The Clockwork Veil

It's quite strange—I can feel my body, smell various scents, and see the world around me, yet everything appears overwhelmingly large. It seems I find myself confined within a wooden cage. Did they administer some sort of drug before bringing me here? That might explain the bizarre dream I had just moments ago. Perhaps it's best to sit quietly and survey my surroundings.

The room is predominantly decorated in hues of brown and blue, filled with a bizarre assortment of machinery reminiscent of a steampunk enthusiast's wildest fantasies. The large, circular window on one wall is crafted in the shape of a cog, its intricate design sparkling faintly in the dim light. As I observe the room more intently, I notice a peculiar charm hovering above my head—it too is adorned with cogs. Wait... it is FLOATING! What kind of extraordinary technology is at play here? Curiosity piqued, I stretch my diminutive, chubby hands in an attempt to grasp the floating cogs, but I am startled to discover that my hands resemble those of an infant. 

In my eagerness to sit up and investigate further, I try to roll over, but my movements are clumsy. I manage to lean to one side, and what I see in the large, ornate mirror is nothing short of astonishing. A reflection stares back at me—an adorable baby, probably around two years old, with ash-blond hair and striking greyish eyes. It dawns on me that I have somehow transformed into this baby. Fantastic! Marvellous! It appears I now have to navigate life anew, potentially reliving all the schooling years I once completed.

Suddenly, a gentle, melodic voice pulls me from my thoughts. "Hubllie will navy rest," chirps a young woman with a warm smile, her own greyish eyes sparkling as they meet mine. She reaches down with grace and lifts me from my wooden cage, cradling me in her arms and enveloping me in a comforting embrace. As time passes, she begins to breastfeed me—a situation I won't elaborate on, but I feel a strange mix of comfort and bewilderment. 

Moments later, a tall man enters the room, his light beard and ash-coloured hair catching my attention as he steps into the soft light. 

"Ashameid findl erimv ginseb? Sivaa terin cinti finn," he remarks, and I realize that he and the woman are conversing in a language I can't quite grasp. They seem to be my new parents, despite my inability to remember my previous ones. I'm sure I had a family at some point, but there's no point in dwelling on that now. The man, whom I now see as my father, is dressed in an unusual Victorian-era blue cape, elegantly clipped to a matching blue and black uniform that is adorned with various cogs. He looks quite dashing, like a character from a fantasy tale. Meanwhile, my mother wears a simple yet beautifully crafted brown gown, also embellished with cogs that twinkle subtly in the light. This obsession with cogs puzzles me; I can only hope it isn't a trait I will inherit.

After a while, my mother gently places me back in the wooden cage and kisses me softly on the forehead. With a tender smile, she walks towards the door. As she claps her hands, the room magically darkens, and soothing music starts to fill the air. It has a tranquil melody that wraps around me like a warm blanket. This must be some kind of magic or remarkable device like that floating cog. The music is so calming…I think I could easily drift off to sleep.

The next few days unfold with a predictable rhythm: eat, sleep, and repeat. However, during this time, I begin to absorb more about my new environment. My mother's name is Elenna, my father's name is Murvin, and I am called North. I can't help but feel that my parents might not have been particularly creative with my name, yet strangely enough, I find that I quite like it.

As the days go by, I gather that my father spends much of his time away due to his work on ships. Elena wears a proud expression whenever she speaks of him, often revealing that when I am older, I will follow in his footsteps. She shares tales of how my father's family has been involved in this line of work for generations, and I can't help but feel a sense of curiosity about the adventures that await me in this new life. It's strange—I can feel my body, smell, and see, but everything seems so big. It appears I am in a wooden cage. Did they drug me before bringing me here? That might explain the strange dream I had. Let's wait and look around.

The room was mostly brown and blue, filled with unusual machinery that seemed like it came straight out of a steampunk enthusiast's dream. Even the large circular window on one side of the room was shaped like a cog. As I examined the room more closely, I noticed a strange, floating charm above my head, which was also adorned with cogs. Wait... it is FLOATING! Wow, what kind of strange technology is this? I tried to touch the floating cogs with my chubby, small hands, but why are my hands the same as a baby's? I attempted to roll over to sit up and look better, but I could hardly move; I only managed to lean to one side. What I saw was mind-blowing. In a large mirror, I saw the reflection of a baby, probably about two years old, staring back at me with ash-blond hair and greyish eyes. It seemed that I was now a baby. Fantastic! Marvellous! I probably need to redo all of my schooling years and college.

