Seven's eyes fluttered open.
He found himself submerged in a paradise of impossible vibrance, looking like a primordial wilderness like this scene had been plucked from the first pages of Genesis.
"Sleep now, goodnight, the stars above shine bright~"
A soft melody drifted through the air.
"O'er the lilies pale, lies, my dear little child tonight~"
A face bloomed in his vision.
A woman, or perhaps an angel; in the haze of paradise, he couldn't be sure. But her eyes shone like indigo stars, framed by tresses the color of melted chocolate.
"No thorn shall ever prick, and no shadow shall ever stay~"
She held him close to her chest.
"For you are home within the stillness of your mother's soft embrace~ Ah! My child is so adorable. Let Mother steal a little nibble from those cheeks."
'Eh?! Mother…?'
Seven tried to reach out.
To his mounting surprise, the hands that entered his field of vision were tiny and clumsy hands, fumbling cutely to resist the coming face.
After seeing her child's weak little resistance, the mother pressed her nose gently against his tiny palms, her tresses fell like a silken curtain on his body.
'Hold on…! Where am I?'
He tried to move, but he realized had no control over the infant's body— a situation where his mind and consciousness is inside the infant's body.
This couldn't be a reincarnation, as he had already transmigrated, but he might have died as Seven Hart thus being reincarnated again had a possibility.
'Damn it. This doesn't make any sense. This couldn't be a dream of Mom either. She was a world-class model in her prime, but her beauty was not this ethereal.'
Before he could think deeper—
"Tickle, tickle!"
A girl, no older than nine, leaned over him and wiggled her fingers against his ribs.
Her eyes were ocean-blue in color, sparkling with the luster of deep-sea shells, and her platinum-white hair was pulled back in a neat tie.
'Who is this? Wait. Those features…'
"Uwaa— uwaaah!"
Tears pooled in his vision and blurred the world into a kaleidoscope of gold and blue, the cry loud and jarring even in his own ears.
The mother swayed him in her arms.
"Be gentle now, Eden. Do not tease your little brother so."
"But mother, I can't help it!"
For a second, Eden pouted… then her eyes lit up.
"Mother, mother! I've made up my mind. I have decided!"
"Hm? And what could it be, my dear Eden?"
"This!"
Eden reached for the silver necklace on her collarbone, unfastened the latch, and draped the cool metal across Seven's chest.
The moment the pendant touched his skin, his crying ceased and his tiny arms instinctively curled around it. A soft and bubbly giggle escaped his lips.
Eden smiled.
"I will become stronger and stronger. Even more so than Father! In that way, I can always protect this precious little brother of mine."
Eden reached down to give the cute and chubby cheeks a light pinch.
The mother let out a chuckle.
"A bold vow, indeed. But your father is the realm's peerless blade, and the strongest knight to walk the continent. That is a mountain of a dream to climb, my dear Eden. Are you truly certain?"
"I promise."
"Very well. A promise kept by the stars."
The mother smiled.
"But first, keep this in your own possession. If you truly wish to gift such a treasure to your little brother, you must first possess the strength to hold its weight."
"Yes, mother! I'll keep it safe until my little brother's ceremony."
"Good."
The mother then adjusted her hold on the infant, tilting him so his gaze met Eden's gaze.
"Now, now. Look closely at these precious eyes, dear. Can you see the way the light catches within them? I believe he, too, is already beginning to dream of his own destiny."
Truth is, the infant was now sleepy.
Seven could feel the numbness creeping in, a weight that even his mind couldn't fight.
In his life as Seojin, there were no memories of his mother's embrace.
He had been told he was born in the middle of a photoshoot, a child of flashing lights and cold cameras. The only proof of his birth was a single photograph in his room, his mother who was posing while pregnant.
But this... this was different.
To feel this radiant, genuine "mother's love" even in the world of a novel…
"La~ la~ la~ la~ la~ la~ la~!"
The mother swayed him gently once again, his vision dissolving into a brilliant white like he was being wrapped in the wings of an angel.
Then, the infant's body had finally fallen asleep!
However, his mind could still think clearly. Having nothing else to do, he just repeated the lullaby in his thoughts. The tempo brings a strange calmness.
"Sleep now, goodnight, the stars above shine bright~"
Little did he know that he was singing those words aloud all this time.
