Part 1

It's been six months since I first came to this world.

The days were boring and stressful.

I didn't know if a normal baby would have already been able to understand at least a little of what my parents were telling me but I couldn't seem to understand a single word except for my name : Raphael.

I was beginning to move a little bit, even though moving is too big of a word, maybe groveling would be better.

This damn little body had no strength at all...well, nothing I could do about it and I wasn't even interested in getting stronger for the time being.

I had a plan.

Since I had a lot of time in my hands I was able to think hard about my situation.

I'll admit it, for a month or so I strayed from my rigorous thinking path and got interested in exploring the place, but it was just a momentary distraction.

I soon came back to reality.

I did not want to live a second life.

How could I?

Withstanding the crushing feeling of loss still residing in me, the boiling rage building up within me whenever I thought about Delrick, the sadness that filled my heart every time the face of the girl I loved and the family that left me popped up in my mind.

I often found myself lost in thoughts like: are they still thinking about me ?

Could they be sad for my death?

Were they present at my funeral?

What if I had done things differently? ...but most importantly

Do they even know of my death or was I just a nameless corpse cremated and buried under a nameless tombstone?

The mere thought of it gave me the chills, I found myself crying not just once.

What was worsening my condition were my supposedly parents.

I was treated with so much love.

Every noise I made, every move, every little shout..every time something happened one of them came running, especially my father.

At first I thought he was the typical absent father judging by his young age and appearances but I soon found myself very wrong.

Even though I couldn't understand a thing of what he was saying, he spent hours and hours every day talking to me.

When he was working on his books and papers he usually made a break every half an hour and turned towards me to cuddle me and speak.

In my past life the idea of having a child never crossed my mind...I couldn't see myself as a father but, is that how a father should act?

If so, damn! Every father has my utmost respect, one’s gotta have a lot of patience to be so concerned with a child.

Mother was no different even though she was way busier than father(I suppose he was the lazy one of the couple).

Every time I made the slightest movement or the slightest sound both of them could be seen jumping out of joy...I was speechless.

How could they treat me with such love when I'm not even their true child?

Why were they reserving me such a blessing when, in the time of need, my real family had forsaken me?

This wasn't right.

It wasn't right for me and it wasn't for those two who were looking after me with so much care.

[This treatment should not be reserved to me but to your real son!]

I used to try to say but of course those words were never delivered.

Out of respect for them and pity for me I came up with a plan.

A ruthless plan.

I needed to die a second time hoping I would not reincarnate again.

How much could I downplay death?

A foolish man whose wish was to die was granted a second shot at life...How ironic!

The plan was to wait until I was fully able to at least crawl around the house, wait for the right moment and end myself.

The details of how I would commit the act were still not clear but I was positive that I would find a way.

Once the plan was established, all that remained was to wait

It felt like eternity.

Part 2

It was now time.

I was eight and a half months old.

I was really precocious for a baby.

In just two months I had learned to crawl well enough to explore the rooms by myself, I could climb on things that were a little lower than me and my strength increased to the point where I was able to push or pull light things.

The first time I crawled father cried and screamed out of joy while mother was more composed and gave me what I thought were praises.

That night father got drunk.

Either way in this world when the child learns to crawl is a big enough event to get black out drunk or father was just being exaggerated.

The latter option seemed the most probable.

The scary thing was that I was happy seeing this scene...proud parents.

Getting disowned by my family must have left a very deep scar because that scene really filled my heart with joy.

It's funny how even such a small event as parents being proud of their child crawling would affect me to the point where I almost thought of quitting the suicidal plan.

I said almost.

Reality pierced my mind soon enough to wake me up from that dream.

The fateful moment came.

I decided that the best moment would be at night when everyone was sleeping.

I woke up.

A dim light filled the room, not bright enough to disturb my sleep but enough to show me the way to the window.

Slowly I climbed out of the wooden cradle trying to make as less noise as possible but as expected some squeaks were made.

As I reached the floor I waited for a couple of minutes just to make sure that I didn't hear footsteps coming to check me out.

[Safe!]

No one was coming.

The mission continued.

I started my crawling march to my scaffold: the window.

Slowly I crawled making sure that both my palms and my knees were lightly leaned on the floor every time I was moving.

It took quite a considerate amount of time in order to reach the base of the window without making a sound.

The plan was going well.

Now this is where my strength was needed.

In order to get to the window I had to surpass two obstacles: the chair and the desk. While balancing my weight I climbed on top of the seat of the chair exploiting the horizontal stakes.

