Chains Of Eternity: Awakening

Tristan our Pride

Grace's POV

I sit watching Tristan through my spatial magic — a skill I picked up during my healer days, useful for keeping an eye on team members, and now on my son. Dressed for bed, I tie back my hair as Gavin stumbles in, still faintly tipsy, having just put our daughter Jolt to sleep. Benedict and Sally, our friends, had to rush back to the capital — Benedict now serving in the court, Sally still with the magic tower.

"Is he asleep?" Gavin asks, climbing in beside me.

"He's still at it," I say, watching Tristan pore over his encyclopedia. "I even kissed him goodnight and he didn't notice."

"What did you expect? We were all like this when we first learned about Aether and the cultivation system," Gavin says, kissing my temple.

He's right. I remember my own restless nights before my awakening, obsessed with that same encyclopedia, dreaming of becoming an adventurer. Watching Tristan now, I feel that same wonder reflected back at me. He looks so much like Gavin — the man who made me abandon my adventuring life for this one instead.

"What do you think he'll awaken to?" Gavin asks.

"He'll be a healer, like his mother," I say proudly, though breathing techniques, the foundation of cultivation, were never easy even for me.

I think back to my own awakening: the measure globe glowing green, marking me a healer, my rise to B-class adventurer, courted by top guilds. But nothing compared to holding Tristan for the first time, or hearing him say "Mama" instead of the "Baba" Gavin had hoped for. Then came the walking phase — Tristan the "little monster," breaking plates, testing what could and couldn't be eaten, keeping us both endlessly busy. As he grew older he quieted, growing curious and thoughtful, always asking questions. People called him gifted; to me he was just my light.

When Jolt was born, I found him already curled protectively beside her crib — the big brother, instantly.

Tristan finally shuts his encyclopedia and, noticing his sister isn't in the room, goes to check on her through Grace's spatial reflection. He tucks her blanket in, brushes her hair back, shuts her window, and even ties it down with wire for extra security — an eleven-year-old already playing protector.

Gavin's POV

Watching my son fuss over his sister fills me with pride. Siblings share a bond I understand well — I have my own, though we're estranged. I come from the Garncha family, a house of some renown, but as the black sheep: gifted in blacksmithing but unable to conjure Aether, I could never measure up to my siblings. One of my brothers is apparently a general now. I gave up my birthright, changed my name to Welder, and altered my appearance to cut ties completely. People might say I should have gone back for my family's sake, but I'm content with this simple life — selling swords and household tools, making an honest living, even if it's modest compared to what I left behind.

Looking at Grace in her nightdress, my heart still races the way it did fifteen years ago, when I first saw her buying weapons for her squad — already a local legend, especially among the men chasing her attention. I never thought I had a chance, but I tried anyway.

"Excu... excuse me, miss," I'd stammered, hopelessly nervous. To my shock, she agreed to a date, later telling me she found me good-looking and liked my eyes — brown eyes being rare and supposedly lucky in Widern. After a few dates, I proposed, and she said yes — one of the happiest moments of my life.

Tristan finally falls asleep, visibly tense — his awakening is only three months away. Grace shifts her spatial magic to check on Jolt one more time, then moves to sleep herself, but I catch her hands and pull her close.

"Sorry, but you're too gorgeous tonight," I murmur, kissing her before she can answer. She doesn't resist.

A month later

The front lines have grown more intense, though life at home continues. I step out of my forge, wiping sweat from my brow, and look over our compound — the hillside berry rows Grace tends and sells to the local brewery, the tall jacaranda tree with its purple blossoms, and beneath it, Tristan, absorbed in his encyclopedia as always.

I sit beside him on the cool grass, the mountain breeze a relief after the forge's heat. He leans into me when I ruffle his hair.

"Listen, son, I'm going to be honest with you," I say, as he closes his book to listen. "There's a vast world out there beyond this countryside — different people, even from those in Igdel." I nod toward the distant capital. "In one month, you'll travel to the town with the awakening amplitude globe. No one knows what to expect, so don't go in with big expectations." My tone softens. "Whatever the result is, this will always be your home. And my love for you will never change."

I pull him into a rough hug. He laughs quietly, and the sound eases something in my chest as we sit together beneath the jacaranda, its leaves rustling above us, the mountain wind carrying the moment away.