Golden Glade The Bastard Royals

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Darkened, heated, congested.

From within the womb he could hear, smell, touch nothing. There were no thoughts that he could think, nor ideas to be formed. Everything that surrounded him was not understood, and would never be remembered, yet he was content. Content with floating in the endless abyss that was his mother’s body, for he could exist in no other world. It was his—and then it wasn’t. Away from him had his space been taken, filled with bodies that were not his own. They pushed, they shoved, they took. From him they stole everything. There existed no longer a place to which he might escape, the passage of time having been accompanied by growth. All around him, so much had occurred, and he was ignorant to it all. Never would the moments prior to his life having begun be remembered, for doing so was an impossible feat; he was okay with that, for he remained as incapable of experiencing emotions of any sort. There was nothing to experience, nothing to feel—and then there was.

Three bodies, three children, two heartbeats.

Gradually, his world had been returned to him, the intruders leaving. They were forced away from him, birthed into a world anew whilst he’d remained within the old. It was to be his home, the place in which he would remain for the entirety of his life, and so he’d been reluctant to leave. The boy fought, he struggled, and then he gave up. Any energy that had been stored away for that specific moment was gone, and so out amongst his siblings had he been cast. The air was cold and the ground hard, his lungs burning and his limbs spasming; there was a struggle. Far too much time had been spent within the womb, and so just as soon as he’d been born, he’d died—nearly. Away from his body had the sac been pulled, allowing the oxygen to enter his lungs for the very first time via a wide-mouthed gasp. Panic set in as a blinding flash of light flickered behind his eyelids, and then he was still.

Silent, warm and comforting, it was as if he’d been returned to the womb. There'd been a great deal of space at first, but promptly had his body been moved to nestle up against two others; one was greater in size, her scent alluring, whilst the other was smaller and not nearly as enticing. Of the two he’d chosen the former, instincts driving him to seek out a teat, onto which he’d clamped down without mercy. Nothing was known, not even the name that he would come to bear, but still was he unable to care. The boy suckled upon his tit of choice, achieving his fill before finding a greater comfort in the mystery that was sleep.

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