The frail split soul went through a near non-existent World Barrier that barely put up any resistance to the entry of a foreign invader. Unlike the crystal walls of the World of Gods, or the barrier of the Magus World, this… Six-Sided world was like wet paper in comparison.
The split soul flickered and wavered, like the embers of a dying flame. Compared to when the split soul was first created, it was barely a tenth of its original size.
The amount of damage it took while traversing the Astral Plane was immense. It was a miracle and a statistical anomaly that it managed to survive the countless spatial storms it had encountered after being sent out into the Astral Realm by the Original.
Despite its damage, the split soul still functioned as its creator had intended, with the help of a greatly diminished but still functional copy of the Original's A.I. Chip.
But the split soul was dying. Reaching this world took nearly everything it had, the last remnants of its waning power was all it had to direct the split soul into the nearest compatible body of a local native.
The fragment of Leylin Farlier's split soul regained its consciousness in a dark yet oddly cozy place.
"Where is this…" The split soul tried extending his senses to discern his circumstances. Yet he had none. He had no eyes for sight, no ears for sound, not even limbs to touch.
"Did it work?" The question was perhaps unnecessary. If the split soul had failed to enter a world and take root in the body of a native, the consciousness of Leylin Farlier would not have managed to wake up in this instance.
But the split soul could also easily sense the immense damage taken during its inadvertently turbulent travel through the Astral Plane. Its Soul Force, though only a fraction of the Original's, dwarfed a regular human's by orders of magnitudes. Yet, it waned dangerously. While its situation had stabilised upon entering a world, it did not have enough energy to remain awake any longer.
"I don't even have enough energy to assess the damage. I need to reduce the consumption of energy and hibernate to recover."
The split soul gave the A.I Chip that had survived the turbulent journey through the spatial storms of the Astral Plane alongside him an order - to wake him up only when enough energy had been recovered and the injuries to the soul healed. With that final thought, the split soul closed his metaphorical eyes to sleep.
——
"WAAH!" The energetic cries of a newborn could be heard throughout the delivery room. The Millishion healer hired by the young lord immediately casting healing spells to stabilise the mother.
The baby was wrapped in clean towels and warm water was used to wash off the leftover blood and placenta he was covered in. The mid wife brought the baby out to his father, in another room next door.
"My Lord, congratulations. Madam has given you a healthy baby boy." The midwife presented the swaddled newborn who was still energetically showing off the set of healthy lungs he was born with to the nobleman.
The nobleman, a young man not even in his teens yet, barely having hair on a thin mustache over his lips, gazed at the infant with mixed feelings. He didn't take the baby from the midwife, just looked at him.
"Good, my heir is born." He tried to speak with the detached regality of a noble that was expected of him, but the tremble in his voice betrayed the abundance of emotions he was feeling.
Pilemon Notos Greyrat became a father at 10 years old. It was bizarre, even amongst Asuran nobility who 'matured' sooner than their peers. (This is true, according to the wiki.)
It was only partly an accident. After his older brother, Paul, ran away from home, their father was furious. From having an heir and a spare, Pilemon was now their only child. If Pilemon failed to reproduce and something happened to him, that would have been the end of the Notos Greyrat line.
So three years after Paul ran away from home, Pilemon found himself with a betrothal, then a month-long engagement and finally married before he even turned 10 years old.
While most other boys at that age wouldn't even have the biological maturity necessary to consummate the marriage, the Greyrats were just built different.
Within a few weeks after their wedding, his wife, who was 6 years older than him, was pregnant.
As Pilemon beheld the baby, his son, his heir, a storm of mixed emotions surged in his chest. He was satisfied that he had done his duty for the family, as entrusted by his father.
Yet, he also couldn't help but feel ill-prepared for the burden and responsibility of fatherhood. He himself had only just turned 10 years old a few months ago, yet he was now expected to raise a baby of his own?
Thankfully there was little he would actually need to do with his own hands - perks of being a nobleman in one of the most prestigious and powerful noble families in the Asura Kingdom.
There was trepidation, yes, but at the same time optimism. He would raise this child to be better than him and definitely better than the idiot older brother who ran away from his status and duty.
"A little loud isn't he? Does he need milk?" He asked, trying to keep the uncertainty from his voice from showing.
The baby was crying with his eyes closed, small pudgy arms struggling against the restraints of the swaddling towel.
"It is normal, my lord. He is a strong, healthy child." The midwife commented, gazing with affection at the adorable little thing. "He'll be a warrior, this one."
"A warrior?" The nobleman scoffed, "He will be my heir! The next lord of Notos Greyrat after me. Not a common warrior!"
The midwife bowed apologetically, "Of course my lord, I did not mean to-"
"Pilemon!" A loud, booming voice resounded from the door that swung open.
"Father!" Pilemon greeted with a more subdued bow exchanged between familial members. "It is my honor to present your grandson."
He gestured for the midwife to present his son to his father.
Amarant Notos Greyrat took the babe from the midwife, and held the child like a merchant would appraise a product.
The baby only cried harder from the rough handling.
"Good lungs. Healthy limbs." The nobleman let a faint smile cross his lips. "You've done well, Pilemon. A little earlier than I had expected but well done nonetheless."
"Thank you father." Pilemon grinned at the praise that came so rarely from a father that showed little affection even for his sons. In so many ways, Pilemon himself was still just a child, despite having already fathered a child of his own.
"Have you or your wife decided on a name for the boy?"
'Yes. Leylin. Leylin Notos Greyrat.' Pilemon wanted to answer. It was a name his wife had sprung on him suddenly close to delivery, but he had liked the sound of it too.
But he knew that was not the answer his father wanted.
"Not yet." Pilemon answered, "Why don't father name him. It will be an honour for father to bestow a name for his first grandson."
He laid it on thick. With an emphasis on first grandson. Too often he had witnessed Amarant look wistfully out the window of their keep as though hoping to catch sight of his wayward, and even now, still, his favourite child returning home regretfully after having his fill of adventuring outside their ancestral lands.
Pilemon hoped that with the birth of his son, it would be a permanent reminder that Paul was long gone and Pilemon was the one who remained. The one who did as he was told and married at the tender age of 9, who did his duty for this family while the eldest gallivanted around shaming their family name.
Amarant's smile widened.
"Very well then. Hmm…" The nobleman took on a ponderous expression before his eyes brightened.
"He shall be named Luke! Luke Notos Greyrat. My grandson!"
Pilemon bowed deeply, "Thank you for the honour, father!"
_________
Author's notes: When I was doing research for the story, I had to do a double take at Luke and Pilemon's birth year. Luke was born in K404, and Pilemon was born in K394. So it is canon that Pilemon was only 10 years old when Luke was born. Absolute mad lad.