He sighed. There was nothing that he could do about it now, so there was no point in him worrying about it. He would simply have to research how to remove the curse when he got back on his feet. The first step was finding out where he was.
Waving his arms in front of him, he began to internally chant a song before stopping short as he saw his arms swing into vision. They were stubby, soft and a little plump like a baby's. They were like a baby's... The words went round in his head again and again until he felt like he would burst. He finally realised he had lost everything, his life, his friends, his money, his status. Everything that was Malkam Allass of Arum no longer had any connection to him, simply because now he was this stubby, fleshy baby. It was inconceivable, but he knew he was stuck. He had to come up with a plan.
After racking his brain for what felt like a day, he finally came up with a plan. It was crazy, and risky, but if he did it right then not all of his knowledge from his last life would be useless, even if his arcana did turn out to not be Evocation anymore. The only real issue he was faced with was how to deal with the fact that he was a grandmaster magi stuck in a baby's body. Well, that and how he was hungry.
As he lay on whatever it was he was lying on, a young woman’s face popped into view of him. She smiled and picked him up, carefully making sure that his head was comfortable, before resting it against her breast so he could begin to suckle.
“Come on baby, I know daddy and I haven't named you yet, but you still need to eat”.
So this was his mother. She seemed very young to him, maybe eighteen or nineteen, but she was pretty, full of life and full of hope. As he calmed down, he began to appreciate the simplicity of his life and accept that he was stuck in his situation no matter what. He latched on and began to feed, only then realising how hungry he actually was.
“Wow, you’re really hungry aren’t you?” said his mother. “There we go, little one, have your fill. He’s a hungry one, Gawyn. Have you thought of a name for him yet?”
There was the sound of a door closing behind him, but he did not turn around, his baby form was simply to engrossed in being nourished to care. A deep voice echoed behind him, “I was thinking we could name him after my father, if you didn’t mind of course”.
“It’s a good a name as any. And it’s better than calling the baby ‘you’, or ‘it’. We could name the next one after mine. What do you think, baby? Do you want to be called Malcolm?”
He looked up when he heard the name. He could not help it, it was simply too similar to his own for him to believe that it was just chance. He stared at his mother with wide eyes, and smiled a big toothless grin indicating that he recognised his name. He hoped she would take it that way, but it was hard being a baby.
“Looks like he does, Eevie. He’s a smart little one, isn’t he? Malcolm it is!” Mal felt a hand on his head, it was massive in comparison to him. It was odd, like he was surrounded by giants. Mal thought he would have great difficulty adjusting to the size difference, but he would have to take it in his stride. Until he could work out how to cleanse himself of the curse he would take this new life in its stride. At least he did not have to change his name. Much.
-
The years rolled by, and within what seemed like the blink of an eye Mal was three years old. He had been preparing for how he was going to regain his former glory, but his biggest issue was that he had been an Evoker in his old life. It seemed like his new body was not tuned to the same magical wavelength as his old life, so the bulk of his knowledge was rendered worthless for the time being. He was not disheartened, however. His master in his old life had always said that no matter what the Arcana, no matter whether one was a medicine man or an Evoker like Mal had been, there was always a way to master a major Arcana.
His first step relied upon him discovering his Arcana and his magical strength. They were both important, but the most pressing thing for him was finding out what path he had been given in this life. With two giftless, or at least unwoken parents he had no idea what the best way for him to train would be.
His family was the least surprising thing he had learned about in his short time in his new body. His father was the town watchman, head of a very small group of men who protected the town from wild animal attacks and bandits. They were an auxiliary troop for the Duke’s garrison, back in Ola. His mother was the youngest daughter of the town baker. She believed in hard work and that her little Malcontent was just as smart, if not smarter than any of her siblings, even if he was more stubborn than a mountain.
The thing that surprised and pleased Mal the most was that Regal Cliffs, the village that he was born in, was very close to the Voidland and only a couple of weeks journey away from the Magus Citadels. He was lucky. If it had been further away from somewhere like the Voidland then it would have been hard for him to even begin the journey of a magi. The most important thing for him now was to find materials.
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