Lilia's being was jerked suddenly into a world of light. It so contrasted with the darkness of the last year that she thought it was a dream. She reached out for one of the lights around her. Some part of her hoped she could hold it close. That's about the moment she realized the hand reaching out didn't belong to her. It was plump and red, and it was a baby's arm.

She waved her hand at it. It waved at her. What the... She started screaming. What did they do to me?!

She couldn't hear it, but her screams were the wails of a baby. A pit in her stomach formed and fear-fueled her cries. They kept ramping up until the sound of a door opening distracted her. Lilia froze, trying to see what was going on. Where am I?

For the first time, she realized she could roll her head to the side. Candles surrounded her, and she seemed to be in a room with wooden walls and a tall ceiling. The flood of women covered the circle of candles, and one of them chanted something in another language. Lilia thought she could make out tears on her face despite the weird fisheye she seemed to be looking through.

As soon as the woman finished in her choked-out language, one of the women stepped forward and picked up Lilia. She felt so small in the woman's arms. And every sensation of touch and sound seemed so big to her. This new body is still trying to process everything at once. For some reason, she started crying, and again, she couldn't stop herself. I really need one of those tranquilizers right now, she thought to herself jokingly. She felt as if this dream was one of those where she'd just sit back and watch it all happen. Lilia was curious but scared more than anything.

A woman's voice shrilly cried from beyond the door. After Lilia was swaddled in a blanket, she was brought to the next room. A larger room that strongly smelled earthly. Lilia didn't have much time to take in the new surroundings before being passed off to a crying woman's careful embrace. A gaunt face with great amber eyes was framed with black hair. Sweat streaked it to her face, but Lilia knew this woman was naturally beautiful.

Words were spoken over her in soothing tones. She wanted to stop crying but a warmth spread through Lilia alongside a thousand light kisses. A huge smile filled her vision, and Lilia couldn't take her eyes off of her mother's. What else could this feeling be but the love of a mother?

Her own mother died during complications of her childbirth. Lilia grew up jealous of her friends and treasured their mothers. But this feeling in her heart couldn't be mistaken. Was she being given a second chance?

What was it the doctor had said? A new chance to live? As her thoughts ran in circles and her confusion was replaced with happiness at the idea she could finally have the mother she dreamed of, she smiled and laughed.

* * * * *

Serabelle's heart skipped a beat at her daughter's wide smile. Her giggle sounded like wind chimes, and her heart ached. Her daughter was safe. Neither of her sons had been as much trouble as her daughter. A daughter! Praise the Goddess!

Even though she knew her daughter was safe, the knowledge didn't remove the worry in her. When the babe finally entered this world after a long night of labor, she was silent and barely breathing. Midwife Joann immediately washed her and set her in the ritual of birth room. Serabelle had strained to hear the words spoken over her little baby but couldn't muster the strength to even lift herself from the bed.

Only her little girl's cry gave her the energy to lift her hands to take her from Joann's arms when she returned. Any fears of changelings switching her daughter were squashed when she saw her husband's eyes looking back at her.

Joann said something, but she missed it, staring into her daughter's eyes. A few moments later and the door burst open, her husband standing in the doorway—worry and happiness plain on his face.

"Antel, come meet your daughter," she said hoarsely. Gingerly he sat next to her on the bed and reached out his hands. Serabelle smiled at seeing her steadfast husband's hands shake as he took their daughter into his arms. The midwife stepped over and corrected his hands, so he supported the babe's neck with a sniff.

Serabelle watched her husband's goofy smile as the hunk was so carefully looking over their baby. He said, "She has your nose, Sera."

"And your eyes," Serabelle said.

Joann spoke up after a minute, "Sera, Antel, there is something you need to know. Your daughter was born with a weak lifespark. It may be that she grows up fine, but the Ritual of Birth rarely works as well as the stories say. I need to tell you that she may struggle with the most basic tasks throughout her whole life. Or, if the Goddess has blessed her, she may be extraordinary. Time will tell.

