Rebirth. Reincarnation. Transmigration.
You can call it whatever you want. These concepts are absurd notions, but some believe in them while others dismiss them. The idea that a soul could live more than once has already divided belief and reason.
Some view it as divine mercy, a chance for a fresh start. Others see it as a cruel trick. Saints write scriptures about it and scholars engage in endless debates over its validity.
Lucien, however was not someone to entertain such ideas. To him, they are all nonsense.Death marked the end of existence.
But fate, it seemed, played a good trick.
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Inside an expansive room adorned with luxury,a scene was unfolding. Ornate pillars lined on the sides of the walls, while tall windows wrapped in shimmeriing purple curtains caught the sunlight beautifully.
The crystal marble floor sparkle with bluish hue under the sun's warm embrace. Above, hung an extravagant chandelier made of thousands of crystals and precious jewels.
Soft violet couches were strategically placed throughout the space, and beautiful paintings adorned the walls. In the center stood a grand bed,the kind of bed that is only reserved for nobility. Where a stunningly beautiful woman was enduring labor.
Her soft golden hair was tousled and matted against her forehead with sweat. Despite her pale complexion,her beauty remained undeniable; in fact, it even added a layer of unnatural beauty to her.
Around the bed, midwives were rushing about, encouraging her to push hard; their faces serious with faint worry in their eyes. It had already been more than ten hours since their Lady went into labor, but so far, there had not been any signs of progress.
Just then, the eyes of every midwife lit up with joy and relief.
"Congratulations, Lady Lyria! A healthy, bouncing baby boy."
The head midwife, a woman in her forties with an amiable expression, smiled gently at the young beautiful woman called Lyria.
Lyria was already completely exhausted as she lay there on the bed, her breathing rough and ragged, her face smeared with sweat.
But she managed to smile."Let me see him."
The midwife passed the baby to Lyria. Lyria gently held the baby like she was holding the most valuable thing in the world; she gazed at her son, her expression so tender it seemed to soften the very air around the bed.
"Why is he not crying?" She asked anxiously looking at her baby; she leaned a bit closer to inspect him more closely, her brows furrowed in worry. She couldn't help but wonder why her little boy was unusually quiet. "Is something wrong?"
The experienced mid wife reassured her calmly,"Don't worry, My Lady. There are instances where infants may not immediately cry after birth." She explained to the young mother, which helped to calm her down.
Just then, the door swung open as a man in exquisite clothes rushed in. He was strikingly handsome, with ruby red eyes and a head flowing crimson hair that caught attention instantly.
"Lyria, are you okay!" The man rushed towards the bedside and held Lyria's hands with deep concern in his eyes.
"Aethon," Lyria said breathlessly while passing their new born son to him." We have a baby boy.He has your eyes and nose."
Aethon's breath caught, as he looked at his son. A slow wondrous smile spread across his face."He looks more like you; he has your hair and your beauty. I'm sure my boy will grow up to be a lady killer."
Lyria smiled but didn't say anything; exhaustion weighed heavily on her. Ten hours in labor had really taken a toll on her.
"Master Aethon, Lady Lyria must rest to regain her energy!" The midwife interjected from the side.
"Are you sure that it's not normal for him not to cry? Will everything be okay?" Lyria asked again; she was really concerned. Her two children she had given birth to, the moment they came out of the womb, cried, but only this one refused to cry.
The midwife maintained her calm demeanor, offering a comforting smile." I assure there is nothing to be worried about. While it's not common,it's not unheard of either."
Reluctantly,Lyria nodded though a hint of worry lingered in her eyes. "Alright. Thank you for your help," she said gratefully, her eyes never leaving the bundle in her arms.
"It is my duty, Lady Lyria," the midwife smiled with a calm demeanor, and with the rest of the midwives, they walked out of the room.
Silence returned to the room as the golden sunlight streamed through the tall, luxurious windows, spilling across the marble floor.
"Aethon, what name should we give to our baby?" Lyria's eyes remained glued to the baby, eyes filled with love and wonder.
"How about you choose?" Aethon suggested after a moment of thought.
Lyria paused briefly before saying, "Let's name him Lucien... yes, Lucien. I want him to grow up lacking nothing; I want him to be a light in this world!"
"Lucien, huh?" Aethon murmured thoughtfully before breaking into a smile. "Lucien Aethon Drayke, I like it. It's perfect for our lineage."
Lyria looked at Aethon with surprise flickering in her tired eyes. "You gave him your grandfather's name. I thought you said the name is only reserved for you. Even Cael didn't get such an honor. Careful or there might be sibling rivalry."
Aethon patted his chest, flashing his white pearly teeth. "If that boy dares to make trouble for my dear Lucien, see how I will break all three of his legs."
Lyria chuckled softly and rolled her beautiful emerald eyes at Aethon.
"I think he deserves the name. My grandfather was a great warrior; my father named me after my him, hoping I'd follow his footsteps, but I fear I've disappointed him.I want our precious son to revive the legacy of Aethon; I want the name to echo throughout the land." Aethon's eyes sparkled with passion as he gazed at their son wrapped snugly white clothes.
Emotion welled up within Lyria as she looked at her husband. She agreed wholeheartedly with his vision, while understanding the heavy responsibilities and expectations that were placed on him when he was given the name.
As if sensing her Lyria thoughts, Aethon glanced at her and said, "Don't worry. I'm not placing heavy responsibilities and expectations on him. I was just kidding earlier."
Just then, the midwife entered the room once again, holding an exquisite bowl full of green shimmering liquid. "Alright, I think she should rest; giving birth clearly drained her," she gently suggested. "Here, Lady Lyria, drink this and rest well."
"Thank you, I'm really tired," Lyria replied appreciatively, accepting the bowl and sipping its contents. As her weariness began to lift, she entrusted the baby to the midwife.
The midwife cradled Lucien with tender care, placing him in an exquisitely and meticulously crafted red and gold crib, adorned with intricate carvings and a majestic canopy.
Aethon brushed Lyria's hair back, his eyes full of love, looking at Lyria, who had already closed her eyes to rest.
Both he and the midwife silently left the room, their footsteps echoing in their wake as they departed.
Meanwhile, young Lucien's eyes were wide open as he grappled with his current existence. "What the hell is going on? Did I just become a baby?"
He was totally confused and bewildered as he pondered over his newfound existence.