There is a bright light at the end of the path. That is pulling me.
A muffled voice. The voice. Why is the voice so familiar.
"Congratulations Sir and Madam, you have been blessed with a healthy boy."
...I'm back
The light at the end of the path is the light coming through a females vag...
Let's not think about this no more... hehehe.
Opening my eyes, my retinas were bombarded with light so intense it was as if a fireball was being concentrated directly at them detonating inches from my face. The world gave me a violent surge of brightness, colours and shapes fractured by glare and shimmering objects. Colours then started blending into each other—blues that almost looked white, greys—that almost looked black and patches of shadow and movements scrambled around. The figures around me blurred like silhouettes, flickering at the edge of my line of blurry sight—I couldn't tell if this was a dream or a dream state aftermath were it is now torturing me. My eyes instinctively filled with tears, moisture cooling the burning sensation as it adjusted to the lens of the world the lens starting giving everything outlines and clear colours. The world still painfully bright, finally had familiar shapes and colours feeling real.
What an interesting way to get this life restarted. With this sticky gooey substance covering my body. My new body or is it old cause I had it once.
A pure white cloth wrapped around my body neatly restraining me. I look around.
I saw my mother who just pushed me out. Her amber eyes filled with joy and care with her distinct brown hair blowing into my face. I couldn't help but notice her unnaturally long eyelashes and her perky nose that made me want to pull unto. She permeated her motherly feel emanating a sense of gentleness and kindness. Is this why babies and young children were attracted to their mothers.
I peeled my face off her shoulder looking up.
My father. His bold, black side burns swept down his cheeks, like a thick toothpaste, seamlessly merging into his full moustache that framed his mouth with practical precision. The connection was flawless the sideburns to the moustache, his face sketched with intention and pride with only his chin standing out in contrast as a patchy afterthought. It was almost like a unfinished painting rugged and messy, but unforgettable for it.
"Doctor, why isn't my child crying. I thought all babies cry—my other children did when they were born."
The doctor picked me up turning me to meet his him face to face. His glasses so thick they almost looked bulletproof with a string of grey hair covering it. As it piqued my interest I attempted to grab it. The doctor pulling me away handed me back to my mother.
"That is probably because of the high magic affinity your child has at a young age, but also mysteriously he seems to be emanating aura surrounding his body. It could just because he is an Aurellian that he has both but he may have health problems in the future so be careful of what you do with him. Otherwise he may turn out to be a big disappointment in the Aurellian standard."
The doctors words were words I've heard a million times. You have been gifted with so much Matthias. High affinity magic... aura... but possible health problems. That was incredibly generous. In reality they couldn't work together at all. It was like oil and fire the two gifts are not meant to blend. I'd try to channel one, only for the other to spike and tear through my body. Magic fizzled out. Aura slipped from control. Every attempt left me fractured, drained, humiliated. In the end, I was left scraping by with the bare minimum—able to use only the weakest forms of magic. A gifted failure I became. Came as the chosen one to surpass the shoes of the previous, but in the end I left a fraction of who I was.
But now...
I understand what it meant by using the ha-pri ha-asur. I can feel them both truly well. The magic warmly moving through my veins sharp and delicate. The aura pulsing beneath the skin.
They're not fighting anymore, but is very much aware of the existence of each other.
Testing.
Dancing.
Attracting.
My body still small and frail needed to improve. To strengthen to handle them fully. Already, the magic started to gravitate towards the aura—tiny slips of energy being pulled to its rhythm. I can feel the sparks if its becomes any worse it will become a storm.
This time I will be ready. And this time I got everything I need and actual knowledge to do it.
My research will not go to vain. The discovery of the ha-pri ha-asur. I'm so happy my past self just knew how to do light magic the weakest, yet the most intricate—most unreasonably hard one as well.
The light allowed for the creation to be done holding the properties of light with its absence working as darkness. When it fades it births shadows, but when it burns it reveals all.
The doctor was scribbling on his board glancing back at my mother who was cradling me close as if holding me tightly could remove all the dangers and curses from my body.
"Have you thought of a name sir and madam?" the doctor's asked, his voice clinical.
She stared right into my eyes gently brushing her nose against my forehead.
"Matthias," she whispered, as if she wanted me to hear the name first. "He is a gift."
The doctor paused his attention grabbed by the name. "A traditional name," he said, surprised raising his eyebrow. "Do you know the meaning behind the name madam."
She nodded softly, "I know."
Kissing my forehead.
The doctor snickered, "I hope he lives up to it then."
My father who was silent until now. Stood up placing his hand gently on my mothers shoulder stepping forward—not bristling, not defensive but steady.
"He already has," his voice reassuring, calm and clear like he would fight the world for me. "You do not need to earn a gift like that. You just need to grow into it and he has all the qualities to surpass the name."
The doctor took a step back. "Of course."
My mother curled me up tighter to her chest. My father gave her a small nod. In the warmth I felt a shield between the two of them.
No expectation.
But love.
A name not given lightly. A name with a lot of weight. But, luckily right now they were holding that weight for me. Like Atlas holding the weight of the heavens they were holding my world. The world I've yet to grow into. As right now I am allowed to rest.
My father leaned down, his broad frame casting a dim shadow. He reached out, rubbing his calloused fingers across my cheek gently. My mothers heartbeat thudding softly against my ear scaring off all the germs, curses and stress out. Wrapping her arms around me.
My eyes, burning from the brightness began to fall. As the light grew dimmer the world seemed to melt, into a deep pool of twilight.
For now, I slept.