That's not me!
Bailey fell backwards onto the hard wood floor, making a thumping noise. He held his head in his hands. They weren't his hands either - they were more calloused and tanned then he expected, rough against his face. Strands of blond hair fell between his fingers.
So it was real.
I died, and now I've reincarnated in a different world!
But I don't have enough information. I need to know whose house I'm in and what's going on.
"Amos!" A woman's voice resounded from downstairs, "You awake yet, lazybones?"
Shit! Does this woman know I'm here? Did she put me in this bed? Did I just spawn in her home?
I need answers!
Bailey became lost in his thoughts, trying to come up with a plan. He decided to do his best to pretend to be an innocent traveller, and try to learn as much about this world as he could. Then, maybe, once he'd learned about the people around him and gauged how they might react, he might share his secret.
But for now-
A woman burst through the door, slamming it against the wall. It shuddered against its hinges in fear of the woman's fury.
"Amos Eventi Aquila! So you are awake!"
Bailey was stunned, and looked around the room for who she might be addressing. There was no one named Amos in the room, but she was looking straight at him.
"Um, yes," he said dumbly.
"I've been shouting for you to come down and eat, how dare you ignore your mother?"
Mother?
"Oh, sorry."
The woman's expression softened when Bailey apologised. She shut the door gently and came to sit next to him.
"Are you doing okay, darling?"
She reached out to push Bailey's now blond fringe out of his eyes, but Bailey flinched away. Her countenance became even more concerned for him.
She had the same grey eyes as Bailey's reflection and her brow was creased with worry. She appeared to be middle aged, from the laughter lines and crow's feet on her face. She wore a pair of overalls stained by some brown substance - most probably mud - over a heavy set build.
She's acting like she knows me.
And she called herself my mother...
I must have reincarnated into someone else's life!
I can't tell her that I've taken the place of her son, it'll break her heart...
The best option is to pretend to be Amos Aquila!
Bailey cleared his throat and shook his head.
"Haha, yeah, I'm okay mum. Just spacing out, y'know?" he said.
Amos' mum scrutinised Bailey wearing her son's face for a moment before shrugging. "It's too early to be spacing out, lazybones. Save it for the fields."
"Yes ma'am!" Bailey tried a joke salute.
"Ma'am?"
Shit, this would go so much better if I just keep my mouth shut.
Bailey cleared his throat again, nervously. "Yeah, uh, anyway. What's cooking? It smells good."
"Amos, are you sure you're okay?" Amos' mum touched his head with the back of her hand, checking for a fever, "You know your father makes us his famous eggs every morning."
"Sorry, I'm feeling a bit dizzy right now," Bailey mentally kicked himself. Amos' mother watched him stare blankly for a moment before shaking her head.
"He's making them 'extra special' this morning, whatever that means, so just say you can really tell the difference or something. He'll love it."
Bailey nodded.
"Come on, it's the last day you'll see your brother for a few weeks."
Bailey cast a glance at the messy bed on the other side of the room from his.
Two parents and a brother. Seems like a functional family...
Amos' mum got up and led the way downstairs, towards the smell of breakfast. Bailey just followed.
At the bottom of the stairs was a medium sized table made of knotted wood. Markings and scratches along the make of the chairs denoted them as being hand crafted. Bailey could see the heads of nails poking out in the joining pieces of wood. Each chair held a cushion embroidered with a different farm animal.
On the opposite side of the large room from which Bailey and Amos' mother entered stood a middle aged man with a retreating hairline. He wore a leather apron and was just turning off the stove when Bailey entered.
"Ah, my other son! Awoken from his accursed eternal slumber by the scent of my extra special eggs, no doubt!"
Amos was cursed?
"Stop it, Dad," sighed a young man that bore a startling resemblance to Bailey's reflection. His features were sharper and thinner than Bailey's, giving him a wispy look as he worked over various papers spread across the table. "Amos works too hard to put up with your teasing."
Bailey smiled at him.
So not cursed...
The young man nodded and returned to his papers, making notes in a language that Bailey couldn't read.
I'll have to learn how to read. For now, though, I'm lucky to be able to speak the language...
Amos' father grinned, but acquiesced. He came up to the table where his wife was sitting down and kissed the top of her head. Then, he began divvying up the eggs into equal servings, sliding them onto the waiting plates.
"Here you are, Leila, my dear," Amos' father said, "and for my two boys... Then me." Finally, he put the pan back on the stove and returned to the table with his family. He dusted his hands and scooted his chair forward.
Leila and Amos' father bowed their heads and laid their arms flat on either side of their plates. Amos' brother didn't follow suit, but looked at Bailey in exasperation. He rolled his eyes at their parents and Bailey smiled at him again. The married couple both closed their eyes and began to speak a short prayer in unison.
"Thanks be to the Emperor, Overlord of the West, Ruler of Silver. Thanks be to Him who protects us. Thanks be to His noble purpose, which he gracefully shares with us all. Praise Progress."
"Praise Progress," muttered Amos' brother unceremoniously.
Emperor? Is he the ruler of this place? What is his noble purpose? Is he a religious figure?
"Ahem. Praise Progress," Bailey added quickly.
There's so much I don't know about this world!
The parents picked up their forks and began to eat the eggs prepared by Amos' father. Bailey and his new brother followed suit. It was a simple scrambled egg, salted to perfection. Most of the flavour came from the amount of butter used. Bailey didn't mind the simplicity. He hadn't eaten since he died.
He remembered what Leila said to him earlier, "Oh, uh, Dad... These eggs taste delicious! I can really tell the difference when you make them extra special!"
