Volume 1 : Infancy

Chapter 2

It has come. My first birthday in this world, that is.

It seems to be in the fifth month of the year, which has twelve months just like the years in earth. It doesn’t have weeks though, so it feels a bit weird.

Oh, right, it is the middle of harvest season and my parents aren’t rich, so it probably will be just a few neighbors and family having a drink together. Mother seems trilled with the chance to reunite with her friends after almost a year of semi-reclusion in the house, since this world has a rule about not having anyone outside the family visiting when there are newborns.

Maybe I should take this chance and also explain how the housing process is carried in our village.

First, almost all houses are small wood houses with three rooms – a kitchen which is also the living room and two bedrooms.

Ours is a bit bigger, and has a kitchen attached. Brother and sister share one room, while my crib is in the other where father and mother sleep.

Second, the style is a weird mix of oriental and occidental ways of many ages. There is a clay and bricks stove in the kitchen, with three mouths and a clay chimney. The cooking is done in stone pots, and mother always look at them with a certain sense of pride. I guess this could be considered a wealthy lifestyle?

The kitchen floor is bare, and the walls are thin. It almost looks like it didn’t used to be a proper room but an open-air kitchen around which walls where latter built. This may just be the case.

The living room and the bedrooms, however, have a wooden floor which is slightly elevated from the ground. People eat dinner in the oriental way, seated on their knees in front of a small table in the living room. There is also a small fireplace in the middle of the living room, which I believe is used for heat in the winter. In most houses it seems this is the place where people cook, but ours has a kitchen so the fireplace is used only in the winter, when it seems to snow a little bit.

The beds, of course, have straw mattresses, and by that I mean they are just a slightly elevated sheet of wood with wooden legs, made a little less uncomfortable by adding on top straw stuffed in rough cotton cloth. It is also another luxury item, since it seems in most houses the straw mattresses are thrown directly in the ground and people sleep there. In the poorest houses people sleep directly in the straw, or sometimes in the cold hard ground.

I have even heard mother saying something like “this guy is no good, he has to sleep in the bare ground after all”. Isn’t this a bit snob? Well, maybe it is bad manners to do it. Straw is cheap after all.

There is no running water, of course. All water in the house comes from a big barrel which is kept in the kitchen and filled by buckets every day at morning. It is sister’s duty to do it. For laundry I suppose there is a river nearby, since mother takes our dirty clothes out from time to time and return with them clean. The fact that my dirty diapers are kept in the same place as everyone else’s clothing is a bit unsettling though. One more example of this world’s low patterns on hygiene.

Of course, there is no bathroom. And no bathroom means not only the baths are either river baths or sponge baths, or… well, no bathing at all.

Then, I have seen a big wooden basin nearby, so there must be some kind of indoor bathing done at home from time to time, but this seems to be very expensive as sister was saying “mother, when will we bath in the hot water again? It is getting cold already.” and mother said something like “stop complaining. It is for when it is really cold.”

But it also means something problematic. And by that I mean the fact that there are no toilets in the houses.

Now, again, we might be a modestly rich family, since we have our own private toilet in the backyard.

It is at the very end of it. A small wooden cabin on top of a hole dug on the ground, with just a wooden sheet on top of the cistern and a hole in the middle of it. There is also a bundle of straw at the sides, to replace toilet paper.

It is disheartening. The first time I saw that I felt as if I never wanted to go through potty training in this world. I cannot imagine myself near that thing. What if I fall inside? The straw, won’t it hurt my sensitive area?

Older brother seems to use it just fine, so maybe it is a baseless fear.

Still, it is a little comical. That unsafe and smelly thing surely is the biggest incentive for me not getting morbidly obese as I used to be in my past life.

Just thinking of stepping inside with a body over 150kg makes me immediately think that a bath will be needed when and if the person gets to crawl out of the sceptic tank under.

Let’s make a vow to never grow fat in this world. Mother, from now on I shall have your perfect breast only during meal times and stop doing it for my own deviant pleasures. I hope you don’t mind.

Anyway, as I was saying, even this level of toiled seems to be already a luxury. Beyond our fence the other houses don’t seem to have a single toiled, but a public one. A big structure of wood, like many of ours stacked together.

The houses are also fenced in bundles of five or six.

Why the need for fences? Well, everyone raises chickens in the backyard, so it is a way to keep foxes and raccoons out of reach. Not that it helps much, as a chicken pen is also needed to ensure safety at night, but it is better than nothing.

However, so much privacy…. I will correct what I said earlier. Father surely is a big shot at work. I should even be a bit ashamed to live with so much comfort, but…

It is just too primitive! The ancient times, even if it has the better of japan and Europe, it’s still too primitive for me!

