The months passed quickly, and over that time much changed. The days started simple. Every morning I’d wake up to a sour smell in the air; it took me a while to figure out the reason, and it wasn't something I was proud of. Afterwards, Lisa, or her sister Liza, would change… whatever was causing the smell. This was followed by a daily check-up from Tabatha and the doctor, Ilbern. One day, a few months after my arrival, Tabatha’s report changed from the norm. She said I had too much of something called mana in my body, so she, along with Lisa, Liza, and Winston, put their hands around me while holding odd purplish crystals. Feeling drained, I fell asleep quickly and was forced to stay in a different room for a few days due to construction. I wasn’t sure what changed, but after that the issues, soon followed by Tabatha’s checkups, stopped.
After the evaluation, I would eat with Lisa and Liza in the kitchen, before going to sit in the common room. Most of the day was spent there, and I learned much in the area over the months. It started with simple things like new words, but when basically everything said is new information, it becomes difficult to not always be learning. Once, Winston tried to teach me why a blonde was better than a brunette, but the intricacies of his argument went over my four-month-old head.
The most important things I’d learned were about babies. Apparently, I was different from most babies. I had thought I was acting normally up until that point, but since almost everything I’d learned about babies was from everyone talking about how different I was from a normal baby, it was clear I was not. From what I’d gathered, babies could not talk, at least not initially, explaining one of my main mysteries. Not only that, they also weren’t supposed to understand people. I wasn’t sure why I was able to, but after a brief phase where they stopped talking around me, I started doing my best to act like I couldn’t. If they didn’t talk, I couldn’t learn anything, and that was extremely boring.
Tabatha had once said it was weird that I didn’t cry often, so I tried to cry more, but I kept getting, what I thought were weird looks, so my timing might have been off. Winston told me I was smarter than most babies, but this was in the same one-sided conversation as to why something called boobs were better than butts. I only knew what butts were because of the… morning accidents, so I figured anything was better than them. Needless to say, I was not left alone with Winston frequently, and crying as soon as someone tried to leave me with him just added to the effect.
Tabatha spent most of the day at her desk in the common room doing what I learned to be reading. I’d gotten a look at one of the so-called books, but it seemed to just be odd symbols, leaving me with no clue as to what she was actually doing.
A few months in, my parents started to bring me toys. Apparently, I was supposed to play with them, which I of course had no clue how to do. On my parent's next visit, my mom spent about five minutes shaking a model animal around and talking in a high-pitched voice; confused, I just stared at her. After that, no one tried to actively make me to use the toys, instead just leaving them near me.
Though I’d learned some useful, and other less useful, things, my favorite pastime had to be watching everyone fight. A few weeks into our stay here, Winston started to move the stuff in the room around, using the open space created to do what he called basic exercises and sword techniques. After a couple of days, Lisa wanted to practice with him, and they decided to ”spar” as he called it. After a conversation with my parents, they were able to dedicate a small area in the common room to be filled with wooden weapons. I had been there for the conversation, and a sticking point was that I would not be able to reach any of the weapons. I didn’t really mind, as I probably couldn’t lift them with my baby arms anyway, and getting hit by them looked like it would hurt. If my view wasn't obscured, I didn’t really care what they did, but no one was asking me anyway. Just another thing about being a baby.
Lisa used two short wooden blades, daggers I learned, during most of their matches, though they’d never done her any good against Winston’s rapier.
“Winston’s fighting style is almost a perfect counter to Lisa’s here. She’d fare better if there was space, or maybe they could use mana, but she’s still no match for him,” Liza said whilst I sat on her lap. Though she never took part in the fighting, I could see the stiff concentration in her gray eyes as the caretaker watched.
Tabatha seemed to be the least interested; only having involved herself once, when the pair had been rather loud. When Winston told her to fight him if she wanted to quiet him down, she calmly put down her book, strode over to the weapons rack, and picked up a wooden staff nearly the size of her body. Even with my limited experience around people, I could tell that Tabatha had been waiting for him to say that.