I have looked over her. Aside from a birthmark on her hip, nothing seems to be physically wrong with her."

Antel didn't glance up at the words, "She will be fine. She's a Sanmey. We're a hardy bunch."

Joann pursed her lips, "Antel, it may be hard to hear, but your daughter may not grow up. I have only performed this ritual a handful of times-even the old midwife here has seen it work one other time. That young man passed away before his ninth spring."

"Joann," Serabelle spoke up before her husband could, "thank you. I would not have any hope for my little one without you. We will take care of her no matter what happens."

Joann looked as if she wanted to say more but reconsidered, "Very well. I will trouble you to check in on her alongside the priestess later this year. Have you decided on a name?"

Antel looked at his wife, but she merely smiled and rested a hand on her husband's arm, "Syndra."

Antel smiled at her, "Syndra Sanmey. A strong name. And she seems to like it."

Joann made a mark on the papers in her hand with a stick of charcoal, "I will send your sons in next, but then we must allow Serabelle the chance to rest. Little Syndra needs her sleep too."

* * * * *

Lilia wanted to know what they were all talking about, but she figured the huge man was her father. His green eyes were crinkled and severe, but a smile as large as he was filled his face as he studied her.

That would take getting used to-she was close to her father before he passed away a few years ago. Lilia wasn't set on the idea of rebirth, but she figured this was a test. Hooked into a simulation where they were rebuilding her mental profile to fit something. Yet a part of her hoped she would stay here.

She decided that she would go with it but vowed not to forget her father. She came back to herself as everyone stared at her. "Syndra," her mother said.

Her father repeated the word while looking at her and poked her chest. Is that my new name? Lilia wondered.

She had many questions but could feel her body shutting down again. Weakly she held onto her "father's" finger as she fell asleep. While she may not know what was going on, this was one dream she wouldn't mind having.

* * * * *

Lilia quickly grew to appreciate her new family and world. Her first few weeks went by in a blur. Her little body could not spend much energy outside of its growth, so the days blended together between naps. Pooping herself was one moment of her childhood she did not like to remember. Of course, she had no control over most of her body, so she just accepted it. Lilia did wake up screaming from nightmares of the darkness coming back to take her, but aside from that, she thought she was a good baby.

Her mother was back on her feet quickly, and soon the neighbors came through to congratulate the Sanmeys on their newest addition. Their faces came and went as fast as the language seemed to be running past her ears. She confirmed that her new name was Syndra here but knowing that was strange to contemplate. Would she still be Lilia, or was she Syndra with Lilia's memories?

The language was starting to stick, though. And Lilia was training her tongue to manage it. Gaga-ing back to her mother made both of them crack up, and Syndra enjoyed the experience. She didn't want to cheat her mother out of that. Besides, how many people grow up knowing the weird baby sounds their mother makes to them when nobody's around? And how lucky am I to finally have a mother?

That thought she squished early on. Afraid that if she thought about the whole world would make it vanish.

And it was a different world. Or a Comicon. Where else do you have people walking around with swords on their hips and guards carrying oversized weapons? The sight was strange the first time she visited the market street. Swaddled up and strapped to her mother's back, the family (without the father) left to buy groceries every week. The only reason she could tear her eyes away from them was to watch the magics people used.

Everyone seemed to have some magic. Her family's house was full of floating, glowing orbs used to illuminate the rooms. Somehow they attached to sconces in the ceiling, bobbing gently up and down. She had a red bird toy that flew over her crib and softly chirped to her when she was awake. It was a revelation to realize it was a baby monitor connected to her mother's red-bird necklace she always wore. Serabelle charged it with a shard of dimly glowing glass she always carried in a pocket when it froze up.

