2: Something... New

As I land on the ground and my eyes close I feel strange. It's weird instead or hurting or aching I feel oddly rejuvenated. As I open my eyes I don't see the sky or a building... instead I see a, roof?

"Well this is interesting" I mumble to myslef. Yet to my surprise my voice doesn't seem to be my own. Maybe if I was younger it could pass for my voice, but... I'm in my twenties?

As I look around I'm even more intrigued. The room is the same material as the roof, wood, but that's not the interesting thing. Instead of a Tv, outlets, or hell even lamps I see a bookshelf to my right beside my bed, to my left a nightstand with 3 candles on it, and on the wall to the left of my bed is a shield. The shield has crossed swords inside it. Next to the shield on the wall a window lets in natural light.

After seeing this I finally decide to move off the bed and walk around. There's a door right in front of me in a straightforward walk from my bed. However I first go to the bookshelf I feel as if somethings out of place. The bookshelf is 2 times my size. Wait the bookshelf is 2 times my size!? At my height I would reach about 3/5 the size of a regular bookshelf! My hight is at about 5'10, meaning this bookshelf is about 11 feet tall! Next I can't read the titles of the books on the side. I don't know every language, but I know for a fact that none look like this.

I decide to look at the nightstand. I check the compartment under the table of the nightstand, which also reaches up to the top of my head in height. In the compartment were just... clothes. A bit anticlimactic yet the seemed incredibly plain and dull for the current day and age? Not to mention the shield and swords.

I would like to look out the window to try and get a location, but it's increadbly high. So instead I go to open the door, right when I'm within reach it slams open almost hitting me in the face! As I back up and fall on my but I see in front of me a tall man with dark brown hair and eyes with a chiseled jaw, muscles and a small, stick? It has engravings on it like something you would see in fairy tales.

As he looks down at me on the ground a look of confusion washes over him. As I wonder why he's so confused. I hear him speak in a soft and almost quivering voice.

"S-Son?" He asks with an almost questioning confused gaze.

"T-Trish he's awake! He's awake!" he shouts with his head turned around and pointed at what is probably the hallway or a stairway down.

As I'm still processing this random man with a small pointy fairytale-like stick calling me his son, I hear footsteps as a women who I belive to be the "Trish" he called for run up some stairs.

"Roland what do mean he's awa-" She stops in her tracks as she looks at me. She's has black hair and red eyes which clash with each other as her surprised gaze and agape mouth stair at me.

"T-Trish he's actually awake." he says as his eyes look like they'll cry tears of joy any moment.

"b-but the doctors said he would never wake up." She looks at him with a confused gaze.

"Well the doctors were wrong!" He says in a proud manor. "Our son pulled threw."

As both Roland and Trish look at me with a face full of mixed emotions confusion, happiness, and glee, I Ask.

"Who are you?" My question bounces around the room in a voice that isn't my own.

The look at me with faces of sadness as Trish says to Roland who looks mortified "Its only natural he wouldn't know who we are Roland... I mean he's been asleep for five years ever since he was a baby."

"I-I-I know b-but still he doesn't even know his own parents." Roland replied ask tears were rolling down his face while Trish was trying to confort him.

As this was happening my brain started to try and understand this situation. Based on the information so far these people think I'm five, and the're acting like their my parents. This might explain why everything seems so big as a five year old wouldn't be vary large, so the bookshelf might only be six or seven feet and the nightstand only three or four. Yet that dosnt explain the books themselves, or the decorative shield with crossed swords being in a childs bedroom, no to mention that random fairytale stick Rolands holding.

I believe before I decide what to do about this situation I should first gather some information. So lets try to, play along with being a five year old.

"Parents?" I ask in the most confused, childish way I can.

After they both look at me Trish says crouching down to my hieght in a kind motherly way "Yes honey were you parents." She continues with "I'm your mother, can you say mother?"