Their spar lasted longer than most of Lisa’s fights. Winston darting in and out, while Tabatha kept her distance, slowly trying to dismantle her opponent’s defenses. About three minutes in, Tabatha managed a sweep at Winston’s back leg with her staff right as he positioned his leg to move forward. From what I’d seen in most of Winston’s previous spars when your opponent caught you like this the fight was basically over, it turned out however, Winston was much more skilled than Liza. As soon as her staff connected Winston stomped his front foot down allowing his back leg to move with the motion. Twisting a full ninety degrees, he extended his sword in a straight lunge. I was surprised, the move was impressive, and he has somehow managed to keep his entire weight on his forefoot, but there was one more vulnerability Tabatha noticed, and she was quick to exploit it.
Ducking the showy attack, Tabatha began to bring her staff upwards. Almost simultaneously, Winston moved to bring his weapon down, but Tabatha managed to move her heavier weapon with greater speed. To the side, Lisa gasped at the motion, though at the time I had no clue why. Right before her weapon made contact, Tabatha halted the motion. The entire room was silent for a moment before staff with a flourish.
“It was a better fight than I expected,” Winston began as he stood straight, “it seems I have forgotten how to truly fight without mana protecting me.”
“A true warrior is always able to adapt to their environment,” Tabatha smiled before adding, “old man.”
As silently as she had approached, the brunette walked back to her seat, only the barest sheen of sweat coating her olive skin and resumed reading. She never fought after that, even when Lisa begged her, but the pair would always quiet down if requested.
After the morning training, my parents would visit. Every once in a while, my dad would try to spar with Winston, but was always stopped by my mother. Something about it being “unbecoming of a king.” The visits had started with just been the two of them, but about three months in they began to bring my siblings along. I was excited to meet new people and while I wasn’t sure exactly why having the same parents mattered, it was nice to see others close to me in age.
My brother, Silus, was five years old, with the same silver hair and blue eyes as my father. When I had first met him, he just kept making odd faces and acting weird overall. My three-year-old sister’s name was Emelia, though everyone called her Mia, like how they call me Ben, I figured. Mia looked like a darker-toned version of my mother. According to my father, we both had my mother’s hazel eyes, but I’d never seen my own eyes, so I just assumed he was right. Unlike me, however, she had our dad’s silver hair while mine was my mother’s dark purple. At first, Mia didn’t try to play with me like my brother, instead staying away, often hiding behind our mother and father. It took a little while, but I got used to spending time with them and even began to look forward to it.
Once the visits were over, I’d nap before a similar evening schedule, minus the extra company. Sleeping was always the weirdest part of my day. Whether it be for a nap or through the night, the same thing would always happen, I would have the same dream of the man and the woman falling from the sky or no dream at all. There were often times when it seemed like I’d dreamed, though I could never remember about what. I always felt odd after those, but they were rare, so I didn’t think much of it.
The first time these forgotten dreams, as I decided to call them, showed any noticeable effect was about six months after I'd moved here. One morning I woke up with the sensation I’d dreamed, though not memories, I was left with a compulsion of sorts. The feelings were weak initially. I’d wake up and really want to look at one of Tabatha’s books or see if there was any way to open the front door. One of the weirder ones being wanting to read.
I’d only known what reading was because that was what everyone called what Tabatha did, but when I woke up that day I knew what it meant to read, though I still couldn’t do it. Normally even if I did nothing the desire would go away after a few hours, but after a week of no dreams, I still had the urge to learn to read, and it was getting annoying. Realizing it wasn’t going away, I decided to attempt to learn.
Knowing what reading was came with the understanding that Tabatha wasn’t the only one that read, everyone did, though most to a lesser degree. Using my newfound information, I decided that Winston was the best choice for my attempt. Every morning he would read a newspaper, and a stack of them had been built on the common room floor. Crawling was my main mode of solo transportation, so getting to the papers was rather easy to do. Since I couldn’t talk, my plan was to get the paper and hope someone figured out what I wanted. Babies do that, right? That was not what happened.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
I had escaped from Liza’s side one morning while Winston was training and went over to the stack of papers. It was higher than I’d first thought, so getting one wasn’t exactly graceful. They all fell, many on me. The noise the collapse made must have been rather loud, since everyone was around me by the time,I opened my eyes. Lisa was panicking to make sure I was alright, but I just stretched my arms towards the paper, hoping they understood.
