He didn’t understand how he understood. The words. The visions. The thoughts. They come in whispers and fleeting moments. Never to be understood. Only acknowledged briefly. What he did understand was that something had changed within him and around him. The room enveloped him in darkness and moisture. A light shone at the end of it, drawing him nearer as time passed. His vision was too blurry to make out any figures, but he heard voices. One was deep and rough. The other two were softer and high-pitched.
Someone lifted and cradled him in rough cloth. A sharp pain in his bottom made him cry. The strangers were trying to hurt him. He mustered up all the power his small body possessed and fought the enemies to no avail. He screamed. He wrestled. They placed him in cloth shackles. His whole body swaddled and unmovable.
He knew he'd lost and feared death approaching. He sensed death approaching from above. It was large and brown with pink tips. His tummy rumbled. How was he so hungry now of all times? It was a strong and unbearable hunger. One he couldn’t fight. The pink tip grew closer and closer to his face. His instincts took over. He latched down on the pink tip and sucked as hard as he could. Something delicious and warm danced in his mouth. If this was the way he died, he had to admit, it wasn’t so bad. After drinking his fill, his eyes grew heavy. His time was up, and he’d lost.
******
He woke up again. This time, the pink tips were absent, but the ravaging hunger persisted. His stomach ached and tears flowed from his eyes. He cried again, and the pink tips arrived instantly. He had his fill and returned to sleep.
He smelled something foul enough to bring him out of his bliss. It wasn’t far away. No, it was right beside him. It felt mushy and clumpy. It made his nose scrunch. Again, he cried. There were no pink tips this time. Instead, something big and firm lifted him and took his clothes off. He couldn’t recall what happened next. He’d just hope they would take it easy on him.
*******
That was his life for some time. Gradually, his vision improved, and his head no longer felt heavy. He could move it around and hold it. The first thing he noticed was those pink tips were breasts and those breasts belonged to his mother. He didn’t know why he knew those things, but those visions... Those feelings all gave him knowledge.
His mother was a young, brown-skinned woman with dark hair and dark eyes. Well, everything was dark brown besides her eyes. Those were black like her hair. He didn’t understand why her nipples were pink, but he didn't mind. They were the source of deliciousness that made his body tingle and his stomach happy.
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Beside her was a rougher-looking man. He looked as if he ate children for breakfast and dinner. He was scarred with wild black hair and a mean mug. Still, he could see why his mother chose him, under all that danger, he was still handsome and large. He dwarfed his mother. His father didn't smile unless his mother was around. He didn’t think his father hated him though it crossed his mind. His father's eyes were kind when he looked at him and he tried to play with him when he asked. Maybe he was just born grumpy.
******
More time passed and he slowly began picking up the language. It felt slow to him. To his parents? They looked as if they had just stumbled over millions of dollars. Dollars? What was that?
******
He learned his name was Yir. His papa was Alexander, and his mama was Nyx. They sounded cool and they were. While his mother cooked in the kitchen (which didn’t have plumbing or a microwave but strange letters?) She sat him in a booster seat to observe his father practicing with the sword. It was at this time he noticed that magic existed. Humans can’t move that fast or be that nimble. He was sure they couldn’t split huge rocks in half or have strange fire surrounding their bodies while doing it.
“Your papa is strong. Do you want to be like Papa?” his mother asked.
Although he comprehended them, his abilities had limitations. He tried to respond, but only gibberish came out. Instead, he responded with some table slaps and leg kicks. When he realized magic was real, something inside him came to the surface. It was an urge he couldn’t ignore. He wanted magic. He wanted power and something inside him knew he would need it.
After that day, he urged his papa and mama to take him outside. He wanted to see magic martial arts up close. Maybe he could understand it if he watched it as hard as he could. Yir bounced on his mama's lap as his father burst forward with red fire surrounding his body.
His mother had to hold him back from falling. He didn’t know he was leaning forward so much, but magic was so interesting to watch. When would he be able to do things like his papa? Would he even be able to wield magic in the first place?
“Why are you frowning, little boy?” his mother bopped his nose. It was a serious moment. How could she make him laugh with that on his mind? Why couldn't he control himself from giggling? Yir took a deep breath and pointed toward his father. Then he tried to make slashing motions like his papa did, but it only made his mama laugh.
“You want to be strong like Papa?” He nodded as hard as he could. “I’m sorry Yir, but you might have to wait until you grow big like Papa.
Grow big? That would take too long! He could barely crawl now, but after that, he would stand and that's when he’ll begin his journey to power. He let the conversation go and watched his father closely. He could barely make out some attacks, but he noticed the strange flame flowed with the martial arts.
*******
Time passed and now he could crawl. Yir could understand them clearly. He didn’t know if it was normal. Her parents thought it wasn’t. Saying things like ‘genius ‘. He couldn't have full conversations like adults, but he got his point across fine.
Being able to crawl was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Well besides being able to speak. He didn’t need to be watched by Mama and he had free rein in the house. His destination? His papa’s study of course. Having to study meant that they had some money. He thanked... whoever for blessing them so.