Here I had to take a break, both my body and my mind were getting tired. Maybe it was because the closer I got to the window the closer I was getting to my death but with each passing minute my mind kept feeling fuzzier.

The ascent began again.

As soon as I reached the table I had to avoid father’s papers and quills. It took a lot of time but I managed to make no sound.

I reached my goal.

The window was there, right in front of me.

My heart began to beat at a speed comparable to the moment before a race, but it was not beating with excitement like it did in the past, it beated with restlessness.

I pulled a window sash that I purposely left open in the afternoon(I got lucky my parents didn't notice) and crawled on top of the window.

I was out.

I reached the edge.

There, a two floor fall was waiting for me, there was no way a baby could survive that.

I got nostalgic.

I had already seen this...my last moments in my past life.

Somehow this time was different.

My chest felt heavy and my thoughts were disconnected and blurry.

Was I doing the right thing?

I stopped for a second and looked up.

There, a scenery that even the most accomplished painter could never imprint on paper.

An almost full moon shone upon a rustic medieval city.

Wooden roofs with stone chimneys were parting the heart of the city from the starry night sky. Mountains could be seen far back and closer a set of low hills covered by a light forest of tall trees. To my left a row of hundreds of houses ended with high stone walls that surrounded the entire city. A big road cut through the sea of houses. Only a few drunkards and what looked like prostitutes were walking around at that hour.

To my left the type of building changed.

The houses started to get higher and better looking, if I had to describe them with a word I would say richer. A couple of high towers could be seen in the far distance and close to one of them a building I had never seen in my past life rose from the overhead ground and touched the blue sky.

It was a castle.

Beautiful grey stone covered it’s walls and reddish bricks were used for the roof. It didn't look extremely big in the distance but it was a castle nonetheless.

Lights could be seen in what seemed to be the town square right under the castle but no sound came from it. Maybe I was too far away to hear anything but if lights were on then probably some taverns or bars were still open and the drunkards I had seen before were probably directed towards them.

I stood there for what seemed like hours in awe admiring the beautiful landscape that flowed before my eyes.

Everywhere I turned something was always catching my eyes.

I was astonished…

That is until I looked down.

A little garden surrounded by a stone fence stood under my nose.

Reality struck back at me.

I was not there to enjoy the scenery but to reenact the last moment of my past life.

To be honest I was relieved that the last thing I would see would be such an astonishing view.

I breathed in.

A large amount of cold air filled my lungs.

My mind cleared a bit.

[I would have liked to know your names but thanks anyway father, mother...I really hope this will not hurt you for too long. I wish you a loving son and a cute daughter. Thank you]

I shifted my weight to the front and my body started falling.

I closed my eyes and smiled.

This really seems like a dejavu.

Will this time work?

Will I be finally cleared of my pain?

I fell.

Part 3

Gravity was assisting me by increasing my speed as I was falling.

My head was empty.

I was just enjoying the last moments with cold fresh air caressing my body.

Suddenly I felt unexpected pain in my left ankle and it rapidly spread through my leg until it reached the back of my head.

The sudden stop of the flow of gravity made my blood concentrate to my head giving me a feeling of discomfort.

I opened my eyes and looked up.

An arm was sticking out of the window and a hand was strongly grabbing my leg.

My ears started ringing and heavy breathes gave piercing pain in my lungs.

Another arm stuck out of the window and reached my waist.

I was being pulled back up.

What did go wrong?

I was sure I had made all the preparations and never made a sound, so why?

Once I got pulled back the scene that unfolded in front of my eyes felt unreal.

The two arms that were now around me holding me up were hairy and strong, the arms of someone who used to do heavy jobs.

They were my fathers arms.

He had no shirt on, just like when he sleeps, and my face was close to his chest.

I could feel his chest hairs scratching my cheek.

Looking further up, my eyes were met with a face that I would never forget.

The fear of death was mixed with joy.

His skin color usually vividly dark pink(probably due to his prolonged time out in the garden) was now a deathly white, as if his life essence was drained out of him. Tears were falling from semi closed eyes and his pupils were dilated to the point where the green of the iris was almost impossible to notice. A pathetic cracked smile was trembling and the ceaseless flow of tears was wetting the lips.

His whole body was trembling and soon enough he fell to his knees.

In front of him a woman also on her knees was profusely crying and loudly sobbing while trying to cover her face but failing to do so.

She was my mother.

