Noname, since he couldn’t remember his name from before, was staring at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. As such, it didn’t take long for him to start studying the runes. Trying to decipher the secrets within, and learn how they worked. Unsurprisingly, he wasn’t making any progress in this endeavor. The tapestry of symbols made up of simple and complicated shapes, and all of it woven together, forming an intricate puzzle, to which he was only partially seeing. His infant vision wasn’t the best, not that he could complain, given he couldn’t be more than a day or two old.

So, Noname wasn’t distraught that he couldn’t solve the mystery before him. It wasn’t like he had much personal experience with magic anyways. He’d seen its workings of course, been a servant to a mage or two, but they had been tight lipped about their secrets.

Still, even with his novice understanding of magic, he had the foresight to understand that the piece of workmanship before him must be important.

Maybe.

So far, the only thing, other than giving off light, was the runes had changed colors. The standard was white, which after staring at for so long was starting to hurt his eyes, but they changed randomly at times. Some runes would become yellow, while others further away changed to green, and the rarest color of all was red. A deep, and ominous crimson, that made his instinct scream when it appeared; he’d learned to listen to that feeling above all else.

The number of times it had gone off, only for him to ignore it, and die a moment later, had made him keenly aware of its purpose.

A purpose even more important in a realm of magic, where he was sure there would be something mighty that needed to be slain, or avoided at all costs. So, he went back to studying, he was sure at any moment enlightenment would strike, and he would become a master that will ben—

Whimpering sounds echoed in the air; instantly his hands pressed against the sides of his head. It spared him from the worst stabs of pain, as the screams of infants sounded off. Each passing moment caused another voice to be added to the chorus of agony. He wished a great deal that he wasn’t an infant, instead matured, and in the position to leave, or try and sooth the children; sadly he could not do either. No, he was stuck trapped on his back, forced to wait out the torturous song, and pray that another woman would come to sing the children back to sleep.

His instinct began to press upon him, its presence filling him with dread. It took him a moment to understand why. Due to the noise, and the pain it brought, he’d scrunched his eyes shut, and attempted to focus inward in order to escape the ruckus. But the touch of instinct had them opening again, and his sight returning to the ceiling.

Runes were changing colors, green, yellow, orange, and many turning a deep red. A heart, his heart, hammered in his chest as he watched the whole domed roof begin to shift into that worrying shade.

Before he had a chance to fully register what was happening, a figure loomed over him. The woman was scared out of her mind, and snatched him up, allowing his view of the realm to change. The chamber was circular and large, with rows of cribs all around. There were other women all hurrying about grabbing babies left and right. The woman carrying him grabbed another child, then marched to the exit with many others.

This normally would be a wonderful moment, since he was smashed up against the woman's chest, and finally receiving some affection. But with another child right by him, screaming its lungs out, and the ceiling dyed in red, the moment was somewhat tarnished.

The positive was he could finally, though limited, look around even with his fat head. There were guards pouring into the chamber as they exited it, covered in leather like armor with metal plates in all the needed places. They carried with them fancy looking spears, each with a glowing gem of sorts, one lodged just below the spiraled tip.

Accompanied by the red glow of the runes, the guards looked intimidating. However, the illusion was somewhat broken by those with open helms, since he could see their faces, and witness just how scared they were. It was fair to say that the sight was not encouraging, and in response he pushed his face into the woman’s chest. He tried to enjoy that small comfort, while instinct pressed upon his shoulders. The dread reminding him that death was near, even though the threat had yet to reveal itself.

A few seconds after doing this, Noname heard a hymn be performed. Its soothing touch washed over his body, and muted the children. Reluctantly he moved his head away from the woman and gazed forward. He found they were in a large tunnel, one that let three people walk side by side with ease, and its arched ceiling provided plenty of head space. On the walls, ceiling and even floor, were the same complicated patterns of symbols giving off their white light.

‘Huh, well would you look at that,’ Noname thought amused. ‘I was right, partially.’ The runes really did act as these people’s only light source, and now warning system.

More guards passed them, and with the red threat no longer distracting him. Noname paid closer attention to the anatomy of his new kind.

All were covered in a layer of short fur, ranging in a variety of browns, tans, dark grays, and pure black. Unlike the women, whose ears fell downward passed their shoulders. The men’s stood up right and alert, and often flexed about. Their eyes were large, maybe half the size of a closed fist, and were pitch black. Their faces were similar in shape to that of a canine, as for their physique, even covered in layers of cloth, leather and steel. The men were rather frail looking in his opinion, with their thin limbs, hooked legs, and pawed feet.

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Hazy recollections informed him of times where he had been part of more robust species. The type who would have looked at this race with scorn or mockery.

Still, their nimble frames did allow them to rush past swiftly, and gave Noname some comfort. If the worst came to pass, danger near, at least those carrying him could promptly flee. Perhaps that was what this race did? Run from danger rather than fight, because from what he was seeing, they were not the best lot to be doing the latter.

