Chapter 18: Crawling
With the active help of his parents, Lukas quickly built up a respectable vocabulary.
Single words turned into short sentences. Short sentences turned into complete requests.
"I want water," he would say whenever he felt thirsty, pointing toward the clay jug on the nearby table.
"I want to go outside," he asked, pointing toward the window, the garden, and the sky.
"I’m sleepy," he murmured whenever his eyes grew heavy and his small body demanded rest, usually in the middle of the afternoon after an entire morning of exploration.
"Where is Judite?" he asked one day, looking around after noticing the absence of his younger sister.
Aurora nearly cried with pride.
"She’s in the garden, my love. Playing with the flowers."
"I want to see Judite," Lukas declared, stretching out his little arms.
Aurora carried him to the garden, where Judite jumped between the flowerbeds, randomly picking flowers and placing them in her hair.
"Judite," Lukas called.
The little girl turned around, her face lighting up the moment she saw her brother.
"Lukas! You came to see me!" She ran toward them, holding up a handful of purple flowers.
"Look what I found! They’re pretty, right? Do you want one?"
"Yes," Lukas answered, taking one flower with his tiny hand and holding it carefully, controlling his strength so he wouldn’t crush the fragile petals.
Judite clapped excitedly, radiant with joy.
These simple sentences, so natural for an ordinary child yet so extraordinary for a five-month-old baby, were enough to leave Aurora and Clavor ecstatic. They praised him as if Lukas had performed a miracle every time he opened his mouth to say something new.
"Did you hear that, Clavor? He asked for water! With a complete sentence!"
"He asked where Judite was! He misses his sister!"
"He said ’thank you’ to the cook! Nobody taught him that!"
Internally, Lukas rolled his eyes.
On the outside, he simply smiled his adorable baby smile, and everyone around him melted instantly.
He had a family that protected him. A family that loved him. A family that, despite not knowing the whole truth about him, did everything they could to keep him safe.
That alone was already more than he had for most of his previous life.
...
As the days passed, Lukas gained more freedom of movement.
He was already crawling with impressive skill for his age, not that clumsy baby crawl with the belly dragging on the floor and bruised knees, but a fluid, coordinated movement, almost animalistic in its efficiency.
His monstrous strength helped. He could propel himself forward with his arms far more powerfully than a normal baby.
The crib, however, was still a prison.
He hated the crib. The tall bars, the metal reinforcements Clavor had added after the cracked wood incident, and the feeling of being caged, all of it deeply irritated him.
One day, while Aurora was busy in the kitchen and Clavor trained in the courtyard, Lukas decided to do something about it.
He observed the crib with analytical eyes. The sides were high, yes, but not impossible to climb. He could scale them.
Besides, there was a pillow, large, soft, and fluffy, resting against the railing.
’If I use the pillow to soften the fall...’
He dragged the pillow toward the edge of the crib with minimal effort. Then he pulled it and pushed it over the side, letting it fall onto the floor.
One pull. One push. And he was outside.
He landed on the pillow with a muffled thud, cushioned by the softness.
He got onto all fours and began crawling down the hallway.
The first time Aurora found him crawling through the corridor toward the main hall, she nearly had a heart attack.
"LUKAS!" she shouted, dropping the basket of clothes she had been carrying. The clothes were scattered across the floor, but she didn’t even notice.
She ran toward him, knelt down, and picked him up with trembling hands.
"How did you get out of the crib?! The crib is tall! You could get hurt! You could fall on your head! You could break something!"
Lukas looked at her with innocent violet eyes.
"Pillow," he answered, pointing toward the bedroom.
"Fell on pillow."
Aurora stared at him in shock.
"You... jumped onto the pillow?"
"Yes."
She pressed a hand against her forehead, suddenly dizzy.
Clavor found out shortly afterward. He examined the crib, examined the pillow, and examined the height from the floor. Then he looked at Lukas, who sat in Aurora’s lap with a perfectly innocent expression.
"He’s resourceful," Clavor finally said.
"We’ll have to tie down the pillow."
"Or..." Aurora hesitated.
"Or maybe it’s time to let him out of the crib. He’s already crawling well. And it seems like he won’t stop until he gets what he wants."
Clavor crossed his arms thoughtfully.
"He’s five months old."
"He’s not an ordinary baby, Clavor. You know that."
Clavor sighed.
"Fine. But with rules."
After the third time Lukas escaped from the crib and the second time Aurora found him happily crawling through the main hall while she was busy with other chores, she merely sighed in resignation and knelt in front of him.
The scene repeated itself several times, always following the same ritual.
"Lukas," she said, pointing a finger at him with motherly seriousness, though pride gleamed in her eyes.
"You can move around the house. You can crawl wherever you want, as long as you don’t break anything. But you are forbidden from going outside alone. Do you understand, my love?"
Lukas looked at her with those innocent violet eyes, so innocent they hid the adult mind behind them, and answered with an adorable smile.
"Yes, Mommy."
Aurora melted instantly, kissing his forehead several times and hugging him tightly against her chest.
"What a smart boy... My intelligent baby..."
Hidden within his mother’s embrace, Lukas smiled.
’Phase one. Conquer the house. Complete.’
’Phase two, conquer the outside. That will take a little longer.’
