I woke up.

  Somehow, I was still alive. I must've been in bad shape, though, because I couldn't say anything, the only noise coming from my mouth being some kind of gurgling and high pitched moaning. I also felt wet all over, and looking down, my vision blurry and muddled, I could only see a mess of what must've been blood and mucus all over the place.

  It made sense. If, somehow, I'd survived that fall, my body was likely a mess. Still, even if I felt weaker and pained in some places, I didn't feel that bad. Perhaps I'd been loaded up with morphine or something. Or my body was simply in shock.

  I heard a voice. It sounded strange, and I tried to look up and see who was speaking to me. Surprisingly, this hospital wasn't very well lit. Admittedly, though, I'd always thought hospital lights were too bright. I mean, it made sense for things like surgery, but did patients need that cold light blaring down on them? This light was warmer and softer. It was probably better for me in this state, although it did mean I couldn't see much.

  Then, I suddenly felt as if I was lifted up into the air. No, I was lifted into the air. I mean, I wasn't a huge guy, but carrying a teenage boy was no easy feat. Was it some kind of machine? No, I was sure I could see hands around me.

  I could still hear voices. They weren't very clear, but something about them still seemed strange to me. Almost like they were speaking another language. Well, I suppose that wasn't impossible. Plenty of hospital staff were immigrants. Maybe it was just easier for some of them to say something quickly in their native language. Or perhaps I was overhearing another patient's family.

  Whoever or whatever had picked me up set me down somewhere. It felt like I was perched on a towel. I tried to say something again, but once more, I couldn't get any words out. Just gurgling and moaning.

  "Glrrrg gah. Waaahhh!" It almost sounded like a baby wailing. How embarrassing.

  Anyway, that didn't seem to bother whoever had hold of me. They said something that sounded as though they were attempting to comfort me. Then, I felt warmth as something started carefully rubbing into my head and back. I made a noise of alarm, but the more it continued, I began to calm down. It was quite soothing.

  It seemed to be a sponge or damp cloth. Once my face had been cleaned, I was able to see a little better, and noticed that I wasn't covered in bodily fluids anymore. My body did seem to be quite red, though. And it seemed…strange.

  Wait! I'm really small! I realized in alarm.

  I held my hands up. They were so tiny! What had happened to me? Had I been in a coma for a really long time? Maybe I was really shriveled up, and that's why I was being lifted around like it was nothing. But then, why hadn't I been cleaned until now?

  I heard the voices again, and felt my body lifted into the air once more. I got a slightly better look at the room this time. Indeed, the lighting was warmer than a regular hospital room. That was because it wasn't a hospital room. At least not like one I'd ever seen before.

  It almost looked like a room you would see in a cabin in the woods. The walls were wooden and the furniture seemed handmade, a nearby chair looking roughly crafted. The light seemed to be from candles strewn about the place. And there was a bed low to the floor, straw poking out through the bottom.

  In the bed was a girl. She didn't appear that much older than myself. Practically the same age. She looked exhausted, her brown hair all over the place, but she smiled as she stared back at me, green eyes shining. Next to her, a guy with black hair, maybe a couple years older, also observed me. His reaction was a little more muted, though. I also looked up to see who was holding me, seeing an older woman, probably around my parents' age or maybe a bit younger.

  It was then that I started to realize what was going on, my heart racing as I considered the possibility. My eyes searched the room for a way to confirm, and fortunately, the woman holding me passed by a mirror as she was approaching the bed.

  I was tiny. I couldn't speak. I couldn't understand what these people were saying. I wasn't…me.

  I stared into the mirror and saw a tiny baby's body. And when I looked into his eyes, I was met with my own, new, violet gaze.

  Reincarnation.

  It was hard to fathom. For a few days, I wondered if I was merely dreaming. I'd also heard some people theorize that when you die, your brain might trick you into seeing something like a dream, but you think it's real. Eventually, it was fairly clear this was the real deal, though.

