After my rather traumatic birth experience, I woke up the following day.

With how I could smell the dew, and how the lighting of the windows had a bright blue haze on them, it was easy for me to tell that it was morning.

So I had died and reincarnaed into another world as a baby. Born in either spring or summer, because of how warm it was.

Now that the moments had passed and I had gotten sleep, I could think properly.

Looking back at everything that happened the previous day, I was glad that I understood the language.

Thank God this reincarnation is in Dub.

Communication was an essential tool of survival after all. Still, however, I lacked a lot for that to make me at ease with my situation.

First order of business: information.

I was alien to this world, in more ways than one, and I did not like how anxious the lack of information made me.

From my mother's display the prevous day, I could tell that this world had magic in it, and that's all the information I had, which was not enough to reassure me to take things leisurely.

I WANT MY LEISURE LIFE BACK,AND I'M GOING TO GET IT IF IT'S THE LAST THING I DO!

I may have said that, but I immediately ran into a problem. I couldn't move. At all.

Dammit!

I tried to be vocal about my complaint, but a loud cry left my lips instead.

The door burst off its hinges, flying into the opposite wall of the room in pieces, as my mom came crashing into the room the next moment. It was quite scary if you considered how tired she looked the previous day. Was she even supposed to be out of bed yet? Humans of my old world took quite a while to recover, and even if they had an exceptional physical prowess they still would not be able to pull off such a feat, much less ever run.

Must be the magic then.

It was the only possible explanation.

"Good morning my little dragon. Did something startle you?"

My mom's voice was soothing, and her beauty was a thing to behold.

My mom had eyes that reminded me of red wine. Her hair was snowy, much like my own, with two bangs framing the sides of her face with the hair falling behind her back into a braided ponytail. The soft smile she held on her face as she approached my crib inspired a sense of calm within me, which made the caramel of her skin radiate an aura of serenity that I easily recognised to be the aura of a mother.

My obviously superhuman mom lifted me out of the crib gently and brought me to her bosom. It felt like the most natural thing in the world for me, no ulterior motives whatsoever, like I was meant to be there.

My stomach grumbled, unceremoniously ruining the moment, which made her giggle. I found that I was quickly getting addicted to hearing my mom's laughter even when it was my first time hearing her laugh.

It felt like we were connected somehow, like her happiness was my own.

"He-he, it's okay." She sat on the bed. "Breakfast is coming right up."

I saw her pull down the top of her shirt.

Breakfast? Wait a-

Before I could even try to protest, I found myself being breastfed.

I don't know how to break this to you guys but, BREAST MILK IS THE ABSOLUTE BEST!

I couldn't believe we were stripped of a memory of such delicious cuisine. No wonder babies cried for breast milk. It was too delicious to be legal.

I happily suckled away until I was full.

I felt invigorated, my gauge definitely at a hundred percent, and I could think better too. Didn't help much though because I could not move an inch.

And just like that a week passed.

I noticed a few things during my one week of life in this world. The most annoying one was how I had absolutely no motor control over my body. Yep, I pooped and peed to my body's liking. The most I could do was to barely move my fingers, but even then I couldn't move them individually.

I am sorry to say but the thing of a baby grabbing a finger that's brought within grasp is not because they like you, it is just a reflexive motor response because of how sensitive babies are.

The sensitivity. Oh my God the sensitivity!

I found myself crying more often than not. Be it an eyelash poking at my eye, a chilly breeze passing through me or the soreness of the eyes when I got woken up before I slept enough, it all was unbearable. It's not that I wanted to cry, it just all happened on its own.

Then there was how much I slept. I became painfully aware that sleeping was an occupation for babies. My attempts at moving tired me out quite fast, so I slept quite often. So often that my mother had joked that I was probably lazy in my previous life. How right had she been! But while I would have gladly appreciated this amount of sleep in the teenage body of my previous life, I hated it in my baby body. My baby body wanted to move dammit!