A young woman's voice jolted me out of my thoughts. "Hubllie will navy rest," she said while smiling at me with her greyish eyes. She took me from my wooden cage and brought me close to her, starting to cuddle me. After a while, she began to breastfeed me. I won't comment on that. Eventually, a tall man with a light beard and ash-coloured hair entered the room.

"Ashameid findl erimv ginseb? Sivaa terin cinti finn," the two began to talk. It seemed these two were my new parents; I couldn't remember my old ones, but I was sure I had parents at some point. There wasn't much point in dwelling on it. My now-identified father was dressed in a peculiar Victorian-era blue cape clipped to a blue and black uniform adorned with various cogs. It looked stylish, like something a knight would wear. My mother wore a simple brown gown, but even her gown was covered in cogs. I didn't understand this obsession with cogs; I just hoped it wasn't hereditary.

After some time, my mother put me back in my wooden cage, kissed me on the forehead, and walked towards the door. She clapped her hands, and the room darkened while relaxing music began to play. Wow, this must be magic or some strange device like that floating cog. The music was so soothing. Yes, I think I deserve a good sleep.

The following days were the same: eat, sleep, and repeat. During this time, I began to learn a little about my surroundings. My mother's name is Elenna, my father is called Murvin, and I am North. Yeah, I also think my parents lack creativity, but I quite like my name, so I guess it's fine.

Throughout these days, I also learned that my father was often away because he worked on ships. My mom seemed proud of him; she constantly said that when I'm older, I will also work with my father. She mentioned that my father's family had been doing this for generations. It's quite strange—I can feel my body, smell different scents, and see the world around me, yet everything seems overwhelmingly large. I find myself confined in a wooden cage. Did they give me some sort of drug before bringing me here? That might explain the bizarre dream I just had. Perhaps it's best to sit quietly and observe my surroundings.

The room is mostly decorated in shades of brown and blue and is filled with unusual machinery that looks like something from a steampunk enthusiast's wildest fantasies. There's a large, circular window shaped like a cog, its intricate design sparkling faintly in the dim light. As I look around, I notice a peculiar charm floating above my head, also adorned with cogs. Wait... it's FLOATING! What kind of extraordinary technology is at play here? My curiosity gets the best of me, and I stretch my chubby hands to grab the floating cogs, but I'm startled to see that my hands resemble those of a baby.

In my eagerness to sit up and investigate further, I try to roll over, but my movements are clumsy. I manage to lean to one side, and what I see in the large ornate mirror astonishes me. A reflection stares back—an adorable baby of about two years old, with ash-blond hair and striking grayish eyes. It dawns on me that I've somehow transformed into this baby. Fantastic! Marvellous! It seems I now have to navigate life anew, potentially reliving all the schooling years I once completed.

Suddenly, a gentle voice pulls me from my thoughts. "Hubllie will navy rest," says a young woman with a warm smile and sparkling greyish eyes. She reaches down gracefully and lifts me from my wooden cage, cradling me in her arms. As time passes, she begins to breastfeed me—a situation I won't elaborate on, but I feel a mix of comfort and bewilderment.

Moments later, a tall man enters the room. His light beard and ash-coloured hair catch my attention as he steps into the soft light. "Ashameid findl erimv ginseb? Sivaa terin cinti finn," he remarks, and I realize he and the woman are speaking in a language I can't quite understand. They seem to be my new parents, even though I don't remember my previous ones. I'm sure I had a family at some point, but there's no use dwelling on that now. The man, whom I now see as my father, is dressed in a Victorian-era blue cape, clipped to a matching blue and black uniform adorned with various cogs. He looks like a character from a fantasy tale. Meanwhile, my mother is in a simple yet beautifully crafted brown gown, also embellished with twinkling cogs. This obsession with cogs puzzles me; I can only hope it isn't a trait I will inherit.

After a while, my mother gently places me back in the wooden cage and kisses me softly on the forehead. With a tender smile, she walks towards the door. As she claps her hands, the room magically darkens, and soothing music fills the air. The tranquil melody wraps around me like a warm blanket. This must be some kind of magic or remarkable device, like the floating cog. The music is so calming... I think I could easily drift off to sleep.

The next few days pass with a predictable rhythm: eat, sleep, and repeat. However, during this time, I learn more about my new environment. My mother's name is Elenna, my father's name is Murvin, and I am called North. I can't help but feel that my parents might not have been particularly creative with my name, yet strangely enough, I find that I quite like it.

As the days go by, I gather that my father spends much of his time away due to his work on ships. Elenna wears a proud expression whenever she speaks of him, often saying that when I am older, I will follow in his footsteps. She shares stories about how my father's family has been involved in this line of work for generations, and I can't help but feel curious about the adventures that await me in this new life.