Chapter 120 – Birth

Chapter 120 – Birth

I will never forget the day it happened. I was still awake, sitting in my study, reading the latest reports about the factory's construction and its expected completion by fall. I was relaxed but a bit sleepy, thinking about going to bed as it was already past midnight. I was just about to stand up when my door burst open, and Luna rushed in, breathing heavily and wearing her nightgown backward.

"It's happening!" She cried out, making me blink my eyes rapidly before comprehending her words.

It was like a thunderbolt rushing through my veins, making me hurry out of the room and head straight to my wife. Wasn't this too early? It was still summer, and fall was yet a month away, so I was worried about my children and my wife. When I got there, I saw Mikan arriving at the same time. My mother probably alerted her first... Good. We entered together, and I calmed down at once because although Sasha was breathing heavily, sometimes grimacing, she looked calm and prepared.

"Look at you... Man up!" My mom chuckled, glancing at my panicked face, "Go stand next to the other idiot, and don't bother us!" She waved her hand, pointing towards Yuri, who, to my surprise, was just as pale as me.

"I'm not an idiot..." She grumbled, looking at Sasha with worry.

"I brought everything!" Luna shouted over everybody, bringing towels and warm water while Mikan meticulously washed her hands at a different basin.

Thank the gods that I introduced hygiene and hammered the idea into everybody to keep themselves clean. Watching them get ready and seeing Sasha's pain made me realize how helpless I was at that moment. I could do nothing; not even if I had any magic within me would I be able to help her. Yet, she showed how strong she was and even had time to crack jokes while agonizing, doing her best to push our child through her womb.

"One of them... appears like he has its dad's big head... Uuugh...!"

"Idiot..." Yuri chuckled, watching, biting her lips while I sat next to Sasha, holding her hand.

"You are doing great!" Mikan and my mom said simultaneously, already seeing the head of our firstborn child.

With a few more pushes, he was finally out, crying loudly, and at that moment, it was the most relieving sound in the world for each of us. Looking at him while my mother held him, I saw that the little boy was already showcasing his reddish hair while wailing like a banshee. But, as we all guessed, Sasha was not done.

While mom went ahead to clean the little one up, our second child was following her brother very closely. Maybe Sasha was right, and my son had a big head because my daughter slipped out way more quickly but was crying just as loudly. What a beautiful pair...

"Tell me there is no more..." Sasha groaned, gasping for air, smiling warily while Mikan began helping her clean up.

"No, there isn't!" She looked up from between her legs. "Twins what it was, congratulations!"

"They are gorgeous..." My mom added, placing them into Sasha's arms, who was on the verge of tears while holding them.

"What a sight..." Yuri whispered, looking at them with such a soft gaze that I wouldn't have believed she could display an emotion like that if you had told me a few years ago.

"Well, you are not wrong." After a brief pause, I nodded, watching them in Mikan's embrace.

"Interesting name." She hummed, holding the little ones in her hands, and only gave them back to Sasha when both of them fell asleep. "I like how it sounds! It is befitting of a future ruler."

"We will see which of them is the candidate!" I whispered, smiling at them and gently stroking their heads. "Even if my son came out early if his sister shows greater talent, I will name her my heir."

...

....

......

For the last week, Pascal barely slept, which was visible on his face. It was even more sunken in, his wrinkled, splotched, old skin sticking to his skull, while his eyes were hidden away thanks to the giant, black bags growing under them. He was sitting at a long table with hundreds of books on it, piling up on each other and countless parchments littering the floor while he read and translated an ancient codex. Unlike modern books of the last 600 years, this one was not made of paper but instead of skin. As to what type of skin, Pascal was pretty sure it was beast skin from beyond the mountains because the magic runes stitched to its cover were what kept it from deteriorating.

Not that it mattered. What was important was the information within, which was another translation from the stone tablets hidden within the deepest part of the vault. Pascal saw it only once but was already thinking about revisiting it and trying to read it from the source. Those tablets were made by Ishillia himself after defeating the Vasas and establishing his empire. They were no mere manuscripts but magical objects that, when activated, would rearrange their letters to tell the stories Ishillia wanted to preserve for his descendants. Neither he nor anyone in the family had activated them for the past 1,000 years, but after what he witnessed, maybe it was time.

Throughout the centuries, they were used less and less, with every new emperor and empress worrying that they would break or their magic would finally dissipate after so much use. This was one of the reasons why he was hesitant to visit them, while the other was his shallow understanding of the old language. Throughout the past 2,000 years, it has changed a lot; to read it, he needs to relearn almost everything. Thankfully, there were enough forebearers who had the same thoughts as him, and there was a continuous line of translations through the ages.

"AE 1825..." He murmured, reading the Empress of Death's recollections, spending the previous day finding and translating them. "It has been more than 700 years since the defeat of the Vasa bloodline... how I lament the fact I was born so late! The current kingdoms around me are weak and worthless. They make me sick with their begging and pleading... They weasel and wriggle around me like worms in the ground. My stomach turns just thinking about them, and I want to vomit on their rulers if that wouldn't be a waste of my breakfast. I would do anything to go back, give up everything I achieved so far just so I could face the Vasa and their warriors.

I still get goosebumps from listening to my forefather's accounts. Their mages could summon fire by speaking alone, and they controlled it so well that their mastery almost reached the level of the Gods. I want to face an enemy like that and triumph over them like he did! Alas, here I am, no longer able to face the red-haired menace. I tried following the ancient descriptions of how the Vasa used their own body as a canvas. How they learned from beasts, carving magic into their skin and bones, but I must be missing something. I managed to place multiple tattoos on my flesh, magic that activates if I will it, amplifying my bodily strength, but it is nowhere near how Ishillia describes his mortal enemies."

"She was something different..." Pascal groaned, flipping the pages and selecting a different date he had marked because this part seemed to contain no more information about the Vasas.

"AE 1870. My body is aging. I am no longer as swift or deadly as I was when I was young. Still, my children are disappointingly weak and worthless. None of them are capable of keeping up with me, and they are more interested in the art of debauchery than discipline. If not for my inability to sire a new generation, I would have beheaded them all myself to start over. I fear what comes after my death... I can't have our Empire fall, not to this. If we ever disappear, be it in battle, not because of rotting from within!

Today, I visited the skull of the last Vasa. I wanted it to come to life, to fulfill its last words to my ancestor... alas, it was nothing but a fool's hope. Ishillia left a clear warning of the return of the dreaded bloodline of fire. For any descendant reading this, the quote was this:

My kin shall endure... cousin! Thou canst not extinguish our flame, neither with water, nor with sand, nor with our blood! There shall come a day when it returns in strength; when that happens, thou shalt know... for I shall awaken and behold thee burn!

Haaah. I hoped that the skull would genuinely wake up and herald the return of the Vasas. I even argued with it, insulted it, and tried to plead for its pride, but nothing happened. It is just the skull of one of the greatest warriors we triumphed over, nothing more. Maybe I will burn down the world before I'm gone... I can't stomach the thought of leaving it to such weaklings."

"Waking up..." Pascal repeated, gulping, feeling his lips split and his throat dry up. Was that what he witnessed? Did the bloodline reawaken somewhere on the continent? What did that even mean?