That's how it was though, huh. As a baby, you body can't wait to start moving around and do all sorts of stuff, but it gradually became vice versa as you grew up. The moment you hit those teen years, you start to appreciate sleep. You just can't wait to get home and toss yourself on that bed.

With no mobility to work with, the single piece of information I had on this world, that it had magic, was going nowhere.

I had tried meditating to sense whether I had magic abilities or not, but I ended up falling asleep instead. I tried concentrating too, and only successfully managed to poop myself to oblivion. It was like my body was giving me the simple instruction: Do not move. But I went against it.

While a normal person would contemplate how it meant new possibilities of dying gruesomely if the species of humans of this world had to evolve themselves to be able to use magic in order to survive, the nerd in me was curious about all the possibilites of getting strong. I was probably blessed with some overpowered abilities like all the main characters in the isekai light novels I read.

But even despite the excitement of the possibilities of being overpowered, one true fact remained: I still couldn't move.

Another week passed with me trying to defy the laws set by my body.

It was difficult at first, but the more I tried moving around, I was able to wrestle a bit of control away from nature. I was delighted to be able to sit on my own when the week ended, which was astounding considering how it took a normal baby an average of twelve months to be able to sit on their own without any support in my old world.

My parents were surprisingly mellow about it, which sucked away the feeling of achievement I had felt.

I'll show them.

Me being able to sit on my own was more about nature than me actually wanting it, but I took the victory as my own either way. It all depended on how fast my body developed my semi-circular canals, and I was glad that my development was so abnormal.

As soon as I was able to sit on my own without help, I immediately tried to start crawling. I had bigger fish to fry, I thought.

My eagerness to take that leap of faith towards growth was rewarded with me falling face-first on the floor. There was a carpet to cushion my fall but it still hurt like hell because of how sensitive my body was.

My mom came rushing into the room to soothe me as I couldn't help but cry, while the old hag laughed. I swear that old bag of bones had a bone to pick with my new bones every time.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

After that... incident, I was more careful with my approach to crawling.

I couldn't do much each day though because it felt like the hardcore training I did with my club five days a week. Then I'd promptly fall asleep despite my great efforts of trying not to. The unfairness of life, I tell ya.

Time flew by and my two weeks of life in this world quickly turned into a month.

After a month of sweat and tears, I achieved my goal of crawling. It was something I thought was going to be special but by how mellow my parents' reactions were, again, it must have been normal for a Dragonborne baby to crawl so early.

So much for being a prodigy child.

Still though since I was able to crawl, it gave me the advantage of mobility I've been dreaming of since I wanted information about this world. And as my father was a nerd, I followed him around the house since he was the target that would most likely get me close to the most important information, and exactly as I thought, he led me to the library.

It was a pain how it took me a whole morning of crawling around for the guy to lead me where I wanted to go. Keeping up with the long strides of an adult was more difficult than I thought it would be, but I had managed to keep up, and my reward? Information.

Sweet, glorious, INFORMATION!

It was mission accomplished, or so I thought, but the books at the bottom shelves were all about my size, and thick too, making them impossible for me to pick up.

Seriously?! Who puts something so heavy at the bottoms shelves?! And just like that, I was met with an obstacle.

One I was able to solve quite easily by crying.

Yes, I know I said that I did not like it, but it was the only way I could think of to get someone's attention. And by someone, I meant my mom, because the hag would rather laugh at my misfortune than help, and my father was just hopeless. My father and I we were in the same room but he was so distracted by his work to notice me.

My mom was always first to respond in my moments of distress, and she proved me right by appearing through the doorway, lifting me up to her chest to soothe me. But I was prepared. I didn't allow her mother powers to calm me down as I violently reached out for the shelves. I had literally been waiting my whole life to get information on this world, dammit!

"Oh, you want a book?" she asked.

"Gua!"I kept reaching out, hoping that she would take that as my "yes" since I was still unable to vocalize my speeches.

