There Are Mountains Left to Climb

William had mostly recovered from the morning's shock—the revelation of supernatural powers known as Aura. But as his little heart settled, the workaholic mind of the 28-year-old Earthling inside this infant body began spinning once again—polished, disciplined, and relentless.

"If I have to start, I'll start now."

That old habit, the unshakable will of a former college topper, clicked into place. Knowledge is the root. Books are the branches.

"Library it is."

So far, William's days had been dictated by his parents—where to go, when to eat, how to sit, when to smile. But now… now was the time to take the wheel.

For the first time in this new life, William expressed a will of his own.

As Emil prepared to follow their usual morning schedule—carrying William on her lap toward the tea pavilion in the garden—William turned his head sharply toward the other direction. He pointed his tiny finger toward a large oak door embedded in stone—the door to the manor's library. Then came a wail.

She paused on the stairway.

"What…?"

Her eyes widened in disbelief. Was this truly the first time her son asked for something? Not babbled. Not giggled. Asked—with direction and intention.

"Did he… choose?" she whispered.

She hesitated for a moment, then changed her direction toward the library, holding her child firmly. She stood before the large wooden doors, almost testing him.

"If it's just a coincidence… he won't react."

But William gave her a mature look—one that didn't belong on a baby's face. He glanced at her, then toward the door again, as if asking:

"Why did you stop?"

And then came the final confirmation. From her lap, William reached his hand toward the door, attempting to push it.

She gasped softly.

"He… he truly wants this."

With a trembling but proud smile, Emil opened the heavy doors and stepped inside.

The Library

Light bathed the floor through six tall crystalline windows. A massive chandelier of polished quartz hung like a floating crown from the center of the domed ceiling. Eight distinct sections lined the walls, each marked by unique symbols—history, art, medicine, language, alchemy, battle arts, martial arts, and philosophy.

A central table occupied the entrance. A trio of reading couches nestled beside a polished desk. On the left wall, a sleek drawer rested beneath shelves of manuscripts. The center of the library floor was marked with a magic circle—arcane, mysterious, and likely ancient.

William's jaw dropped. The infant body couldn't express awe—but the soul inside him felt it intensely.

"This is… incredible. So much knowledge… just waiting."

He motioned to Emil—fidgeting in her arms, making a clear gesture to be placed down. Emil hesitated, then gently lowered him.

The moment his little knees touched the velvet carpet, he launched forward in a hurried crawl, heading straight for the rows of books.

"If only I could read them now… no time to waste…"

He paused under the Language symbol, then looked around again, eyes scanning. Some symbols he understood, others still felt foreign.

"I've grasped the basics of the language… but it's not enough. I need full mastery."

Emil chuckled gently from behind him.

"Oh Will… what are you doing?" she whispered and scooped him back into her arms. "If you crawl like that, your knees will be full of scratches."

With a mother's warmth and curiosity, she began walking past each section, closely watching her son's expressions. She tried not to hope. Not to imagine too much.

"Am I expecting too much? Just because he showed some awareness…"

"No… a baby can't choose a section, can he?"

But the moment they neared the last section—History—William raised both of his hands. Reaching. Pointing.

Emil froze.

"…History?"

With careful fingers, she pulled down a thin book—a soft-spined collection of verses. The cover bore an elegant painting of the sea and two silhouettes beneath a pale sky. The title read:

"When Oceans Whispered Our Names"

(A lullaby based on the love story of Nirvana and Evan)

She sat at the study table, gently setting William down on the couch beside her. His fingers itched with anticipation, flipping pages with clumsy speed.

"You need to learn how to read first, Will!" Emil giggled. "Let Mommy help you."

She turned the book back to the beginning and began to read aloud.

Lullaby: When Oceans Whispered Our Names

She was the dawn on a hill so high,

He was the dusk beneath the southern sky.

They met where the sea and sky became one,

Two hearts entwined before day was done.

He held her hand with a promise so deep,

She smiled and gave dreams she once kept in sleep.

But the stars had fates the hearts must obey,

And paths of love were led astray.

He marched for peace with blade in hand,

She bore the light to heal the land.

They fought apart, they stood alone,

Yet found each other when all was gone.

Though time has stopped, and he sleeps in flame,

The sea still whispers her secret name.

For love like theirs does not decay—

It lives, it weeps, it finds its way.

William blinked slowly, absorbing every word. The rhythm calmed his heart. But something about the verses stirred a quiet ache within him—an ache he couldn't explain.

He didn't know why, but the name Evan felt like a half-remembered echo. And the description of her—the goddess of light—felt... familiar, almost too perfect. A fable painted in gold.

But he didn't question it. Not yet.

"So this… is how the world remembers them."

"It's beautiful… even if I don't know why it makes my chest feel heavy."

Emil glanced at her son's wide, transfixed eyes and smiled gently.

"You like it, don't you?" she whispered. "One day, I'll tell you all the verses. It's said this lullaby calms the heart of even the fiercest warriors."

William looked around the library—the chandelier above, the towering shelves, the ancient tomes whispering secrets.

He looked again at the delicate pages in Emil's hands, then to the crest of the Goddess Nirvana embossed in silver ink.

"There are mountains left to climb…"

And for the first time in this new life, he felt it—not just curiosity. But purpose.

"This… is just the beginning."

A lullaby floats in the air-

In silent halls where secrets sleep,

The infant stirs, his will runs deep.

A world unknown, a fate unsealed,

A mind reborn, with truth revealed.