Life, for an aware adult trapped in an infant's body, was a tedious cycle of managed crying, feigned naps, and constant mental vigilance. I was stuck in a world that would soon tear itself apart, and the only other person who might understand the gravity of that—Rudeus—was finally leaving.
The day of my older brother's departure for Roa had arrived.
I was watching from the window of the living room, propped safely in Lilia's arms. The backyard was where Paul and Rudeus held their daily training sessions. The sunlight was sharp, and the sound of colliding wooden swords echoed.
The training session finished abruptly after lunch. I watched as Paul cornered Rudeus, his voice rising in an unusual, strained way. I couldn't make out the words, but the scene was clear: Paul was delivering the news of Rudeus having to leave Sylphie. Before Rudeus could even process the emotional impact, the fight began. Paul charged instantly, a flurry of aggressive, unreadable movements. Rudeus instinctively used a small burst of Earth Magic to create distance, but Paul was too fast, too experienced in dirty fighting. A moment later, Rudeus was knocked unconscious.
It was a cold, necessary separation. Paul's way of ensuring his son went down the path he'd chosen for him.
While Paul settled Rudeus onto a wooden bench outside, Lilia, Zenith, and Paul began an intense conversation. Just then, a carriage pulled up to our small house.
A woman stepped out, and my breath hitched—or rather, my rapid, shallow baby breaths caught in my throat. This was my first time seeing a true demi-human in this world.
She was muscular, statuesque, and had prominent, twitching cat ears crowning her head. She was wearing shockingly little, her powerful body only partially covered by what looked like an animal hide that barely covered her private parts.
"Ghislaine Dedoldia," I muttered internally, the name clicking into place instantly. The Sword King of the Sword of Light style.
Paul and Zenith greeted her, but my attention was diverted by my sisters. Aisha and Norn, both now mobile enough to crawl and hold on, were shrieking with delight. Ghislaine was playing with them, her rough hands surprisingly gentle as she let the girls grab at her long, dark hair. They didn't see a terrifying warrior; they saw a huge, playful cat.
Then, Ghislaine stopped playing. She said something to Paul, and all three adults—Paul, Zenith, and Lilia—turned their heads. They looked straight at the house, staring and pointing at me.
Oh, great, I thought, mentally groaning. Here we go.
Ghislaine left Paul outside to watch over the still-unconscious Rudeus and entered the house with Zenith and Lilia. Lilia proudly carried me forward for inspection. I stared at the Sword King, noting the intimidating musculature beneath the simple clothing, the sharp, intelligent gaze in her golden eyes.
Ghislaine walked towards me, her face breaking into a wide, challenging grin. She reached out to pick me up.
This was a moment of true danger. A Sword King would have an incredible sense of body language and intent. I immediately deployed my strongest defense: the infant routine.
I started to wail, my face crumpling into a mask of distress. As she gently lifted me, I thrashed my tiny hands around, putting on a convincing show of a baby who wanted nothing more than to be put down.
It was an accident. A complete, horrifying accident. As I flailed, my hand swung wide and connected with the flimsy covering over her chest. The thin leather, held by a single knot, loosened. My arm, driven by the thrashing, struck the loosened cloth and pulled it completely aside. The moment I felt my head falling toward the exposed skin, instinct—the terrifying, demanding instinct of a suckling baby—overrode all conscious thought.
My mouth clamped onto her breast. I began to suck.
The room fell into a heavy, absolute silence.
I could feel Ghislaine's muscles tense beneath my face. My adult mind was screaming a thousand apologies, mortified by the vulgar public display, but my infant body was stubbornly, uncontrollably, getting milk.
Ghislaine, however, broke the tension first. Without a hint of panic or embarrassment, she simply walked toward Lilia, who was wide-eyed with shock.
"I think he is hungry," Ghislaine stated simply, her voice flat.
Lilia quickly put down the slightly confused Aisha and snatched me from Ghislaine's arms, turning to hide my face as she instantly pressed me to her own breast. While I resumed drinking my intended meal, Ghislaine adjusted her clothing and immediately started a boisterous game of chase with Norn and Aisha, the moment seemingly forgotten.
Sucking on Lilia's breast, I had time to process the near-catastrophe. It was an accident. It was the body's instinct. It was a terrifying reminder that my adult will was utterly subjugated to my infant needs. I resolved to be more careful, more controlled.
After finishing, I acted out the final stage of my routine and pretended to fall asleep, eventually drifting off for real.
I woke up in the evening for dinner. After playing briefly with my two sisters, who were now blissfully unaware of the afternoon's chaos, I was put to bed.
As I lay there, the simple wooden ceiling above me, the finality of the day settled in. My current most dangerous threat, Rudeus, was gone. It would be years before I had to deal with his suspicious gaze again. I had three years of relative peace ahead of me to gain strength, control my body, and prepare.
Three years until the Teleportation Incident. Three years until the sky would burn and the world would rearrange itself. I had to be ready. That thought was the last thing I clung to before finally, genuinely, falling asleep.