The Noble Family

The first days of Arth's new life were a whirlwind of sensations and discoveries. He lay in his crib, taking in the lavish surroundings that indicated his noble birth. The crib itself was a work of art, carved from dark, polished wood with intricate designs.

The room was grand and luxurious. Tapestries adorned the walls, depicting scenes of knights and mythical creatures. Rich, velvet curtains framed the windows, offering a view of manicured gardens and a distant, imposing castle wall. The air was filled with the faint scent of fresh flowers, mingling with the polished wood and rich fabrics.

Each day, a kind maid would visit him. She spoke gently, her words flowing in a melodic language that Arth couldn't understand. Her eyes were warm, and her touch was tender as she cared for him, changing his clothes and feeding him. She wore a uniform of deep blue with white lace trim, and her hair was neatly tucked under a white cap. Arth watched her closely, trying to mimic the sounds she made, but his infant vocal cords could only manage soft coos and gurgles.

Despite the maid's presence, Arth couldn't help but wonder about his family. He knew he was part of a noble household, but where were his parents? Why had no one else visited him yet? He could hear distant voices and footsteps echoing through the grand corridors beyond his room, hinting at the busy life of the household, yet he remained isolated in his crib.

As he lay in his crib, Arth's sharp mind took in every detail of his surroundings. The walls were adorned with tapestries depicting scenes of epic battles and mythical creatures. One tapestry, in particular, caught his attention. It showed a majestic dragon soaring above a group of knights, its scales shimmering in the light. The intricate details of the artwork fascinated him, and he often found himself staring at it for long periods, trying to make sense of the story it told.

The room was filled with ornate furniture, each piece a testament to the craftsmanship of the artisans who had created them. A large wardrobe stood against one wall, its doors carved with scenes of forest animals and birds. A plush rug covered the floor, its rich colors and intricate patterns adding to the room's opulence.

Arth's crib was positioned near a large window that overlooked the gardens. Through the window, he could see neatly trimmed hedges, colorful flower beds, and a fountain with a statue of a woman holding a vase from which water flowed continuously. Beyond the gardens, he could make out the silhouette of the castle walls, their imposing presence a constant reminder of the family's noble status.

On the first day, the maid who cared for him seemed to sense his curiosity. She would often pause in her tasks to point out different objects in the room, speaking to him in that unfamiliar language. Arth observed her closely, noting the kindness in her eyes and the gentle way she handled him. Her uniform was always immaculate, the deep blue fabric contrasting with the white lace trim. Her hair was neatly tucked under a white cap, and she wore a small brooch shaped like a rose pinned to her collar.

Each day followed a similar routine. The maid would enter the room in the morning, her presence always bringing a sense of comfort to Arth. She would pick him up, cradling him in her arms as she spoke to him softly. Though he couldn't understand her words, the soothing tone of her voice was reassuring. She would then feed him, using a silver spoon to offer him small amounts of a creamy substance that he found surprisingly delicious.

After feeding him, the maid would change his clothes. Arth marveled at the tiny garments, each piece meticulously crafted from fine fabrics. She would dress him in a soft linen shirt, a pair of woolen trousers, and a tiny vest embroidered with intricate patterns. Once he was dressed, she would place him back in his crib and tidy up the room.

During these times, Arth would listen intently to her conversations, trying to pick up on the language. He noticed that she often used the same words and phrases, and he began to associate certain sounds with specific actions. Though he couldn't yet speak, he was determined to learn the language as quickly as possible.

Despite the maid's care, Arth couldn't shake the feeling of isolation. He wondered why no one else had visited him yet. The distant voices and footsteps he heard through the walls hinted at the presence of others in the household, but he remained alone in his crib. The absence of his parents was particularly puzzling. He had expected to meet them by now, to feel their warmth and love, but there had been no sign of them.

On the fourth day, the door to his room opened, and a tall, imposing man entered. Arth immediately sensed that this was his father. The man had an aura of authority, his presence commanding respect. He had dark hair, streaked with silver, and piercing blue eyes that seemed to hold a world of emotions. His features were sharp and dignified, and he wore a deep burgundy cloak with intricate gold embroidery and a crest that Arth assumed was the family emblem.

The maid bowed deeply as the man approached the crib. Arth looked up, meeting his father's intense gaze. There was a flicker of something in those blue eyes—pain, perhaps, or maybe even resentment. His father spoke, his voice deep and resonant, but the words were lost on Arth. The language was still a mystery to him, but the tone carried a mixture of emotions that even a baby could sense.

His father stood over the crib, silent for a moment, before speaking again. This time, his voice was softer, almost hesitant. He reached down, placing a hand gently on Arth's small head. Arth felt a complexity in his father's feelings—a blend of sorrow, regret, and a touch of bitterness. The warmth of the touch contrasted sharply with the coldness in his eyes.

Arth's father, Lord Elarion, lingered for a few moments, his gaze intense and filled with unspoken words. Arth tried to understand the source of the apparent resentment. He had no knowledge of his mother's fate or why his father might hold such conflicted feelings toward him. The gods had mentioned nothing about his family in this new life, leaving him to piece together the puzzle on his own.

The visit was brief. His father soon turned and left the room, leaving Arth to ponder the heavy silence that followed. The maid returned, resuming her duties with a gentle smile, but Arth's thoughts were consumed by the brief encounter. He resolved to learn more about this world and his family, to understand the language and the dynamics at play.

In the days that followed, Arth continued to observe his surroundings and the people who entered his room. He listened intently to their conversations, trying to pick up on the language and piece together the fragments of his new life. The luxury of his surroundings and the care he received from the maid confirmed that he was indeed part of a noble family. However, the complexity of his father's emotions hinted at deeper, more personal challenges he would need to face.

As the days turned into weeks, Arth's understanding of the language began to improve. He listened closely to the maid and others who entered the room, picking up on common words and phrases. His young mind, still sharp from his past life, quickly adapted to the new sounds and structures. He found that he could understand more and more of what was being said around him, even if he couldn't yet respond.

One day, while the maid was tidying up the room, Arth overheard a conversation between her and another servant. The other servant, a young man with sandy hair and a cheerful disposition, mentioned something about "Lord Elarion" and "Lady Fiona." Arth's ears perked up at the mention of these names. He knew that Lord Elarion was his father, but the name Lady Fiona was new to him. He listened intently, trying to piece together the context of the conversation.

The young servant spoke in a hushed tone, his words filled with sympathy. "It's been hard for Lord Elarion since Lady Fiona passed. He hasn't been the same. I think he blames the child, in some way. It's difficult to lose someone you love so dearly."

The maid nodded, her expression somber. "Yes, it's tragic. Lady Fiona was such a kind soul. She loved Lord Elarion deeply, and I know she would have loved her child too. It's a shame she didn't get to meet him."

Arth's heart ached at the realization. His mother had died giving birth to him. This was the source of his father's resentment. Lord Elarion had lost his beloved wife and, in his grief, seemed to blame Arth for her death. The weight of this revelation settled heavily on Arth's small shoulders. He wished he could do something to ease his father's pain, to prove that he was worthy of love despite the circumstances of his birth.

Arth's journey was just beginning, and he knew that to navigate this new world, he would need to understand not only the language and customs but also the hearts of those around him. With each passing day, his determination grew. The gods might have placed him here with hidden motives, but he was determined to uncover the truth and shape his own destiny in this new world.