Side Story.

The noonday sun hung like a white‑hot coin in a bleached sky, midsummer heat shimmering off the earth.

Eli bought a popsicle and sat by the sea, watching the tide breathe in and out like a giant lung.

The sea breeze grew bolder. Edlyn appeared from behind with a tub of ice cream, looped an arm around his neck, and nuzzled him like a soft cat. “Eli~ what’re we eating tonight?”

“Whatever you cook is perfect.” He pulled her into his arms and pecked her cheek like a dragonfly on water.

Edlyn’s smile bloomed. She polished off the ice cream in a few quick bites, then flicked a spark that turned the empty carton to clean ash. “No idea,” she murmured, leaning into him.

Eli’s laugh was a low ripple. He rested his chin on her head like a stone on moss. “So quiet. Feels like we’re two old men.”

“Is growing old with me so bad?” She wrinkled her tiny nose, eyes bright as dew.

“How could it be? But isn’t forever even better?” He toyed with her long hair, inhaling the salt-and-sun scent.

She squirmed in his lap, a small fish in warm shallows. “That tickles.”

They played, teasing as the day thinned. By the time they came back to themselves, dusk was pouring gold like spilled amber. Eli lay on the ground, chin tilted to a sky burning down to embers. Edlyn nestled into his chest; they shared a smile and the hush of it.

“After all this eternity, what still nags us is the kitchen clatter—rice, oil, salt, soy, vinegar, tea.” Edlyn watched Eli’s face, sweetness curving her lips like a crescent moon.

The dimming sky loosened Eli’s breath like a loosened sash. “There’s gotta be order. You unhappy?” He pinched her soft cheeks, pink as peach bloom.

“Nope. With you, everything has meaning.” She rubbed her cheek against his hand, arms tightening like a scarf.

“By the way, it’s been a while since we ate with the kids. When should we?” She sat up, swung both legs over his hips, and settled on his stomach, head bowed. A waterfall of silver hair fell past his temples.

“Sure. Now?” He sat up and hugged her close.

“Better not. Too sudden. The youngest shouldn’t catch on.” She giggled. “Let’s wander over slow~”

“Mm.” Eli smiled. He wiped a hand over his face; his figure shrank into a handsome, slightly stooped old man. Edlyn waved a hand over her own face and became a silvered old woman.

“Ahem. Let’s go, old man.” She laced her fingers through his. He chuckled, and together they drifted down the road like two leaves on an evening stream.

“Grandpa~ Grandma~” A clear voice rang out like a bell while he was chatting with his son, Yale.

A seven- or eight‑year‑old girl, backpack bouncing, raced over the way a sparrow darts to a branch. Eli scooped her up. “Elena’s grown so tall.”

“Obviously. I’m a grown‑up now.” Hands on hips, the pretty girl looked comically fierce.

Winnie came in with a bag, stepped into the house, and froze at the sight of two elders perched there like cranes. She’d seen enough, though; one glance at their faces and she understood.

The in‑laws were at it again.

“Dad. Mom.” Winnie stepped forward, smiling soft as lamplight.

“Back already?” Eli’s smile was a warm tide. Edlyn rubbed Winnie’s arms, palms gentle as warm cloth. “Caught a little cold?”

Winnie blinked and nodded. Edlyn tapped her between the brows, and the ache in her body drifted off like mist in sun. Winnie’s eyes went wide.

“Dad, Mom, what do you want to eat? I’ll have Winnie get started early,” Yale said, grinning at the cozy scene.

Eli played with his granddaughter’s fingers like shells. “No need to fuss over us. Keep it simple.”

Seeing the couple glance at each other, at a loss, Edlyn nudged Eli’s ankle with her toe, then smiled. “You know us. Nothing’s special anymore. We mainly came to see you.”

When the others had been shooed off, Eli sank into the sofa, his features relaxing back to themselves like paint settling.

Yale sat beside him, chuckling and shaking his head. “Dad, you and Mom gotta stop doing that and spooking us. Last time you turned into two little kids. Winnie thought I had secret love children.”

“Heh. You don’t get it. It’s spice,” Eli said, shrugging, easy as a summer breeze. “Old couples gotta stir up a little mischief.”

“That’s ‘cause you’ve got nothing to do right now. In the original world, humans and gods are at war again. You’re not going back to handle it?” Yale sighed, eyeing his father’s carefree look.

“Haha. Let them fight.” Eli’s voice was a calm tide. “Either they seize the world’s sovereignty and end the age of gods, or the gods keep their glory. It’s their path. If I step in, I crack the balance we bled to set.”

“Alright, enough of that. Any problems with Elena’s recent growth?” Eli’s tone turned steady as stone.

Yale’s smile faded. “It’s… okay. We’re keeping it suppressed.”

“That’s good.” Eli nodded, regret shadowing his eyes like clouds. “That’s on me. I got careless. You and Anna were born of me and Edlyn; your bodies were already near perfect. And Alice was wrought from starlight. So you weren’t corroded by inherited energy.”

He looked into the distance, helplessness thin as fog. “I didn’t expect descendants with ordinary humans to be hit this hard.”

“It’s not on you, Dad. Some things can’t be controlled.” Yale patted his shoulder, steady as a hand on an oar. “When Elena has a child, those negatives should fade. The power will seal cleanly into the bloodline. No more issues.”

After they settled everything.

On a small island.

The TV droned about terrorists like cold rain on tin, and Eli covered a yawn with the back of his hand.

He turned. Edlyn, hugging a glass of milk, was sneaking about like a guilty kitten. She met his eyes and straightened up. “I’m going upstairs to rest.”

Before he could answer, she dashed up, thump‑thump‑thump, like quick drums on a stairwell.

He frowned a little, clicked off the TV, went up, and pushed the door. The bedroom was ink‑black. Edlyn leaned on the headboard, staring at the ceiling like it held the night sea.

He came to the bed and gathered her close. She wrapped her arms around his neck and burrowed into his chest, a small bird finding a nest.

“Elena might live shorter than most,” she whispered, voice drifting like ash. “Sixty, maybe…”

He let out a thin, bitter breath and shook his head. Blood‑born power was a tide even he couldn’t command. He simply held her small body and patted her back, heartbeat steady as a drum.

Time slipped by like a river under ice. In a blink, another thousand years.

Eli stood before a headstone, face still as carved wood. Edlyn leaned against him, eyes hollow as winter sky.

On the stone: Yale Ostor.

He had carried his son’s soul into the void with his own hands, and pain found him again like an old blade.

Eli tightened his grip on Edlyn’s hand, fingers lacing like roots.

If not for Edlyn—if not for Liqianyu and Yiyi—this endless span might have driven him mad.

—

“Eli~ Eli~ wake up.” Edlyn rubbed his cheek, voice sweet as honey.

Eli stretched like a cat and tapped her head. “Why’re we up so early?”

“You promised to take me to peek at a new world today.” She pouted, cherry lips puffed. “I’m curious what the other me and you did~”

“Strictly speaking, they’re not really us.” He sat up and yawned, a lion in soft light.

“Whatever. Let’s go.” She straddled his thighs, gaze like a snare.

Then she felt a certain stick rise and press against her, shameless as spring.

Edlyn gave him a long, misty look. “If you don’t get up, I’m putting you on a hundred‑year vow of chastity.”

“...Don’t. I’m sorry, honey.”