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Trying to live peacefully in a dark dystopian tragedy novel.

Ean could not remember his name in his past life, but he remembered how he died. Reincarnated into a dark fantasy world and abandoned by his father early on for being born powerless, Ean has to find a way to survive with his too kind of a mother in this tragic dystopian world. Even in his past life, he didn’t have any outstanding gifts. His grades and looks were all average. If there was one thing he was good at, it was his people skills! The same reason kept him from being jobless one life ago despite being terrible at his job! With this one talent, will it be enough for Ean to survive and find reliable allies to aid his mother's small territory from unimaginable horror? And what is that ringing he keeps hearing in his head.

CoconutMilk_90 · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
8 Chs

Chapter 1: A New Life

He opened his eyes and saw an unfamiliar ceiling. He tried to get up but found he was wrapped in something. He opened his mouth to call for help.

Waa-aaah??!

His cry rattled him. 

What? He heard some commotion outside his view, and then suddenly, all he could see was an angelic face surrounded by gold rays that filled his view and the most beautiful and warm smile ever bestowed upon him.

The woman was speaking a language he could not understand. She placed both hands on either side of his body and…

LIFTED HIM UP!! WHAT THE HELL?!

Waaaaa! He cried in surprise! He struggled and fussed despite the woman's soothing voice. Then one of his hands came out from whatever was restraining it and-

his hand… was small… and pudgy.

Omg. Oh. My. God. I'm a baby??!!

Stunned, he stopped resisting the woman, and she seemed relieved. He stayed in shocked silence till he noticed-

THE WOMAN WAS TAKING OUT HER BREAST!!!

Before he could stop himself, he started crying! Too many complex emotions were being experienced by such a tiny body! 

Then he was latched. His mind went blank as soothing vital nutrition filled his belly. He couldn't fight the baby instinct. He got teary but had to give up, as he realized that when he started drinking the milk, he was starving!! 

The woman kept talking soothingly to him. One word kept repeating.

Ean.

Was that… his name? This woman was this body's mother…

Was he reincarnated? So, he did die at the train station.

Feeling sullen and uncomfortable, he unlatched from his mother and squirmed. Another woman was there, helping his mother move him to her shoulder and gently patting his back.

He burped. 

He took a moment to orient himself and observed his surroundings.

It was a large room decorated in a modern 18th-century European style with white and black accents.

It was clean, cold, and masculine, only what was necessary. 

It doesn't fit the woman who's holding him.

She felt warm, light, and free.

There was only one other person in the room. She had on a servant's uniform. She had pale blond hair tied up in a low ponytail. Her face looked stiff as she stared coldly back at him. His attention turned back to the woman holding him. His mother. Her smile was just as warm and comforting. She was singing to him now. He stared wide-eyed at this angel of a woman. She had bright golden curls running down past her waist. Bright pink eyes and fair white skin. She looked so young that he was feeling a bit concerned. 

Please don't be underage, he thought to himself. His "Mother" turned to the servant and said something. The servant replied crisply. He watched the angel wilt a little as she turned back to him, rocking him gently. He felt his eyelids growing heavier and heavier.

His last thought before falling asleep was; I have to learn the new language quickly!

——————

One month later.

Ean came to this new world one month ago. During that time, he did a lot of thinking, as it was the only thing he could do.

Number 1.) HE could no longer remember his past life's name. He still remembers his experiences, but his name escaped him every time. It's the only thing missing from his memories. He sometimes feels homesick and wonders how his parents and younger siblings are doing. His greatest regret is that he couldn't bring them closure. He wished to say goodbye and tell them he loved them one last time. If he could find a way to tell them he is fine and doing well somewhere far away and not cry for him… Sigh, These are the woes of the dead, if there ever was one.

Number 2.) This world was in another reality. In this world, Magic was a fact! His mother conjured some 3d ice animals from a cup of water to entertain him, though they only lasted a minute or two. I can't wait to see more when I get older!

Number 3.) His mother seemed to not have a good status in the household. Judging from the servants around him and his mother, they only seemed to make the least effort and kept verbal communication to a minimum, from the unappealing food to their attempt to keep the room clean. 

His poor mother must have been so lonely. That's probably why she talks to him so much. Thanks to that, though. He's figured out some words already.

Like Hello, good mornings and good nights and I love you's… And milk.

He doesn't know if any of his maternal grandparents are still alive, but no one has come to visit them.

Number 4.) His father is an Asshole. That man is a no-show for approximately 30 days. So one month. Either that, or he's dead. No in-between. He doesn't know yet what the calendar system is like, so he can only compare it to his previous world experience.

and lastly,

Number 5.) I. Am. Dying. Of. Boredom!!!!! Babies can't do anything! I cry just for fun! I stare death glares at the crib mobile animals for hours. I envision ways to disassemble them and burn their pieces one at a time! Until it's feeding time. I strain my ears to hear anything from outside. I only feel alive and stimulated when my mother talks to me and shows me her Magic!

I have already grown numbed to feeding, diaper changing, bathing, and baby talk. None of my body functions to listen to me. Once, I accidentally grabbed my hair while trying to practice opening my hands, and it hurt like hell. I started crying. My mother saw and panicked, which wasn't much help. She called for a servant to help, but I had already let go of my hair when someone came.

I must endure this for a few more months until I start crawling.

I was hanging out in my crib while my mother sat by the window and sketched something in a notebook. I saw some of her sketches by chance while being moved around in the room, and let's just say I have a talented mother!

I was disrupted mid-thought by a loud Banging on the door. My mother hastily stood up as a servant came in a rush and said something to my mother. They moved out of my view from the crib, but I could hear them rushing around, grabbing things and moving fabric.

After a while, the servant came and picked me up and changed me into the stuffiest outfit I had ever been in. Oh, dear lord! I fussed to make sure they knew I was unhappy. But then my mother came and carried me, looking anxious, so I called down because I didn't want to worry her anymore.

She was wearing a much fancier outfit than usual. She even had earrings on—I've never seen her with jewelry. And her hair was braided and neat. Gosh, my mama's so pretty!

We walked through a long hallway with floor-to-ceiling windows. Outside the window, there were many plants and vines. What little I could see of the outside was an untended garden. The sun was setting, and the barest hint of orange was in the sky.

Finally, we entered a double door that led to a balcony with stairs on either side that curved towards the entrance door on the first floor.

There were several servants all lined up to receive guests. Mother went down slowly and stood in the middle of the two rows of servants. I observed how nervous my mother was and made a realization.

His asshole of a father is here.