Free Web NovelChapter 396: Chapter 86: The Ancients of Old All Lived a Hundred Years
And now, that name would be carried by the bloodline into a third generation.
Aurora was already sitting beside Alina, quietly asking about her recent diet and daily habits, and reminding her of all the things she needed to be careful about. Her face was radiant with love and joy.
Kaiden struggled to compose himself, but his wide grin and shining eyes betrayed his overwhelming excitement.
He carefully supported Alina as if she were a fragile treasure, his voice trembling noticeably. "Father, Mother... This... this is wonderful. I... I..."
Murphy watched his eldest son fumbling for words, a faint smile gracing his eyes. "Kaiden, compose yourself. You’re going to be a father."
Those words made Kaiden take a deep breath. He nodded firmly. "Yes, Father. I will."
The living room then became a sea of joy and concern.
Aurora sent a servant for warm water and soothing essential oils, then instructed the kitchen to prepare a light, easily digestible late-night meal.
She held Alina’s hand, murmuring about all the little things to be mindful of during the early stages of pregnancy. The advice came from her own experience, as well as from the stories of the many mothers in their territory over the years.
Kaiden listened intently from the side, occasionally interjecting with a question, his expression as focused as if he were listening to a critical battle report.
Eleanor watched the heartwarming scene unfold, her heart filling with pure joy.
Kaiden’s excitement, Alina’s shy happiness, the gentle light in her mother’s eyes, and her father’s quiet, yet unconcealable, contentment... This was family at its most beautiful.
Yet, at almost the same moment, other images surfaced in her mind, unbidden.
The children with vacant eyes standing before the ruins. The refugees clutching their last scraps of food, stumbling through the cold wind toward an unknown wilderness. The burned-down mills and cries of despair.
The warmth and tranquility that filled this living room felt a world apart from the land outside, a land being devoured by chaos and suffering.
This subtle dissonance left her in a daze, and she found herself walking to the window, as if hoping the cool moonlight would help her thoughts settle.
As time passed, she noticed that her father, at some point, had also wheeled himself over to another window. He tilted his head back slightly, gazing intently at the full moon in the night sky.
In the moonlight, his profile looked serene and profound, as if he had merged with the cold, brilliant glow from outside.
Eleanor’s heart stirred. She walked over and asked softly, "Father, what are you looking at?"
Murphy’s gaze remained fixed on the moon. "I’m looking at it... Tell me, why does the moon wax and wane?"
Eleanor was taken aback.
Not because the question was difficult, but because it seemed overly simple. She followed her father’s gaze to the bright, round disk in the sky, thought for a moment, and explained using the knowledge she possessed:
"According to the teachings of astrology, the changes in the moon’s phases are rooted in the cyclical fluctuations of the Shadow Veil."
"The moon we see isn’t a physical celestial body in the conventional sense. It’s more of a natural lens and a point of convergence for Energy between our world and the Shadow Realm. When the tides of Origin Magic Power from the Shadow Realm are high, the flow of Energy that pierces the veil is at its peak. That’s when this lens refracts the most complete and brilliant light, creating a full moon."
"Conversely, when the tides recede and the flow of Energy weakens, its light naturally diminishes, sometimes even becoming obscured by the veil’s own shadow, appearing as a crescent or new moon."
"Its cyclical waxing and waning is, in essence, a reflection of the grand, invisible rhythm of Energy that underpins the world. It is the manifestation of Magic Power’s own breath upon the canvas of the sky."
When she finished, she looked to her father, awaiting his response.
Murphy smiled. "Perhaps."
’Celestial mechanics...’
’The principles of tides...’
’Twenty-four hours...’
’The changing of the seasons...’
’The varying lengths of day and night by latitude...’
’This world is such a paradox.’
’Even the suffering in this land, the greed and struggles of the human heart, the rise and fall of order, the endlessly repeating tragedies and faint glimmers of hope...’
’It all has a disorienting familiarity.’
"Eleanor," Murphy turned his head, his gaze shifting from the distant moon to his daughter’s face. "Remember this. No matter what you choose to do, no matter where you go, what you see, or what you encounter... the Monte Territory, and I, will be here."
He paused, his tone as steady as if he were stating a fact as natural as the cycle of the sun and moon.
"So, go do what you believe is right. I will always support you."
A tremor ran through Eleanor.
She looked into her father’s serene eyes. In them, she saw the reflection of the moon, and of herself.
A hot surge of emotion rushed to her eyes, but she fought it back.
She said nothing, only giving a firm nod. In the moonlight, her dark eyes seemed exceptionally bright.
Just then, Aurora’s gentle voice called from the living room. "Eleanor, you two should come back inside. The mulled wine is ready. I added plenty of honey, so Alina can have a little to warm herself up. Let’s enjoy the rest of the festival together as a family."
Murphy and Eleanor turned their heads at the same time.
Aurora stood in the doorway, her golden hair, tied in a bun, catching the warm light from the living room. A soft smile graced her lips as her gaze drifted between the father and daughter.
"We’re coming, Mother," Eleanor answered softly.
Murphy gave a slight nod and turned his wheelchair around.
The father and daughter returned to the living room. On the low table before the fireplace, several steaming mugs had been set out. They were filled with a deep, ruby-red liquid that gave off the rich aroma of wine and the sweet scent of honey.
