Human, At Least (1) (Patreon)

A/N: Oh, I like this idea. I've taken inspiration from Mushoku Tensei, in fact you'll probably see many similar elements going forward. This story will follow the adventures of Dorian in a fantasy world where strength constitues your status in society. Also, just as a heads up, this story will contain eventually contain explicit scenes and in**** (mother/aunt/?). You've been warned.

Breathing… it was so loud, so rattling.

So painful.

Each rasp was a reminder of life slipping away.

Here I lay, bedridden, cocooned in the sterile hush of a room that reeked of antiseptic. I hated it. My once sturdy frame was now a skeletal silhouette against the crisp white sheets. I fucking hated it.

The journey from vitality to fragility had been a gradual descent, exacerbated only by the clinical list of ailments that afflicted my aging body. I dreamed of my past youth—of failed opportunities, words left unspoken, and words I wish I could take back.

Ah, the bitter, nauseating regret.

Painful. It wasn't a dull ache or a passing discomfort; it was a relentless, gnawing agony that had become an unwelcome companion in my final days.

My once-strong hands, now reduced to shriveled tendrils, rested motionless on the starched sheets.

‘God… give me strength, or take it all away already. Don’t leave me like this.’

How I wished someone would just smother a pillow on my face. The slow collapse of my lungs was exactly that, slow. The end was within sight, but getting there was like a runner on his last legs, pushing himself to walk to the finishing line.

Perhaps it was some form of divine punishment. ‘You’ve been an asshole, now you’re going to die like one.’ Come on. I was just a human. Flawed. Self-serving. And just as capable of redemption.

Should I have tried harder?

Should I have said sorry to my father?

Should I have not given up on Eleanor?

The last one hurt the most, knowing that she ended up in someone else’s arms. Funny how love works. I was the one that left her, yet I was the one who couldn’t forget her. I’d strip himself of my pride in a heartbeat if it meant rewinding the tape to that day and changing the script.

How many apologies did I owe to my friends?

It wasn’t until I stopped pursuing glory that I realized what I was trading it all for. A life of solitude. Wealth stained with the tears of my first love.

“You’re not the only one who comes to that realization moments before death. Personally, I find it quite adorable how humans are quick to shed their masks and change.”

My eyes widened in surprise. No one had been there with me, and I’d been awake for a while.

The voice was ethereal and feathery, as if coming from all directions. Beautiful, no doubt—as beautiful as one might expect something nonhuman might sound. I struggled to pinpoint the location of this elusive speaker, not even caring whether it was a burglar, a murderer, or the devil himself.

It didn’t seem necessary, however, as the presence made itself known in a corner of my room, casually sitting on a chair. The moonlight barely touched that spot, partially revealing that the speaker wasn’t either of the nurses that attended me.

Red slitted eyes stared at me.

Long black hair fell over pale shoulders.

And two massive, curved, and pointed horns jutting from the sides of her head. Just like her voice, she was beautiful. But maybe I was projecting. Maybe it was normal for demons to show themselves in a form that appealed to humans the most.

“You’ve got a lot on your mind, but I’m glad you’re not freaking out.”

“Are… you… the… devil…?”

Breathing was painful, speaking more so. Ah, but it was my first conversation in a while. Honestly, I was a bit nervous.

“Hah!” She giggled, and I wondered if it wasn’t the first time someone compared her to the biblical angel himself—the origin of all sin. “No, no, no. I can understand how you came to that insulting conclusion, but I’m not any of the Gods you might believe in.”

I had to choose my questions carefully, as it seemed she was willing to entertain them. A waste of words was a waste of breath, and an even bigger waste of the limited time I still had.

“What… are… you… then…”

She uncrossed her legs, stood up, and approached me. She didn’t make a sound. As elegant and as quiet as the wind. Under the moonlight, this creature was even more stunning.

“Chaos. The mother of unpredictability. The end of all order.”

She whispered.

Every time I blinked my eyes, she appeared a little closer to me, until she was right beside me. Chaos—was that her name or a sobriquet? It didn’t seem relevant at the moment, but my brain finally felt a bit more alive in her presence.

I might’ve been speaking to a hallucination for all I cared. It didn’t matter.

I wanted to enjoy it for as long as it would last.

“Why… are you… here…” I wheezed, wincing as I did so.