I mean, there is a very good reason why people take of their shoes when they come back from the street, and don’t step on the living room or bedrooms with them. And it isn’t because of dust.

In one word: Dong.

This is a world of poop. Chicken poop. Horse poop. Cow poop. Bird poop. Sometimes even human poop, as some people just don’t have any fear of doing it on a corner of the street. It is just EVERYWHERE.

Will I truly adapt?

Can I live in a dong world?

As mother sings a song happily and sister practices her swings I look at my older brother with teary eyes, thinking if it wouldn’t have been better to be born like him – clueless about the hygiene standards of modern human life.

Ah, he patted my head. Did he got the wrong idea?

Oh, well, no matter. This is the first time this brother of mine shows some brotherly affection, so I will give him a big smile in return.

I will try to be strong, poop-world brother. So please take your hands out of my hair now. They are full of dirt.

***

The birthday is here!

That said, for now it is just father, mother, me and sister sitting at the table. Older brother is looking at the window from the top of a log.

Me? Sleepy because of the time? Nonsense. I just awoke from a long nap and had a meal from mother, so I am fine! Energy is cursing through my veins!

So, we are sitting in the table. Father has his legs crossed, mother is seated in a relaxed seiza position and sister has one leg under the other, hugging one of her knees.

It is night already, and everything is prepared. The beer barrel has been moved to the living room just for today.

Ah, I forgot to tell about the beer barrel, haven’t I?

Well, people in this world seldom drink water. They usually drink a very thick beer made with lots of grains and kept at room temperature. It has a very low alcohol content, as I could see from myself earlier.

It reminds me of old tales about beer. It seems it was a sort of “liquid meal” in most of Europe, and drank because drinking the river water isn’t always safe.

Well, in this world there are things like Cleansing Magic which can “cleanse” the water and meals, but most people can’t use it so they just drink beer instead of water. So every house has a barrel with beer on it. It isn’t done in the houses, as there is a beer master who knows how to do it in the right way, but it is none the less a vital part of everyday life.

Incidentally, father knows how to use cleansing magic of the lowest level. It isn’t enough to cure diseases, but it can cleanse half-rotten food and impure water. I wonder where he learned it….

I hear a knock in the door. The first guests have arrived. Mother went there, and soon I tilted my neck.

There are two of mother?!

Oh, no, sister and brother are running to hug them, while shouting things like “Grandma! Grandpa!”.

I see.

***

I knew mother was special. From all I could understand, she is 29 years old this year. Father will be 31 soon, sister 11, brother 4 and I, of course, 1.

None the less, mother looks like an 18-yrs old girl.

I first wondered if she had a noble-like upbringing, but the way she behaves… she may be a little snob, but her mannerisms are the same as the ones of the other people going through the street or working on the other houses.

She also has the skin and life marks of someone who worked since young, even if she looks as if she is 18.

And the reason now is clear. There is a woman in front of her, almost her exact image. She is now coming in my direction, and taking me. ~~I’m floating~~ just joking.

Her face is soft. Her skin is perfumed. What a difference. Mother, you should learn more from this woman.

From grandmother, that is. Even if she looks like she is your sister.

***

Grandmother and Grandfather from mother’s side where the first ones to come. They live in this village, and it seems mother has always lived here as well.

Grandmother is the split image of mother. Or rater it may be better to say mother is the split image of grandmother.

Before you ask, no, she doesn’t have pointy ears and her hair is only a shade of blond clearer than mom’s.

“As always, you seem the same as ever Marie. Good to see you Anton.” – Father has greeted both of them by their names, and the conversation became casual as grandpa is gently stroking my head.

His hands are even more callused than father’s! His skin is also more tanned, but he doesn’t seem to have any big scars and his nose is almost normal. I guess they didn’t get to meet each other as guard friends or anything.

“Good to see you also, Jhon. And this little one! My second grandson! How cute! Did you two choose a good name for him?”

“Yes. We have chosen to call him Alvin. Since his brother is Jacen.”

“Alvin ? Uuuhm…”

Grandma is making a complicated expression. I get you grandma. It isn’t the best of names. Why is everyone here named after a combination of their father and mother’s names?

At least call me something great like Alexander or Siddartha… and I shall shout out loud “Under the heavens I am the chosen one, the son of zeus amon, brother of heracles!”.

Joking. I wouldn’t do something so weird.

“Well, it is unusual, but I guess we can get used to it. So little Al, what do you think of your new name, hum?”

