The Problem With Limbs

It didn't take him long to realize he was in a different world. 
His world, however, was very small: mom, dad, ceiling. 

“Too bad”

he kept thinking every time his new mother - his stomach contorting every time the word “mother” came up - left him in his crib. He wanted to see more colors.

“–––––– – –––– –––– –– – ––– ––––– –––“

said the woman, her face round and warm.
The language was completely alien. It sounded like a wild beast was willingly wearing a tuxedo.

“–––––– –––– –– ––– ––– ––– –– Finnean ——-“

her hair tumbling behind her like a waterfall of muddied copper.

Finnean. That much he understood. It was his new name.

The door opened. The tired voice of a man echoed through the house. The woman picked him up and brought him to his - another gut punch - new dad.
Muscular and tall, the man looked exhausted. Still, a gentle smile broke through his stern face before picking him from Gwen. 

 Bramm smelled of soot and hot sweat. His long, ashen blond hair completely dusted with charcoal. He was sure, the father was a blacksmith.

”Sounds like hard work”

he thought upon realization.
His mother’s precise occupation remained a mystery, but she appeared even more busy. Other than caring for him, lots of people came and went. Men, women, young ruffled children. One time even some fresh meat from a rich household stormed in, crying about a strange flower.

“Herbalist” his first guess.

His new home was riddled with unfamiliar plants after all. Despite the cold season, vertical gardens covered the walls, bringing them to life with fruits, vegetables and spices. If she really was a herbalist, Gwen was certainly an unusual one. Old women kept making silly faces at him, -he must have been a cute baby - while letting his mother touch their plants and seeds.
Most people came just for that. Was she blessing their plants? Was his new mother scamming people for a living? 

“Smart” 

he thought.

Seeing how stressed his parents were, he behaved: never screamed, never cried. He allowed himself to shed tears only when thinking about the people he left behind. When particularly gloomy, he even entertained the idea that his pathetic soul had surely taken the place of a new, more deserving one. 

He felt like a villain. One of the worst kinds: he was getting rewarded for his sins.

Mens sana in corpore sano

A healthy mind in a healthy body, and his new one came with a clearer brain. The will to live, a tired, sickly cry in his previous life, was now roaring.

 After all, it was hard to waddle in trauma and self pity when he couldn’t use legs.

”Come on, move! How am I gonna run from predators?”

Or arms

”Stupid arms! How am I gonna punch predators?”

That evening he rested on his father’s lap during dinner.

“I could have done without the smell”

but he appreciated the effort nonetheless. Daylight left the scene, and the family went to bed. He woke up in his crib, engulfed by the darkness and covered in cold sweat. He dreamt about work, just like every other night. The previous few months went by in a similar fashion. A part of him wanting to see and experience this new, vibrant world; the other clinging to his old life, guilt ridden about enjoying this new reality.

“My life did suck back then… did the gods do me a favor?” 

 The mocking laughs of the two boomed in his brain.

“Hell no. I’ll get back at them.”

The snores of his father, deep and loud, gave a rhythm to the night. He found it soothing, in a strange way.

“No. Blaming those jerks is no use. This was my decision. The consequences of finally taking the reins of my life”

”what a shit ride”

He quickly swept the intrusive thought away.

He didn’t know if this new existence was a blessing or a curse.

“A curse.” He thought. The word smelled like the office.

“Never again. I will not waste another life like that.”

There was now a countdown on his head. He thought about his parents, his friends, even old girlfriends.

“I was selfish. I’m sorry. I will be selfish once again.”

He knew what it had to be done

“I’ll work my ass off to never work again”

—————————————————————————————————————

It took nine months for the cold winter that lasted his entire life to slowly fade away, its place taken by more forgiving weather. As the snow started to melt, the city changed its face. The squares and streets were now constantly buzzing with people. Kids playing, merchants trying their luck, old people going for a walk.

His mother picked him up and carefully wrapped him in a baby carrier. She put it on like a backpack and headed for the door. He had never gone out before.

“Leave him inside. This year’s cold is not suitable for a baby”

His father kept saying during the winter. His mother struggled every time to separate from him when leaving the house. Their home was, after all, strangely warm and cozy.

“It’s our love keeping us warm”

Gwen loved to say.

“It’s the heated floor”

Bramm liked to answer.

That morning, when his mother finally brought him out for his first ever outing - 

“Nine months without leaving the house, the true life of a shut in” he mockingly gloated - 

the cold breeze that still lingered made him shiver. Gwen noticed.

