It was a rainy day, the sky dark as the thoughts of the old soul that received a new body. A young body, a baby body.
The cry of the baby sounded through the castle. The new maids are happy, the old ones annoyed. “It’s a boy.” the Obstetrician Healer said. One of the many specializations a healer can have in a world where even the dirtiest beggar has a little of magic. “He is healthy and his mana veins are suitable for a battle mage.”
And last but the most important, the man makes a little incision on the feet of the baby, a drop of blood, he seems to be analyzing with an intense glare, takes out a blood glass bottle and inserts the baby blood in it. There is no change.
The room suddenly makes a silence in the middle of the baby cry. “The boy is the king's blood.” Say the mage, and the tension escapes the air as it came, quickly and without words. The mother smiles and the doctor leaves. (AN: something here doesn't feel right.)
The mother looks around the room, she evaluates every person in the room. At her right arm, her first maid, the one who will give her boy her milk first, before her own child, and frown. Right next she sees the Historian, the name giver of the castle, a man who gives name to every single royal spawn from so much time that no one knows his real name anymore, a cold blooded man, her smiles disappear.
At her left it’s her left is the one who will train her boy to be a Prince, a famous teacher that is known to make anything, and I really mean anything, to make a child learn in her own way. And last, the most worrisome of all, the King’s Right Hand, more known as the Hidden Hand of the king, the man that delivers death sentences in the name of the King. Today he was here in case of need, in case the boy wasn’t a King’s Blood. The King himself is a middle aged man, he is not so much interested in normal womens, preferring the other races than the humans.
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Diana had only one though upon analyzing her situation, ‘I don’t have any allies’. Tired of the delivery, she turned to Historian and looked in the deep of his purple eyes. The man could see her no nonsense attitude and spoke hurriedly: “This boy is not something expected, he doesn't have enemies but he doesn't have allies either and his father won’t ever like him, his name is Archie, Archie Tristan Kingsblood.”
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Archie POV
I just passed through a hole that I am sure that my head wouldn't pass. I don’t have control over my body, I don’t have any muscle, I can’t see very well, after a foot things blur as if I was miope. I listen to cry, I try to move my head to the direction of the sound and I find that it's hard, but I keep trying and I find a man looking at me with a focused facial expression. I look at exactly what he is looking at and see a baby foot, coming from naked baby leg, coming from my body.
‘Ahh, I am a Baby, and I am screaming my lungs out.’ I try to stop, little by little my cry decreases in volume. The man speaks something, but I don’t hear it well and passes me to what I assume to be my new mother. She smiles at me looking like what the sun looks to the moon, love is not explained. But soon she looks up as the door closes, (The doc going out) her smile gradually disappears and in her eyes,little by little, a violent gleam shows itself to the world.
This moment is my first memory in this new life, the memory of what I will protect with my heart and soul.