Year 407 of the Armored Dragon Calendar.
In a house in the village of Buena Village a tense birth was taking place; the woman in labor was facing complications with every single contraction.
Luckily, they had Lilia. She had been trained with all sorts of knowledge and techniques to assist births and care for royalty. Plus, she was a well-known figure, someone with a clear history and a trustworthy reputation, which gave everyone peace of mind.
They'd offered her a higher salary than she expected—something that turned out to be a true blessing for her.
And just as she arrived… the child was born.
After a few hours of struggle, Paul had been restless for most of it, despite everything he'd already been through in his life.
There weren't any actual problems aside from how long it took. Everything flowed smoothly. No excessive blood loss, no fainting like they feared; it was just that the baby who was born didn't cry. He didn't even react.
That made Lilia break out in a cold sweat. A strange sensation crawled up her spine, something she couldn't quite describe.
She couldn't afford to keep dwelling on that. What she had to do was clear his nose and mouth, get the rest of the amniotic fluid out, but the newborn… the only thing he did was look at her with an expression…
Well, he wasn't exactly looking at her, because his eyes were still closed, but she felt that, beneath those eyelids, something was watching her.
For Lilia, with all her experience, the first thought that hit her was stillbirth. For a moment, she believed it. But seeing the little guy's chest rise and fall slowly, she let out a sigh of relief.
And when she touched him, he was warm, and his pulse was beating. Still, he wouldn't cry… and that was worrying.
Because running through Lilia's mind was a phrase one of the teachers of the royal guard maidens had once told her: "Babies who don't cry at birth usually have some kind of abnormality."
And at the precise moment she was thinking about those words, she noticed the baby's hair was weird… in a way she simply couldn't ignore.
The baby didn't have blond hair, not even brown… It was a deep black, so dark it seemed to suck in the candlelight. And when he slowly opened his eyes, they were an intense RED. Not the soft, dull red of a newborn: they shone like rubies in the sun.
Paul, who a moment ago was pacing all over the room, had stopped dead in front of Lilia, who was holding the baby. She knew about atavism, sure… but she also knew a detail like that could spark an argument impossible to control.
"Zenith… Explain."
He barely took a step back, as if that was enough to justify what he'd just said.
"What do you want me to explain? I just gave birth to our son… Aren't you happy?"
Paul's look said it all. Zenith couldn't believe what she was seeing in those eyes. Not from him. Not from the man who had wooed her, who promised her a family, who slept beside her every night…
"Y-you… you told me it was your first time, that your first time was with me. I… I stopped being with other women during these nine months, but now it turns out that…"
Paul, the big, imposing adventurer swordsman, was now swaying like he was drunk, his shock making him blurt out the first thing that came to mind.
"Paul... Are you serious? Did you forget how gently I begged you to be? Don't you remember the blood, how my body was shaking? You were my first time, and it was that one and only time that I got pregnant. That's it."
She sat up a bit in bed, as if she hadn't just given birth, because this moment called for it.
"Come on… you can't be this much of an idiot. Remember what I told you? That if you didn't sleep with anyone else, I'd let you be with me? Do you think I said that for nothing? If so, you're dumber than I thought… And let me tell you something, Paul Greyrat: what were you like before you were with me?"
She looked him dead in the eye; he didn't seem to know what to say.
"I don't need to spell it out, do I? You know perfectly well. You are the only man I have ever loved, the only one I ever will. And I would never, ever be capable of lying to you about our son."
He could only look at Zenith, then at the black-haired baby… and then at nothing, at a complete void in the corner of the room. Then, slowly, he turned his gaze back to her.
"But… look at him, Zenith. How do you explain that?"
"I don't need to explain anything to you! You should already know! Look at him! This is YOUR son. He came out of ME. He has YOUR blood. It doesn't matter if he has purple hair and gold eyes. He is as much mine as he is yours. He is OURS."
Paul was about to answer, but his mouth just hung open for a second before snapping shut. Her logic was valid, solid, grounded. He couldn't just ignore it, because that made no sense. She had never given him a reason to doubt: she was literally from Millis and, even though she ran away, she followed their laws.
Still, the black hair and the eyes… it made no logical sense. And it was eating him alive inside.
He struggled to accept it, but deep down he felt that it truly was his son… Literally, Zenith was the most trustworthy person he had ever known.
Why did I doubt so much?
Lilia held the baby, feeling awkward, not knowing what to do in the middle of this family drama. Then, a stifled gasp cut through her thoughts and made her spin toward the bed, where Zenith lay, suddenly pale.
"N-no… not again…" Zenith was breathing hard, slowly pulling herself up.
"What? What's wrong now?" That was all Paul could manage to say.
Lilia handed the baby to Paul and moved as fast as she could toward Zenith. She couldn't run because of her condition, but she still moved with impressive efficiency.