Instead of teaching me to read, however, they just made it harder to escape when I was on the floor. Not being able to talk was rough. It took almost another month before I was able to escape again, this time the stack was much smaller, so I was able to grab one and drag it back to Liza. After taking it from me she opened it and started to talk while looking at the paper.
“The Meraki Empire discovers a new leyline near its south-eastern Expanse border. Does Eunoia have claim? Find out what they plan to do with it on page six. Davion and Scate communications continue. Will the high elven country finally open their borders; more on page two.”
It took me a little before I realized that she was reading. I started to laugh and clap, my instinctual reaction to being excited, thinking Liza knew what I wanted.
“Do you enjoy being read to, Prince Benjamin? I can have some books brought that are more for your age group,” said Liza, her tone dry as usual.
That was how the daily activity of reading with the twins started. I’m not sure if it was what my dreams wanted because I wasn’t really learning to read, but the normal dream of the two people falling from the sky returned a couple of days later.
The books were always nice to listen to, they told tales of fights, adventures, and magic. However, the most valuable thing I learned was about mana. Mana was something used to cast spells. In the books the hero, or heroine, was always about to run out of mana, but through the power of love, friendship, or what Winston called plot armor, they always managed to win in the end. I found it pretty dumb, but still semi-relevant to me. I’d always heard everyone say I had too much mana, so I thought maybe I could cast the amazing spells in the books. When I tried, however, nothing happened, so I quickly came to the conclusion it was just another thing babies couldn’t do. Most of the days were enjoyable and time passed rather uneventfully, up until about eight months in.
One afternoon I woke up in a cold sweat. I had a similar feeling to when I got the compulsion to read, but this time something was wrong. Normally it felt like I was being constantly urged to do something, just keeping the topic at the forefront of my thoughts. This, however, was much worse, much more painful.
I had fallen asleep in the common room and like before I didn’t remember a dream, just the feeling. My heart was beating rapidly, enough to make me cry, it felt like my head was going to explode. The worry was basically leaking into me, and I knew Liza was hurt. My sudden outburst grabbed Lisa’s attention, and she was standing over my crib before I could move.
She reached down and picked up my prone figure as I attempted to control my emotions. I scanned the room through my blurry eyes, but there was no sign of Liza. Lisa had begun to turn me in a circle lightly shaking me up and down, but I pointed at the ground with both my arms outstretched, and after I actually stopped crying, she put me down.
The foreign emotions made me want to start again, but I managed not to as I began to crawl. I had learned to walk over a month ago, but crawling was still faster, and I didn’t trust my legs to not collapse on me. As I made my way closer to the bedroom doors, the feeling became stronger, and the volume of my heartbeat made it impossible to hear anything. The tears began to run again as I passed Winston’s room, then Tabatha’s, arriving at Liza’s door. I knew she was inside, though much of the apartment remained unchecked.
The door was closed and even standing, the doorknob was at least double my height. I was about ready to stand up and attempt to run into the door, anything to make the pounding stop, when Lisa picked me up again.
The red bowed caretaker had apparently been walking behind me, but I was so focused I didn’t even register her presence. Liza stared at me for a moment, her normal childlike glee missing from her gray eyes. I just mimicked my last motion and pointed towards the door.
“What happened? We can’t go in there right now; sister wasn’t feeling well and is sleeping.” Lisa turned to take me away.
At the mention of the person I was looking for, I began to scream louder, my gaze locked on the door. My arms flailed, and I all but tumbled out of Lisa’s arms before she finally turned back. Which was when Tabatha walked up to us.
“Lisa, what happened,” Tabatha asked, her words hurried.
“I don't know, he keeps trying to get into Liza’s room.”
Tabatha walked in front of the door and spoke again. “He hasn’t cried like this since,” she began, trailing off. “Is Liza in there?”
“Yea, she wasn’t feeling well and was going to get some rest.”
Tabatha looked into my tear-filled eyes and I stared at the door. She looked away then knocked before opening it. Just like I feared something was wrong.
Liza was on her back lying on the floor, her eyes closed and signature blue bow off to the side. I started to cry even more. Lisa called for Winston, while Tabatha began to help Liza up. When they got her on the bed, Lisa took me into my room. A few minutes later, the feelings subsided, though I was still unable to stop myself from crying until I finally fell asleep.
