The book didn't provide a single solution. The Moon Goddess's diary, despite being a direct address to her daughter, was just ramblings of her painful pregnancy. Bedridden from dawn to dusk. Excruciating agony all night long. Being pregnant with a Direct Descendant was as good as sentencing Selene to death by torture.
Ophelia read to a page that stopped her dead in her tracks. Layla's fingers trembled as she read the passage aloud.
"...you are my true daughter, the only creature I'd value and treasure. All those that come before and after you are cheap imitations of you. They've named that wretched and mangled beast Roselind, but what good does the girl have? She possesses none of my magic, none of my powers. Not a strand of silver runs through her scalp, not a droplet of amethyst in those eyes. All that comes before you are failures." Layla exhaled, peering upon Ophelia, reading the young Duchess's expression. Layla had heard very little about Ophelia's family, but knew the family's favorite was her older sister, Roselind Eves.
"I-I have more than o-one half-sibling," Ophelia realized, raising her head to peer upon Layla. "W-why was my m-mother that insistent on making m-more of her?"
"Almost as if she was experimenting," Layla murmured, trying to piece the puzzle together. "She must've met many men of many backgrounds before she settled upon House Eves. Your bloodline consists of the founders of the ancient treaty from decades ago, it would make sense for her to search for your father."
Ophelia slowly placed the book on her lap. She would never be able to tell her father the truth. That the woman he was so obsessively in love with had never once shared his emotions. She only viewed him as a sperm contributing to her ultimate creation.
"But why?" Ophelia asked. "W-what did she gain from b-birthing the perfect Direct Descendant?"
"Perhaps this passage will help."
The women spun around at the wise voice coming from the entrance of the library. Reagan hobbled inside, each step as painful as it seemed, but he walked proud and old. He gently placed the book onto the desk, as if it was the most delicate object he's ever held.
"How many lives will this take?" Ophelia confessed, her lips trembling. "Mana draws on life forces… to suck all the magic from this world, how many will die in my attempt?"
"That is for you to decide," Layla stated. "But so far, we do not know the existence of that kind of spell. We do not know the destruction that could sweep these lands or the blessing that could save us from the darkness."
"But to rid all the monsters… be it goblins, banshees… we would all be saved," Ophelia argued. "All of humanity!" "We'd never live in fear again," Layla agreed. "Children won't have to lose their fathers who leave to defend their homes from these treacherous beings. There would be less wars. Fewer deaths. Think about all the people we could—"
"W-wouldn't this erase vampires and werewolves?" Ophelia realized. Her heart dropped to her stomach. A neverending dread crept into her consciousness. She broke out in a cold sweat. Rooted in her seat by fear, she couldn't imagine a life where Killorn wasn't by her side. Her proud husband. Stubborn and serious. Heated and hardened by his experiences. Yet, gentle was his touch upon her flesh, and loving was his gaze upon her entirety.
"Vampires and werewolves are a form of humans," Reagan finally sighed. "When monsters are murdered, a mana stone is found within their hearts. It is what keeps their organs alive. Vampires and werewolves, on the other hand, possess human hearts. If you could even believe that."
Ophelia's eyes widened. A wealth of questions came to her. There was a way to save them all. A way out of the darkness. A light at the end of the tunnel, until Reagan's words crashed Ophelia back to reality.
"Ophelia, what you're planning to do will change the world," Reagan warned. "There will be many that disagree. They will do anything and everything to prevent your success. You would be branded a witch to be hunted and hung for your crimes."
"Or," Layla challenged. "By changing the cycle of life, by wiping all darkness from the earth, you would be a saintess—no, even better. You are going to be worshiped. There will be temples built in your name. Statutes built in your frame. In the eyes of the humans, you will become one of the New Gods." Ophelia tensed.
"A Goddess that'd walk amongst humans, the last and only of her kind. Tell me, my dear friend, are you ready for that responsibility?" [2/3]
Xincerely
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