Welcome, everyone, to this new project I wanted to try my hands on. I am a very new novice author so I want to apologize in advance should my writing be inadequate to your reading.

I want to start this out by saying that this was born from a simple and unrefined idea that wouldn't leave me be, so don't expect the story to be highly detailed and thoroughly planned out. I am going with the flow and hoping the results will be acceptable.

I am undecided on pairings, assuming there will be any, so if you have any suggestions, leave them in the reviews or in private messages for me to contemplate!

Disclaimer: All rights to go their respective creators, I own none and nothing in this story!

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My name is Oscar Ignatio Moebius... I suppose to really be able to express myself honestly, I should start all the way at the beginning, at the beginning of what I could remember that is...

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I awoke with a small jolt. Or well, 'awoke' wasn't really the right word to use for this instance. It was more like my senses were slowly coming to me and I was registering a... light? It was small, faint and in the distance, but quickly approaching me, until... it enveloped me completely and I could not see a damn thing... for about 5 seconds.

Then my vision began to sharpen itself and I was seeing. Blurred at first, but I was seeing none the less. The first sight I caught was of a woman with a cloth used to cover her hair similar to how one may have seen old bakers or nurses use them. She wore a simple brown garb over her figure with a buttoned up topside for minimal cleavage. However, the really striking part about it was that she was huge. Massive as far as my perspective went.

My vision then shifted as I was clearly being moved by that woman and I was then laid against something soft. Something warm, slender. My brain, which had been short-circuiting this entire time due to the sheer bizarreness of the whole ordeal finally decided to get up from its lazy ass, metaphorically speaking of course, and began to compute these events that were transpiring before me.

Theories raked themselves up in shelves.

A dream? Too vivid, too real to be such.

Hallucination? Too sensational, stable and fluid.

So this had to be real. But the question was, what was 'this'?

Well, when my eyes looked up and I saw the smiling visage of a blonde woman looking down on me with that loving gaze in her eyes, it dawned upon me like a hammer being dropped on my head from the top of a skyscraper:

I was reborn.

I just reincarnated as a baby.

The memories of my past life were still there, though the end part was eluding me. I could not for the life of me make out when, or how, I had died. Was it the infamous run over by a truck? Was I shot by a robber during a break in gone wrong? Maybe strangled in my sleep by my viciously vengeful mother in law? Or did I die peacefully in my sleep? I did not know, try as I may I could not figure it out because there was absolutely no response from my memories in regards to that topic.

The woman that held me in my arms, my new mother from the looks of it, spoke words, but I did not understand them in the slightest. It was complete gibberish to my ears, so I understood that wherever this was, it was not the same land as where I had lived.

There were truthfully thousands of thoughts, emotions and expressions I wanted to make, but the collision of all of it at the same time within the confines of my simple brain was tiring me out more than getting me worked up. Thinking-induced fatigue is real, and it was relentlessly beating my sorry behind right now, so much so that my new baby body decided to let loose a yawn that I had no control over whatsoever.

My fatigue bested my rationale and I ended up feeling my eyes grow droopy and heavy, slowly closing themselves as the feeling of being tired got the upper hand and I drifted away into slumber, slowly, unable to stop it from happening...

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When next my consciousness returned to me, I felt rejuvenated in a way I hardly could remember to have been in my life. Was being a baby truly this energizing? I would regret the thought of liking anything about my new existence no sooner than a single hour later, when I pooped myself with no self control whatsoever. I completely forgot how difficult it can be WITH a baby due to their high uptime for their needs and complete physical inability to have any decency in regards to toiletry, but AS one? That was a whole other ball game of embarrassing.

It did not matter what age you were, pooping yourself was one of the most shameful acts you can commit in both the eyes of yourself and society at large. Few things are as mocked, as looked down upon and as dehumanizing as the loss of your ejection control. The fact I was a baby and had a solid excuse did absolutely nothing to ease myself from feeling so embarrassed that I instinctively started to cry without any ability to stop myself. A fate worse than whatever death I may have suffered.

My mother, bless her pure heart, was quick to figure out what had happened and what caused the crying... or not, because how could she compute the fact that there was a grown man's mind in the body of her baby boy? But she did figure out quickly that her child had dirtied the diapers and needed a change. Yeah, remember when I said that pooping yourself was embarrassing? Try having your ass wiped by someone else because you physically can't do it on your own. Never have I even imagined it possible to feel this helpless and pathetic in my entire existence. I will probably be traumatized by the memory for life, crying myself to sleep through countless nights with cringe upon the mere thought of this sad, sad life I am being subjected to. Words can only express so much about how embarrassing this all is for me.

