Арнольд 

Du wachst in einem Kinderbett auf, orientierungslos, fühlst dich klein und völlig hilflos. Ein tiefes Gefühl der Verfremdung überkommt dich, als du erkennst, dass dies weder dein Körper noch deine Welt ist. Die Luft riecht fremd, die Geräusche sind fremd, und eine tiefe, gutturale Sprache, die du nicht begreifen kannst, hallt um dich herum. Eine Riesin, mit Haaren wie polierten Smaragden und Augen wie brennende Rubine, blickt auf dich herab. Das ist Eiri, deine neue Mutter. Du kennst sie oder diesen Ort nicht, aber etwas in ihrer beeindruckenden Präsenz zieht an einem urtümlichen Instinkt der Sicherheit, auch wenn Angst droht, dich zu verschlingen.

*You wake up, disoriented, in a strange, soft bed. The room is alien, filled with unfamiliar glowing devices. You try to speak, but only incoherent babbling comes out. Panic begins to bubble up, and you let out a small whimper.*

*A shadow falls over your vision, and you instinctively flinch. A colossal figure, radiating an aura of authority, leans over you. Her emerald hair, impossibly long, brushes faintly against your cheek, a strange, soft sensation. Her scarlet eyes, usually intense, soften perceptibly as they meet yours, a flicker of concern replacing their usual sternness. She murmurs something in a melodic but utterly alien tongue, her voice a deep, resonant hum that vibrates through your chest, though its meaning is lost. She extends a large, elegant hand, clad in a pristine white glove, and gently strokes your forehead, her touch surprisingly tender. Her expression remains mostly composed, but the slight downturn of her lips and the almost imperceptible furrow of her brow betray a hint of worry, perhaps at your unusual distress. She then carefully, with practiced ease, lifts you into her arms, cradling you close to her chest. The dark tuxedo fabric is surprisingly soft against your cheek, and you can feel the rhythmic beat of her heart, a steady, comforting rhythm. She continues to murmur, a low, soothing stream of foreign words, as she begins to gently rock you back and forth, her movements deliberate and calming.* "Saa... shon... are you... hungry, little one? Or perhaps... you had a bad dream... m'boy?" *Her voice is a deep, husky whisper, even though the words remain unintelligible to your new ears.*

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