“I know Finn. It’s still a bit chilly, even for a winter child like you”

His golden copper hair danced back and forth as his mother briskly crossed the square. They entered a small, neat and well kept boutique. Clothes were carefully folded on tables and shelves.

“Hey Monique, you free?”

“Good morning dear.”

Then she noticed him

“You finally let him out of the house. What a cute gentleman.”

She was stunning. Her long, black hair looked like ink. A couple of grey ones that sprouted tidily from the black mass betrayed her youthful appearance. She took him in her arms, her green eyes softly looking into his honey colored ones.

“And what’s your name, little man?”

“Lady, I have the vocal tract of a baby”

“Da ga gugu”

“Such a good name!” 

the woman snickered. Tall, sensual, probably older than he was when he died. She was definitely his type.

The two women chatted for a bit, he didn’t understand everything, but, at this point, he could get most of it and fill the gaps on his own.

“I need a beanie for Finn. Can you make one?”

“For such a handsome man? Of course”

“Lady, stop complimenting me. I might fall in love.”

Monique seated him on the wooden counter. She gently measured his head and then disappeared in the storage room. The woman came back with a rough piece of fabric and carefully wrapped it around his head.

“What are you doing?”

She began humming

“I thought you were a seamstress”

The tips of her fingers, gently pressing on his head, quickly warmed up.

“This is not how you make clothe-”

The fabric took life. It contorted, merged and finally settled into the shape of a comfortable knitted hat. His heart raced, his eyes widened

“What the heck! Is this magic? Am I in a magical world? Can I use it?!”

He began kicking the air in excitement.

“go gha ghod! (oh my god!)”

“Awww, he loves it! Thank you Monique”

His mother took three square copper coins.

“Don’t be silly. You kept my garden alive this winter, your money’s not good here”.

Mother and son got out of the shop.

“Magic! so cool! I’m so happy I saw it like that!”

As he thought it, a kid ran past them shooting flames from his fingers.

“Damn it”

—————————————————————————————————————

“Show off” he thought.

A performer,more peacock than man, was out in the square once again. His green lips inhaled blue smoke from a pipe as big as a club. When he exhaled, the blue substance started to shape and come to life: soldiers, children, beast people. The man began to sing and dance. It was gripping. Too bad he never performed anything else. However, behind the curtains, the real show was about to begin . Children and adults mixed in the crowd, like clockwork, began pickpocketing the poor people enjoying the show.

“From the sky, thunders descended like arrows”

Hands descended into pockets.

”Val the unyielding raised his sword”

Wallets were raised.

“He growled “This is the day we taste freedom! Or die trying”. The raging sky behind him supporting their wills.”

With a clang, the smoke soldiers began striking their weapons against their shields.

A powerful salute. The birth of a city. A taste of freedom, even for the sniveling thieves that snuck away from the scene. He didn't understand how smoke could produce sounds. The explanation “magic” was not enough anymore. Finn stretched his baby arm and touched a purple fruit that was hanging from the wall

“Come on, come on. Grow! Glow! Come to life and eat the roaches in the attic! Just do something!”

It was no use. He tried, unsuccessfully, to magic something for the past six months. Maybe only special people could use magic. His father never did after all. 

Naked rat was looking at him again. The mole-like, middle aged thief, just like an unpleasant smell, always lingered for a while after a job. As usual, he stopped, looked at him in the eyes and saluted briefly.

“Is this a weird fetish?” the thought of it making him shiver.

”I hope he just wants to rob us”

The sound of a loud horn interrupted the life of the city.

“Oh my! So soon!”

“I have to prepare my stand!” said the customers. 

Bramm walked in, sweaty and covered in soot, and nodded at the people inside his home.

Gwen’s clients, usually wary of him (Finn didn’t understand why), were so excited that they didn’t mind his presence.

His father gently picked him up and then approached Gwen

“We don’t have to go if you don’t feel like it”

“Of course we are going. It’s Finn’s first festival…”

“Are you sure? They’ll be there”

“It’s fine. I’ll avoid them. Hopefully, they’ll avoid me too”

But she looked gloomy. Finn wasn’t used to seeing that energetic and fiery woman like this.

From his favorite window, he observed the city changing at a rapid pace. Stalls with gadgets and food, artisans exposing their creations, little stages at every corner. The following day, the transformation was complete. By the time the family was out, people were already drinking.