Leila winked at him from across the table. Amos' father flashed his childlike grin again, "It's butter and cheese! Can't have them like this everyday, though," he said with an air of sadness, "I wanted to make them special since Yakob won't get to have breakfast with us for a while..."
"I'll only be gone three weeks at most, Dad," said Yakob.
"I know, son. We just miss you every time."
"Oh, go by Botre Village on the way to Tarton, will you dear? That Arria makes the loveliest cakes," said Leila.
Yakob smiled, "I go that route every time, Mum."
"And she's a keeper, you know? You better treat her right," said his dad.
"That's right, dear," Leila smiled, "You know a keeper when you see one."
"When are you going to find a nice girl, Amos?" Amos' father turned to Bailey, "You're nearly twenty!"
"Kien!" Leila pulled his ear, "Leave the boy alone."
"Ow! Ow! Sorry!"
Bailey couldn't contain his amusement at the scene in front of him. To go from the horror of dying to such a domestic scene was so absurd that he doubled over in fits of laughter.
The family continued chatting amiably for a while. Kien got up to wash his pan while Leila cleared the table. Yakob cleared his papers and went upstairs to collect some travel essentials from the chest that he shared with Amos.
Bailey sat at the empty table, going through all the information he had passively absorbed from such a short conversation with his new family.
Okay, I have two parents named Kien and Leila, and a brother named Yakob. We live on a farm about a week's travel from Botre Village and Tarton.
There's an empire with a figurehead that has a "noble purpose". Our culture seems to view the Emperor in a semi-religious manner...
There's at least one language here that I can't read. Yakob often travels and seems quite studious, so maybe he would be willing to teach me how to read.
And simple food like eggs with butter is considered a luxury here!
While Bailey was mentally organising himself, his parents had gone out to work on the farm. Yakob came downstairs a moment later with a leather water skin looped around his shoulder and a large travel pack on his back.
Yakob stopped in front of Bailey, "Wanna come see Plunket before we go?"
"Sure," Bailey said, without knowing who Plunket was.
Yakob rapped the table, then left out the front door without looking back. Bailey followed. He noticed a small bronze idol hanging above the door. It was a five pointed star with a bottle icon in the centre. Underneath the bottle were two arms, crossed at the wrists. Bailey made a mental note of the icon for later.
Yakob led him around the back of the farmhouse. Here, there was a single stalled stable squatting underneath the shade of a large tree.
As they approached, Bailey decided to take a risk and turned to Yakob. "Why do you go travelling so much?"
Yakob thought for a moment, "You know I'm studying, Amos."
"Yeah, I know that," Bailey lied, "But what are you actually doing? What are you studying?"
"You've never shown an interest before."
Bailey shrugged. "Just curious."
Yakob sighed. "I'm studying for our future." The two boys entered the stable. "Don't tell Mum and Dad yet, I don't want them getting too excited, but I'm trying to get into the Trenmir. There's a barracks in Tarton."
Bailey nodded sagely, like he knew what that meant.
"The farm won't last forever, Amos. I know you don't want to hear it, but it's true. I don't love the idea of working for the Empire either, but we have to make sacrifices to survive."
The Trenmir has something to do with the Empire? And they have barracks... A military sect? So Yakob is trying to get a more stable job to support the family...
But why does he need to study for that?
Yakob shivered. "Just don't tell anyone."
"Okay, Yakob."
Suddenly, the mule the two boys had been ignoring whinnied and stomped its feet. It was a grey animal with white spots along its back. Yakob reached out to pat its muzzle, and it leaned into his touch.
"Hey, Plunket," Yakob said, "let's get you ready to go alright?"
Bailey watched him retrieve all his riding paraphernalia. In his past life, he had never ridden a horse. Consequently, the only pieces of equipment he could identify were the saddle and stirrups.
Bailey sidled up to Plunket while Yakob outfitted the mule. He patted its muzzle the same way Yakob had done, feeling the coarse hairs. Plunket stepped closer to Bailey and sniffed around his pockets, nibbling at them with his lips.
"Didn't bring him a treat, this time?" Yakob asked.
"No," Bailey responded simply, "Sorry, Plunket. Next time."
Plunket snorted and stepped back, indignant.
"I said sorry!"
Remembering that he was supposed to be a hardened farm boy, Bailey watched Yakob closely to learn the process of saddling and fitting a horse. When it was done, Yakob took the reigns and led him outside, then attached his packs to Plunket's flanks.
Bailey sensed it was coming time for Yakob to leave, and felt he needed to say something.
"Hey," he called to Yakob, "will you teach me to read when you come back?"
"Sure!" Yakob's face split open with a smile, "You've got to work hard for it, though."
"I'm no stranger to hard work."
"I know, Amos." Yakob turned to fiddle with a strap on Plunket's side that wasn't properly attached. "Mum and Dad will want you out on the farm by now. Tell them lots of love."
"You have to leave right now?"
Yakob winked, "I'll see you in three weeks, Amos. Don't forget your promise."
Bailey watched him hop onto Plunket's back. Plunket brayed in protest, but Yakob ignored the fussy mule and leaned down to pat his neck.
"Oh, and I'll bring you a book, too!" Yakob said as Plunket started to trot away, "This'll be so much fun, Amos!"
"Bye, Yakob!" Bailey called back, "Stay safe!"
Yakob waved in return, and was out of earshot.
Yakob's a good son.
And brother.
Bailey sighed.
Now I have to pretend like I know how to work on a farm!