Maybe 'Hell' isn't the best descriptor of this place I'm in.
As a man who believes in atleast the basic concepts of christianity, for a good week I thought I had been truly punished for my sins and had been reborn in hell.
After that week had passed, I couldn't believe my eyes, my clearly worried mother had taken me outside this morning to meet some sort of priest at a church building, though it resembles nothing like earth, He quickly assured her nothing was wrong with me, I persume, but that was mostly because I was stunned by the sight from shortly before our arrival in the church, making my face a little less depressed.
What I thought would be a hellish landscape, was, in reality a very Earth-like place, even though really primitive, seeming like I've gone to a place right before the middle ages.
Stood in front of me was a bustling village full of demon people, which I can only admit now, are basically just humans with horns, clawed fingertips, sharp teeth and spiky ears. Though while I say that, there is a very clear difference between humans and demons from what I can see, that is; they do not eat, during the week since I've been born, I have not been fed once.
I do not know how that works, whether my parents are neglecting my needs and their own because they are poor, I cannot say; as we are certainly not poor people, but there is no kitchen at all in our surprisingly weel built home, despite the primitive living conditions of this village, such as my cloth diapers, which really makes me appreciate such a mundane invention such as the modern diaper.
Nevermind the fact that it doesn't look like the hellish landscape I imagined, I am still unsure whether or not this is just part of the scheme of hell to act as a long-winded punishment.
I let my infantile face in grimace, as even just a stray thought of what happened is enough to sink me into a pit of depression. I still find it hard to believe what happened to me and my children, this whole rebirth thing especially throwing a wrench in my conception of reality, though I doubt there would be much time to think if I wasn't reborn, instead to stay dead.
I guess my accidental act had slipped and now even the priest looked worried. Hey! What's wrong with a sad baby to you, let me grief in peace.
And that I did, as I started pathetically crying, with my baby vocal chords in front of them.
After worriedly conversing with the priest for about what to do, as I continued in my pit of depression, he sent us off, probably with something among the lines of 'come here again if it doesn't stop', which is the rational thing I guess.
Now that I think about it, it feels strange to actually have my new mother worry over me, or anyone really, the only others I can think of would be Zach or Amanda; the latter probably faking it.
On the way back I notice something peculiar, despite the apparent lack of need to eat, I still see a farm in the distance, for what purpose it exists, I do not know, but it's both growing crops and raising cattle, and lots of sheep during this high-summer. I assume the crops are to raise the animals to provide cloth and leather, but there seems to be far larger crop fields than a village of this size with an animal population of this size would ever need.
Anyways, as we arrive home, my new dad greets us as my mother steps into the entrance. He is about to head off to work, so he quickly kissed my mother, gave me a little baby speak greeting, and headed for whatever job he works at.
It really does contrast with my previous life's parents, as the most affectionate they ever acted towards each other was when they sat in seperate lazy chairs watching tv together, and when they very loudly, very inconsiderably, had sex right after telling me to get to bed, which I shall never forgive them for the sexual trauma that caused me. Atleast it got me to learn to sleep faster, if you can even call that a positive.
I watch my mom clean the house with curiosity. It seems she is the caretaker of the household, which while not an odd sight to me due to movies showing similar situations, it is a foreign privilige for that to exist for me. As the closest comparison I've personally seen to this, is when my former parents hired someone to clean the house for them once a year, often with complaints of the hiree, about how badly kept up their home is.
She picks me up from the toys on the ground that I didn't even attempt to play with, and held me as she started reading a picture book to me. I would have been content with just listening to her voice, trying to figure out the language as she points out to various drawings of demons, but I immediately perked up when I heard a name I never wanted to hear.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
She points at a godly looking figure in the non-colour picture book, and says the figure's name.
"Lucifer"
I have never had very strong mind when it came to stressful situations, and this tipped my thoughts over the edge as what I dreaded I could only believe was true. I guess the whole accident, rebith and demons were only a tipping point as I immediately fainted in fear from hearing those words.
-----
I wake up to see my mother holding me, not in our house, but in the church again, standing in front of us is the priest, walking towards a statue, a statue of Lucifer, the picture book and the statue do not portray him in the same light as people did on earth, depicted more like a holy version of us.