  It was real life. I ate, I slept and I pooped.

  Real life for a baby that is.

  I wasn't sure what to think about my new situation, though. Was this a punishment from some higher power for what had happened with my family before I died. It didn't really seem like it. The people in this house appeared quite kind.

  But surely I wasn't being rewarded. I did try to live according to what I believed to be a good person, but my friends were probably right in their assumption that I should've known what my father was up to. And all that aside, I'd never done anything remarkable.

  Of course, I suppose it's fair to say that my situation wasn't either of those things. It was quite simply a new life. A new chance perhaps? Maybe that was the best way to look at it. I hadn't tried to cause pain. I tried to be a good person. I was just in a situation where people around me had done bad things and I had failed to notice.

  A second chance. Yes, that seemed like a good way to approach this.

  Now, the only thing about that, was that there didn't seem to be any problems to solve. Nothing to do with this chance. Also, I was utterly dependent on the other people in this house. I couldn't walk, talk or eat solid food. I wasn't in a position right now to deal with their problems if they had any.

  As I said before, though, the people here seemed nice. There were three of them. I guess the two younger ones were my parents, which was weird since they weren't really much older than me, especially the woman. Still, they'd taken to parenting quite well from what I'd experienced so far. Especially my new mother.

  The third person was the older woman who had cleaned me up after I'd been…er… born. Gross. She was also quite kind. I'd originally thought she was some kind of maid, but after watching her a few more days, I started seeing the similarities between her and my new father. Their blue eyes were their most striking similarity. So I guess she was my new grandmother. Which was crazy. She had to be about forty years old and she was a grandmother? I guess it's not totally unheard of, but still pretty crazy.

  All this made me wonder more about just where we were. We didn't seem to be in my old country. The language was too different. And while I suppose people there could sometimes have kids in their teens, it was still strange, and it appeared like my new grandmother had given birth young as well. None of this was enough to go on, of course.

  The house was strange, too, however. The room where I'd been born was my parents' bedroom. I know some people have home births, but it does seem strange that they'd opted for this without a proper bed and lighting and nothing but a wooden basin for cleaning me. In fact, this whole house seemed out of touch with the times. I hadn't seen a single electrical appliance and the furniture was all roughly handmade.

  This made me consider two things. One was that perhaps I'd been reincarnated in a different time period. I hadn't had a good glimpse out the windows yet, but we seemed to be living in the country, a couple farms nearby. But the way everyone here dressed, and given the lack of modern conveniences, I had to guess renaissance or medieval.

  There was also the chance that I'd been reincarnated into some weird family that lived off the grid. Now, I didn't want to be greedy, but I sincerely hoped that wasn't the case. If smartphones were available, I wanted one.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  A few months went by, and I started to get my bearings a little more. I could use my limbs better, and I was even starting to pick up on some of the language. I didn't try speaking in front of my family on the off chance it freaked them out, but I would practice a few words when I was put to bed for a nap or left alone briefly.

  I also learned everyone's names. My mother was named Ralena, my father was Jareth, and my grandmother was Edeth. I hadn't heard a surname yet, but I supposed there wasn't much need for them to say it. My new name was Jorian by the way, although my mother had taken to calling me Jory.

  Another name I heard mentioned often was Marielle, and also Roland. I hadn't seen anyone else since I'd been born, though, so I wasn't sure who those people were. My best guess was that they were family or friends, though. There was also someone named Seraphelle, but I was pretty sure that was a god or something because it was often accompanied by prayer gestures.

  I tried to think if Seraphelle was the name of any gods I knew of. It sounded almost French, but as far as I knew the French had believed in Christianity or Catholicism for centuries. Other than that, I had no clue. Did French Canadians have some other god?

  But this was when I began to wonder about a new possibility regarding my situation. Perhaps I'd not simply been reincarnated into another time period or country, but rather a different world entirely. I'd read fantasy stories about that kind of thing, but it was ridiculous to think it could actually happen, right?

