whispers of spring

The sun rose slowly, casting golden rays through the window and warming the wooden floors. I lay bundled in the shawl, warm yet uneasy, my thoughts racing as I tried to make sense of my new reality. Was I here by fate or some cosmic error? Was this another world—or something far more complex?

My memories of my past life, from the pain and loss to the final moments on the hospital bed, felt both distant and vividly close.

As I settled into the quiet warmth of the shawl, my surroundings began to come into sharper focus. The room was rustic and intricate, like a snapshot from a fantasy novel—wooden walls adorned with carvings, bookshelves stacked with ancient tomes, and strange glowing objects that cast a soft light over the room. My gaze lingered on the shelves, wondering what secrets the books might hold.

So far, my world was confined to these walls, and the outside remained an enigma. I had no answers to where I was, why I was here, or what lay beyond the snow-covered landscape visible through the windows. The questions simmered, but as much as I wanted to demand answers, my infant form betrayed me.

Time passed slowly but steadily, and I began to notice subtle changes in the air and light. Winter’s icy grasp finally loosened, replaced by the gentle warmth of spring. The snow melted, revealing patches of green that hinted at a livelier landscape beyond the house.

Roseline grew more relaxed as the days grew brighter, her demeanor softening as she took me out of the cradle more often. Fren, however, remained distant—not emotionally, but physically—as he spent more time near the treeline or sharpening his sword by the porch.

On one particularly bright morning, Fren noticed me staring out the window, my tiny hands reaching instinctively toward the sunlight. He chuckled and crouched down beside me, his massive frame casting a long shadow over the floor.

“Looks like someone’s got cabin fever,” he said, lifting me easily in his arms.

“What are the two of you scheming?” Roseline’s voice broke the moment as she walked into the room, her silver hair catching the sunlight.

“Raizen wants to go outside,” Fren explained with a grin, holding me securely.

Roseline hesitated, her protective instincts kicking in. “The fields, maybe? The snow’s melted, but…” Her voice trailed off as she glanced toward the treeline.

“It’ll be good for him,” Fren said firmly, his tone carrying a rare note of confidence. “The fresh air will do wonders, and I’ll be there to keep him safe.”

Roseline sighed, clearly torn, though she eventually relented. “Fine. Tomorrow, then.”

The promise of freedom—of seeing the outside world—sparked a sense of anticipation within me. The prairie would be my first real glimpse of life beyond these walls, and I wasn’t going to waste the opportunity.