Paul had held a sword for years, but he felt like the baby was too fragile. He was afraid, actually scared, of breaking him… and the baby just looked at him with those red eyes, like he was analyzing him.
Lilia leaned over Zenith and checked…
"It can't be…"
The Madam's belly was still raised. That just made Lilia kick herself internally, because she didn't think it was possible to have missed something as huge as a second child…
Paul's suspicion had invaded and poisoned the room from the very first second. The tension had been so high that she missed a crucial detail… the first time something like this had happened to her.
"Are you guys gonna tell me what's happening? Are you okay? What is going on?" Paul replaced the accusation with panic. He felt guilty now that his wife was suffering again, thinking the argument might have caused this.
"There's… there's another one. Another baby… twins," Lilia said calmly, despite the situation.
Twins… the situation had just gotten way too complicated. Especially for Paul, who was now sweating like never before while holding the baby, who kept staring right at him.
"DAMMIT! WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME THERE WERE TWO?!"
"I… didn't know, Madam. It's rare, but it happens. Sometimes one hides behind the other."
"HIDING! LIKE IT'S A GAME!" Even though she was in pain, inside she was happy. Her words weren't the truth; they were just the normal response to unexpected pain.
The second birth was considerably faster, but no less exhausting. Her body barely had any real strength left, although her mental energy seemed surprisingly infinite.
"He's coming out, I can clearly see the head," announced Lilia with relief.
Paul watched nervously from a corner, still holding the first baby clumsily, like he was going to break at any moment.
It was another boy.
And to Lilia's considerable surprise—or maybe genuine fear—this one didn't cry at birth either. But he was notably different from the first. He had light brown hair and, when he finally opened his eyes, they were green. Exactly like Paul… a miniature version of him.
Paul stared at the baby in Lilia's arms, then at the one he held in his own shaking arms. The comparison was impossible to ignore. Twins. Fraternal twins. And his groundless suspicions of cheating vanished instantly in the wind.
"Zenith, I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have... I shouldn't have accused you without..." He stammered, trying to fix his mistake.
"Lilia. My babies. Give me my babies."
With extreme care, Lilia brought the little one with brown hair to Zenith's outstretched arms and then cautiously approached Paul seeking visual confirmation. He simply nodded weakly, visibly ashamed.
"Here he is, Madam," she said serenely.
She looked at her newborns as if the world had stopped around her. They were so small, so fragile… so full of life. She felt something inside her chest give way, and the tears she'd tried to hold back all this time finally escaped.
The pain of childbirth, the fight with Paul… all that knot of emotions that had been choking her unraveled the instant she had them in front of her.
How could she stay angry?
Who could hold a grudge with two miracles breathing in their arms?
It was impossible.
"My sons… my two beautiful sons," she whispered, almost trembling. "My little ones…"
She leaned in and kissed each one's forehead, with that kind of tenderness that hurts, the kind you only discover when you realize there's something in the world you couldn't lose without breaking forever.
Paul took another step toward the bed, awkwardly.
"I… Zenith…"
"Paul. Come here. Look. This baby has your eyes. Even your hair… and that cowlick you always have."
"I know. I… I am so sorry. I shouldn't have doubted you. Never…" Paul swallowed hard.
Zenith cut him off.
"I'm not going to lie to you. It makes sense you were confused at first. If I saw a baby that looked nothing like me, I'd have questions too. But you, Paul Greyrat… are a hypocrite. How many women were with you before me? How many stories did you keep from me? And yet, when I give birth in pain and exhaustion, the first thing you do is accuse me of being a liar."
"...I know. You're absolutely right. I don't have a single valid excuse."
"No, you don't. But these two need their father. Not a perfect man. They need someone who is present. Who loves them. Who takes care of them."
She looked up at Paul again.
"Can you do that? Can you love them both equally?"
Paul couldn't stay on his feet. His legs gave out, and he ended up kneeling by the bed. He looked at the babies. One with his cowlick and hair color. The other with red eyes.
"Yes. I will. I swear."
It was strange to see Paul like this. A man who had faced monsters, bandits, and dangers without blinking… was now actually trembling. Not out of fear of death, but out of fear of failing them.
Zenith let out a faint smile.
"Good. Because if you ever doubt me again… you're sleeping outside with the animals. Understood?"
Paul let out a stifled laugh.
"Understood, my lady."
Zenith added, with a mischievous smile:
"And you are forbidden from touching me for a day."
"A day?! Zenith… I waited months. I don't think I can handle it!"
"Of course you can," she replied, victorious. "You're strong, aren't you?"
***
Minutes later, Zenith was finally resting. She looked at her sons. She studied their small faces, even their soft breathing. It was time to decide the names. They already had one for each gender, but the second boy was a surprise.
"The one with brown hair… will be Rudeus. He'll be named Rudeus," said Zenith, kissing her son's forehead.