She was also trembling and looking towards me through the gaps between her fingers. Her bed hair was all over the place falling on her shoulders and face.

She crawled towards me and father.

As soon as she was close enough, her hands flew towards my head.

I was being caressed.

A gentle but shaky hand was caressing the top of my head while tears were falling from both sides dropping on my head and my torso. The man tried to open his mouth to speak but no words came out. The woman looked at the man for a second and then hugged both me and the man simultaneously while keeping caressing my head with her hand.

No words were needed.

I understood perfectly.

How could I be so naive?

Hoping they would not suffer for long ?

What kind of fool am I?

They consider me their son of course they would suffer!

What kind of parent wouldn't suffer while buring their own child?

I understood.

I was their son.

Their only child.

They spent eight and a half months looking out for me and in the moment of need they were there.

I didn't know how they were there.

Did they hear something?

Perhaps a feeling?

Or just a casualty?

Honestly I did not care.

They were there and that is more than enough.

In the moment of need they were there.

I didn't need words.

I extended my small arms and grabbed the closest piece of skin of both my mother and father.

Their eyes turned towards me.

The child that for eight months never spilled a single tear in front of them was now crying.

A cry without sound nor sobbing.

Just tears falling down from each cheek.

The hug tightened.

Only one thought struck my mind at that exact moment.

[Could I perhaps give myself and this world a chance?]

I didn't answer.

There was no need for an answer.

I had already decided.

Part 4

The next few days felt strangely weird.

I had been in this world for more than eight months living with my mother and father.

Yet I didn't know anything about them.

So with my decision to give this second life a chance, my extreme curiosity for a medieval world, the interest rising within me directed to my parents and my newly ability to crawl I started my exploration journey around the house.

The first thing I found out was that the house was bigger than I thought.

First of all it had three floors, two above the ground and one under: the basement.

I had a look at it with father.

To my surprise the basement was huge.

To go to the basement you had to use the stairs in the room next to the living room, some kind of storage room full of dried meat and spices.

The basement itself was pretty dark except for the same type of lamps used in the whole house.In the furthest corner from the stairs food was stored in boxes, barrels and shelves.

Wine storage occupied the majority of the room while the section closest to the stairs hosted some strange and colorful rugs and hides other than some strange wooden machines that I had never seen before.

So the basement is pretty much just used for storage, and my father’s wine selection.

On the first floor I noticed a room that I had not seen the previous times that I was in the living room.

Next to the stairs there was a double door.

Actually a very big double door,how could I not notice?

Anyways, I decided to explore it by myself.

I said by myself but in reality since that night I was always followed by one of my parents,I think it was to make sure that nothing like that happens again.

[Rest assured father,mother I will not try anything like that again!]

Behind those doors laid the room that was bound to become my favourite room in the future: a giant library.

A soft crimson carpet covered the floor and three rows of five shelves each were spaced apart by a meter or so.

In the corners of the room armchairs, little couches and little tables were placed.

They were covered in the same kind of fur that was in the basement.

Were they seriously homemade?

They were unexpectedly soft, comfy and warm.

[Yes, as soon as I learn to read this place will be my second bedroom.

Since I decided to live in this world I got to learn as much as I can so books should be a good enough start!]

Upstairs I came across some rooms whose existence were unknown to me.

First of all my small bedroom right in front of the stairs.

Next to it my parents' big room with their pointlessly huge bed.

I envied it.

Next to my parent’s bedroom I discovered some kind of dressing room.

The walls were covered in wardrobes and a set of three mirrors were placed in the center of the room.

This explains why their bedroom only had some bedside tables.

Thanks to the mirrors I was finally able to see myself for the first time.

Not to brag or anything but I was such a cute baby!

Shiny short black hair and crystal light blue eyes that looked like ice, a small nose and some puffy red cheeks. My body was that of a baby but I could tell that in my previous world a baby like that would have been the talk of the housewives ot the neighborhood.

In my exploring journey I found two other bedrooms poorly decorated.

Either way my parents were looking forward to having more babies or those were guest rooms.

They did not pique my interest.

The last room was kind of difficult to understand.

It was a small room with a wide window in front of the door.

On both sides what looked like iron tubes were hanging from the ceiling.

Square wooden containers were placed right below those tubes.

Those containers came in a lot of different sizes and heights.

Only when mother turned on a switch close to one of those tubes and water started flowing into the container I understood, that was a bathroom.

Until now I used to bathe with mother or father in my room.

