Tales of Esconia

Such a strange sensation, being pulled out of complete darkness. The first thing I felt was my lungs filling with air. Then, my eyes were hit by a bright light. I would later realize that the light wasn’t especially bright. My eyes were just struggling to adjust to the change from seeing nothing to seeing something. After that, my ears were hit with all the surrounding sounds. A group of people was in the room. There were hushed, excited voices all around. The room smelled sweet from the incense burning.

“You have two healthy baby boys, my lady.” I hear a woman say.

“Congratulations, my lady.” says another.

By the time I got my bearings, I noticed I were in a large bed in the arms of a beautiful woman holding me close to her and looking down at me with a bright, yet tired, smile. Her face had beads of sweat on it, however, the most striking feature was her deep blue eyes full of warmth and care directed towards me. Well, not entirely towards me. Beside me in her arms was another bundle of cloth, currently crying loudly. My brother, I suppose. Though, it is hard to see his face with all the cloth obstructing my view.

“What shall the names of the princes be, my lady?” asks a woman dressed in a white gown her hands and clothes had blood on them. I would later realize that she was the one helping deliver me into this world.

“Artias,” she says smiling at my brother. “And Zenovia.” She smiles just as brightly at me.

“I will go inform the king,” one of the servants says bowing.

“Yes, please do.,” says my mother, though I can’t help but notice her smile becoming slightly less bright at the mention of the king.

The servant bows again and leaves to inform the king. Other servants start bustling around cleaning the aftermath of the childbirth while my mother keeps holding me and my brother to her chest and humming a pleasant melody. The humming was so pleasant that I found myself drifting to sleep. The last thing I remember was her gentle smile and warm eyes.

I woke up sometime later. Hard to say how much time has passed. Nobody is concerned about telling infants what time it is, after all.

“Are the children healthy?” I hear someone ask in a gruff voice.

“They are, my king,” I hear my mother reply.

I open my eyes. I am lying in a soft cradle. When my gaze goes up, I see a man standing above and looking slightly to the side. He has steel grey eyes, a head full of brown hair with clear signs of grey hair mixed in, and a styled short beard with a similar mix of brown and grey hair. Also, I notice his nose is crooked which doesn’t diminish the fact that the man is handsome and looking regal in his posh attire of black velvet. I see my mother standing beside her. Now I can see her clearly. She is a woman shorter than a man by quite a bit. Although the man looks tall, that doesn’t mean Mother is too short herself. Still, she is on the shorter side. I would later find out that she is around 1.64 meters compared to the man who is 1.85 meters. I focus on her appearance more closely. She has long straight dark blueish hair that goes down to her lower back. Like I noticed before, she has deep blue eyes that exude warmth. Her face is very beautiful. She looks young. Younger than the man standing beside her. She was curvy, though only in the right places. How do I know she is curvy in all the right places? Strange. Her hips are wide, her waist narrow and her breasts are big and full. A gorgeous woman overall. And my mother.

I follow the man’s gaze and see a similar cradle standing right beside mine and my brother sleeping in it peacefully.

“This one was the first then?” the man asks looking at my brother.

“Yes, Artias is older by ten minutes,” my mother replies. The man grunts in response.

I look at my mother while she is gently stroking my brother’s head. The man hadn’t looked at me even once since I had woken up.

“You did admirably. As a queen is supposed to.” With that, the man turns around and leaves the room. I look at my mother and see her purse her lips looking at the door where the man just left. Oh, I guess that man is my father. And he is a king. And my mother is a queen. Which makes my brother and I princes… But how do I know this? Are babies even supposed to be conscious like that right after their birth? I try hard to think about what I was doing before my mother gave birth to me but all I remember was complete darkness. That’s that, I guess.

I try to move my arm and look at my hands. These are normal hands. At least they feel normal. I squeeze my hand making a very adorable tiny fist. It looked so funny that I made a chuckle which produced a sound, my first sound. My mother instantly walked up to my cradle and bowed down.

“Hello there, little Zenovia,” a smile returns to my mother’s face. She reaches down and holds my tiny fist in her hand and chuckles. “Did I hear you laugh just now? Couldn’t be. Babies shouldn’t be able to. Not so soon.” She reaches with her other hand and strokes my head.

Why can I understand her so easily? Should I even be able to? This is so confusing. Deep in thought, I make another sound. The gurgling sound this time.

My mother chuckles. “You are so adorable. The most adorable baby I have ever seen. Along with your brother,” she touches my nose with the tip of her finger. I huff at the ticklish sensation.

“Did that tickle you? My sweet little baby.” she smiles widely.

Just then someone entered the room. I couldn’t see who it was from my cradle. My mother doesn’t even look at the person.

“My lady, you should rest. You haven’t slept since giving birth earlier,” a woman says. A servant, I presume.

“Yes, I suppose I must. But it is so hard to walk away from my adorable boys.” The queen replies while still playing with me. She strokes my head one last time before pulling away. “Alright, I do feel very tired.”

With that, she steps away from the cradles and goes towards the bed. “Make sure to take an eye on them, Sabrina.” Mother says.

“I will, my lady. Rest well,” says Sabrina, who is my mother’s personal servant, I deduced from how easily my mother left me under Sabrina’s watchful eyes.

My mother gets into bed, and I can hear her steady breathing soon after. She had fallen asleep. Sabrina walks up to the cribs and checks on my brother first. He is still sleeping deeply. Then, she walks up to my cradle and checks on me, and I can finally see her face. Sabrina is a young woman with curly brown hair going down to her shoulders. She has brown eyes and rosy cheeks. Though not as beautiful as my mother, she is still a beauty.

She notices me looking at her and smiles down at me. She makes sure that I am settled well in my cradle and walks away to sit on the chair by the fireplace. She reaches to the basket of firewood and adds another log to the fireplace, making embers go flying out and logs cheerfully clicking and popping.

Seeing such a peaceful sight and lying in a comfortable soft cradle makes me sleepy again. Before I know it, my eyes start closing and I drift asleep yet again.

Several months go by. At least it feels like it. Babies are still not being told what time it is. Outrageous, I know. I go through a similar routine every day. I wake up, get cleaned up, breastfed by either my mother or one of the wet nurses working as servants. I then fall quickly asleep again. Infant bodies aren’t meant to stay awake too long. My mother or nurses check on me when I wake up, speak to me and play with me afterwards. Whenever I feel hungry again, I start making sounds. I still refuse to cry, which my brother seems to be doing all the time. If anything, at least I don’t need as much attention as my brother does. What a little crybaby. Literally. After I am fed and cleaned again, I go to sleep and repeat it all the next day. The life of an infant sounds exciting, doesn’t it?

In all this time, I haven’t seen my father even once. His loss since he doesn’t get to see how adorable my brother and I can be. Our mother is almost always by our side though, which is nice. I don’t get tired from seeing her bright smile and warm eyes. About six months after my birth, I finally managed to say my first word. I have been trying really hard to do that, but my baby mouth refused to cooperate with me. I finally managed to do that when my mother was rocking me in her hands and humming.

I was also very original with what I chose to say. “Mama.”

Perhaps not.

My ‘Mama’ stopped rocking me and humming. Her eyes opened wide in shock at what she just heard. When she finally understood what had just happened, her smile grew wider than I had ever seen.

“Did you just say ‘mama’, my baby?” she excitedly said.

“Mama,” I repeat.

Mother started jumping slightly with joy and dancing, holding me close to her. Very cute.

“I’m your Mama,” she laughs cheerily still dancing. “Say that again. Say Mama”.

“Mama,” I say again for her amusement.

She continues twirling around and asking me to repeat the word. I do it happily.