I think it sucked. But I guess I don’t have any other choice, do I ? It is the parent’s duty to choose the child’s name…

Ahh.

“Grandma! Hurt!”

You are hugging me too thigh!

Grandma seems a bit surprised.

“He can talk this much already?”

Mother sighed…

“He has been talking and walking for months now… he is even better than Jacen at spelling words…”

Grandma is making a complicated expression again…

***

I don’t seem to have a grandmother or grandfather from father’s side, but there is an uncle in a village nearby. It is a bit too long of a trip though, so he isn’t coming. But he sent a gift.

That is right, gifts!

It seems people give gifts to children at their birthdays!

Not that birthdays are so common… they are a little creepy actually, since they mark times when the child has survived beyond the usual.

Mother doesn’t seem to have lost any children so far, even if sister almost died of a disease. Luckily father and mother know a bit of magic, each, so they were able to save her life. But it is very common for children to die before completing certain milestones in life.

The times when children reach a point in life when they are clearly safe from this or that kind of danger are at the ages of 1, 3, 5, 10 and 15.

Death of infants beyond the age of 1 seem to be so common the child isn’t even given a name until this age. This world’s common sense says that when a house has produced a child and it is still under one-year-old the house shouldn’t even allow others to visit. Not even the grandparents. Only the immediate family can come and go. The only accepted exception is if the mother of the family becomes pregnant again only shortly after giving birth. Then she will need support.

Between the ages of 1 to 3 children die easily because of a series of reasons, so they usually are kept under constant supervision. However, others can already visit them, so the burden on the mother is reduced.

Between the ages of 3 to 5 the child is left mostly unsupervised inside the house, but it’s still forbidden from going outside.

Then, from 5 to 10 it is expected to the child to go out of the house and socialize.

At 10 they are "almost adults" and supposed to start working as apprentices on something.

The next birthday, at 15, marks the entrance to adult life. From there on people don’t commemorate birthdays anymore, and some even lose sight of what their actual age is.

But returning to the gifts!

This time mine are very little.

No, it isn’t because Jacen is throwing a tantrum in the corner, competing with me for the attention of the adults.

It isn’t for lack of people either, as more and more have been arriving from the outside. The living room is a little cramped already, and mother and her neighbor friends are moving to the kitchen to talk.

There is a lot of people. Most of our neighbors, father’s friends from work and also many friends from the village. Mother has lived here most of her life, after all.

The real reason why I haven’t got many presents is because the first birthday is more of a party to the parents than it is for the kid.

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Surely, I just got a name, so this is good. I won’t be “John’s newborn” anymore. I will be Alvin, or, as grandmother made sure to tell everyone, “Little All”. From Alvin to All to Little All. Grandmother was quick.

But most presents are everyday goods and help. Like special food, beverages, cloths or weird seeds which seem useful for making tea. Some people bring things like small hand-carved statues or weird creatures and other come empty-handed, but it should be expected.

Gifts for me myself include only the name given by my parents and some of the carved statues. One of them is of what seems to be a bird. Other is of a weird tiger-like thing with two tails with spikes on them. And the last one is of a man wearing some armor and standing guard with a spear.

Oh, yeah, I just discovered what father does.

He is the second in command in the village’s militia.

HI duties include mostly watching the gates and making patrols, but sometimes he has to command a force of around ten men around the forest to help the Hunters of the village with beasts or monster subjugation.

I trembled a bit hearing the word “monster subjugation” but it seems our region is very, very calm and pacific.

“Monsters” here include little more than horned rabbits, overgrow spiders and mad hounds.

The first are rabbits which grow a horn in their heads and become aggressive. The second are spiders around one-meter long which have a weak poison – lethal if not treated, but not a problem for father who can use the lowest level cleansing magic.

And the last are the more dangerous ones – packs of two to four wild dogs who get bright red eyes and become very aggressive. They do not get any other special skills like being bigger or stronger than the usual wild dog, but since they are very aggressive they can be dangerous.

Father knows them all well, since he used to be an adventurer before settling in the village and marrying mother. He never went past one of the lowest ranks of adventurers (the Lower Adventurer Rank, which is only higher than the Beginner Adventurer Rank), but he is good enough to deal with this class of monsters.

Well, it seems father won’t die so soon.

But I shouldn’t raise any flags.

***

In the end I became sleepy soon after the party had started. I could learn a lot of things, like father’s profession and that grandfather is a farmer and grandmother used to be a travelling peddler.

But there were many words I did not knew what meant, and the adults didn’t have much patience for explaining them to me.

The only one who expended a lot of time with me was Grandma. She would hug me and carry me on her arms at any chance she got. Jacen got jealous, so at some point she had to carry him too.