It was really annoying being unable to talk. You woud think that babies did those "goo goo gagas" on purpose just to be cute, but nope, the tongue was so stiff that it was hard to form even a single coherent syllable. The goos and the gaas were easy because they required no tongue movement, and also because the vocal cords of babies always resort to gurgles every time they opened their mouth to do anything.

"Okay..." She giggled, holding me more securely, "we'll get you your book."

I calmed down as I saw her take a book from one of the middle shelves. It was an especially large one with a maroon cover that seemed like it was made of scales.

I was giddy as she opened it, the picture of a majestic dragon greeting us on the first page.

"Waaah!" I was so excited that I cooed.

"He-he." my mom giggled at my enthusiasm as she turned towards the first page that had literature on it. "I'll read it for you."

My palpable excitement was shortlived, however, because I barely lasted even a paragraph with how soothing my mom's voice was. All the exhaustion from crawling around had caught up to me now that I had let my guard down. As I was falling asleep, I had one thought on my mind.

I hate this body.

■■■

I woke up later that day, and I was outside. It was noon, the reddened sun setting the western skies ablaze. A thought suddenly crossed my mind.

Being a baby must be really traumatic. Imagine falling asleep indoors then waking up in a shopping cart at the mall.

That's how I felt waking up on a blanket outside when I fell asleep inside the library.

I had fallen asleep while my mother was reading me a book. While I didn't stay up for long, I caught some pretty interesting things about my lineage.

I am Sebastian Dragonborne, fist prince of the Dragonborne clan of Dragon's Peak, a country of powerful warriors who are descendents of dragons. You heard that right. I. Was. The. Descendent. Of. A. Dragon!

I was sure that that made me more special than any of the other races.

"The little squirt is up." said the old hag, interrupting my moment of ego-washing as her yellow eyes stared at me blankly.

My mom and granny were with me.

Trust me, your face being the first one I see after a nap wasn't on my to-do list either. I retorted internally.

She must have been able to sense that I was being sassy with her because she pulled on my cheek the next moment.

"!" I gasped out in pain, tears brimming at the edges of my eyes instantly.

"I swear he's going to be rude if he keeps glaring this way, Emilia." said the hag.

"He is just a baby, mother." my mom came to my rescue, chiding the hag while prying the rather hand away from me. Not even father has hands this large.

"And that's when the metal is fresh and hot enough to expel all impurities, and can be shaped to your liking. You can't do that when the metal is old and cold." the hag argued.

I glare at you because everyday it's like you wake up and choose violence, lady!

Seriously, how did this violent hag make something as serene, and as gentle as my mother? I found myself wondering that more often than not.

Though I had to agree that the hag presented a sound argument. It reminded me of a saying in my old world: Ligotshwa lise manzi. Which was a metaphor that talked about how a twig was easy to bend when its still young, wet, and healthy. Something you can't do when it's old, dried out, and dead.

I am already too old to be shaped into anything though. I would have argued right back if I could.

Though despite how it seemed like I did not get along with my granny, I liked her quite a lot. She often stayed up at night to take care of me so that my mom could get a night of sleep. I did my best to be as obedient as possible but, like I had mentioned before, there were moments where situations were just out of my control.

So while her overall behaviour and how she was prone to violence, mostly at my father and I, were highly questionable, she was quite a caring woman. She was more a tough love type of mother but not overbearing. On the onset of me learning how to crawl, she let me try moving around on my own, only intervening when she noticed that I might get hurt. Her watchful gaze had limited the number of accidents I had greatly.

The only person I absolutely dreaded being around was my nerd father. While his genes were helping me, as I could feel that I thought things over at much greater depths and I was more adapt to coming up with solutions quickly compared to how I was in my previous life, it didn't make up for how dumb the guy was for a genius.

Like how he held me only around the waist on my first month, swinging me around like a ragdoll. My mom had laughed, to which I felt so betrayed I almost cried. Then she admonished him gently to hold me properly. I feel like I do not have to mention that the hag laughed boisterously at my predicament, because she did.

