He had been born into a wealthy family, we lived in a small mansion in the countryside, far from the hustle and bustle of the modern urban life to which I was accustomed. The air was fresh and the green landscape extended as far as the eye could see.

My room was simple yet cozy. It had a crib, a wardrobe, and a simple desk. Although it might seem somewhat austere, it was a space that conveyed calm and serenity. I understood that, being a baby's room, it was better to keep it free of potentially dangerous objects.

The floor was covered by a soft carpet that I yearned to touch. I wondered if it was made of animal hair or perhaps cotton. Since my world was limited to that small bed for now, I could not satisfy my curiosity.

When the windows were occasionally opened, the sound of nearby trees whispering with the wind filled the room. A fresh and clean breeze entered, bringing with it the aromas of the nature surrounding the mansion.

"I want to walk as soon as possible," I thought impatiently. "Even if there isn't much to do, at least I'll be able to explore a bit." I hated being forced to remain motionless, like in an unwanted paid vacation. Because of this, I tried to move my little hands and feet as much as I could, seeking to strengthen my muscles little by little.

However, I was aware of my limitations. Since I still could not sit up by myself, I knew I would have to be patient. While reflecting on this, I heard footsteps and voices approaching from the other side of the door.

I recognized my parents' voices even before they opened the door and entered the room. The silver-haired woman, my mother, called me softly while carefully lifting me in her arms.

Beside her was the white-haired man with red eyes, my father. His strong presence seemed to soften when looking at me. He was a very handsome man, just as his wife was beautiful. I could not help but think that I had been lucky with genetics in this new life.

The man extended a hand and gently caressed my cheeks with his fingers. Although I could hear their voices, I still did not understand the words. Tenderly, the man kissed his wife on the forehead and murmured something in a low voice before extending his arms to take me.

As he cradled me against his chest, a wave of heat ran through the man's fingertips. I felt a strange sensation, as if an invisible energy flowed through me.

Mom took me from dad's arms and gently placed me in my crib. The man also bent down to kiss my forehead before following his wife out of the room.

Left alone, I remained thoughtful, trying to process what I had just discovered. The sensation of energy flowing through me had been amazing. Could magic exist in this new world? The idea filled me with excitement and curiosity.

That night, while the moon hung high in the sky projecting a silvery glow through the window, I slowly awakened. A deep longing to explore the realms of magic had awakened me from my sleep.

I reflected for a moment, trying to remember the exact sensation. "Perhaps it's something internal?" I reasoned. "I suppose it won't hurt to try."

With determination, I closed my eyes and concentrated intensely. I inhaled deeply, feeling the air fill my small lungs. I imagined that air spinning and dancing inside me, charged with magical energy.

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I exhaled slowly, trying to release any distraction or doubt that might threaten to break my concentration. In my mind, I visualized a blank canvas, ready to be painted with the vibrant colors of magic.

Several minutes passed without anything happening. I opened my eyes, the frustration evident on my infant face. "What am I doing wrong?" I asked myself. Throughout the night, I continued trying without success, determined to decipher the enigma of magic.

As dawn approached, I realized my infant body needed rest. Frustrated but not defeated, I allowed myself to fall into a light sleep, promising myself that I would continue trying as soon as I had the opportunity.

Days turned into weeks, and I noticed gradual changes in my senses. One day I realized that I heard my mother Adelaide's voice with more clarity than before. The contours of objects in my visual field became sharper, although they were still far from being perfectly defined. During the day, I behaved like the baby I was supposed to be: crying when hungry, sleeping at regular intervals, and enjoying my parents' caresses.

My body had grown a bit, but my speaking ability remained limited. No matter how much I tried, I could only pronounce simple sounds like "ah", "uh", and "oh". The frustration of not being able to express myself as I wanted was immense.

One morning, I heard a noise coming from outside. Instinctively, I directed my gaze towards Adelaide, who was watching me with maternal love. A smile formed naturally on my lips, using my facial muscles with more control than I had had until then.

— You smile every time you see me, — said Adelaide sweetly—. Did you like it so much? Am I so beautiful?

Yes, you are. I love you so much, I wished I could tell her. Instead of words, I could only emit a kind of melody with my lips.

— My little one, are you singing? — Adelaide seemed delighted with the sounds I was making.

I felt satisfied seeing my mother enjoying my communication attempts. I wanted to show her how much I loved her, even if through such simple ways.

— I know you came out of me, but you are too cute, — continued Adelaide, bringing her face close to mine—. Who is so pretty? Yes, you are.

Instead of kissing my lips or cheeks, Adelaide found my little toes peeking out from under the blanket. She kissed them several times, tickling me. Then, naturally, she lifted her shirt and took me in her arms.

I began to suckle Adelaide's breast eagerly. My taste buds were working better than before, as were my eyes and ears. I could fully taste the milk with a subtle coconut touch. Adelaide looked at me with eyes full of love while feeding me.

When I was satisfied, my lips continued moving by instinct, although I was no longer swallowing. Adelaide knew that this sucking reflex would gradually disappear as I grew.

— Baby, grow healthy and strong,— whispered Adelaide while holding me against her chest—. I love you so much.

Unable to respond with words, I tried to convey all my love through my gaze. "I love you too, mom," I thought with all my heart, hoping that somehow she could feel my feelings.

The days passed with a similar routine. I alternated between sleeping, eating, and observing the world around me with growing curiosity. Each day I noticed small advances in my abilities: my movements became more coordinated, my vision sharper, my hearing more acute.

One afternoon, while Adelaide gently rocked me in her arms, I heard voices approaching the room. I recognized Atlas's deep voice mixed with another female voice I had not heard before. The door opened, revealing my parents accompanied by a young woman.

— Look who has come to meet you, little one, — said Adelaide enthusiastically—. This is your older sister, Anastasia.

I observed the newcomer attentively. Anastasia was a younger version of Adelaide, with the same silver hair and ruby-colored eyes like Atlas. However, there was an air of seriousness on her face that contrasted with my mother's constant warmth.

Anastasia approached the crib and looked at me with a mixture of curiosity and something that seemed almost... resentment? I couldn't be sure, but the way my sister studied me made me feel like I was under scrutiny.

— He is... small, — Anastasia finally commented, her voice lacking the emotion I would have expected from an older sister meeting her new brother.

— All babies are, darling, — responded Adelaide with a soft laugh—. You were also this small once.

Atlas placed a hand on Anastasia's shoulder. — Your brother will grow quickly. Before you know it, you'll be teaching him all kinds of things.

Anastasia nodded, and before I could hear more, I felt a wave of tiredness taking over me. My eyelids began to close against my will.