mesmerising patterns made of blues and whites. Though cold and frigid, its gentle, slower pulsing carefully gives us energy to feed off of, along with feelings of love and protectiveness that are aimed at me and the other pulse.

Eventually, I grew strong enough to stay awake for long periods of time. Over time, I figured out where I actually was. Once I had, I couldn’t help but think that this was weird. I mean, I am just a foetus, so how can I consciously think? Oh yeah, I grabbed that ability called soul cognition.

It essentially allowed one to think without a brain. When I saw it for only ten points, I thought, Why not? That’s a steal. It didn’t explain the mechanics of how it worked, so I had no clue what the limits were, but I was here, wasn’t I? Though I guess that because I didn’t really possess my full faculties until recently, I must not be able to maintain a complete consciousness solely on its own. Only a sort of awakened dream state. I mean, even now, I can’t really think straight.

I guess the only thing to do now is wait to be born, I guess. At least I’m going to have a twin brother or sister. Statistically speaking, probably a brother, but I guess a sister would be great as well. I’m also glad I have a mother who loves me; at least I think she does. This empathy ability should come in handy, though. I would really want to read, but that would cost like five hundred points, and besides, I always found the games where you had the ability to end with the protagonist being insane or a pervert, so empathy should be fine.

Also, what’s with the colour of my mom's and my siblings' souls, or are they magic cores? Is it their magical affinity? Then, going by colour logic, my sibling should be something like fire. No more; they look more like embers or a burnt-out fire. I guess I’ll just have to wait on that one. I do, however, know my mom is ice, though. I mean, it's pretty obvious from the colour and feeling that come off of her.

Well, if they are both colourful, why am I invisible? I mean, I am a spirit. I chose spirit because I could get a mid-grade spirit affinity for only ten points; a low grade of any other was twenty, and mid-grades were about seven hundred. Spirit affinity was usually symbolised by whatever colour the creator hadn’t found an element for. But then why is it invisible? Is it because all the others are taken? Meh, who cares?

Another thing that I have noticed is that while I can’t see the affinities of those outside our mother’s body, I can feel the emotions of those around her, even if faintly. Every now and again, one that feels like love for our mom and concern for us appears. Another is around her most of the time and has feelings of devotion and endearment for her, though she seems to have mixed feelings towards us, mostly jealousy though, but the harmless kind.

It's interesting how the empathic ability works. It's not like I can feel or see the actual emotions of others; it's almost like I just know what someone feels regarding another. It almost feels like another sense, on top of the seven we all have and that other people argue about. I guess that makes it my tenth.

This state continued for a long time; occasionally, I would get kicked by my sibling and kick back. Sometimes, when I felt someone nearby that I liked the emotions of, I would gently kick out my mother. However, there was one person I really hated. They had a mixture of hatred and envy towards my mom and pure killing intent towards us. I would make sure to be careful of them when they were born.

Speaking of that, it's getting rather cramped in here. I think that's a foot, or is it a hand? Who cares? I want to chew it.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

…

The hazy orange of the setting sun, slowly dipping below the horizon, illuminated a certain room of the grand palace of the Sorvio Kingdom. Inside that room was a royal consort, her Grace, Maeve von Winmon, who was currently giving birth to her second child.

Her cries of agony escaped the room, echoing through the hallway. On the other side, his majesty, George Americ von Foredal Hallzell Sorvio, was pacing back and forth with a worried expression on his face.

He paused when, for several minutes, the room was silent. After almost half an hour of silence, he headed for the door. He was a man of action, so he pushed the door open but froze when he saw the sight before him. Standing beside the bed was the royal healer, casting a powerful healing spell upon her grace.

However, upon seeing the state of his beloved, he almost dropped to his knees. Her pale, almost flawless skin had taken on a sickening purple hue, and her once mesmerising silver eyes now stared straight at him but lacked the lustre that he had cherished. He stood there, contemplating what life had left if she was to be no longer in it.

He was broken out of his trance by his loyal knight, Armond, who firmly gripped his shoulder and said in a stern voice, “Your Majesty. We must get her to the temple as soon as possible.”

“Take her,” he responded solemnly. The chances were small that a resurrection ritual would fail, but the chance still weighed heavily on his heart.

He then turned to a maid who held a swaddled prince in her arms. He gestured for her to hand the child over and asked, “What is it?”

She offered him the child before saying, “A boy, my king, and the other was also a boy.”

He looked at her with a shocked expression as he glanced at another maid holding a second child.

The King smiled slightly and looked down at his son, peacefully sleeping, unaware of the cruelty of the world. He then asked, “Which is older?” He had not expected twins, but that would explain why his beloved had passed. He could feel the new magic coming off of both. Childbirth in and of itself was risky. Let alone birthing a child who possessed a magical affinity. But for twins to be born, that would almost certainly kill the mother from mana exhaustion.

“The oldest is the one in your arms, my lord,” replied one of the maids. Both children had what looked like several bruises on their faces, along with stains of blood and a waxy goo that all newborns had. The wispy field of navy blue hair, resembling that of the kings, was slicked down smooth by the fluids covering the child. He looked at his other son and noticed that the child also possessed his hair, but it was far thinner, leaving the child almost bald.

He closed his eyes for a second before saying, “Summon Lady Amava, and let the ceremony begin. Also, have a second ritual prepared for the fifth prince.” As he passed the child back to the maid, He wanted to weep with a mixture of joy and regret, but he had things to do. Mourning could wait; it was best not to give up hope just yet.

In a large hall, stood an old woman wearing dark purple robes while leaving on a staff made of dried wood vines, wrapping around each other. She was located on the side of a large magical array, carved into the very marble of the palace floor.

As the king and his assistants entered, she smiled slightly and bowed her head slightly due to his entrance. A large barrel was presented, full of a thick pitch or tar-like substance. The king drew a dagger from his cloak and proceeded to slit his palm. And as several drops of blood entered the barrel, the colour changed from pitch black to a deep crimson red as the smell of iron filled the room.

The Fourth Prince was presented, and after a numbing charm was placed on the infant, a slit was made in their hand. They fussed slightly, but after a healing spell was cast and the wound closed, the child was lulled back into sleep.

The drops of blood collected were added to the barrel, and it almost began to ripple slightly, almost looking eager to receive the blood. After that, two knights proceeded to pour the whole barrel into a shallow trench, running around the exterior of the array.

The liquid almost seemed alive as it began to creep across the whole array. With the carving being over twenty feet in circumference, it winded its way across the intricate runes and ley lines, making up the array over the course of several minutes. Once it had, the colour changed once again to a golden-hued red.

After that, the mages, standing to the side, began to chant in unison.

"Sanguis et nexium, intertexantur,

Lumen veritatis nunc definietur.

Verbis potentiae, fiat,

Ostendatur vinculum stirpis eorum.

Ex complexu avorum,

Detegatur cognatio eorum, per tempus et spatium.

Ut liquor, sic fiat,

In hoc ritu, veritas revelata sit."

After silence fell upon the room, the glow began to increase. Once it reached its apoapsis, it began to subside steadily until it eventually ceased to glow at all, and the liquid was now a deep navy blue. The king smirked slightly while shaking his head. He knew the children were his, but this was for the benefit of the other nobles, so his new sons could be added to the line of succession.

He looked out one of the large, gothic-style windows, wondering if fate would allow any of his children to ever have peaceful lives. After all, his father had made the same promise, but that hadn’t happened.