The training ended a few minutes later. Clavor delivered a final strike that sent Asmon’s sword flying from his hand, spinning through the air before embedding itself in the ground several ters away.
The boy fell onto the packed earth, panting heavily, his chest rising and falling in rapid motions. His shirt was soaked with sweat, and his face was as red as a ripe tomato.
"You’ve improved," said Clavor, sheathing his own sword.
"But you’re still leaving openings between your attacks. We’ll fix that tomorrow."
Asmon nodded, too out of breath to answer. He struggled to his feet, walked over to the sword embedded in the ground, and yanked it free with a sharp motion.
Judite applauded enthusiastically, running over to her father to earn a pat on the head.
"You were amazing, Dad! You sent Asmon’s sword flying so far away!"
"He’s improved too," said Clavor, running a hand through his daughter’s brown hair.
"Did you see how he almost hit at the beginning?"
"I did! I did! I want to start learning too!"
"I’ll teach you after your Awakening happens," Clavor concluded.
Aurora stood up, adjusting Lukas in her arms.
"Ti for lunch," she announced.
"Asmon, wash your face. Judite, set the table."
As they returned inside the mansion, walking through the stone corridors toward the kitchen, Lukas watched the blue sky above them through the open windows.
The distant trees swayed gently in the wind, and birds flew in circles over what appeared to be cultivated fields.
He spotted sothing large and dark on the horizon, perhaps a grazing animal, but before he could focus on it, Aurora turned a corner and the view disappeared.
’I need to grow up already.’
’I need to learn this language. I need to learn how to walk, to run, to explore.’
’And more than anything, I need to see the animals of this world.’
The following days passed with surprising speed.
Life in the Dmond mansion was simple, yet filled with small monts that Lukas was beginning to cherish.
He felt more and more like a part of that family, not as a temporary guest or a burden to be carried, but as soone who truly belonged there.
Aurora carried him all around the house while she went about her daily tasks. He learned to recognize the scent of every room.
The aroma of dried herbs from the pantry, the sll of smoke and ash from the fireplace, and the fragrance of fresh flowers that Aurora always kept in a vase in the living room.
When she sang to him, always the sa gentle songs, Lukas would close his eyes and let himself drift with the lody, his mind wandering through old and new thoughts.
Clavor, despite being serious and often absent during the day, always reserved ti to spend with his youngest son at night.
Their ritual was sacred.
After dinner, when Asmon and Judite had already been sent to bed, Clavor would sit in the chair beside Lukas’s crib.
Sotis he read aloud from thick, ancient books that Lukas could not understand but whose rhythm was comforting.
Other tis, he simply sat in silence, gazing at the fire or the dark window.
Lukas had learned that his father’s presence was a kind of silent affection, and he accepted it.
Asmon told Lukas "stories" whenever he could. They were confusing tales filled with unfamiliar words, but judging by the enthusiasm in his brother’s voice, Lukas guessed they were stories of heroic battles, defeated monsters, and future glory.
Asmon always ended with the sa sentence, pointing at the baby.
"And you’ll be the sa, Lukas. A great swordsman like us."
Lukas did not know whether he wanted to be a "swordsman."
But he appreciated the confidence.
Judite, on the other hand, treated him as her favorite living toy.
She dressed him in doll clothes whenever Aurora was not looking.
She placed flowers on his head.
She drew mustaches on his face with charcoal whenever nobody was paying attention.
Lukas, of course, could not complain but ntally rolled his eyes every ti his younger sister turned him into her artistic test subject.
There were monts when Lukas completely forgot that he had once been an eighteen-year-old young man.
He laughed at Judite’s silly faces.
He felt sleepy and nursed without sha, warm milk dribbling down his chin while Aurora watched him with tenderness.
He let himself be lulled by Aurora’s songs, the world fading into a comfortable haze.
Sotis he wondered whether it was his infant body affecting his mind, the hormones, the immature brain chemistry, the lack of complex stimulation, or whether it was simply... happiness.
Whatever it was, for the first ti in a very long while, he felt at ho.
’It’s not the ho I chose. It’s not the life I planned.’
’But maybe... maybe it’s what I needed.’
Even so, anxiety grew inside him like a plant searching for sunlight.
He wanted to move.
He wanted to crawl at least, to drag his useless body across the floor and explore every corner of the mansion.
He wanted to speak, not rely babble random sounds, but form real words and complete sentences, ask questions, and receive answers.
He wanted to leave the mansion and explore the world outside.
More than anything else, however, he wanted to see the creatures that inhabited this new world.
Lying in his crib on a quiet afternoon, while Aurora napped in the chair beside him and sunlight filtered through the gaps in the curtains, Lukas stared at the wooden ceiling with violet eyes shining with determination.
’I will find out.’
’No matter how long it takes. No matter what I have to do.’
’I will see every animal in this world.’
’And I will study them. I will understand them.’
’That is why I was born again.’
At that mont, at the height of his silent resolve, Lukas felt sothing walking across his body.
It began as an itch on his foot, a tiny tingling sensation, almost imperceptible, on the big toe of his left foot.
He thought it was his imagination or perhaps a muscle spasm.
But then the itch moved.
It slowly climbed along the sole of his foot, circled his heel, and began making its way up his shin.
’What...?’
Lukas felt a thread of fear.
Sothing was on him.
Sothing was walking across his body.
He tried to move, tried to lift his head to see what it was, but his fragile and inexperienced neck could only raise it for a second before it fell back onto the pillow.
The glimpse he got was brief and blurry, only the blue blanket over his chest and nothing more.
The itching sensation continued its journey.
It climbed over his knee, up his thigh, and across his belly.
The creature reached his chest.
It climbed over his chin.
And then, finally, it entered his field of vision.
Six slender legs.
Two twitching antennae.
And two large mandibles.
A segnted body of glossy black, reflecting sunlight like polished glass.
It was an ant.
A relatively ordinary ant.
Small, black, perfectly ordinary.
Lukas blinked.
The ant sohow seed to notice Lukas’s eyes and stopped just above his cheek.
Motionless.
Completely motionless.
As if it were observing Lukas’s eye.
’An... ant?’
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