And don't even get me started about breastfeeding. I want to fight it, I truly really do, but the little knowledge I have about babies compelled me to swallow my pride and drink away. Why, you may ask? Because a baby doesn't have its own immune system at first, but relies on its own mothers through consumption of her breast milk. I have to endure for, if my memory serves me correctly, 6 months of sucking my own moms tits while being consciously aware that being a grown person mentally makes this a few shades of fucked up I am not even ready to talk about.

Being reborn as a baby is the height of hell and a fate I cannot bring myself to wish upon my worst enemy. Nobody deserves to go through this trauma, nobody...

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5 years later

It has been an excrutiating 5 years since my new life began and in that time, a great many things had developed.

To start with, I now know my name. Oscar. Named after my great great grandfather who was a renowned knight and something of a local hero.

Secondly, I developed. Growth truly was one of the fewest silver linings I could argue existed in this tormented fate I had been subjected to. The pride upon learning to crawl, to walk, to run, to climb, to speak, to read, the experiences I had going through these life-altering trials was wondrous. Not nearly enough to make up for all the shame I had to endure, but none the less worthy of a mention. I quickly learned how to be literate due to the mature nature of my mind, earning me a rather undeserved title of prodigy from my mother.

I also learned a bunch of new things regarding this life and world.

To start with, this was not my world. The language I learned was incomparable with any writing I had known, the letters were in an alphabet that strongly resembles the arabic letters you are reading right now, but each having their altercations to them that made this none the less a different language altogether. Secondly, the world I inhabit was primitive in many aspects, middle ages levels of primitive. The aesthetic was ancient, clothing and architecture was definetly not from the modern times I could recall, and what technology we do have such as lamps, pipeline systems and sewage, was in part due to the existence of magic. Or more specifically, objects imbued with magic known as Magic Stones.

That was the big lesson number 3 for me. Magic was real. I lived in a world where fantasy elements were real. How did I conclude fantasy overall and not just magic? Partly due to my mother, because she told me about all the different races out there. Dwarves, Elves, Hume-Bunnies, Chienthropes, Werewolves, Cat-folk and others, which meant the racial aspect was there. But also the existence of magic overall, such as spells and theories about it existed. Furthermore, the world runs on an economy of its own known as Valis, or Vali for singular, an economy powered at large by said magic stones, which are apparently drops from monsters spawned by a big dungeon at a location known as 'the center of the world'.

So that was a discovery. My child-like inner fanboy was thoroughly rattled and reawakened and I found myself immensely immersed into it all... and yes, I am not lost on the irony of using the word 'Immersed' while quite literally living it first hand.

Now, for those attentive enough, they may have noticed I only ever say 'Mother' when refering to my parents. Turns out my father is a coward and a runaway... ditched my mother first thing when he found out she was pregnant. Poor thing was inconsolible and when I asked about him the first time with what she assumed was child-like innocent curiosity, she damn near broke down trying to change the topic. Good thing I had the mind of an adult to pick up on these things and move on with the topic...

As it turns out, the world runs on a completely different logic than what I was used to. Gone were most of the luxurious comforts of the modern life I knew. That took a few months to truly settle in. And I mean TRULY settle in, because you cannot understand what it is like to be thrown 500 years into the past lifestyle-wise unless you experience it first hand. The culture-shock I received made me pass out, straight up.

But there is an upside. I could live out some of my deepest, most intricate dreams that I have had as an adult and as a man going through life. The life of a warrior seeking fame and glory, riches and bitches as they may say, to lay down my life for another, to overcome insurmountable odds and to truly stack myself against the weight of the world. I could not surpress myself from whispering a little "hell yeah" to myself when i realized that I could live inside what many people can only dream to be more than a video game or a movie.

On the day of my 4th birthday, my mother showed me something within the village I had grown up in. At its center was a rather large boulder, and stuck in it was a sword. Yeah, I know, very Arthurian, but the visuals was where the resemblance ends. She told me of this old legend that whoever can pull out the sword will be able to wield its true power, which nobody knows what it is, just something extraordinary.