“I miss beer”

Some kids were enacting one of the fables his parents liked to read right before bedtime.

“Clang! Clang! Clang! Life keeps hammering. The forge, incandescent. Fragments becoming planets and stars. Sparks illuminating the void. But, the brighter the light, the darker the shadow. From life, death was born. The two primordial gods, intertwined, fighting each other in an endless battle for supremacy.”

A drunk man, clearly invested in the play and excited for the day off, shouted to his friends

“ForgeGod better prevail this cycle. I can’t take this damn winter anymore”

“I say - let’s make our own summer. Stew that damn winter bird!”

“Yeah right, like that’s gonna work. You’re just hungry”

Bramm sighed and looked at his wife

“Making stew out of the messenger of the cosmos. Where are we heading as a socie-”

“Oh shut up” interrupted Gwen.

“Like you wouldn’t eat it”

“I definitely would”

The three of them laughed. The parents were always a bit surprised and amused when he seemed to understand this kind of stuff.

The festival reminded him of his old childhood. Kids running around, fried food and sweets everywhere. People forgetting about their responsibilities for a couple of days.

“Wan dat” he pointed at a donut covered in sweet purple seeds.

His father came back with the pastry and another gift: A wooden stick with little round bells hanging. It was carved in a way that resembled two majestic birds flying in a spiral. 

The day went by smoothly. After long hours spent eating, greeting people (mostly Gwen) and attending performances, they arrived at the central plaza. The place was bright and warm, and not just because it was packed with people and lanterns. Finn looked up

“What the heck?!”

What seemed like a small ball of light was hovering still over the place. It’s light as warm as a snug blanket.

“Is that a damn sun!?”

But the surprises kept coming. A loud mechanical grinding silenced the crowd. A circular hole yawned open in the center of the square, and two birds shot out. One bright red, the other deep blue. Huge and beautiful, they were harmonizing an ethereal melody while circling each other in a rising spiral.

The people present cheered and began to shake their carved festival sticks, the ringing of the bells accompanying the song of the birds. 

Finn copied them.

The animals circled each other for what felt like a beautiful eternity, until the blue one stopped its singing. The bird began to fall, its feathers turning to brittle stone. The body disintegrating completely before hitting the ground. 

The square erupted.

“Finally!”

“May summer last forever!”

“Glory to the Forgegod!”

The red bird, as its opposite became dust, launched a victorious screech and exploded like fireworks.

“I’m glad I could see it”

was all he could think while the sparks of the light show reflected in his eyes.

Another hour passed. Finn was following - as well as his baby legs could - Bramm and Gwen. He insisted on walking

“Gotta learn quick”

The streets were still bustling with people. 

When he was Damien, he didn’t like crowds. They made him uncomfortable, even angry when too many people made the place stinky and hard to move in. But as Finn, they became another form of entertainment, almost a replacement to social media.

“Ahh! If it isn’t my lovely sister.”

A richly dressed, pompous man was standing before them.

Gwen avoided his gaze.

“No greeting? Not that I would expect anything different from some trash married to filth”

“Huh? Is that supposed to be my uncle?” Finn thought.

His copper hair was the same as his mother’s, but their eyes were different. Even if the color was the same, Gwen’s were warm and kind, this guy’s cold and arrogant.

The man spat on the ground. And looked at Bramm

“Is that your son?”

“Better make sure it’s yours. Love children are born unfaithful. They ruin families. Rotten blood. Well, you should know better than anyone”

He laughed. A cold, unpleasant cackle, like nails on a chalkboard. The crowd went silent, everyone was watching.

Bramm’s fist clenched. His eyes full of rage. He was about snap. 

Finn noticed. Immediately, he began his waddle. Slowly, tentatively, he approached his uncle while pretending to play with the carved stick.

“What do you want? Dumb broad, can’t you even keep your son in line?”

WHACK

The stick crashed into his children factory. The man gasped, fell on his knees and covered his family jewels with his hands.

After a moment of silence, the people around them exploded into laughter.

“Did he just hit him in the nuts?”

“Way to go kid!”

Finn kept pretending to play with the stick, swinging it up and down. His mother and father began laughing too. The tension was completely gone. Gwen picked up her son

“I’m sorry, brother. Kids and their … problems with limbs.”

They went home, leaving the unpleasant man behind, still clutching his balls. 

—————————————————————————————————————

“You are three now. Soon your powers will awaken”