I jolted awake looking around, staring at my roof. I sighed with relief before my toddler body managed to crawl itself out of bed. Walking out of my room I could make out the sounds of breakfast being prepared and the aromas of bread and eggs.
I slowly made my way down the stairs, arriving in the kitchen. My dad was sitting at the table, playing with a small stone while my mother was preparing breakfast. I shakily stepped my way over to the nearest chair before gripping onto it and climbing up.
The first time I tasted food again was harmony, it was this beautiful experience that I had to treasure alone. Resting my butt on top of the hard wooden seat, my eyes wandered over to my father as he mindlessly flicked a stone up in the air before catching it.
Father: See this son? It's our family's prized possession right?
The rock while being a rather ordinary stone had a small gem in the center of it and engraved words around it. The gem was bright, almost glowing with radiance and felt rather tingly to look at. My eyes were glued to the stone as my father continued to toss it.
Mother: Thomas, that's enough come on!
Father: Haha, your right Florence don't mind me.
My mothers smile was probably brighter though, it felt as if it could light up an entire night sky. She carefully balanced some plates in her hand, carrying over our breakfast before gently placing our meals followed by a kiss on the cheek. This was a daily experience yet it never felt less comforting.
Looking upon my breakfast I eyed the juicy poached eggs, they were buttered up and pepper was sprung on top of them. I quickly dug in, devouring my meal as my parents calmly ate theirs. Breakfast was just as good as Dinner in my opinion because both are usually spent alongside my parents as we enjoyed our meals.
Eventually I finished my meal before running upstairs to grab a book. But as I returned my parents sat at the table, their faces dead serious looking at me. My father stood up, gently lifting me and placing me on top of his lap.
Father: Avery, we have decided to take you with us into town today but only if you are on your best behaviour. Your mother thinks it will be good for your health and help you say your first word.
Mother: Yes, Avery we are getting worried about you and your silence. Please dear, speak for us alright?
Father: It'll come with time honey. He's just a late bloomer alright.
Late bloomer? I can easily hold an entire conversation if I wanted. I just don't really need to speak and also because I'm kinda scared. I didn't really talk to people in my old life. Just staring idly at the floor replying with mumbles and nods before drifting along like some corpse. While I won't let it get to that again it's still hard to do.
That day we headed into town for the first time. Exploring all that the small village of Wayward had to offer. We lived on top of a nearby hill overlooking the town that we somehow managed to afford. I assume my father worked a rather good job a while back or maybe my mother used her magic to obtain a stable income. Regardless we lived a pretty good life for two parents that supposedly were unemployed.
Heading down the hill I got a proper look at the village, it was about the size of a park in Tokyo and contained maybe ten houses tops. Not including a bakery and blacksmith of course as well as a small tent off to the side of the rest of the village.
The sun blared across my rather pale skin. Due to my lack of outside connection the past three years I had gone quite pale like a frozen body. Reminds me of a guy I knew back in Japan. Walking down the hill, my parents' hands gripped onto mine as we approached the town.
The village was lively with people constantly flocking the center around a small well. From what I can remember my parents saying this town was built long ago by a long wizard named Frey Wayward who was a powerful earth mage. The town was named after them.
My mother let go of my hand before waving us off and heading towards the Bakery. My father instead led me towards the Blacksmith to look at weapons. Approaching the Blacksmith it was a house connected to a small side shed with a giant furnace and anvil. Weapons of all shapes and sizes lined the walls held up by iron bars as we entered.
My eye caught a long blade encased in glass far above the rest. The name Lauralet was written on the glass. What the heck? Lauralet? Not as in us right? I looked over to my dad before quickly using my eyes to navigate towards the sword. He stood there admiring the sword before talking with the blacksmith.
I angrily grunted as I walked up to him, kicking him in the legs as he chatted on. Eventually we left and reunited with my mother as she held a fresh steam loaf of bread and a small cake that she handed to me. It was shortbread with a small pink paste spread across it yet it was lovely to eat. The chewiness of the bread with the overly sweet taste of the paste created a delicate taste in my mouth.
I gleefully devoured the bread before we even made it halfway up the hill. Looking upon the sun it was nearly fully set behind the trees that lay opposite our home. The forest was dark and thick yet supposedly led to the rest of Valencia. Aloa, I think it was called. That's the next town over from here.
I grabbed my parents' hands as we ascended towards my front door. My warm medieval house that rested above the others as if we were royalty meant the world to me. This was my true home, this was the place I wanted to spend my days.