But, allow me to be real, my scrawny build could never even hope to pull that thing out of its confine, so I knew I had to begin small, start at the beginning, which was training. Since then, I had done basic exercises at first, some running, some push ups, pull ups using the doorframe - something mother was NOT happy about - and sit ups. You know, very routine like fitness to get started.

All of this brings us to today...

The day of my 5th birthday.

My mother had invited her close friends, 3 of them to be exactly, to celebrate with us, sharing cake and sweets and partying with them while I received gifts from each one of those other people, all of which were women. One gifted me a new shirt, the second gifted me a small earring in the shape of an simple 8 as a good luck charm, but the third gift was where it got real. The third gift was a wooden sword for me to use for practice.

I was so excited I had almost forgotten to thank the nice lady before I rushed outside to begin practicing with it. First, I needed the basic muscle memory, so I knew at least to start by practicing one swing, a simple downward slash, 100 times. My goal was 100 times, but I got tired around the 20 mark so I set it as my first milestone to achieve.

Since then, day in day out, i'd practice twice a day, in the morning and before going to bed, doing as many swings as I could.

This would be a long and tiresome life, that much I can see. But it will be a life worth living... I hope so, at least.

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12 years later

Life flew by like a flash for me. I intensified my training regime every time I hit a new mile stone. I added higher numbers, incorporated new and intense workouts, added basic punching and kicking training, asked my mother to help me make dummies out of leftover straws and other things that seem menial in their lonesome, but ended up adding together into an intense training regime that kept me fit and going every day of my life.

I was in the late stages of my teenage years now and I could feel my body was in its prime. Pulsing with energy, with thrill, with the exhilirating feeling of wanting to do something exciting, like go on an adventure.

However, such a thing would sadly happen in a way I can only wish to never occur to anyone else.

One moment, everything was peaceful, and the other, explosions. Fire everywhere, people screaming, wounded and dead littering the streets.

When I came to myself, my head was bleeding from a wound because the ceiling of our house crashed in over us. I survived because my mother shielded me from the impact, but at the cost of her own life.

I despaired seeing her dead. Regardless of how I felt for my own reincarnation, she was still my mother. She willingly took care of me every day with nothing but pure love and devotion, she raised me, helped make me the man I was now, cared for me in a way nobody else ever did, both in this life and my previous one. She had well and truly loved me and her smile had been one of my greatest prides in my life. To see her lifeless body atop my own... it broke something in me I never realized I had.

I wanted to mourn her properly, to cry out and scream, but my rational part reminded me that if I do that now, I might as well make her sacrifice worthless by dying with her. So I slowly crawled out from underneath her, gritting my teeth and biting through the pain I felt in my body. Once I finally got out from underneath the ruins of what was once my childhood home, I could make out clearer what was happening. A monster parade was running over our lovely little home. Hellhounds and Goblins in large numbers were swarming the village, setting fire to the buildings and killing, no, slaughtering any living sentient they came across with extreme prejudice.

Then, to my horror, I discovered that one of the hellhounds spotted me and it immediately opened its jaws to throw a bolt of fire at me, which I only narrowly dodged due to the sheer surprise it took me by.

I crawled and ran, trying to escape it but it was futile, the dog-like monster was simply faster than I was and eventually it cornered me. With my back against the city's boulder, I had no more escape. I could only do one of two things: Gamble my life away or just sit there and die.

I chose to gamble it away. Why I did that, I do not know, but if I had to describe it, it was... like a feeling compelled me to. I reached for the sword stuck in the side of the boulder and pulled. At first, nothing, it did not budge, it did nothing at all. But as my frustration and fear grew, it slowly began to inch towards me, bit by bit. And then, eventually... it came undone from its stony prison.

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When next my eyes snapped open, I was no longer in the village that was burning down, but in an area that was... pure white. No matter what direction I looked at, it was a perfect, flawless, shadowless white.

Well, almost all of it. There was me occupying its otherwise sublime space with my colours, and then there was a... blue-ish reflection of me standing before me.

"Welcome, partner" It greeted me by with this slightly distorted voice that had its own innate echo, resounding every letter it spoke twice, each time more silent than before. "You're surprised, after pulling me out you really expected me not to greet you properly?"

Oh, so that was what it was. The sword I pulled out was talking to me, mentally if I had to guess.

"But if we are in here, what's happening out there?" I asked it with slight fear in my tone, my bodylanguage betraying how agitated and nervous I was.

