“Dalleon,” A voice nagged at me, unforgivably persistent. “Dalleon,” It continued. I tried to push it away, to stay in my realm of dreams. Alas, it was a fruitless effort, and I eventually relented, opening my eyes. I closed them immediately, the bright natural light beaming into my eyes. Above me I could make out the maid, Emisa I think it was, staring down with a bright smile.

I opened my eyes, blinking groggily. “Good morning, Master Dalleon.” She slowly bent down to pick me up. Placing her hands under my armpits, her muscles strained as she carefully raised me up and laid me against her shoulder. She gave me a little squeeze, and brought me over to the dressing table.

I looked out the window into the backyard. There was a low layer of fog, and the grass had wet dew. The vegetable patch sat near the back wall that encompassed our house. The clouds overhead were slowly blocking out the sun.

What a dreary day. I thought as the maid methodically changed my diaper in a way where the least amount of piss would get on her. I couldn’t blame her. I hated changing diapers, even for my own kids.

My kids.

My mind was brought to my loved ones every once in a while. Even though I’d gotten over their deaths several years ago, the thought made me realise the reality of my situation: I was stuck here. Well, I guess not stuck. Death was an option.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t do anything about it. Best was to embrace it. I have been given a second chance, and I’ll be damned if I don’t give it my best shot. To be honest, it’s not depressing. Have you ever asked yourself, ‘Why do I exist,’? If you have, the feeling I get is kind of like that.

Anyhow, let’s get back to diapers, and smelly ones at that. Just look at her face!

My knowledge may be far higher than that of a normal child, but my body still lacked control. Mainly control of bodily functions and fine motor skills.

After the maid had changed my diaper, she picked out my clothes. Today's apparel was a laced up white shirt, dark brown cotton pants, and some incy black shoes. It was normal for a lord’s son to wear clothing like this, unlike the common folk who wore tattered dirty clothing, even if we had a local well. It took too long to wash clothes every day which means people would stink sometimes, it would be unheard of on Earth. Accept for my son in his younger years, smelly little bugger…

The maid picked me up once more and walked out through the hallway, down the stairs, and into our dining area. Once there, she placed me into my special chair and left to complete her other daily tasks.

I sat for a few moments before Mother walked in, carrying her journal and pen. She usually would sit with me as I ate breakfast, jotting away in her notebook, her mind far away. It was just out of my line of sight, so I always wondered what she wrote about. She kept it a secret from everyone, including Father.

As she walked past me, she spoke. “Good morning, sweetie. Hope you slept well.” She pulled out her chair, which was right next to me, and sat down. Father and Mother usually sat to each side of me, and since I sat at the end of the table, they would face each other. This allowed either one of them to easily help me without moving, and let them talk to each other.

Soon, the maid came out of the kitchen carrying a tray of food. There were two bowls of oatmeal, a platter of fried eggs, and bacon. We could only get bacon because of the pork raised by the local villagers. She walked over to mother first to place her food in front of her, then walked over to me and gave me a bowl of oats. It didn’t have quite enough water in it, so I could grab it, but it was still edible. As usual, I ate in a fashion that got food all over my face. I concluded that no one had heard the water hit the floor last night, and that I was safe for now. It could have dried overnight. the maid could have cleaned it up. The possibilities were endless, but for now I was safe. That was all that mattered. I would have to be more careful about practising my magic though; making sure I had enough left to disperse the water before my Mana stores depleted.

Midway through eating, my mother spoke. “Dalleon, would you like to go out today? I would like to amble around the local markets. My journal has run out of pages.” The question caught me off guard as I had never left Father’s property before. I was so surprised that I almost broke character and nodded. Realising that I shouldn’t understand what she said, I chose not to even acknowledge the words. I just smiled at Mother, laughed, and continued eating my food. My mother smiled back at me. “Aww, who's my little angel?” She stood up, ruffled my hair, untightened the leather strap, and lifted me out of the chair. Laying me against her shoulder, we walked over to the sitting room, where she gently placed me down onto the floor.

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Now that I could walk around, I took it as a chance to burn some energy. I began to run in circles as my mother watched, her joyful laughter naturally bringing me a smile. I continued to run, but soon lost balance, falling onto my butt.

