2 Birth (2/2)

I tried to lift my head to see what it was, but I just lolled around. From the bottom of my field of view I could see what looked like a soft golden glow, rippling across gloved hands.

After a short silence, there was a murmur, followed by a great rumbling laugh, presumably my father's. There was some clapping and excited chattering, which was eventually silenced by a very weak but familiar voice.

I was brought over once more to my mother and somehow, I knew the voice had come from her. It was just so familiar. The atmosphere seemed vibrant, with a happy thrum of voices, but exhaustion took over me and I fell asleep.

My second awakening was much gentler. I was nestled comfortably, and the light was dim. I could see my pudgy hand, and the familiar rise and fall of my body let me know I was in my mother's arms.

My thoughts went to cultivation. I wanted to see if it was real, but how could I tell? I remembered the book that Sirius had sent flashing into my mind. Sure enough, it came back to me.

It was somewhat different to a memory. It was more vivid than that; not so obscured that I could only remember the feelings and vague ideas of an event. More like a crystal-clear vision.

The book was made of smooth brown leather, with long stitches of golden thread binding one side. The title read ”Soul Becoming World Technique,” in slightly flaking, burnished gold leaf.

In this vision, the book opened by itself to the first page. The ink brushed words on off-white paper read:

”Soul Birth, Low Tier Commoner Grade requirement. To begin to form the soul, one must find the soul seed in the…” The book slammed shut as I read it, and I was ripped out of the vision.

Panicking that I had missed the chance to learn, I tried to revisit the vision, but I was met strangely by words. These words were imprinted in my mind. They detailed a process of meditation to find the seed, and how to use it.

I knew that I had already seen this seed before when Sirius had guided me through the Mind Integration Technique. But he had induced me into the deepest lull of meditation I had ever experienced, could I do it on my own?

There was nothing to do but try. I closed my eyes and began to observe what my body was feeling. But I was met by obstacles. My body was so new to me. It felt alien and uncomfortable.

My excitement to start cultivating had also made me fidgety; I couldn't sit still, and my heart was racing. My fidgeting had woken up mother. She sat up and took me in her arms, cradling my head.

She began to smile and speak to me. Her soft voice had a soothing strength behind it that wasn't there when I first heard her. When I tried to listen to what she was saying, I realised there was a problem.

My inability to understand speech was not because of confusion or a lack of hearing. I simply could not understand the language that was being spoken to me.

Within the confusing strings of familiar syllables in unfamiliar combinations, I could make out the occasional ”Oscar” mixed in, but nothing else.

This was a real problem. I had always been terrible at learning languages back in my world. How would I learn a new one here? I couldn't seem to meditate yet, and I couldn't even understand what my mother was saying. Where could I go from here?