"Calm down" The reflection told me before it clasped its hands together. "Thoughts are infinitely faster than actions out there. By the time our little chatter is done, less than an eyeblink will have passed in the real world" it explained, calming me down somewhat. "I just think we should introduce each others before we let loose upon those beasts"

I... could not deny reason within that suggestion. I did just pull it out from its prison after it was stuck there who knows how long.

"Let me begin with my name" The reflection stated. "Call me Frostmourne" It, er Frostmourne stated before unclasping its hands and crossing them. "As for what I can do... well, you will find out as soon as you kill one of those monsters. Anyway, I won't bore you with the details. I didn't exactly 'choose' you, you aren't some fated one. I simply decided to let you wield me because I decided I wanted to see the world a little and you came at a good opportunity."

"But... why now?" I asked it. Surely, if it wanted to leave its prison, it could have done so anytime someone tried to pull it out.

"Because no one did try to pull me out for the last 50 or so years. You're the first in a long time, boy" It told me, which made a lot of sense actually. Of course it couldn't leave if it never was given the opportunity to.

"Besides, I don't want no weakling to carry me. You trained yourself well, so I guess you will do"

I ignored its rather condescending view on me and just gave it a thumbs up in appreciation. "Then I hope you don't mind if I use you to survive now. I do have to get through a big stampede of monsters after all"

"Yes, yes you do" Frostmourne responded to me before it uncrossed its arms and moved its right hand towards me, clearly aiming for a handshake. "However you are inexperienced in carrying me. So in order to give you the necessary muscle memory, I am offering you this one-time deal. Let me take over your body and deal with the monsters. It is beneficial for me if you survive, which you won't do if you rely only on your own skills"

That was pretty reasonable and true, much as I loathe to admit it. So I instantly put my right hand forth and accepted the handshake without a moment's hesitation.

"Pleasure to have you, Partner" I said, a small smile on my face.

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When I came to me again, I was on my knees, Frostmourne held in my arms before me and around me was... chaos... large piles of dead bodies, both the villagers and the monsters, were all over the area and I could not make 2 and 2 ouf ot it.

"I took care of the monsters for you" Frostmourne echoed in my mind, informing me of what the scenery before me was.

"I see... so I was unconscious while you took over" I reasoned, mostly with myself rather than answering its comment. I slowly got up, only to fall to my knees again as I felt heavy fatigue and aches all over my body. I was wounded, scratches and small burn marks all over my body, my clothes torn and shredded, scorched away so I was almost completely naked.

"Before I relented control to you, I took a look around" Frostmourne added, letting out a small sigh in my mind before it continued. "You're the sole survivor it seems. If anyone else made it, then they ran away far enough to be outside my reach. However I find that unlikely given the village was surrounded. So... you're it, boy" It told me.

This shattered me on the inside and I felt tears stream to my eyes. Now without the imminent threat to my existence, my emotions had nothing to block them off and the damm broke loose. I was definetly there for at least an entire hour, crying and wailing my eyes out at all the losses I just endured. Thoughts such as 'why' and 'why me' echoed in my mind over and over again...

It wasn't until my tears finally stopped, likely dried out from continuously flowing, that I got a hold of myself.

My village was gone

The people I grew up with were dead

My mother was dead

These were the harsh truths. I no longer had a home.

I decided that if my home was gone, I would leave it behind and try to go forward. However, I couldn't just up and leave... It would break what little of my heart I had left if I did that.

So I spent many long hours digging graves for all the intact bodies I could find, burying them one after the other. I did also salvage some clothes that miraculously survived the flames so I wasn't naked, and I found a decent enough leather strap with which I could hold Frostmourne to my back. My mother's grave was the last, and I buried it right next to the stone where Frostmourne had been eched into. I decided that I wanted to bury her near the place of my one protector as some kind of means of honoring her, as if her duty was passed on or something. It didn't make too much sense, I admit that, but it gave me a kind of comfort I needed to process this in a healthy manner.

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you, Mom" I said, silently rubbing the small cross I made out of wood to serve as a marker for her grave. "It should have been you, not me, who lived. I already had a second chance" I continued, feeling my eyes well up again, but no tears came. I slowly lifted frostmourne, strapped it to my back, and turned away.

My life's chapter in this village was concluded. As a tragedy to end, which was the last thing I wanted, but I suppose you can't have your cake and eat it too.

With nothing left but my wits and my new partner, I set out into the wild, taking a random direction and hoping I would find civilization soon...