Re:Beginning

I cocked my head as I stared intensely at the varnished roof. A blemish. Another. A third. I counted the moles on the otherwise clean roof, but there were too many to keep track of. Dim light spilled over a polished window. Fresh sunlight. This wasn't my home.

I let my strangely tired head rest on the soft, unfamiliar cushion. Nowhere near as soft as my pillow, but it smelt much better. All of a sudden, a mouth-watering aroma wafted through the air, demanding my attention. I tried to turn my head towards it, but it barely budged.

Confused, I tried to lift my fingers, my limbs, and my body, but they remained unresponsive. I felt like a puppet whose strings had been cut. In the end, the only movement I had actually managed was a slight turn of my head towards the smell.

I was trapped in a wooden cage, one fitted with sheets of white as bedding. In the distance, I could hear the vague sounds of people speaking. Two women, chattering away while they stirred a stew of some sort. One of them seemed to have said something funny because the other giggled immediately afterward.

I squinted my eyes for a better look, but my vision was the most blurry it had ever been. I could barely see the silhouettes of the women, and poorly see their hands moving as they prepared food. Food for whom, I wondered. I doubted it was for me.

Then, I tried to awaken my limbs once more, with not much success. It was frustrating, and weird, not having control over my limbs. People always say 'like an extra limb' but they never say what it felt like without them.

Frustrated by my futile attempts to move, I surrendered. Shifting my focus, I decided to explore my surroundings instead. My eyes, as though drawn to them, landed on the two women first. Through my blurry vision, I could see the vague flickering of a cozy fire in the hearth near them, bathing the entire house a warm yellow. I didn't understand why, but the warmth of the fire brought me an indescribable sense of belonging. Another unfamiliarity.

Meanwhile, The women seemed to have finally noticed my awakening and had begun approaching my resting place. Their steps were light and quiet, as though not wanting to awaken a terrifying beast. But their expressions proved otherwise. Bubbly expressions that could barely contain their excitement, seemingly one moment away from bursting out in joy.

As the distance between us grew shorter and shorter, it became apparent to me just how unusual the situation was. My natural instinct to panic and run had disappeared, replaced by a sense of… joy…no, expectation of some sort. Addicting.

They towered over me from outside my wooden prison and were whispering rapidly to each other in hushed voices. I must have been the topic of their conversation, because they constantly glanced towards me, their eyes filled with unexplained giddiness.

The older woman tapped the other girl's shoulder and pointed toward me as if beckoning her towards me. The girl's response was comedic. Her expression was shocked, and she was exaggeratedly waving her hands in front of her. I didn't understand what was happening, but I laid completely still, not that I could move.

All of a sudden, the older woman pushed her forward. She yelped, but eventually obliged. She bent her body, bringing her face and arms closer and closer to me with awkward movements. She hesitated and stopped halfway. Finally, I could get a good look at her.

Flowing brown hair that fell down her back. Dazzling blue eyes. Pallid skin that seemed to have never touched the sun. But what captivated me was her smile. She smiled, smiled with something much more than just kindness. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of overflowing compassion in it, one that you would see only once, maybe twice in your life. A smile that had never been directed to me, until now.

She scooped me up with one fluid motion, but not without accidentally squeezing my skin. It took me a moment to notice. Both the fact that I was being held in the air like a baby, and the fact that my armpit hurt. But I didn't even try to sound out my confusion, I was just too mesmerized by her.

She bounced me up and down, and spun me around in circles. Weird, were the walls always spirals? A chide came from the older woman, hopefully telling the bubbly girl to calm down. Which, to my relief, she did. She lowered her head meekly, holding me close to her chest. But her radiant grin was still present. Then, I heard the first words I had understood since mysteriously appearing in this place.

"He's so cute," She said whilst poking my nose.

"Too much strength," She chided from behind, her posture and tone was stiff as stone, but the otherwise gentle smile on her face said everything. "And yes, Mia, I agree."

Mia's fingers ventured into my hand, and my tiny fingers reached out and gripped it. For a moment, I looked at them in shock. Based on the past few minutes, I could guess it, but didn't want to believe it. Had I really become a baby? Her grin widened if that was even possible. She seemed to be obsessed with poking me. My forehead, arms, legs, cheeks, nose, everywhere. Occasionally, my throat would let out a child-like giggle, to my utter surprise.

"It's time to put him down," the older woman said. "The stew won't wait."

"Yes, Mom," Mia gently placed me into the crib but lingered for a moment.

"Mia."

"Coming!"

She took one last look at me, before gliding away. Now I finally had some peace and quiet. Some time to digest what had just happened.

I tried to lift my tiny arm up, but it remained dormant. It seemed I had truly been reborn as a baby. Why? Had life really not forsaken me? Even after I had forsaken it…?

Furthermore, my surroundings didn't seem to be modern. After all, what country still had live fires in their house at all times? Not to mention the lack of any electrical appliances. Could this be the past? No, wait, how did I get reborn in the first place?

Too many questions, too little my body could do about them.

Any more futile questioning would end up being counterproductive, so I decided to listen in on Mia and her Mother's…our Mother's conversation… One that I had taken from the owner of this body. Enough. Enough thinking.

I could barely hear their words, apparently a baby's hearing wasn't very good. But I could roughly fill in the blanks of what Mia said: "Will brother become a mage?" The mention of 'Mage' caught me off guard. Magic? It seemed unreal, but in this mysterious place, anything was possible. I pushed the thought aside, intending to ponder it later when my mind wasn't clouded by the strange circumstances.

"What are you talking about? Aurelius has no talent for magic." Mother said. "Nobody has."

"It's possible," Mia turned to look at me. "Dad always said so."

"Mia."

"Wouldn't this be what Dad wanted?"

"Mia."

"He always wanted to be a ma-"

"Enough." She slammed the lid onto the pot. "Enough."

"You promised him."

"I. Said. Enough."

"Ma-"

"Goodnight." She turned her back to Mia and stomped out of the room without another word.

I watched the scene unfold with blurry eyes. Something must have happened to the household before I was born in. Perhaps the father had died. And by the looks of it, magic had been involved.

I stared at the disappearing figure of the woman, her footsteps echoing through the silent room. She dragged her feet across the floor, taking a moment to limp on the walls. She sat on the set of stairs. Away from the warmth of the hearth. She slipped something out of her pocket and squeezed it, holding it close to her heart, as though it would give her some form of consolation.

A few minutes of silence passed, broken only by the incessant bubbling of the stew. Mia stood motionlessly, blankly watching the stew. Her smile was gone. While Mother must have sat alone, in the darkness, separated by a wall. The firm pillar I had first imagined her as suddenly felt so shaky. The once mouthwatering smell of the stew suddenly felt so heavy.

With clunky movements, Mia picked up the pot and set it aside to cool. Then she walked over to me and stared deep into my eyes. For a moment, I thought had been found out. But then she picked me up, this time without squeezing my skin.

She turned me to face the window. She didn't speak. Didn't move. She just stared at the window. I wondered if she was looking through it, or the faint reflection of us.

But I stared, petrified, at our reflection. More specifically, at 'me'. Brown hair like Mia's. Pallid skin like Mia's. Blue eyes like Mia's. No, like Mother's. Cold, distant eyes that seemed to see further than necessary. Eyes that lived under terrible pressure.Had I inherited those? Or had they come with me.

She stood there for a few moments, before she sighed and spoke.

"I like the snow. Aura."