Still, I learned a lot. Let’s hope things keep being good and pacific from this on.

Ah, right, grandma used to be a peddler, right ? I wonder if she can read and write… I should ask her later.

But if I do, then how do I ask her about teaching me? I am not in scholar age yet.

Besides, mother is of the “long-lived race”, a race of humans who seem to have a very, very long lifespan. I don’t know her precise age, but maybe she doesn’t have much patience for teaching something so basic to me.

Well, it is decided. Next time I have a chance I will ask grandmother about it.

***

There have been a few changes in the house.

First of all, I now have a name so mother screams for me from time to time. I obviously come as fast as I can, since there isn’t much for me to do by myself.

Second, my happy time with mother’s breasts is coming to an end. Since my birthday mother has been making soups and having me drink a little bit of this world’s beer each meal, while also reducing my breastfeeding to a minimum. It’s a taste I am not used to, and my tongue isn’t much happy with it either. Salty vegetable and meat soups and bitter beer. Shouldn’t kids get milk and cookies?

At least there is a bit of spice in the soup, so it isn’t totally tasteless.

…. I have to admit that the transition is being though. Even in my past life I always used to eat sweets after every meal, like a super grown baby. I may have lost control a few times, and cried a bit.

One day older sister even took me and breastfeed me herself. Of course, her young body barely have small buds as breasts, but I did it regardless.

Goddess of purity, cleanse my impure heart for I have sinned.

Not to mention, sister was deeply flustered and her breathing was a little rough all the while she was letting me suck on her nipple…. Have I corrupted my older sister, or is this the awakening of her motherhood instincts?

Goddess of purity, exorcise the demons of depravity from my life and from my poor sister.

Ah, mother just yelled at her.

I am sorry Onee-chan. I made you get yelled at.  

Oh, yes, this world is indeed a very weird mix. There isn’t much of a polite speech pattern here, so people speak normally most of the time, even to their parents and elders. Like in the occident, it is the tone one speaks that determine if they are being respectful or not.

However, they seem to understand it clearly if I exchange “older sister” to “onee-chan”. Mother was a little surprised when I first did it, but no one else cared.

Is this something common from this world? Or maybe my otaku heart has moved their hearts in synch and the magic of anime has transferred to this world as well?

I am not sure.

Well, besides not having so much of my breastfeeding times recently, I have also being awoken for longer and longer periods of time, and boredom is starting to kill me.

Surely, one of the benefits of being one year old now is that I am allowed to play in the backyard, as long as it is still under supervision of mother or sister.

But our yard isn’t very big, and chasing after chicken gets boring after a while. There is plenty of other chores to do around the house, but I cannot help with many of them.

Also, winter is coming soon, so even father is starting to spend more and more time inside the house – since the farmers don’t have to plow fields in the winter and monster activity becomes smaller there is no need to patrol a very long distance - so everyone from the town’s militia gets some extra resting time.

It sure is boring~~~~

***

As winter progresses, everyone is starting to stay more at home. Sister is the only one who keeps training every day without rest. However, father and mother are expending always more and more time inside.

Not that they are idle.

There is a lot to do. Keeping the firewood stocks dry and preparing pots and picked food to last the whole winter for instance.

It is a time when there is a lot of work to do.

Also, the fireplace in the living room needs to be kept lit in order for us to have a warm house, but this task has been entrusted to older brother. He seems pretty happy to help us by being the fire keeper.

And me?

I try to help when I can, but no one trusts a one-year-old to do anything right.

So I wait an opportunity to prove I can be of use.

The opportunity came a certain day. Mother had just finished getting a large amount of herbs from her garden and spread them on the table. She was sorting them meticulously, looking for dried leaves and what was in good condition and whatnot.

That’s when I sat next to her and started to make small piles like the ones she was making.

At first she didn’t pay attention to me, thinking I was just playing, but I got very proud when she finally noticed I had sorted the plants accordingly.

“Oh my, Al, can you really tell the herbs apart?”

“Uhm! I can! Mother, what is this?”

"Ah, that plant? It is called Bigfoot, because of this engorged root you see? We use it to make medicine for when people get [frostbite]”

A word I didn’t know came up.

“Mother, what is [frostbite]?”

“[Frostbite]… how do I explain… you know how your fingers will get stiff when you put them in the snow?”

“Uhm!”

“So, if they get too cold they will start turning blue and you will have [frostbite]. It hurts a lot, so don’t ever put your fingers in

the snow for too long, okay?”

“Okay!”