  "Jory!" I could hear my mother saying as I crawled along the floor, searching the house for any clues about this.

  She scooped me up and smiled at me, seemingly enjoying my curiosity. I suppose mothers everywhere were like that. They wanted their children to be enthusiastic about the world.

  Well, my new mother, you have your wish!

  She said something to me that I still couldn't understand fully. The best I could gather, though, was that she wanted me to be careful. I mean, I suppose it was good of her to care, but I didn't seem to be around anything dangerous. I was simply exploring the front of the house. I'd largely been confined to the back so far, so this was a good chance to see more.

  "Oh, Jareth!" Ralena then said with a sigh, shaking her head as she held me with one arm and moved something out of the way.

  My eyes widened.

  My mother was moving some kind of long, thin leather object with a hilt sticking out of it. There was no doubt about what it was, and it made sense to me now why she wanted me to be careful. It was a scabbard with a sword in it!

  I couldn't help but reach out towards it. This was further evidence of where I was. Or when I was. Even off the grid types liked their guns, right? So if a sword was the weapon of choice, were we in a medieval era? And if that was the case, was it a different world?

  Seeing my interest, my mother let me touch the hilt of the sword. Obviously I wasn't strong enough yet to pull it out of its scabbard, so she seemed to feel it was safe enough. It was very cool to put my hand on a real sword.

  I had to wonder, though, what did Jareth use this sword for?

  It was a few more months before I got my answer.

  While Jareth did seem to be the main provider for the family and attended to my needs when necessary, he didn't seem to always want to be too close to me. He held me at times, fed me when he needed to, and even changed my undergarments when they were soiled, so he did his fatherly duties well enough. He just didn't seem too thrilled about those tasks and passed me off to Ralena and Edeth when he had the chance. I suppose I couldn't blame him. I wasn't a huge fan of babies myself.

  Sorry for my tiny body's incontinence, father!

  This did make my research into him more difficult, though.

  Ever since I'd seen the sword, I wanted to know what Jareth got up to with it. Even if the answer was as simple as it being for protection, or that he had duties as some kind of soldier, I desperately wanted to know. It would at least give me a better idea not only about him and what he did, but also where the heck I was.

  I had picked up more of the language since then, but I still hadn't learned enough to figure out what I needed to know. Some of the words were probably names of places or people which made understanding basic words even harder. Still, just based on the fact that there were unfamiliar names seemed to suggest further this was an entirely different world. I did want to confirm that fact, though.

  It was around the time of my first birthday. I was feeling a little strange that day. I mean, it had been a year since I'd died, right? That was weird. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to be feeling trauma over what had happened, or if it was okay that I was moving on. I mean, I didn't really have a choice. I needed to get used to this place. I suppose being preoccupied like that was simply a way I was able to cope.

  Anyway, we obviously weren't as wealthy as my old family had been. Even if we had been, since we appeared to be in a medieval era, I don't think I could've expected anything similar to birthdays from my old life. Also, from what I could gather, birthdays weren't fully celebrated every year. I only picked up on this fact due to a couple months earlier Edeth receiving special gifts from my parents for her, "year of Serphelle's blessing" or something like that. Again, my grasp on the language wasn't clear yet.

  Nonetheless, my family still prepared a small celebration of sorts with a nice meal and a cozy night in. However, as we were settling down and Edeth was telling some kind of story, there was a knock at the door. It sounded fairly urgent and my father ran to the door immediately.

  A man in cheap looking leather armor was at the door and started speaking rapidly when my father opened it. Before the other man was even finished, Jareth was scrambling to get his sword and slipping on his leather boots. My mother was alarmed, but Edeth didn't seem too worried. I was simply too curious and fascinated as I watched.

  While it did bring a fairly abrupt end to my birthday celebration, I didn't mind at all. This was perhaps the most exciting thing that had happened in my new, young life. Was someone being attacked? Was Jareth going to lead a heroic charge into battle? I could understand my mother being worried, but considering my father from my past life, I was quite excited about the prospect of this one being a relied upon soldier.