I would have been afraid of what could happen if I wasn't still in a bit delirious, as I simply observe what the priest does. Picking me up from my new mother's arms, he walks me up the podium in front of the statue. Right after placing me down, he starts praying.
I finally awake when I see the statue smiling at me, a menacing grin, the painted statue baring marbled white teeth at me as if it is alive. My body tenses up as fear grips my very soul, I cannot faint at this moment, for the fear of what could happen next keeps me awake.
Meanwhile the priest next to me seems ecstatic, calling out to my mother and speaking in a foreign tounge, his words apparently making her ecstatic aswell. I envy their apparent joy as I can only dread at what might happen to me.
-----
Priest Robert Stefansson POV
The word ecstasy cannot even be used to describe the amount of joy I am experiencing, in the 207 years of my life, not once has a person blessed by our god Lucifer appeared in this village, yet now stands one, not even a month of age, blessed enough for the demon god himself to speak to me!
"Worry not, the child is blessed"
These words still resound in my head even after two hours have passed. A blessed child means everything to us, it could finally promote our overpopulated place considered a village, into a town, support from the Baron of this region to foster the child to be more outstanding, subsequently, support for the village comes aswell.
Nevermind the fact that I; the only low rank priest in this random village on the border of the eastern part of the demon territory, am the one to mentor this child on religion! It will hopefully allow me to have a higher standing among priests, and to allow me the opportunity of serving our god in a major town or a city.
While this village will surely grow from this, that won't be for another hundred years or so, so I'll hopefully be long gone by then!
After asking a caravan to send a message on their next trip to the nearby town Lyra's church, I am now on my way to the village lord's manor, while Margaret is surely boasting to other villages about her son's success, as she is known for doing.
The manor was close by, about a five minute walk away, and was quite small due to the poor status of our lord, though that is soon to change.
Greeted by his butler, I am allowed into the manor. The lord who now stands before me, Ebenezer of Blackthorn, age 380 is a powerful knight, able to use even magic effectively in combat, thus allowed this land, he is by no means a bad ruler, but sometimes mistakes tend to happen that cause even me to rile up. Though with his prior mentioned skill and his elder status, you cannot help but respect the man who could fight a hundred humans on his own.
"Greetings, Robert, my friend, it's great to see you again! Now, what's got you grinning so widely?" He greets me with a smile.
"Thank you, and greetings to you too, good friend, and Lord Ebenezer." I greet back.
Continuing; "I cannot wait for your surprise so I'll tell you now, Margaret, wife of Axel's child is blessed by Lucifer!" These words I nearly shout out with a bright smile on my face.
Nearly falling from his seat, Ebenezer sputters: "Margaret? Her child is blessed?! Hah! to think a child named after me would be blessed by the demon god himself!" Breaking into a hearty laugh, he tries to hide the fact that it comes from greed with his prior words, but this old priest knows well.
He is in a similar situation of mine, where it is higly likely he'll get to train the child in it's early life, allowing him to reap the rewards in the form of status.
After a lengthy discussion of future plans, such as him sending a report to the Baron about these news, I finally leave back towards the town.
While Ebenezer and I call each other friends, I cannot claim that he truly is one, nor do I believe he would. I have a few gripes with the man and his ruling, nevermind his personality, but I call him that due to his insistence towards treating me that way.
The reason for that being, what I can only imagine, is loneliness, the man, while he has a few soldiers he leads, is not a very outspoken individual, his wife's death 30 years ago and his manor's distance from the village, I can only assume would lead to him missing the rest of society, even with his slightly grander status.
-----
Blessed Child, Thomas Gold POV
I feel sick; I cannot handle the constant positivity from people meeting me and my mother as we walk to the streets, I've never been surrounded by so much praise, especially not praise I have no clue why I am getting, other than the idea that a depiction of the devil grinned at me.
My mother seemed to pick up on my increasingly unstable mental state and hurried with me home, ignoring the other villagers' praise and joy.
Arriving home my father greets us with a hug, seeming to have already heard of the news I cannot understand. Apparently whatever happened in the church, either to me or the priest, is a big deal to the villagers.
And I want nothing to do with it.