Chapter 1 - Baby Steps

One foot, two foot...what’s a foot? What are these words? Words? What are those? I’m really confused.

“LOOK AT HIM!” comes an excited squeal from what the word things in my head call my mother, Fei.

“Huh... what’s going on?” a tall, well-built man with black hair and blue eyes, apparently my father, staggers drowsily into the room from his bedroom

“HE’S WALKING!” 

Oh is that what I’m doing? Walking? Sounds weird. I like crawling better, it seems easier. Why am I even walking? Wait... how do I even know how to walk? Yup, there I go. This is gonna hurt. Thud.

“What are you doing on the floor, Sylifan?” my father, apparently awake now, jokes as he lifts me into his arms.

Sylifan? What’s a Sylifan? Oh wait, I’m a Sylifan. I thought I remember father saying we were humans but I guess I’m a Sylifan, whatever that is. Can I go back to the floor? It wasn’t as terrifying as being tossed in the air. 

“He’s not crying?” a young girl, with bright blue eyes and long red hair, who I’m told is my sister Itheia, questions.

“You’re right. How odd,” acknowledges my mother.

“Crying is a weakness for men like us, right Sylifan?” declares my father, who looks at me with weird eyes that I really want to disagree with for the fun of it.

Crying...what is that again? A weakness? Men? Us? Is father also a Sylifan? I don’t know. I’m just gonna go with it. Actually I’m just going to stare blankly at the blue-eyed giant holding me. Wait, I can't see him anymore! Have I gone dea- I mean blind!? Wait… that’s just my hair. What a relief. 

“wwaaatt?” someone says in an incredibly undeveloped voice.

Oh wait, that someone is me. Now my family is just staring blankly at me. Great, I guess I failed them as a child. What are they gonna say? Wait, what's a child? I dunno, but more importantly, are they going to yell at me? Nevermind my mother’s face just lit up in jubilation.

Rushing up to me, my mother demands excitedly, “Now, say mom.”

“wahy?” I ask sleepily.

I guess that was the right answer? I’m getting looks filled with more elation and shock than earlier. I don’t think that should be possible, but who knows, maybe I’m just tired. Actually I am tired. I'm going to sleep instead of questioning what elation and shock are or what the concept of time is.

SIFER

This kid of mine is destined for greatness! …or chaos. Either way he’s definitely going to be something special.

“Is this normal for a child his age?” I ask no one in particular.

Shaking off her excitement my amazing and gorgeous wife, Fei, replies “No… maybe we should take him to Silva’s. However, Itheia, it's off to bed with you.” 

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As a man of great talent, strength, and charisma I take the initiative to grab my son and, along with my wife, rush to the path leading to a pleasant little home situated on the outskirts of a forest. A lesser man would look in awe at the imposing river and luscious forest that looms ahead, but I am no such man. Knocking on the door, there's a short delay before the door is opened to a fatigued elderly woman, seeming a bit irritated, but obviously not towards me.

"What do you need at this ungodly hour?" The purple-eyed woman manages to piece together in her drowsy state.

Hasty and apologetic in her speech, my wondrous wife explains, "I'm sorry to disturb your rest, Silva, but my child began to walk and talk today, and I was worried-"

What a wonderful reminder that my son is a genius! He can both walk and talk and he's not even a half-winter’s old. Reminds me of myself except, I'll admit, a little bit better. Fei is staring at me now, gesturing at me for some reason. After I give her a blank stare, the love of my life proceeds to take a step towards me, and takes something from my arms, letting Silva inspect it. After taking a glance at whatever is in my wife’s arms, she invites us inside of her home. It’s a lovely place, very simple and cozy with a pleasant minty scent. Very suitable for the old miser she is. My wife places what is in her arms onto a simple wooden table with a cloth laid out over it. Wait a minute... is that Sylifan? Oh that’s why we’re here, to get a check up for Sylifan. How did I forget that? 

Silva begins to inspect Sylifan’s condition. I learned some advanced military medicine during my time in the army, but what she’s doing is far too complex for me to understand. Though that clearly reflects nothing about my capabilities. If I practiced the medical arts, I would totally be at her level.

Directing a serene gaze towards my wife, Silva says, “Calm yourself Fei, your child has no illness. But for your sake, I shall take a deeper look.”

With those words spoken I feel the pressure in the room increase many times, as if life itself was rejecting its own existence. The very world urges me to bow until something in my blood stirs, wiping away any signs of subservience. For a second I feel a terrifying pressure right beside me, coming from my wife, threatening to destroy all it envelops. Looking at my wife I see her trembling, holding something within her back. Grabbing her hand I look straight into her eyes, giving her the most comforting smile I can. It’s certainly one of the most handsome sights one can ever see. The combating pressures fade as my wife’s aura restrains itself. For the millionth time, I’ve thwarted a disaster in the making. At the same moment that the pressures recede, the cost of time begins to fade from Silva, her entire being perfecting itself, her youth returning to her and her eyes turning an auspicious cyan.

With words seemingly pulled from a reluctant heart, Silva murmurs, "A cursed child; blessed in spirit, broken in body." 

With a solemn grace she finds herself once more, placing Sylifan back in my arms as the evidence of her power fades as her age returns. So, my son is blessed in spirit, but of course he is; he's my son after all! But what was that about a ‘cursed child’ and a ‘broken body’?

As I finally grasp the seriousness of the situation from the frightful expression of my wife, all facades are dropped and a simple question is voiced: 

“What does that mean?”

“I’m truly sorry, the aspects of our world are not fated to be in his command.” she explains. “His mana body is broken.”

Fear and distress written all over my wife’s face, tears begin to fill her eyes as she slowly comes to grasp what Silva’s words meant.

“Can nothing be done to fix it?” I ask.

“Well… no I really shouldn’t say anything.”

“Of course.” I sigh. “‘Time is immutable’, was it?”

“I’m truly sorry, Osilus.” 

“Your apologies are long overdue, Timekeeper. I no longer need them.” I say in resignation. She really has nothing to apologize for. She was not the culprit.

“Fine!” She declares mildly annoyed. “I’ll tell you this, and you will listen well. Your brothers and their friends will need help if they are to live beyond the next few decades. You should know that well, Oracle.”