One month passed quickly in Riverford. For Rylan, it was a blur of warmth, soft touches, gentle voices, and the comforting rhythm of feeding and sleep. He existed in a world of pure sensation, responding instinctively to the care of his parents.
He was lying peacefully in his simple wooden crib, sunlight filtering softly through the linen curtains of the nursery, when something utterly unexpected happened. A shimmering, translucent blue window abruptly materialized directly in front of his infant eyes, filling his limited field of vision with glowing symbols and neatly organized lines of text that made absolutely no sense to his newborn mind.
Overwhelmed by this sudden and inexplicable visual phenomenon, and completely unable to comprehend its meaning or purpose, Rylan instinctively reacted in the only way he knew how to express distress. He drew in a sharp breath, his tiny chest heaving, and then unleashed a loud, piercing cry that echoed through the quiet house.
In another room of their small home, Lienea was humming softly as she folded freshly laundered linen clothes, her thoughts drifting contentedly to her newborn son. The sudden, sharp sound of Rylan’s cry instantly shattered her peaceful reverie. Maternal instinct overriding all else, a surge of immediate concern shot through her, and she dropped the neatly folded clothes without a second thought, rushing quickly towards the nursery to check on her precious infant. Isla and Kael, playing quietly with wooden toys in the main room, paused their game, exchanging curious glances at the sound of their baby brother’s sudden outburst.
Just as Lienea reached the doorway of the nursery, her expression etched with worry and her hands outstretched to soothe her crying child, Bron entered the house, his sturdy boots making soft thuds on the wooden floorboards. He carried the familiar scent of fresh-cut wood and damp earth, evidence of his morning spent working in the nearby forest. He took in the scene at a glance – Lienea’s anxious face, Rylan’s loud cries emanating from the crib, and Isla and Kael peering cautiously from the doorway of the main room – and a calm understanding settled over his features.
“Lienea, love, don’t fret so,” Bron said, his deep voice gentle and reassuring as he approached his wife and son. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, then glanced at the date stone hanging near the door. “Today’s the day, isn’t it? Rylan’s one-month mark.”
Lienea paused in her anxious movements, her brow furrowed in confusion as she looked at her husband, then back at the still-crying Rylan. “The day…?”
Bron nodded calmly, a knowing smile softening the lines around his eyes. “Aye, the day his window appears. Remember, it’s always around the first month. Sometimes a bit before, sometimes a bit after, but always close to the one-month mark.”
Understanding dawned on Lienea’s face, relief visibly easing the tension in her shoulders. Of course. She had almost forgotten in her new-mother worry. The Status Window. A normal part of life in Aerthos, even for newborns, although the sudden appearance could certainly be startling, especially for a baby. Isla and Kael, now realizing it wasn't an emergency, crept closer to the crib, their initial worry replaced by childish curiosity as they peered at their little brother and the strange blue glow emanating from above him.
Rylan’s Status Window, now that its initial startling appearance was over, remained a constant, if not consciously noticed, part of his vision. If one knew how to focus their awareness, it was always there, a softly glowing blue overlay on reality. For Rylan at one month old, it displayed the most basic information:
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| Status Window |
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| **Name:** Rylan of Riverford
| **Age:** 1 Month
| **Race:** Human (Aerthos)
| **Class:** None
|
| **Stats:**
| * Strength: 1
| * Dexterity: 1
| * Vitality: 2
| * Intelligence: 1
| * Willpower: 3
|
| **Innate Skills:**
| * Intuition
| * Rapid Learning
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Rylan’s initial years passed in a comforting blur of typical childhood experiences, filled with the constant presence of Isla and Kael. He grew and developed as any normal Riverford child would, but always with his older siblings close by. Isla, with her two years of seniority, took her role as big sister very seriously, often hovering protectively, gently correcting Kael if he played too roughly with baby Rylan, and taking it upon herself to ‘teach’ Rylan about the world, her lessons often consisting of slightly bossy but well-intentioned pronouncements about the ‘right’ way to do things. Kael, energetic and always eager for adventure, saw Rylan as a slightly fragile but potentially interesting new playmate. He would often try to include Rylan in his games, even when the baby was far too young to participate, narrating his elaborate adventures to the often-uncomprehending infant, and occasionally attempting to ‘help’ Rylan learn to crawl or walk, his methods enthusiastic but not always entirely gentle. Rylan, for his part, seemed to thrive in the constant attention and playful chaos generated by his older siblings, his baby gurgles and smiles often directed towards their faces as they peered into his crib or included him in their games.