They used to bring one of those containers filled with water and bathe with me but I never thought that we would have a complete bath.

[I'm starting to really like this house!]

Outside a small garden with a couple of fruit trees in a corner and a small vegetable garden close to it surround the house.

Once I was done exploring the house I shifted my interest towards the inhabitants of the house.

The first one was father.

Father is a tall man, maybe his height is around a hundred seventy or something, well at least tall for a crawling baby!

The first thing I noticed is that he is a well trained man.

His biceps, shoulders,forearms, thighs, calves and back seemed all very athlete-like.

His hands were full of callus so he must be doing some very heavy jobs, I thought before seeing him training everyday with the sword.

He spent at least three hours a day training with the sword and an hour training his body.

I started to keep him company in the garden while he trained or looked at him through the window in the living room.

His movements were soft yet full of strength.

I could clearly see the years of training that were needed to attain that amazing form.

He had a lot of muscles but he wasn't buffed like a bodybuilder, he was very defined.

He really is a good looking man.

Short black hair and a light beard, small light green eyes, a sharp jaw, a small nose that was clearly broken at least once and big red lips.

He had no scars in the face or his back but he had a lot of them in his front torso and arms.

He had a silver-like metal earring in his left lobe and a golden necklace.

In both his wrists a set of black leather and metal bracelets went from the attachment of the hand to the wrist to half of his forearm.

When I woke up in the morning he was never there but always returned a couple of hours after lunch.

He then spent some time with me in my room and then went to the library.

As soon as the sun starts to set and the air outside gets fresher he goes in the garden and trains till it's dinner time.

After dinner he sometimes bathes with me and then reads a book or does something with mother.

Before going to bed he comes to my room to read a bedtime story which I obviously don't understand.

If father could be described as strong and dependable, mother would be described as a smiling guardian angel.

She is a little smaller than father and her physique looked frail, but only looked like it, in reality she was actually really strong.

A faint six pack could be seen whenever we bathed together.

She has long light brown hair that she wears in a high ponytail, big blue eyes, a soft and small nose, a very light pink skin, a mole on her right cheek and soft pink lips.

The one thing that I had always noticed was her huge chest.

It was at least F-cup, truly beautiful.

Sometimes I could see father looking at me with a slight envious glare while being breastfed.

She didnt work or maybe she took a maternity break for me, I don't know.

If I didn't wake up early in the morning she would come to my room and gently wake me up by kissing my forehead.

She would then feed me and start preparing for lunch while I sat on the table looking at her skilfully cutty through animal bones and flesh or chopping vegetables that I had never seen in my entire life.

After that she would go in the garden to tend to her plants.

The lazy me would still be inside the house looking at her.

Whenever I started exploring she would be following me at a certain distance.

Was it to let me maintain a feeling of freedom?

Anyway it helped me improve both my crawling skills and my overall strength.

At lunchtime another woman came, probably a friend or a neighbor and they would chat for an hour or so.

Sometimes this woman would bring what I understood was her daughter.

I think she was something like eight years old or so.

She is a sweet girl, cute too.

[I bet she will become a real beauty once she's grown up]

While the women were chatting she would bring me in the garden and play with flowers or just lay down in the freshly cutted grass or sometimes she would point to the people walking outside the gates of the house while chatting.

I didn't know if it should have been funny and since I didn't know how a baby acts I would just improvise and fake laugh. She seemed to enjoy it so I kept the act.

After lunch it was time for my siesta, not that I had been working hard tho but the warm sunny rays were too tempting and I took up the habit of dozing off on the wooden bench under the window.

Mother would always come sit next to me and gently caress my head or grab my tiny hand.

After my nap it was time for father to come home.

They would then change the roles.

Father would spend some time with me while mother would keep herself busy in the kitchen, disappear in their bedroom or a couple times a week go outside the house.

Whenever she went outside she would come home with bags full of groceries and some strange stones and silks.

As soon as the sun sets down she would then prepare dinner, feed me and keep me company for the evening.

Whenever father was late with his training or had something else to do she would bathe with me and read me the bedtime story, kiss me on the forehead and leave the room.

I suppose I was lucky to be born with such great and loving parents.

But I was still curious about them.

I wanted to know more of them and more of this whole new world.

A chance to start again with my 28 years of knowledge from my previous life.

This time I wasn't gonna be fooled by some asshole.

This time I was gonna make things right.

[Since I’ve made up my mind to live in this world I need to live it to the fullest!

I swear this time I'm gonna win!]

And with that my second life really began.