Chapter 118 The Child Who Never Get A Name
"What is your name...?" Iris asked softly, though her heart already knew the answer. Her body recognized the girl's aura—a deep resonance that echoed like a faint drumbeat from the depths of her soul. A trembling stirred in Iris's chest, a fragile dance between bittersweet hope and profound fear, as if the heavy weight of an unseen responsibility pressed upon every breath she took. She loved this girl with the boundless depth of the endless ocean, yet the outside world whispered of a more complicated, painful story—one darkened by uncertain shadows looming in the future.
The girl lowered her gaze, her expression swallowed by a biting silence. For a suspended moment, time itself seemed to waver around her, as if the fragile fabric of reality strained to contain an overwhelming presence arriving too soon—flooding the air with a quiet, indescribable energy. Strands of her hair danced on a wind that did not exist, as invisible particles of existence seemed to shimmer and twirl in her vicinity. Her cloak billowed with an elusive rhythm, stirred not by any earthly breeze,
but by a defiance of the very law of causality itself. In that impossible stillness, Iris found herself caught in silence, overwhelmed by a piercing longing mixed with sorrow—like a shadow blurred and dark, hinting at an unpredictable and haunting future. She wondered, with aching tenderness, if this girl would ever know the happiness she so desperately deserved.
"I can't answer, Mother."
"Why?"
"Because my name... is not yet to be spoken in this world.
If you were to know it,
the world would rush to accelerate my birth,
or... erase it entirely."
Suddenly, Iris felt a sharp, searing pain coil tightly around her chest, as if a knife had been plunged deep within, tearing through her heart with unbearable anguish. How cruel that this child must shoulder a burden no child should bear—a responsibility so vast it dwarfed her tender age and fragile spirit. She longed to scream aloud, to shield her from such torment, but uncertainty held her captive in silence, paralyzed and unsure how to help.
Motionless, Iris remained trapped in a suffocating void, the air thick with unshed grief.