"... Mother?" As I say that I can see Roland gaze at Trish as he says.

"Hey no fair I wanted him to say my name first." When he finishes I see this person I just called mother turn around and say "bleah" as she sticks her tongue out at him.

This begins some bickering back an forth which lets me collect my thoughts. As I'm thinking through I hear my stomach grumble loud enough to stop my "parents" banter.

"Awww... is our little Zenith hungry? Oh that's right I was preparing soup! Roland, can you bring him downstairs please. This is going to be his first meal!" After she finished saying that she quickly ran downstairs leaving me and Roland alone.

This break in the action again let me think again about how she called me Zenith, guess that's what they chose to name me. My thoughts cut off once I felt myself being picked up and brought down the stairs. The first thing I saw was a door that I guess leads outside. to the right of the door was a stone counter that was against the wall and above the counter were wooden cabinets. To the right of that I saw Trish looking at a metal pot on a fireplace against a different wall. in the center of this kitchen area was a table with four chairs, one of which my "father" set me at.

"Zen." My "father" addressed me crouching down to my level."Me and your mother have taken care of you these five years... despite what anyone said or told us, because we truely believed you would one day wake up. I-I just want you to know we both are s-so glad your finally awake." By the end of his sentence he was crying again, so he took a minute to wipe away the tears streaming down his face. After he finished I heard Trish's voice.

"If you keep saying things like that you'll make him cry too you know." She said even though it looked as if she could barely hold back her emotions. "By the way dinners ready." She said as she laid the metal pot that contained soup on the table, and went to get wooden plates from the cabinets for everyone.

"Thanks honey." Roland replied with an at ease expression.

Once he replied, the food was set out and everyone was at ease, I decided to try to understand more of the situation. "Mother, Father why was I asleep for so long?"

They looked at each other with sad expressions yet seemed to agree silently that I should know. "Zen, according to the doctors its because..." Trish paused halfway seeming to become more sad from the mention of the fate the doctors dealt me. "Its because your connection to the world is weak."

...Huh. What does that mean? I thought to myself silently, trying to understand, however I felt it would be better to just ask. "What does my connection to the world have to do with why I was asleep?" I asked.

"Well Zen..." She again paused making me wonder if it was that important. "It means the world didn't supply you with enough of its magic to keep you awake. Zen the world we live in runs on our magical power. So the stronger our connection to it the stronger we as people are. The greatest kings and nobles usually have a strong supply of magic power from our world, while the weakest farmers or slaves usually have a low supply of magic. This makes the Amount of connection you have to the world very important. That also why everyone we asked to help heal you wanted us to just, let you die." After realizing what she just said she tried to backtrack in an effort to comfort her son. "T-t-t-that's not to say having a low connection to the world is a b-bad thing, after all the world still needs farmers to thrive!"

After hearing that I wondered if this was just my fate. While I was XXXX I had to climb out of poverty in order to try and fight my fate, yet I still didn't feel anything. Now I'm Zenith a boy that for 5 years was unable to wake up because the world and society chose to discard him. This made me dispare, and wonder if this is just my fate. Always living a life that's looked down apon, never getting a chance to actually love anything I do.

As my thoughts conclude to this one point I wonder if this new world required me to find an "out" as well.

"Growl" Well I guess I can figure that out later, right now I'm hungry.

As I begun to eat the soup out of the wooden bowl that was prepared for me I felt the gazes of this body's parents. They seemed so full of love and true happiness that their son had finally woken-up and was eating his first meal by himself. It made me feel both jealous and sad for this body. He had such good parents that chose to protect him no matter what. That was something I had always wanted and wished for deep down, yet at the same time this body would never know. The true Zenith has no memories or history, no thoughts or pre-existing emotions. He never got to see and hear the sorrow or happiness in his parents voices, never got to go outside or try to succeed despite the odds. I wonder, if we had switched places, would he have chosen to take an out just because he was finished fighting... I wonder.