To me it looked like my mom was a mother to both my father and I. Seriously, the guy was absolutely hopeless. Though his idiocy also gave birth to pleasant accidents, like how he gave me candy that one time I cried because I wanted him to either put me down, or let my mom or granny hold me. The guy was hazardous to my well-being and I wanted to be alive. My mom wasn't pleased about him giving me candy, but I was. I was so happy to find out that candy existed that I actually cried.

Still didn't make me like the guy.

All in all, my father should have been kept away from me because of his repeated attempts to murder me, but my mom seemed bent on making him hold me. I sensed that she wanted him to learn. I had no qualms with that, really, I didn't. I just had a big problem with the fact that his education was harmful to my being.

"Hey little dragon!"

Speak of the the devil, and he shall appear immediately. I totally would have rolled my eyes if I could.

My one-day-to-be-murderer arrived, taking me into his arms rather roughly.

Though his maturity as a parent had a lot to be desired, it was obvious at first glance why my mom fell for my father. Father had a mysterious blue glint in his eyes that I couldn't quite place. It wasn't enough that I could practically see the sky in his eyes, but his gaze just haaad to have a mystical allure to it. He kept his bluish-navy curly hair short and parted at the middle with his fair skin proving the perfect contrast to give his eyes and hair that extra glow. To keep it short, the guy was too handsome for his own good. Yet dumb.

Careful man, I'm precious cargo.

One would think that a genius would master holding a baby quite quickly, but nope, his handling was just as bad as when he first held me. Even now he was holding me up by my arms which left me dangling like a piece of biltong left out to dry.

Not cool man. This totally counts as a low blow.

"H-hunny, don't hold him like that..." I could tell that my mom was fighting back a giggle as she spoke. The betrayal.

She fished me out of his grip then sat me on his lap and adjusted his left hand so that he held me properly. I was quite comfortable, not going to lie. He was a helplessly clumsy mess, but he was still my father, after all. He had a lot to learn and was slowly getting a hang of things. I just wished his slowness would come with less harmful circumstances.

Even now he was passing his tea cup over me, the prospect of burning me obviously non-existent in his mind.

And as if the sense of foreboding I felt all of a sudden was a cue, the cup slipped from his thin fingers, its contents spilling downwards as they free-fell towards my face.

I was helpless, and even if I had managed to move I would not have been able to cover my face in time. So I did the next best thing, and closed my eyes.

"Sebastian!" a shriel cry came from mom as she took me from my father.

"Emilia, I'm sorry!" father articulated rather hesitantly, as if he wasn't sure it was the right time to apologize.

Of course it's not! You just burned me! It's obvious that you shouldn't drink tea with a baby in your arms! then I realized something. Wait... It doesn't hurt. so I slowly opened my eyes.

"!" I heard father gasp.

"My oh my." my grandma giggled lightly.

My mom was silent.

I didn't know why they sounded surprised, but I was having a surprise of my own. From my mom's arms,which allowed me the full view of the sky, I could see white sparkles littering the skies. It was like a colony of fireflies raining down from the heavens, their beauty unlike anything I'd ever seen before.

I could feel the potency of the sparkles, which allowed me to deduce that they were Mana.

Something inside me told me to reach out to the sparkles with my own Mana, that I could now sense all of a sudden, and so I did. It felt wonderful. The mana warmed up my body as I could feel my senses expand outwards, giving me a bird's eye view of the island we were on.

"Waah!" I couldn't help but cooe at the shear beauty of the place.

I had admired the view for a few minutes when I felt everything gradually return to normal. I surmised that I had reached the limit of the capacity of my tiny body.

When I came to, blinking myself back to reality a few times, I found myself back in the house; no longer outside. It was another sudden change of scenery for me.

Seriously, this is not good for my heart.

My mom, father, granny, and I were assembled in the kitchen, with the former three staring expectantly at me.

"I refuse." my mother spoke up first, and what she said next rattled me down to my core. "I will not allow my child to be killed."

Wait, what? I had only been alive for three months in this world, and I was already bound for execution it seems.