Chaos bent down a little. “For you, of course.” Usually, when someone spoke, the sound waves would reach one ear first. In her case, however, it echoed off right inside my head. “Didn’t you desperately wish for someone to put an end to your miserable life?”

“Yes…”

I quickly replied, smiling as I did so. It was the anticipation of eternal rest. A lull I’d never wake up from.

“Really? Don’t you wish to live longer? I can take all the pain away. I can rejuvenate you to the earliest stages of your life.” This time she leaned down to speak right into my ear. “I can give you strength.”

I laughed. Surprising. I hadn’t laughed in years.

“What… would… it cost…”

She smiled. Teeth as white as the purest of pearls. She had fangs as well. They didn’t look as dangerous as they looked beautiful.

“What can you offer me?”

‘Nothing that you probably already don’t have.’

“My… self…”

She tilted her head, an action too cute to fit the supposedly bringer of chaos. A smile flashed across her face. “And what makes you think I can’t take you by force.”

“You…” I breathed in and out. “... wouldn’t… be asking… otherwise…”

Her smile widened.

“Perhaps I was just humoring you.”

“In that… case… you’re free… to do… as you… wish… to me.”

‘I’m dying anyway.’

Death—I’d face it alone. I had resigned myself long ago.

“I strive to disrupt the balance.” Chaos gently caressed the side of my wrinkled cheek with a sharp, black nail. It tingled. It burned. “It’s a tiring, unpaid job. I guess it’s time to hire a secretary. Take the calls for me. Bring more chaos for me.”

“...”

My chest started to constrict. The oxygen I had been raking in with each breath was nowhere to be found. It felt as if someone was clawing the inside of my chest.

Chaos inched closer, so close that her lips were almost touching mine. She unhinged her maw, and a black, rippling miasma billowed out like the acrid smoke of a fire.

The toxic tendrils, with a life of their own, found their way inside my mouth, eyes, and ears. The pain started to fade. The comfort of sleep beckoned me. And it was finally time to give myself to that urge.

“Humans, after all, are really good at that, aren’t they?”

••••

•••

••

•

I felt myself emerging from a deep abyss.

Someone was holding me tightly, a constricting, stuffy grip into a bosom.

Disoriented, I tried to move, only to be met with resistance. I’d been weak and bedridden for years, it was only natural that I couldn’t move. However, this was different.

A rough restraint of some sort was enveloped around me. Surprisingly, it was warm. Not nearly as suffocating as you’d think it would be. A gentle coo rang in my ears.

My eyes fluttered open.

A soft scent crept into my nose as I was tenderly rocked back and forth.

Overhead, the curtain of hair parted. Red eyes, the shade of roses, beheld me with a gentleness that I could only liken to that of a mother. She opened her mouth, and a lullaby softly flowed out.

“Hush now, my child, beneath the moon's soft glow,”

“In the castle's shadow, where the cold winds blow,”

“Though sorrow surrounds us like a shroud of mist,”

“In your dreams, my sweet, find the solace you've missed,”

I was transfixed. Confused. Uncertain. Relaxed.

When was the last time I felt so free of burden? When I was a child? So carefree and happy. It was almost addicting—and I would have deliberately allowed this addiction to grow if I hadn’t died just moments prior.

This giant, beautiful face singing to me…

Who was she?

It couldn’t have been Chaos. Same eyes. Same hair. Yet that kindness couldn’t have come out of that woman. Maybe it was a dream. Maybe it was all a hallucination. Maybe I was now in some type of personal hell.

“The sky whispers tales of days long past,”

“Of a love that faded, too fleeting, too fast,”

“A knight once bold, with a heart pure and true,”

“Now lies 'neath the stones, where the roses once grew.”

She smiled at me, eyes heavy-lidded, as she leaned forward to plant a kiss on my head.

“Hush now, my child, beneath the moon's soft glow.”

My eyes, much to my resistance, grew bleary. Despite being aware of my own thoughts, I almost… didn’t feel in control of my own body.

“Shh. Shh. Go to sleep, Dorian.”

I didn’t want to. Dorian? Who… was… that—

••••

•••

••

•

It was hard staying awake. I slept for most of the day, intermittently waking up only to be fed. The whole ordeal was as embarrassing as it was necessary—since, well, turns out I was a newborn.

And I also managed to find out who this elusive Dorian was. Myself.

‘Chaos, is this her doing?’

At the beginning, I didn’t actually think any of it was real. I was close to death. For all I knew, my ailed mind could have conjured that weird interaction and the events following after. Some part of me still thought it was all a lucid dream.

