Chapter 8 - Chapter 7/入る: Flash béarak.

Two months had bled into a blur of wooden ceilings and the rhythmic creaking of a house that smelled of fresh cedar and linseed oil. Inside the spacious Airabel home, the floors were finely crafted—smooth, yet treacherous for a being with no center of gravity.Flash Béarak was currently face-down on a rug, his limbs twitching with a frustration that transcended his infant years.This sucks, his inner voice snarled, the adult consciousness within him finally stabilizing. I'm reincarnated, that much is obvious. But where are the perks? Where's the legendary strength? My head feels like someone's playing a drum on my brain and I can't even hold my own neck up.He tried to lunge toward the living room, but his tiny arm buckled. He collapsed, his face meeting the wood with a soft thud. The sheer indignity of it triggered the one thing he couldn't control: the baby's instinct. A loud, wailing sob escaped him.No, no! Shut up! I was so close to the living room! his mind screamed, but his lungs had other plans.The pounding in his head dulled as a familiar sound drifted from the hearth—the light, busy footsteps of a woman. Sela appeared, her apron still tied over her dress, the faint, savory scent of breakfast stew clinging to her like a perfume.She scooped him up, her presence warm and solid. "Oh, look at you," she cooed, her pale brown eyes scanning his hands and feet. She frowned, spotting tiny specks of wood on his skin. Even finely crafted floors had their dangers for a crawler in the cold season.She made a goofy, exaggerated face, her eyes locking onto his blank, hazel gaze. "Wake up!" she shouted playfully.Flash flinched, the volume making his ears ring. Man, I was about to cry again and you're just making me dizzy.She laughed at his stunned expression. "You always look like you're half-asleep. You're as dirty as a gremlin, little one. Time for a bath… and then food. No more crawling for today, okay?"She leaned in close. Flash, however, was no longer listening. His head whipped toward the kitchen, his stomach let out a roar, and his eyes fixed on the steaming pot.Food… man, I'm starving. Just let me eat before the scrub-down, please! He pointed frantically toward the pot, babbling a series of urgent noises he was certain conveyed his hunger.Sela just tilted her head. "What did I say, hm? Sh-ow-er. Can you spell it out for mommy?"Flash stared at her for a beat, then reached up and gripped her cheeks, squishing them with his tiny hands. Listen here, ya crazy woman! Give me the stew!"Uoga! Aagha maa!" he barked.She ignored the "protest" and plunked him into the warm water of a bucket. She began to hum, adding a specialized solution to the water that smelled of lavender and herbs. Flash's light brown hair caught the morning sunlight streaming through the high window. He momentarily stopped his mental tirade, his body relaxing as she scrubbed his face and rinsed the dust away. He coughed and burp-sighed as she moved to his feet, meticulously picking out the tiny splinter specks.He looked up at her, his mouth finally closed. Her long, lush hair partially obscured her eyes as she worked. She caught his gaze and, for a second, spoke to him as if he were an equal."I'm sorry, my little one. I just want you clean. We're going out today and there's a flu going around. Mama wants to protect you." She paused, then burst into a giggle. "Wait, why am I talking to him like he can hear me? Is that bad, or will it help him speak?"Flash instinctively mirrored her smile, his small hands reaching for her. She lifted him, distracting him with a bout of playful lifting and laughter while she expertly slid him into a fresh set of clothes.The moment the fabric touched him, Flash whined. The wool was high-quality, but on his sensitive skin, it felt like a thousand tiny needles. Mom, thanks, but this feels weird! Why does it itch!"There, much better," she said, applying a soothing ointment to his neck. "Now, let's eat."She carried him to the hearth and tasted the stew. "Argh! Ooh, that's burning!" She quickly pulled a piece of glowing coal from the base of the fire.As Flash's vision began to blur with the onset of "food coma," he watched Sela use a focused flick of her wrist. Using her water magic, she made small, warm bubbles of the stew rise from the pot and float through the air. Flash watched a bubble hover before his face before it drifted into his mouth.Gulp. It was warm and rich with cubed vegetables and meat, but Sela's control was visibly shaky; the bubbles wobbled dangerously. He nearly choked, and she quickly patted his back."Dang it, my water control is still so unstable," she sighed. "I need more practice… oh! I almost forgot! We need to head to Anscalt's bakery and get you your medicine, snot-nosed boy."Flash had forgotten his nose was running—just a reaction to the dust, but in Sela's mind, it was the omen of a plague. Soothed by the food and the warmth, Flash drifted off. Sela looked at a framed photo of her and Riven on the mantle, adjusted her hold on the baby, and threw on her fur coat.She stepped out into the brittle morning air, the door locking with a firm click. The street was a sloped cobblestone path leading down toward the harbors like Jaylin's and Merc's Port."Brr, almost there," she shivered, picking up her pace."Good day, Madame! I mean, Professor!" Sela perked up, her voice echoing across the street as she spotted a woman in a heavy cloak.Ms. Sunspur stopped, startled, then sighed. "Sela, remind me… didn't I tell you not to yell across the streets?"A small boy, Damian, hid behind Ms. Sunspur's skirts, scowling at the world. Sela narrowed her eyes at him. Is that kid sulking? It always pisses me off when someone acts that way."Professor, I'm not one to pry," Sela asked, "but what's wrong with him?""I shouldn't reveal it so soon," Ms. Sunspur whispered, looking around diligently, "but we're off to see a family member who has been ill… and between us, he's just cranky because he lost his favorite toy this morning." She looked back at Sela. "Are you headed to Lady Anscalt's bakery again?"Sela readjusted Flash. "Yes. Are you waiting for a ride? I'd join you, but…" She thought of the bumpy, itchy carriages that frequented the slopes. "The surface is just too jumpy for me. And it's so jumpy inside."She waved a cheerful goodbye and continued down the slope, unaware of the "Legal Constitutions" and shadowy piano-players she had left behind in Whimster, her focus entirely on the warm, sleeping weight of the Duke's forgotten son.