Alright, several weeks in and I had come to a number of conclusions. The first was that this was definitely not where I was from, the styles of clothes were different, vastly different, and the house I was in was frankly massive. It was hard to tell exactly how big things were, and I would admit that I didn't get the best views of everything, but that didn't mean I couldn't see anything at all.
My mother, for she had to be my mother, was far younger than my father was, probably in her twenties. She spent much of her time around me, singing lullabys and generally doting. Not all of her time though, I had a wet nurse as well, who took care of many of the things which must be done to any baby. I felt no need to think too much about things like feeding and changing, but they had to happen.
On the note of the wet nurse, she was decidedly pregnant. Also of note was that if I were any judge of body language, my father was definitely too close to her. None of this ever happened in the presence of my mother, but people didn't really expect a baby to realize what was going on around him.
And I was decidedly a him, to my relief. I'd confirmed this by peeing while being changed, sorry Mrs. Nanny, but I had to know. There'd been days of worrying more and more as I saw all the nonsense my mother and her maids went through to get ready, the layers, the amount of coverage and lack of movement, it all looked horrible. Added to that being a woman after being a man would just be weird, I wouldn't have wanted to go through that.
The maids also had actual maid outfits, like black with white frills and all that, like something from a old photo or one of those cafes in Japan. Of all the things so far that had surprised me, that was the biggest. I mean, there were really only so many ways to build a lot of things, but that style? I felt like someone had beaten me to this world and injected a little of my old one, or perhaps it was the reverse, who could say?
Language was still a struggle. I'd never been particularly good at them and there was limited context for so many things. People weren't speaking to me very much, but more around me most of the time. When they were speaking to me, they were also only saying very limited things, like a peek-a-boo type game or songs to keep me happy.
If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
Physically my parents seemed a bit taller than those around them. Mother had long raven hair in tight rings all the way down her back, whereas my father's slight graying hair showed it too had once been black. Everything around me seemed well-made and almost fancy, a big change from Earth, where I'd been a bit of a hick.
I didn't see outside much, and other than my parents the only real people I met were what hat to be my grandparents. Both sets showed up, but one was noticeably older than the other. I was only guessing based on their interactions, but the ones that I thought were the maternal set seemed a bit young, particularly my grandfather, who looked almost younger than my dad.
As he played with me I noticed something odd, the tips of his ears came to a point. It wasn't much, them being no longer than any normal man's, but it was there. Perhaps there were different lineages of people? Maybe even different races? From that point forward I began to look more closely at those around me and their features.
It took days for me to confirm, but my mother too had oddly shaped ears. It wasn't even as much as my grandfather had, only a slight shaping, mostly hidden under her hair, but it was there. I tried to check myself, but with weird pudgy baby arms that wasn't really possible.
My crib was of course in my parents room. Even so I did try not to be too much of a pain at night. I'd had kid sisters in my previous life and knew well how awful having a baby around could be. Therefore unless something was quite wrong when I woke up in the middle of the night I stayed silent, ruminating on the things I'd seen over the day.
During one of these ruminations I saw something which I'd half expected, but only really been hoping for. Father rose to find the lavatory, but as he did, he didn't take a candle or lamp with him. Instead he made a small motion with his hand and a tiny glowing orb appeared there. As he returned I called out, not crying, but loud enough to get his attention.
He seemed to hesitate a bit before coming over and leaning over my crib, a small smile on his face as I coo'ed and reached up towards him, and the light he'd made. With a low laugh he placed his hand in my reach, letting me hold onto his finger as the little globe of light drifted up and split into dozens.
His impromptu mobile hung there, the light fading to barely visible above me in blues and cool reds. While I looked on he spoke, and though I had no idea what he was saying my guess was that he was telling me about what would come. My new father had been distant until this moment, aloof or busy with something other than tending to me and my mother, but for a few seconds he was gentle and calm. After a time he left the mobile in place and went back to bed, the glow of the magic eventually fading into nothing.
From that point on I kept a hard eye out for any sign of magic. There didn't seem to be much, if any in the house though. Perhaps the lights in some of the main rooms were, but I was seldom taken there, and couldn't get a good look. I didn't like the disappointment, and tried to get father to repeat his performance, but for some reason he didn't seem to get the message, or just didn't want to. Maybe magic was taboo? I really needed to work out the language so I could ask these things.