But the market was packed full of magic trinkets. Music was played through instruments that sat by themselves. Lilia swore she could feel the wind dancing through them. A couple of vendors seemed to compete over a crowd of potential buyers showing off their wares. One held a wand and gestured at a pot by his stand, and water fell into it from nowhere. It was hot by the steam coming from it.

Her mother babbled something about it to Lilia, but only a couple words, including "pot" and "waste," made sense. Lilia nodded and burbled back as if she understood. Being a baby was excellent.

The other vendor had a couple of volunteers rub dirt into white sheets. Instead of a wand, she held up a ring and put it on with a flourish. She tapped the sheets with the ring finger, and the dirt just fell away. This caused quite a few murmurs—Lilia's mother one of them.

Lilia smiled to herself when her mother went home with the cleaning ring alongside the groceries her brothers carried.

Her brothers! The eldest was Jackson. He was as tall as their father and had long brown hair he tied back in the guards' fashion she'd noticed around. If she had to guess, he was training to be a swordsman. He was always too scared to pick her up and generally kept his distance. Even in worlds of magic, men are afraid of tiny humans, Lilia mused to herself.

Daryl was the younger, and he often spent his days around the house when his father was out. He liked carrying around "Little Sin" on his shoulders. If Lilia was being honest with herself, it was a lot of fun riding around. At least it was acceptable for her as a baby. She thought Daryl was going to be taking over the smithy for Father. Daryl did spend a lot of time working there. Lilia's mother never brought Lilia into the smithy, but she'd seen them working through the windows.

Lilia knew she wouldn't be able to continue acting like a child forever. It might have worked for someone else in her position, but she was a terrible actor. Her saving grace was that babies are weird. If she did something off, it was chalked up to her being a baby.

* * * * *

Learning to walk again was nothing like she thought. Knowing how to walk and actually having the strength to support her own weight are two different things. Her mother cried, and Lilia felt dirty. Did Lilia rob a memorable moment from her parents? She shook the thought away when everyone's smile filled her heart again. It was nice to be loved wholeheartedly. She might have cried as well.

The language was coming easier. In secret, Lilia practiced speaking. In her old life, Lilia was not the best speaker. Learning the language was easier the longer she spent awake each day. Lilia decided that in this life, she would treasure the time spent with her new family. She was set on not adopting Antel as her new father, but something clicked in her when he rushed to pick her up after she slipped on the carpet.

For such a big man, Antel really was a softie. His hand was twice the size of her head, and rough calluses covered his palms, but he never once held her with anything but the gentlest care. Not long after that, Lilia noticed she was referring to him as Father in her personal thoughts. It's hard not to love someone who loves you with their whole heart.

She could definitely see why Mom fell for him.

It certainly helped that Antel was some sort of big shot smith. She'd seen nobles' carriages parked outside from time to time and caught a few snippets of conversations about their orders. Learning to walk was her main objective at this point. There was a new world to see, and it was beginning to sink in.

Unfortunately, she wasted her first word in the new world. After weeks, Lilia thought she got a hold of walking again. She forgot one crucial enemy. The enemy pervades every world. It hides just out of sight and always when you least expect it.

Jackson and Mother were setting dinner out when Father walked in the front door. Lilia tottered down the hall and attacked his trunk of a leg. "Hello, little one! Up we go!" he said with a great laugh. He rubbed his grimy, stubbly face against hers to her squeals.

"Dinner's just about to set. Wash up before you bring your sweaty butt in here!" Mom called.

"Fine," Father grumbled, setting her down. Lilia frowned but decided she'd get more hugs later. Inwardly she knew it was childish but baby her and attached hormones needed the love!

She made her way back to the table room. Proudly she stood in the doorway, an accomplished walker. Then the unexpected happened. As she took her first steps around the table to her chair with pillows on it, a chair's leg stuck out too far.

With eyes on the table above her, she didn't notice the chair as her pinkie toe smashed into it. Thus, her first word.

"Poop!"

And maybe she cried. Maybe.