  It wasn't actually too long until Jareth returned. My mother rushed to the door as soon as he stepped through, leaving me in Edeth's arms. I had to squirm quite a bit to get a good view, but before Ralena rushed Jareth off to get cleaned up, I got a good glimpse of the dirt and grime covering him. He was covered in blood!

  But the blood was…purple?

  Another six months went by.

  By now, I was getting a much better grasp of the language, and I even felt comfortable babbling a few words in front of everyone else. I took full advantage of this new comfort of course, and made sure to ask lots of questions.

  Edeth, as grandmothers often were, was eager to answer.

  It seemed as though Jareth was, in fact, some kind of soldier. Or at least, he was, and if the need arose, could be again. Currently, he was part of the town guard, and was one of the most capable fighters. Since we lived on the outskirts of town, he was responsible for protecting the farms from bandits and monsters. Bandits were rare, but monsters showed up often enough that he was put to good use.

  Yes, that's right! Monsters!

  It seemed I was, in fact, in another world. I'd actually learned that I was in a country called Arulon, which was part of a big continent known as Aruelle, which also was home to four other countries. And, surrounding Aruelle, were four other continents. The village I was born in was just a tiny part of Arulon, and wasn't even visible on the map of the country, let alone the continent, or even the world.

  That was exciting to me. That meant that there was a big new world to explore. Edeth was going to be very busy teaching me all about it.

  Despite the world being so vast, however, my mother had never left our small village, and Edeth had only been to a couple neighboring towns. Jareth was the only one who had gotten a sense of the vastness of the land, and he didn't seem to talk about it much. In fact, he and Ralena were very quiet when the subject came up about his time away. Edeth only told me when the two of them were out one day, and I suspect it was partly because I still didn't use the language all that well, and because she figured that as a little kid, I wasn't going to remember.

  Anyway, it seemed as though Jareth was called to train as a soldier at fourteen. He had apprenticed with the town guard once he was thirteen, and then a skirmish had broken out on the border of Arulon with the neighboring country of Marivale. This led to soldiers being deployed, and Jareth's training was moved to a different town and he was kept as a reserve.

  About a year and a half in, Jareth was actually deployed and fought for the Arulon army, his squadron helping save a girl from a noble family. He was stationed there for the remainder of the war, before returning here, earning himself a decent wage until his departure. Shortly after he returned, he married Ralena. And then I was born.

  It sounded quite impressive, and it made Jareth's reserved nature make much more sense. Poor guy probably still had war on his mind, and he'd been thrown into fighting when he was still so young. And he already had a kid to take care of, while monsters were roaming the woods near his home. Talk about stress!

  Still, it was a shame if the only way to travel was through joining the army. I tried asking Edeth about this, making sure to sound as innocent and childlike as I could.

  "G-Gwamma? Can I go pwaces even if I'm not a soldier wike dada?"

  She looked at me curiously for a moment. I guess I overdid it there, but I had no idea how I was supposed to sound. I mean, I don't remember consciously thinking about how to speak when I was a year and a half the first time.

  Fortunately, she answered a moment later. "Oh, I'm sure you'll be able to go lots of places, dear. Your parents' friend Marielle travels all over Arulon. Merchants even travel across the seas sometimes."

  Oh? Merchants, eh? And Marielle…this was a name that had come up many times. My parents' friend, she said?

  "Where is Marielle?" I asked.

  Edeth smiled knowingly. "Oh she's off on a trading mission right now. She'll visit soon enough, though. She'll want to meet her godson!"

  Godson? Ah, so Marielle was that close to my parents. Well, that was interesting information. And if she was some kind of merchant that traveled across the country, perhaps that meant there was some kind of chance for me to see more of this world.

  I smiled, excitement shining in my violet eyes. I couldn't wait to meet my godmother!