"And for you, little one… how about… Roland?"
The baby frowned slightly, a gesture she noticed instantly. Lilia, watching in silence, didn't help at all: she just got more scared.
"No? How about… Damian?"
Another look of disapproval. Paul and Zenith exchanged confused glances.
They tried several more names: Adrian, Kieran, Lysander. Each one got the same negative reaction. They were about to give up when Paul got up from his chair.
"I'm going to invent something… We lose nothing anyway."
"What are you gonna try, Paul?" asked Zenith, confused but intrigued.
"I'll say sounds until he likes one. I heard that usually works."
Paul walked up to the black-haired baby, who was watching him closely.
"How about… Hi… io… ri?"
The baby didn't react this time. Neither good nor bad.
"It's working!" exclaimed Zenith happily.
"Listen to me, son… Da… i… ki?"
And, to their surprise, a small smile appeared. Barely there, but enough to relieve Zenith. His eyes shone for an instant, as if he had finally heard something he liked.
"Da… i… ki. Why did you have to suggest such a hard name?" murmured Zenith.
"No, Zenith. You say 'Daiki', with stress on the a," Paul corrected her with humor.
"Since when did you become a teacher?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Since today."
"Daiki and Rudeus Greyrat…" whispered Zenith, almost breathless.
‹ Daiki… Rudeus… ›
Little Rudeus's mind could barely process what had just happened.
‹ Daiki… That name is Japanese… I didn't understand the rest. ›
Lilia, who had been watching everything from her spot in reverent silence, felt a chill run down her spine. There was something about those babies that unsettled her. Something hard to name, like a feeling planted deep in her instinct.
But when she looked closer, all she saw was a newborn curled up against his mother: vulnerable, small… completely innocent.
(Maybe it's just my imagination, she told herself). It wasn't.
Because right then, inside the mind of the baby named Daiki, there was a joy he didn't think he'd ever feel again.
‹ Daiki. Close to my original name. Perfect. And my twin was... Rudeus? This language is weird. I've never heard it before. ›
His thoughts were cut short by a wave of exhaustion. The simple act of keeping his eyes open and processing language had drained his infant energy.
‹ I guess even with my intelligence, this body has its limits. For now, just sleep. Observe and learn. ›
With that last thought, he closed his eyes and let himself be carried away by sleep, cradled by the heartbeat of his new mother.
Zenith held her two sons against her chest, tears of exhaustion and joy sliding down her cheeks.
"Welcome to the world, my little ones." She hugged them with a happiness that overflowed.
Paul, now totally reconciled with reality and himself, wrapped his arms around his family.
"I will train them to be strong. To be honorable. To be better than I was."
"Paul, they were barely just born…" said Zenith between relieved laughter.
"I know, I know. But someone has to make them strong. They won't always be in your arms."
"That's why I'll cherish every second with them." She looked at her babies, sleeping peacefully. "But don't make me think about that now. They will always be my babies."
Paul carefully took little Rudeus and laid him in a makeshift crib. He did the same with Daiki, laying him next to his twin brother.
Then he tried to kiss Zenith, but she pushed him away gently.
"You're grounded… Believe me, I want to too, but I have to keep my word. Especially since I said it in front of them."
Although, deep down, she was already regretting sentencing him like that.
***
Only a few weeks had passed, but little Daiki seemed to have no expression at all—unlike Rudeus, who at least made some faces; some of which made Lilia even more nervous.
Zenith, on the other hand, saw no difference. To her, Daiki was simply "the quiet baby" and Rudeus "the expressive baby." She loved them both, and nothing could ever change that.
One afternoon, Paul tried to bathe Rudeus. Nothing new: the baby made a face and that was it. Then he picked up Daiki. But he… he never reacted. Not even to the warm water. He just floated there, staring at him.
"Daiki… come on. Laugh, cry, do something," Paul whispered, drying him off carefully.
…
Another afternoon, Daiki and Rudeus were lying on a shared bed. They stared at each other, though obviously they couldn't say anything—just babbling unintelligible sounds. Rudeus seemed restless, kicking his feet and waving his hands constantly, while the black-haired one didn't even move. He was so still that, from a distance, you could think anything.
Even so, Daiki staring at him only made Rudeus more curious.
‹It's him! The red-eyed one. He's looking at me. It's intimidating… I wonder if he's also…›
Daiki tried to reach his hand toward his brother's, but it was useless; his body wouldn't respond properly, and all he managed was a clumsy baby swat. Still, that simple gesture—seen by Zenith from the doorway—was enough to melt her on the spot.
Paul appeared behind her, also watching their two sons. Then he leaned in and softly kissed the nape of Zenith's neck, making her shiver.
"P-Paul..."
And both of them, as was their habit, headed to their room without ever stopping their kisses.