Agnostic Dreamer

Chapter 3 (Reworked)

Drifting. The state of flowing to the currents of a stronger force. The best course of survival while unable to make it to shore is to float. Hoping the tides you ride will pull you close enough to solid footing that you'll make it out of this, and treat it as nothing more than a bad experience. A lingering desire to be able to laugh at the absurdity, and a baldfaced lie to yourself as the land you left grows distant.

The Doc's examination led the couple to new heights, followed by new lows. As he told them of my health, sighs filled the room causing their forms to slump. And yet, as he told them of my inaction towards questions and other stimuli they once more shot up. It'd be funny, and possibly soap opera worthy, but only if I wasn't the subject matter. They're fervent questions and attitude did cause the Doctor to usher them out of the room though, which was nice.

Muffled voices, followed by cries echoed beyond the doorway. All of which made it harder to get some rest. Harder, but not impossible. By the time I woke up, the red haired woman had sat down beside my bed. The look I gave her caused a chain-reaction of silent tears and forced back sobs. As annoying as someone forcing such things your way is, I choked back any discontent until she had finished her 'moment.'

Once her semblance of self control returned, she began a verbal bombardment with me as the unlucky target, "Don't worry Sweetie, everything will get better, don't worry your little head! Doctor Moreau even said your health is improving, so everything is going to be fine!"

After taking a moment to breathe and grasp my hand, she started up once more, "And don't worry if you're having difficulty with anything just ask me, your father, or your nanny! We'll help you take care of anything and everything, so don't feel like you can't speak up!"

Another pause to breathe, "Everything will-"

Rolling my eyes I cut her off, "Waht's my naym?"

Any words or actions she intended to make froze at my question, before thawing into a puddle of sobs. As devastated as she acted over my complete ignorance over anything and everything around me, that didn't stop her from holding true to her claims. My first few questions would cause any strong act she put on to shatter and melt. But that's on her, I needed answers more than I needed to empathize with this woman.

Through her tears I learned my name was Anastasia Mosswood, and she, Hanna Mosswood, was my mother. Or well the Mother of the original host of this body. That's an obscenely pungent can of worms that I'll get back too when I have the freedom to. The other red haired individual was apparently my father, Xander, and the maid who'd been helping care for me periodically through Hannah's breakdowns while telling me this, was my nanny Scilla. The finer details beyond such things were slowly brought up, and digested over the following days like the medicine the Doctor had prescribed me.

As I worked on relearning how to walk, and properly talk, the truth of my situation had begun to settle. Not only had I transmigrated into the body of a young girl, it was a young girl in a country and world completely alien to my understanding. Yeah, last time I checked, there wasn't a country called Aurora, much less a world called Solstice. But the dual stars overhead set such impossibilities in stone. Such realizations made me grimace, but I swallowed my cries of foul play until I could fully test the waters.

Once the days started turning to weeks though, various issues started to arise. A majority of which were due to my discontent of being forced into the body of a kid around 1/5th my actual age. At least I quickly found out english doesn't translate almost whatsoever into the Auroran language, so my cussing only elicited a few odd looks. There are other issues, like difficulty adapting to the change in calendar that'll be rectified with time. But the major issue is something that's been cropping up off and on this entire time, and it's driving me nuts.

With a deep breath, I forced myself to process the 'lesson' my mother was giving me over various noble houses in the country, when it rang out.

Patting one of her arms which encircled me on her lap, I called out, "Mawm."

"Yes Sweetie?" she replied while lowering the book in front of us and stopping her rocking in the chair we sat.

Shifting a bit to better look at the woman's face I continued, "Sumtaims I hear ah... odh sownd. Waht es that?"

She's gotten more used to my odd questions as the days went by, or as she taught me, the 'cycles passed.' But even with her building up a defense, she still would react when I asked something best left unsaid.

"What kind of sound Sweetie?" pure curiosity to what I meant, and since she's still unaware I probe her reactions like I do, she's being genuine.

"Likh...ay," I took a moment to try and think of the best way to describe it with my rebellious tongue, "Likh ay metil reenging."

Hannah's eyes widened while her hands began to quiver around the book, "C-can you be a bit more descriptive Sweetie? When and where is it happening?"

Her shaky voice set off alarm bells in my head, but I trudged on, "Uuhm, eet happins randumlee, but eets binh happineng moor offtin laytlee."

"And it's a bell chime ringing out?!"

She started getting frantic, but I'm the one who released the beast, so I'll just suffer through it like always. But is it bad? Maybe a side effect of the medicine?

"Yes?" I'm not certain it's technically a bell chime, but it's as good a descriptor as any.

The book of noble families that held ties to our own fell to the floor as Hannah grabbed me, and quickly buried my face in her chest. I had long since stopped struggling during these moments in a bid to conserve what little energy I had regained over the past few days, but my mother's current bout was worse than usual. My struggles to get a bit of air went unnoticed as she began petting me while jolting up to twirl on her heels. With my slaps against her arms going unheard, I resorted to pinching, any flesh I could grasp.

The sharp pain knocked her out of her episode, and she sat back down with me on her lap as if the entire thing had never occurred, "That's wonderful Sweetie! Most people don't start hearing their bestowals until after they've had their Rite-Of-Passage!"

Maybe it was the lack of air from earlier, or maybe it was my inability to process what she'd just said, but her constant reiterations of joy over my 'growth' fell on deaf ears while I gave her the look her odds actions deserved.

My pinch to her thigh stopped her fourth restatement in its tracks, "Waht's ay bist-owill?"

Her look of confusion at my question elicited my displeased one,"A-ah, a bestowal is when the God's reward you for all your hard work Ana. Didn't you notice it happening in all those stories we read for you?"

Wait so all those stupid nursery knocks you've been shoving down my throat were based on that...? I thought the people of this culture just had questionable tastes.

My silent contemplations urged Hannah onward with worry starting to leak through, "Just the end of cycle prior, I read the story about the knight who slew the Ogres. He-"

"I ri-membirr."

A story involving a nameless knight gaining the ability to slice an ogre in twain which he used to rid the area of the man-eaters. Not exactly bedtime story material in my mind, I was more a fan of 'Give A Rat A Snack' when I was younger. I just thought the whole 'bestowing' of his lil Swordwave thing that the God's did to reward his effort was like the whole Dame in a pond thing. A dumb literary device to say the world was on the side of those that won.

"Once you have your Rite-Of-Passage you'll be able to see all the skills the God's have bestowed on you to reward your growth Sweetie!" she said this while rubbing my back.

I tugged a bit on her sleeve to get her to stop, "Skillz?"

"Yes, like swordsmanship, or singing and dancing! You'll see everything you've been bestowed once you're old enough Sweetie," without looking up from my quickly lowering mood, I could tell how worried her face must look over how I still hadn't grasped this.

Is this common sense here?!

To the tone of another chime, a whispered "Goht eet," left my lips as I put such things off for now.

Hannah rubbed my back again, but I didn't have the energy to stop it this time. What a pack of crap.