If these men did not know some all-powerful spell to vanquish foes, or weapons to even the odds. He might as well kill himself... right… now ….

His vision blurred as that thought struck something within him. An instant later it felt as though a hot poker was rammed into his skull. He went numb, his sight going black as a chill ran down his spine. Images appeared before him, small amounts at first, but when he focused, it all came rushing forward. Lives, so many lives, all playing the same scene, moments where he thought that exact same thing, before later acting on it. So many cut short, many that didn’t deserve to be thrown aside.

‘This is it,’ he thought, the key, the action he had been doing repeatedly.

Every time life was too difficult, or he deemed it not worth the effort, he would end himself. The next life would be a little harder, or not to his liking, and he would repeat the process again. He could see it, the blatant pattern displayed painfully clear. His attempts to fall into a meaningful life was causing the exact opposite outcome. Lives were getting harder, his positions in societies further away from ideal placements. Little by little his acts were pulling him further from what he desired, all of it leading to his current predicament.

The women hummed, breaking his concentration and quieting the children that began to whimper again. It seemed different than last time, or perhaps his body was tiring from the overstimulation, but he felt himself getting drowsy.

As his vision returned in full, he found the memories he’d witnessed bleed away. Like a dream that had been so clear a moment ago, they faded, leaving only glimpses behind. The details were lost to him, but the overall picture was there, he’d caused this darkening spiral, and in order to stop it, he would have to change his ways.

He had to stop giving up, cease throwing away his life. He had to live, he had to try, and if he did not?

‘Gods how bad will it get?’ The thought horrified him. ‘How far will it go? Will I one day just wake up in Hades?’ He wasn’t sure, and didn’t want to dwell on it anymore. In fact, he couldn’t, the drowsiness was growing worse. He would have fallen asleep if not for the pressure of instinct, that bundle of nervousness that kept is eyes open.

With the children quieted again, he noticed the women were talking with each other. Though he didn’t have a clue of what it was about, since their speech sounded like musical notes to him. His carrier was leading the pack, though he was not sure if she was the actual leader. But at least she seemed to know where she was going, though sometimes he wished she would go in a different direction. A few tunnels they traversed did not seem to be well maintained, since the runes were dimmer.

It didn’t take much foresight to know that dim runes equaled bad. That, and the women’s voices cut out after the light dipped to a certain point. Plus, they made sure their movements produced as little sound as possible. During such times, he prayed in all the verses he knew, that none of the children would wake and begin crying.

A shared thought, since his carrier kept looking down at him and the other child. She shifted the positioning of her arms a second later, allowing her to place a hand over his mouth. He didn’t complain, even if he could have. It was for the best, just in case something jumped out and got a shriek out of him.

Minutes passed after, yet they kept onward, turning left and right in a seemingly endless maze of tunnels, all with runes carved into every surface. Truly there must be something abhorrent behind the walls for a people to go to such lengths.

Looking at the runes with a growing sense of fondness, he thought: ‘Oh esteemed gods, please let that be my job. Bestow me the chance of carving patterns into new tunnels, rather than facing the threat out there.’ He would take years of endless boredom, over fear-ridden days ending with a painful death. And with how everyone was acting, that was exactly what seemed planned. So, he doubled his efforts on prayer, while the women ferried him to safety

***

By the time they reached their destination, the runes around them were fully powered and casting their white light. Not a single mark of color was to be seen as his bearer guided the group into a large circular room. One filled with multi-colored crystals that centered around a jewel the size of a person’s head.

Plus, slabs, lots of slabs, which they were being placed on. Blankets were removed, leaving him and others naked on cold stone. It must have been a record for those babies to be jolted awake, wails rising, then silenced with the hymn of sleep.

Still, even with those soothing sounds, it wasn’t comfortable. Doubly so, since he’d been in a situation like this before, though not a room full of it.

The memory became clearer the longer he stayed on the stone table, till eventually, the past played as though it was the present.

He had been alone, naked, and strapped down as a group of people sacrificed him to some deity of theirs, which entailed him getting knifed in the gut.

The recollection had him swallowing hard. He desperately wanted to look up and gaze about the room, alas his head was still too fat to be moved in such a manner.

With nothing else to do, he spent the time praying it would end quickly. A child’s body shouldn’t last longer than an adult, so perhaps he wouldn’t live long enough to watch as they pulled his innards out.

With the children asleep, or lulled into a half wake stupor, he heard the rushed movements as people hurried to ready their sacrificial ritual. So much so, that compared to their quiet travel through the tunnels, the women around him were making quite the racket. Because of this, and nothing else to distract himself with, Noname watched the ceiling, waiting for the runes to start changing hues.

'I’ll do better next time,' he thought. Once this act of madness was done, he would be off to the next life, one hopefully better, and free of this constant feeling of wrongness.

‘Gods, give me a chance,’ he prayed, reciting the words in his mind over and over, pleading for the next life to be kinder.