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One afternoon, Lienea sat beside Rylan’s crib, a well-loved children’s book open in her hands, Isla and Kael settling down on the floor nearby, ostensibly to listen to the story but also keeping a watchful eye on their baby brother. She began to read aloud in her soft, melodic voice, pointing at the colorful illustrations and the simple words beneath them. Rylan, though only a few months old, seemed unusually captivated, his infant gaze fixed intently on the pages, his tiny brow furrowed in concentration as he listened to his mother’s voice and watched her finger trace the lines of text. Isla, ever the observant one, noticed Rylan’s intense focus, nudging Kael and whispering, “Look at him, Kael, he’s really watching!” Kael, initially more interested in playing with his toy soldiers, glanced over at Rylan and then back at his toys, shrugging dismissively but still subtly angling himself to keep an eye on the baby. To Lienea’s surprise, after only a few repetitions of the same simple words – “cat,” “dog,” “tree” – Rylan began to babble sounds that, while not yet clear words, very closely mimicked the shapes and rhythms of what she was reading. Isla gasped softly, her eyes widening in childish amazement, while even Kael paused his playing, momentarily impressed despite himself. Days turned into weeks, and Lienea continued to read to Rylan every day, often with Isla and Kael joining them, sometimes listening to the stories, sometimes just using story time as an excuse to be near their baby brother. It wasn’t long before the villagers, initially amused by the stories of the baby who seemed to ‘listen’ so intently, began to murmur in genuine astonishment. Rylan, barely a year old, was clearly and undeniably beginning to recognize and even ‘read’ simple words in his books, far ahead of any other child in Riverford’s memory. Bron and Lienea, while secretly thrilled and immensely proud, simply smiled and attributed it to Rylan being a particularly “quick” and “bright” little one, pleased that their children were forming such a close bond, and still completely unaware of the extraordinary skill of Rapid Learning quietly blossoming within their youngest son.
That night, as the peaceful quiet of Riverford settled over their home and Rylan drifted into the deep, untroubled sleep of infancy, strange and vivid images began to flicker behind his closed eyelids. He saw fleeting glimpses of a world utterly unlike Riverford – a sprawling, noisy city teeming with unfamiliar faces and brightly colored vehicles, a chaotic jumble of concrete and steel under a hazy sky. He saw a flash of a brightly colored ball bouncing into a street, the terrifyingly close image of a huge, speeding bus, and then a sudden, jarring sensation of impact. Interspersed with these disturbing images were softer, more indistinct impressions – a sense of immense warmth, a feeling of being enveloped in kindness, and a fleeting, almost dreamlike vision of a woman’s face, radiating gentle power and ineffable compassion. Unseen by Rylan, Isla and Kael, in their own beds in the next room, stirred slightly in their sleep, subconsciously sensing a shift in the atmosphere of their home, a subtle change they couldn't quite understand but which registered in their young minds as something… different about their baby brother.
He awoke from these strange dreams with a soft whimper, his tiny body momentarily tense, but the lingering fear quickly dissipated in the comforting warmth of his blankets and the familiar quiet of his nursery. He had no conscious understanding of the images he had seen, no memory of a past life or a conversation with a goddess. Yet, something subtle had shifted within him. A spark of Mihir’s adult intelligence, his accumulated experiences and observations from a previous life, had quietly ignited within the fertile ground of Rylan’s infant mind. He remained, outwardly, a normal baby, loved and cherished by his family, especially by his ever-present older siblings, Isla and Kael. But deep within, the seeds of a different kind of awareness had been sown, ready to slowly germinate and grow as he journeyed through his new life in Aerthos.