It is frostbite then. But for mother to know herbal medicines… no, I should not be surprised. People from the countryside usually have this kind of knowledge.

“Mother, and this one?”

I was now holding a plant that looked very similar to rosemary.

“Oh, that? It is pine bush. We use it with peppers in the meat soup, so it can be made tasty. It is also good when you have a cold.”

Oh, so it is rosemary in the end. This isn’t just a medicinal garden, but a spices garden as well.

Mother is looking with me with a smile.

“Say Al, do you want to help mommy with these herbs?”

Yosh! I have decided! I will help mother with this, and learn everything she has to teach me about countryside medicine and spices!

…not that I am an enthusiastic botanist, but there is absolutely nothing better for me to do.

“Yes!”

“Then, let me teach you how to do it.”

“Mother, me too! I help!”

Ah, Jacen has just came over here from his post as fire keeper. His rivalry with me is as strong as ever.

Well, there is plenty of wood in the fire still, so we don’t need to fear it extinguishing so soon.

Like that the three of us started to sort through the herbs of mother’s garden.

It was an instructive day, and at night father brought some wild plants with him and joined us.

Mother has also started to trust me a little more with tasks. After a few days she allowed me to help with putting vegetables in jars and other small tasks while she was preparing an assortment of pickled foods and preserved meats, cheese and other foods.  

Eventually we even had a warm bath once a week. They used the big tub I have seen before and a small clay furnace to heat it the water.

It was enjoyable taking a warm bath after so long, even if mother didn’t submerse me fully in water. I guess she was afraid I would lose control and contaminate the water or something.

Well, in the end I learned a lot of stuff this winter, so it doesn’t truly matter.

***

The winter is over, and boredom is striking me from time to time.

It isn’t as strong as it was during the autumn, since mother’s friends seldom come to chat and have a good time. Sometimes they even bring their own young kids with them.

Grandma have started to come more frequently as well, around once a week for one or two hours.

However, none of them give me much attention. They get tired easily when I start making many questions, and the children are mean to me.

The other day one of them hit me really hard for no reason.

It was painful, but at least it was fun seeing my older brother defending me. He and the other kid got into a hell of a fight.

It was the first time I had respect for my older brother.

Well done, Jacen. Well done.

Still, sometimes the one to hit me is Jacen himself, so I have been mostly lonely.

Kids my age don’t get my interest, the adults would rather talk amongst themselves and even grandma, who give me a lot more attention than the usual visitor, likes more to hear about me from mother than to talk directly to me.

I even tried to ask about reading and writing, but she didn’t give me much attention in any of the times I asked. The only time I got a reply from her it was something like “you are too young to worry about this dear. We will talk when you are older, okay?”

Am I being oblivious to something important here?

Well, at least I heard some interesting things.

For example, since it is spring, it is planting season. Not only the farmers like grandpa, but virtually everyone from the village is asked to help plowing the fields and spreading the seeds.

Even grandma helps, or she would come home to see me every day, she says.

The only ones who are exempt of this are the mothers who have to take care of young children, like Alice.

That’s why the housewives always bring kids between 1 and 5 years old with them….

Anyway, everyone helps in spring and autumn, while summer is the time when farmers like grandpa take care of the fields and winter is the time to process the products such as making pickled items, wooden furniture or just leisurely passing the time.

No wonder there are so many wood carvers in this town – anyone can use a knife and a piece of wood to take engraving as a hobby.

That said, the seasons themselves are pretty equilibrated. There aren’t great storms or the such, and in winter only a small amount of snow falls. That said, we live in the far north of the continent, almost at sea – so that is a bit surprising.

So, boredom.

What can I do about that?

Uuuhm…

***

 It seems I was mistaken about not having anything to do. After a few days laying around without doing anything mother started to get bothered with my blank stares and started to give me stuff to do.

Thinking better about it, I have never seen mother standing idle. She always has something to do, and her hands doesn’t stop – even when she is chatting with her friends.

Sewing, cleaning, cooking, feeding the chickens, repairing the fence, replanting the garden, doing laundry… there is a lot to do and when Jacen isn’t playing with other kids mother will get even him to help us. I have to admit, he has a way with some of the chores.

Sister…. Does her chores and trains her body for the rest of the day. Pushups, running, twig swings… she sure works hard. 

Mother sometimes looks at her with a clouded expression, and I wonder what happened between them… I guess I will hear about it in the future. Meanwhile, I do what I can. Light exercises like running around the backyard, helping mother, and that is mostly it.

Well, it is a newb's life. In the beginning you have to do a lot of grinding before facing your first real quests, right ? I will try and see this the same way.

***