Drops of black water slide on my diaphanous skin, as my numb fingers dance on the golden edge of the haematite tub. With the tongue I taste my new lips, keeping the eyes still low - I am feeling hazy. Getting customed to a new body is like waking up from a long hibernation, one must be careful with it,  to not violate it: there's no other way to get it to respond in the best way.  The tub empties from the mother liquid and I slowly get up, breathing fully.  A long violet silk robe is waiting for me, with no embroidery, and it soon wraps me up like the caress of a lover.

The firm hands of the elderly woman, the one that gifted me with the new case, sustain my uncertain body, just like a mother does with a child taking their first steps. Her words are encouraging, murmured with a warm and resolute voice, exactly how it's expected from a higher being. The woman, Auspice, tells me to breathe, to forget about the bothersome burning of the lungs opening and getting full for the first time. I follow her guidance, the bodies that hosted me before this one were worn-out, cradles emptied from their primordial essence, used, as someone would say. This one isn't, it's newborn, although in its adult form. It hasn't lived yet, it never got hurt and never loved.

After a few seconds, that seem like an eternity to me, I start taking my first steps. The weight of my body takes its toll on these tiny pale feet, I ask myself how such frail structures can keep all of this up. Used to float from my first memory, free without any mass, I had to learn to my own expenses concepts like balance, strength, and anything that applies to a real body. But this is another story.

Step by step, gaining confidence in every movement, Auspice and I get out from the marvelous room of the black tubs.