This is a prime example of how my knowledge is of an old man, but my mind and body of a small child. My reflexes told me to cry; to scream out, yell to express my pain. Even though I knew I shouldn’t, instincts took over, and I began to bawl. Big, fat tears began to roll down my cheeks.

Mother rushed over to me in a state of panic, immediately scooping me up and carrying me to the couch, where she cradled me in her arms. As she slowly rubbed her hand on my head, she said little affirmations, such as, “You’ll be okay, buddy,” and, “You’re a strong boy, you will get through it.”

Soon enough, I got myself together and the crying slowed. “See, I told you everything would be a-ok.” Mother said as she placed me into her lap. I laid my head on her breast as she pulled out a book titled ‘Tales from the Depths’ by the Happy Sisters. “Might as well read aloud, although you probably won't remember any of this,” Mother licked her finger and flipped to the first page. “Let’s see… Oh! Here’s a good one,

Once upon a time, there was a little wolf named Emery. His old grandfather got sick, so his father decided that Emery was to visit him. The father gave him a piece of finely marbled venison and some homemade glaze. He then placed it all in a picnic basket, tied a green cloak around Emery’s neck, and sent him on his way. Emery’s grandfather's house was across the forest, nearly a half-day's walk. But no challenge was too hard for him. So Emery started his journey.

He walked through the dense trees and across a rapid river before coming to a fork in the road. To the right, the path led straight to his grandfather’s house, while to the left lay a human village. Emery started to go right when a little girl stepped in front of him.

“Hello,” She said. “Where are you heading?”

“I’m off to see my sick grandfather.” Emery replied. “He’s sick, so I’m bringing him some meat to eat.”

“That sounds lovely, but where does your grandfather live? You look like you’ve been walking for an awfully long time, you must be tired.”

Emery nodded his head in agreement. He had been walking for a good couple of hours, and there was just a little bit left of his journey. “My grandfather lives about a mile that way. It shouldn’t take too long for me to get there. And then I can relax on his soft chairs.”

“Oh, well, that's too bad.” Singed and cupped a hand to her cheek. “I saw a piece of rope not too far away.” She pointed off into the woods. “If you could find it, I’m sure your grandfather wouldn’t mind waiting a bit while you rested and played.”

Emery knew he shouldn’t, but he was kind of tired. So, he thanked the girl and headed off to find the rope. Behind him, the girl ran back down the left path and disappeared. She fetched her father—a hunter—and together, they made their way to Emery’s grandfather’s house.

Meanwhile, Emery had found the piece of rope. He set his picnic basket down and was about to go play with it when a deer ran through it. It tightened, and suddenly, the deer was hanging in the air by its legs. Shocked and scared, he picked up the basket and ran back to where he had met the little girl.

She was nowhere to be found. Emery started walking down the path on the right, jumping at every twig that snapped and every leaf that rustled. Eventually, he made it to his grandfather’s house, and gingerly knocked on the door.

“Come in!” A low, resonant voice replied.

Emery stood there confused for a second. This wasn’t his grandfather's voice. But he soon brushed his suspicion off, Grandfather was sick, so it made sense that his voice sounded weird. He opened the door and walked inside. It was a small house, with only a few rooms: the bedroom, a bathroom, and a central area that contained the kitchen, dining room, and living room. Emery placed the basket he held on the table and walked over to his grandfather’s room.

“Hello Grandfather.” Emery walked into the bedroom to where his grandfather lay on the bed. “My, what smooth skin you have.”

“All.” Grandfather replied.

“What small eyes you have!”

Why, grandfather looked vastly different. “Grandson, come here.” ‘Grandfather’ patted his bedside, beckoning Emery to come closer.

“What small hands you have.”

“All the better to strangle you with.”

“W-what a long stick you have.”

“All the better to shoot you with!”

With that, Grandfather picked up his gun and tried to shoot Emery. He ran away as fast as he could, glimpsing a patch of fur stuffed beneath the bed. That was his real grandfather. Killed by the little girl’s father—a hunter—for eating a few chickens from the village for food.

As—

“Oh gosh, look at the time.” I was shocked out of my trance of amazement when Mother looked out the window. The sun was nearly halfway up in the sky and it was almost noon already. “We better get going if we want to get to town in time.”