I never understood why people would sacrifice themselves for strangers? But some people say, "it's a nice thing to do."

But here, I am doing the same thing I hated about people. I had pushed two kids away from a speeding bus.

I was hit instead and died instantaneously. What a fitting way to go out.

At that time, I still wanted to do so much with my life as a man, to find a wife and start a family. At least that's how I'll be remembered. Hopefully, the two kids will live on and remember the man who saved them.

Anyway,

I can't do anything about it now. What’s done is done. I might as well see what the afterlife has in store for me.

Or so I thought... When I awoke, I was floating in a place I didn't recognize.

It was a place full of darkness. Is this what they call the abyss? But strangely enough, I could see things.

I didn't feel hunger, and there was no pain or suffering. I was numb to everything.

I was merely the drifting existence of my old life.

And then I saw a dimmed light that seemed to get brighter and brighter, too bright for my eyes to handle. Then everything went blank.

When my eyes had adjusted, I looked at my surroundings. I heard muffled voices saying, "Congratulations, he's a healthy baby boy."At least I can understand the language. That's a good sign, but where am I, and what happened?

Once I started to focus more, I could make out three figures: a doctor with a tired-looking face with gray hair, black eyes, and glasses that went over his face. The sweat is coming down on both sides of his face, and a small beard is coming in.

It seems I have been reborn in a different part of the world or something. I wondered how that worked. Are there people in hooded robes that sit in a circle with candles lit and chant words? Then, POW, you've been reborn.

It seemed as if I was born inside a house and not a hospital. That's strange. In what part of the world are you not in a hospital? Oh, well. The house was made of brick with a few windows with no glass, also strange. I must be in the northeastern part of the world since there are no windows.

As I focused on the other two figures before me, I looked at the one cradling me and saw a female saying she was my mother would be fair, taking a few moments to take in what she looked like, I would be lying if I said she wasn't beautiful, but that might be because of my half-blurry eyes. Rather than beauty, I'd better describe her as lovely in a very gentle and kind sense, with dark black hair and deep purple eyes. I couldn't help but notice her short eyelashes and perked-up nose. That made me want to hang an ornament from it. She releases a kind of warmth of motherly love.

I upturned my eyes to look at the figure behind her that could just make out the person I would assume to be my father by the teary-eyed gaze and cheerful grin he was wearing. He said, “Hey Quintan, nice to finally meet you and welcome home.” I adjusted myself to get my mother, father, and the house doctor in view (For all authorization he had.), my mother looked at me, then my father, “we are so happy you were born.” I got a closer look at my father, and I could see why my mother fell for him. Other than the overjoy face he was wearing by expecting a newborn, he was a very charismatic-looking man with a clear, sharp jawline that complemented his features. His hair, a very dark deep black like my mother, flowed long down to his shoulders that can be kept in a ponytail, while his eyebrows were strong and fierce, extending in a sword-like manner. Yet his eyes had a gentle quality, whether it was from the way his eyes dropped a bit at the end or from the deep gray, a hue that radiated from his irises.

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“Hmm, is there something wrong, doctor? He isn’t crying. I thought newborns were supposed to cry when they’re born.” My mother said.

“There are some rare cases where infants do not cry. Please rest for a couple of days, Mrs. Whitlock, and let me know if anything happens to Quintan, Mr. Whitlock.”

A couple of weeks after my journey out of the Abyss was something unspeakable, I forgot how to move my limbs except being able to move my body, and barely able to do that.

I had realized that babies can’t control their fingers all that much.

I don’t know if parents know this but when you place your finger on a baby’s body they don’t grab it because they like it, they do it because you’re crushing their little tiny bones, it's a reflex it’s like getting hit by a mosquito and smacking it.

Not only that, but I had no control over my body, I couldn’t even control my bladder. It just… flowed out.

But other than that, some of the perks that I became happily accustomed to are my mother's warmth.

The place of my summoning seemed to be my parent’s room from the objects inside I could assume

The place that I’m stuck in was, hopefully, a place in my old world from the past, where lights have been developed

But that hope was quickly destroyed by my mother as one day, my undeveloped hands grabbed a chair, but they were unable to support my body, and the heavier back of my head hit the ground.

My mother healed the bump on my head from the fall. And no… not like, Band-aid or kiss heals a full-blown, bright shining light with a hum from her hands sort of healing.

It seems we’re not in the northeastern part of the world, so where the hell am I?

My mother, Rebecca Whitlock, and my father, Ryan Whitlock, were good people, maybe even the best people I ever met. My mother had to have been a priest because I’ve never met such a kindhearted, and warm person. Being carried on her back we went down to the town she called. The town of Athephis was a town on the outskirts but wasn’t dried out or a ghost town. We walked on the main trail where there were merchants and salesmen on both sides selling all sorts of things like weapons, armor, gems, and potions.

One thing I couldn’t wrap my head around was the people who were carrying their weapons like a backpack or handbag. A man was carrying a gigantic hammer bigger than himself! Meanwhile, my mother would talk to me to get me to learn the language faster (even though I already knew it).

Sitting beside my mother while she caresses me with her bosom, I was focused on my father who was practicing his swordsmanship, which was doing a set of different forms. I leaned in closer and closer, almost falling out the window when I noticed the air around my father seemed to be moving around him. When I focused a bit more I could see that the air was moving with him with his movements, NO!. It wasn’t moving with him he was moving he was controlling it himself. He struck a nearby tree with a clean-cut the tree toppled over.

What was that?

I threw my arms up in admiration, my father waved with a smile on his face saying “Your dad is amazing right?”

Yes, my father was a good fighter even with just his sword. When he would use the sword I felt a sense of admiration or something as if wanting to lay down my life just to follow the man in front of me. With the smooth and fluid movements that didn’t match his size, his strikes would carry enough power to break the sound barrier itself but would leave no openings for attacks from enemies.

From what I learned, this world is filled with magic and all sorts of different things from my previous word; power and wealth ould decide your rank in one’s society. In that sense, it was far from the same as my old world, except for the lack of technology.

In my old world, wars would be the obsolete form of settling a dispute between countries. Don’t misjudge thorough armies were still needed for the protection of the citizens of said country. But things that involved the wellbeing of a country were settled by war.

Therefore, armies still needed people to fight in them so they had to be fit and could handle certain things.