Against The Eternity Chapter 8: [7] Chapter - 3: Morning of Awakening (Part 1/2)

Read chapter 8 of Against The Eternity by Phoenixfly_steller on NovelPedia.

[7] Chapter - 3: Morning of Awakening (Part 1/2) Morning sunlight spilt gently through the thin curtains. Painting long golden lines across the wooden floor as though dawn itself had stepped quietly into the room and decided to linger a little longer than usual. A cool breeze slipped through the half-open window. It carries the crisp fragrance of early morning — fresh, clean, and sharp enough to wake even stubborn thoughts that preferred sleep. Dust motes drifted lazily in the light. It was rising and falling like tiny wandering spirits with nowhere urgent to be. The small table beside the window, holding a simple jug, a glass, and a few neatly placed pills in a white coloured vial with painted blue flowers on it, shimmered beneath the sunlight’s touch. The surface of the them glowed as if dipped in molten gold—an ordinary scene transformed into something almost sacred purely by the patience of morning. Another shaft of light stretched inward from the doorway, soft and filtered, resembling sunlight slipping through a forest canopy and scattering warmth wherever it landed. It was filling the room with a calm, golden stillness that felt undeservedly peaceful after the chaos of the previous day. Yet there was nothing mystical about its source—only a door left slightly ajar. A window near his bed opened halfway, its wooden frame creaking faintly whenever the breeze pushed against it. At the same time, the second window beside the door stood equally half open. It was as if the room itself could not decide whether to welcome the world outside or keep its secrets safely within. Eklavya blinked slowly as his eyes fluttered open. His awareness began to return in fragments, his mind still wrapped in the heavy fog left behind by the previous night's incident. Memories lingered just beyond clear reach—flashes of pain, light, and burning visions—but his body felt strangely calm now. His body was sore yet stable, like a blade that had been hammered too fiercely but had survived the forging. The stiffness in his limbs reminded him he had pushed far beyond his limits. Though thankfully nothing felt broken, which he privately counted as a small victory considering recent events seemed determined to test every bone he owned. As he lifted his head slightly, his gaze shifted toward the side of the bed—and stilled. His mother sat there on a small wooden stool, her upper body resting against the bedside table. She was asleep in an awkward position that clearly spoke of long hours spent refusing rest. Her head leaned gently against the table’s edge. The strands of hair escaping from her loosened bun and falling across her cheeks, moving faintly with each quiet breath. The room was silent except for that soft, steady rhythm. The morning light that came through the doorway and fell partially across her shoulders and hair, turning loose strands into threads of gold, illuminated the exhaustion she had tried so carefully to hide. A quiet warmth spread through Eklavya’s chest. It was deeper than gratitude, softer than relief—and an unconscious smile formed on his lips, gentle enough to match the fragile peace of the moment. “Mom…” he whispered, his voice barely louder than the morning breeze itself, afraid that speaking any louder might shatter the calm she had stayed awake all night to protect. His small movement caused the wooden chair to creak faintly. The sound was barely louder than a whisper. Yet, Aashi’s eyes snapped open instantly, the reflex of a mother who had not truly slept at all. For a brief second, confusion clouded her gaze, then relief flooded in the moment she saw him awake. A smile blossomed across her face, fragile but radiant, and Eklavya smiled back instinctively. The next moment, tears gathered in her eyes without warning. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms tightly around him, pulling him into an embrace so sudden and firm that he felt the tremor running through her hands. In that hug, he understood everything she did not say—t