When I awoke, it was dark, save for a dim light in a corner of the room. I turned onto my side to see Liza sitting on a chair next to my bed. Struggling my way into a seated position, my short arms fighting me all the way, I looked at her. She seemed fine. The blonde-haired girl stared back at me for a moment, then began to speak.
“Oh, you’re awake.” She smiled, a rare sight for her. “Probably wondering what happened.”
As she explained, I learned what happened. Apparently, she hadn’t been feeling well earlier in the day and went to her room to lie down. Before Liza could do so, she had tripped and hit her head. She hadn’t been unconscious for longer than five minutes, so the damage wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but there had been a hairline fracture on her skull. After a few spells the healer said it would be fine but had warned her to be careful since she had slept with a concussion. I had no clue what most of it meant, but just sat there and listened as Liza spoke.
“I wonder why I’m even telling you this,” she finished, a hint of emotion making it into her voice.
Her gray eyes held mine for a moment, as if she was debating something, then continued.
“Lisa told me you’re the reason they found me so soon. I don’t know how you knew I was hurt, but I guess I wanted to let you know what happened, even if you can’t understand me. Thank you, and goodnight Ben,” Liza finished, as she bent over the crib and kissed my forehead, before tucking me back in and leaving the room.
I fell back asleep that night with plenty of questions, but no answers. While the whole situation was confusing, the real issue hadn’t even begun. It turned out, Liza and I weren’t the only ones curious about what happened. My parents had their routine visit the next day and heard the story from Tabatha. They were across the room, so I missed most of their conversation but, from the little I did hear, my parents seemed worried. That was definitely not what I wanted.
My mom and dad didn’t handle it well when something happened to me. A good example would be a few months prior when I had a cough. It started randomly and faded almost as quickly, but my parents seemed to think the world was ending. I was forced to see a doctor five times in the span of two days, and then couldn’t go to the common room for a week after that.
I wasn’t sure how normal that was but based on the number of times I’d seen Winston ignore actual injuries, I’d guess it wasn’t. This behavior however was a common occurrence with my parents, to them, anything that wasn’t normal was a problem. The issue was that I didn't know what normal was, so I often ended up doing something that made them worry. This was part of the reason that I decided to keep the whole, I can understand them thing, away from them, very not normal.
After their conversation with Tabatha, they were acting as they usually did, so I assumed everything would be fine. The next day, however, I got the first sign that wasn’t the case. Mother and Father rarely missed a visit. Most of the time they came together, but if one was busy or otherwise occupied the other would still come, but neither of them came for two days. No one gave any indication something was wrong, and I couldn’t exactly just ask them, but I was still worried.
I hoped maybe they were just busy, or something major was happening because from what I’d heard a King and Queen were important. When they finally did return two days later, it with a rather big development.
It was the evening, later than their normal visit time, so I was already in my room when they arrived. I was supposed to be taking a nap, though I’d often used the time to try to improve at speaking until I fell asleep; so I was quite surprised when my dad walked in. As soon as he saw I was awake, he picked me up, and we walked to the common room, my back to his chest.
‘No, hey Ben, haven’t seen you in a while. It's always what-’ I snapped out of my thoughts at the sight when we entered the common room.
I had stayed in this apartment for basically my entire life. The only people I knew were the ones who were frequently here. Tabatha, Winston, the twins, the doctor, the two guards, and my family. So meeting a new person was rather significant, and it was finally happening.
Standing next to my mother was a tanned skinned lady a few inches shorter than her. The newcomer was thin, with curly brown hair, and round wide-rimmed glasses hanging at the edge of her nose. She had a broad smile on her face showing two sets of gleaming white teeth and though the glare from the light stopped me from seeing her eyes, it was like I could feel them staring right at me.
Everyone except Brinx, Keeler and my siblings were present. Lisa looked like she was trying to hold in a laugh, whilst she and Liza stood a short distance behind my mother. Tabatha was off to the left, leaning slightly against a wall. Everyone was just looking at me. Except Winston, he was sitting on the couch mumbling something under his breath about not having horns.
As my father and I reached the other group, we continued to walk to the dining table and sat down. The room had one of those chairs that make babies the same height as the table, but my father decided to hold me. My mother sat to his right, while the new lady sat opposite us.
“Hi Ben, I’m Sofia, and we’re going to be spending a lot of time together.”