"O'er the lilies pale, lies, my…"
His eyes snapped open.
The primordial garden was gone. Instead, he found himself back in his own room.
Beside him stood Iria. Her hands were still bathed in a faint glow of magic, her mouth slightly agape in a rare moment of lost composure.
Iria cleared her throat.
"Ah. I heard absolutely nothing, my lord."
"...?!"
'Didn't hear a thing, yeah right. She definitely heard every word.'
For a man who had never touched a karaoke microphone in his past life to be caught humming a lullaby… he felt his cheeks heat up.
He sighed, trying to regain some dignity.
"Don't mind that. How long have I been out?"
"Two days, my lord. Today is the 9th day of Bruma."
"Two days…"
Seven checked his chest, finding no scars or marks left by that gaping hole from both the sharp twig by the imp and Lythian's iron sword.
For that kind of wound to heal in 48 hours…
"Iria. What about my wounds?"
"Pardon?"
"I know you're a competent healer, but there are limitations an ascendant mage could do. You couldn't have possibly restored the gaping hole on my chest that broke through my organs."
"Ah. I apologize for my words, my lord, but it seems like you are not fully awake. I cannot recall you having that hole you mentioned when you were lying at Lady Eden's lap."
"...Lap?"
"Yes. Lady Eden hummed you a lullaby as you slept."
"That's—"
The cast of spell finished.
It wasn't the spell that heals wounds, but one to keep the cold away— that same barrier-like magic. It was essential, especially now that Boreas, the Deity of the month, blew colder winds as day passes.
Seven's thoughts raced
'Eden…'
Back when he believed "it should do until she arrives," he was referring to his Eden. Still, he needed to keep his act.
"Sister…? Where is she?"
"That, I do not know, my lord. Lady Eden left shortly after she handed you to me and sir Heinrich."
Iria walked and picked up a bucket of water and a towel beside the desk, only then did Seven notice he was still shirtless beneath the blanket.
Looking down, at least he had an underwear on.
"Please rest for a little while, my lord. I shall return with breakfast in a few minutes."
Creak!
The door shut behind Iria.
Now alone in his room, Seven laid back down onto the mattress as a small smile tugged at his lips, turning into a smirk, into a wide grin, until he couldn't hold back a giggle, into a subtle laughter that made his shoulders trembled, until again he threw both his arms and legs up and shouted.
"Fudgeeee!!"
The sound rang out too loud.
He covered his mouth and looked at the door, half-expecting Iria to burst back in but didn't.
He laughed again, softer this time, pressing a hand over his mouth like a child trying not to get caught.
Staring at the ceiling, he realized this was the kind of moment readers talked about surviving death flags, and it felt good! He turned onto his side and buried his face into the pillow.
But…
If he lived…
Then what would she become instead?
In the novel, his death was meant to be a stepping stone for Eden that pushed her forward the story. If that stepping stone was missing, then Eden's path would no longer slope the same way.
'Did that mean I changed one of the novel's core pillars?'
To put it simply, him surviving the death flag would definitely create a major butterfly effect, and Eden might never become the protagonist's companion at all.
Standing up, he took the list he had written and hid under the mattress. It was still folded in the same way, nothing had changed in the content written on it.
But there is a huge possibility that some of those written here would no longer take place.
"Damn it…"
After all, this wasn't a heroic divergence, nor it was a power fantasy where the world conveniently adjusted around him, but a narrative inertia where every change rippled outward.
"If that's the case, then I should make it work."
From this point onward, whether Eden walked beside the protagonist or never met him at all, would depend, in part, on what Seven chose to do next.
He still has about a year before the appearance of the protagonist, and so all his next choices might make up for this consequence.
Hiding the parchment back below the mattress, he walked towards the window.
For some reason, his body felt lighter and stronger, the sensation didn't match his frail frame. Perhaps it was only his mind playing tricks on him after two days of unconsciousness.
He picked up the pen to scribble X on the 7th, 8th, and 9th day of the month.
Crack!
The pen snapped between his fingers, showing that his body definitely got stronger.
More than that, the main reason was the door of his room. The wooden panel had been patched, but the mark remained— a clean puncture where a sword pierced through that day, with a heart hanging on its tip.
"That's right. I need to go and see the knights."