But after seven sleep cycles, I now fully believed it to be real.

The bigger problem was that I couldn’t understand whether I was in a different reality or in the past. I didn't question the power of a being like Chaos, but I stood firmly rooted in logic that those phenomena were not possible.

From the brief instances Elysia took me around the house, I saw flashes of old furniture, oil lamps, chests and trunks, all of them crudely crafted. Even the clothes they wore were a far cry from the more modern textiles I was used to.

“Dear… he isn’t crying.” My mother, whose name was Elysia—I came to find out—spoke with motherly concern.

God, she was so young. How old could have she been? 16? The innocence and immaturity had yet to fade from her face.

Next to her stood a handsome young man, equally as young, looking quite unsure and nervous. My father—Lucian. “That’s… That’s not normal, is it? Aurora told me that babies cry a lot. C-Could it be that he’s—”

“—He’s not cursed.” Elysia held me tighter to her bosom. “He’d have shown signs if he was.”

Lucian ran a hand through his messy, black hair, making even more of a mess.

“Maybe… Maybe he’s just a little special?”

‘They’re making it sound as if I’m retarded. Then again, I understand how a quiet baby could be cause of concern.’

Regardless, I had no reason, nor the motivation, to act like a true baby. Peeing and pooping were outside my control, unfortunately, but I didn’t wish to be a burden by waking them up in the middle of the night.

Elysia, the angel that she was, quickly defended my dignity. “I don’t think so, at all. He makes it obvious when he’s hungry or needs to be changed.” She scoffed at her husband before she turned to smile at me. “Maybe it’s Aurora’s kids who are little beasts. My Dorian is a sweet, beautiful angel.”

And then Elysia proceeded to lean down, her rich, chestnut hair falling all over me, before she firmly planted her lips on my forehead. The kiss lingered for a bit before she pulled away, a peaceful smile plastered on her face.

I sighed, mentally—mind you. It was highly embarrassing being coddled and taken care of by a girl not even half my age. ‘Thankfully, this is all temporary.’

Lucian heaved a deep sigh. Whether of resignation or ignorance, I knew not. But I was glad he didn’t seem to hold some prejudice for quiet babies. He silently walked next to Elysia, a more compromising smile on his face. “You’re right, dear. I-I’m sorry… I was just worried.”

Elysia rolled her eyes at him. “You worry too much. It’s our first time being parents. It’s not going to be perfect, but we have to try our best. Regardless whether our Dorian is blessed or cursed. We’ll still love him.”

“Absolutely.” He nodded.

‘Well, he’s trying. It’s not like I’ve been a parent in my previous life… I wonder what it feels like.’

I should throw a bone at him—to ease his concerns.

I strugglingly lifted my tiny hand in his direction, chubby little fingers reaching for him.

A flash of wonder crossed Lucian’s face, before a wide smile broke out.

He extended a finger, and I seized it with all the strength I could muster.

“My little warrior… so strong already.” He chortled. “He’s going to follow in my footsteps. I’m sure.”

“Oh, shush. Let him decide for himself.”

“Hey, being a village guard is a well-paying job!”

“And a dangerous one!” Elysia rebutted. “I don’t want my child to have to risk his life. It’s already bad enough that you do it.” It was not the first time they had this discussion, I could see it.

Despite my limited, baby-vision, I could still make out the faint outline of gnarly scars on Lucian’s face and exposed arms. Medals of war, for him. Elysia saw them as reminders of how close to death her husband had been.

“I know…” Lucian whispered, meaning it. Elysia’s frown softened. “But you know what happened to the Silverwood Village all those years ago, dear. I want our son to face the perils out there with a steady hand and an unwavering sword. Let it be known that he’s Lucian’s son, and he’ll take my place when one day I won’t make it back.”

‘That turned out depressing too fast.’

“Don’t say that…” Tears welled up in Elysia’s eyes. “Fool.”

A helpless smile tugged Lucian’s lips. He gently placed a hand on my head as he leaned down to linger a chaste kiss on Elysia’s brow.

‘But… if the situation is truly as he says…’

I couldn’t help but think over my previous, bedridden self. Shriveled like a fruit, left to rot. No one to cry for me. The situation was different now—I could change things.

‘I’ll make sure I have no regrets this time.’

If not for myself, then for those around me.

This, after all, was my shot at redemption.