As I was lost in thoughts about this new world and the challenges ahead, I heard the faint sound of small footsteps from behind the door. A gentle knock followed, and then a tiny voice called out.
"Papa, are you awake?" The voice was high-pitched and sweet, instantly bringing a smile to my face.
I replied softly, "Yes, Lumi, what is it?"
The door creaked open, and a little girl with silky white hair and bright golden eyes came running toward me. Her innocent face, combined with a slight pout, made her look even more adorable.
"Papa, why are you taking so long? We've been waiting in the dining room, and Lumi's tummy is hungry!" she complained, clutching her stomach in an exaggerated manner. Her tone was playful but filled with childlike impatience.
Lumine Carval. My youngest daughter, six years old. She had the innocence typical of her age, but with a dash of mischief and vivid imagination. She always managed to brighten my day with her antics.
"Oh no, I made little Lumi hungry," I said, feigning guilt. "What must Papa do to earn Lumi's forgiveness?"
Her pout instantly turned into a beaming smile, her eyes sparkling with delight. "Papa has to play with Lumi later!" she declared enthusiastically.
I chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Of course, my little princess," I said, bowing playfully. I scooped her up into my arms, making her giggle, and carried her out of the room, followed closely by a few loyal attendants who always accompanied Lumi.
When we arrived at the dining room, three pairs of eyes were already on me, waiting at the grand, elegantly decorated table. Myra, my wife, sat gracefully at the head of the table, while Roland and Liora, my older children, watched with various expressions.
"Sorry for being late," I said with a meaningful smile. "I was just mulling over some new ideas."
"Oh, Father! What new ideas? Can you tell me about them later?" Liora asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.
Liora Carval. My 12-year-old daughter. With her jet-black hair and golden eyes, she was a mirror image of me in female form. Bright, innovative, and ever-curious, she often helped me with research in the past despite her young age.
Myra chuckled softly at Liora's enthusiasm. "Liora, we're at the dining table. Mind your manners," she gently reminded her, her tone kind but firm. "Remember, you are a noblewoman."
Before Liora could respond, Roland, my eldest son, chimed in with a teasing tone. "Yes, Liora. If you keep behaving like that, no one will want to get engaged to you. Haha!"
"Hey, you stupid brother! That's none of your business!" Liora shot back, her cheeks flushing red with irritation. "Besides, I'm still too young for things like that! Hmph!" She crossed her arms over her chest, emphasizing her annoyance.
I couldn't help but smile at their banter. There was something heartwarming and amusing about these little sibling squabbles.
Myra Carval, my wife, was nothing short of an angel in my eyes. At 38 years old but appearing like a woman in her twenties, she was captivating with her silvery-white hair, ocean-blue eyes, and natural grace. She was gentle and wise but could be firm when the situation called for it.
Then there was Roland Carval, my 17-year-old son and the heir to the Carval family. If Liora was my reflection, Roland was the perfect image of Myra in male form. With the same silvery-white hair and blue eyes, he embodied the "knight in shining armor" stereotype that modern teenage girls back in my world would have swooned over. While responsible and wise, particularly as the future head of the family, he had an undeniable playful streak when dealing with his siblings.
The warmth radiating from the dining room reminded me of the small joys often overlooked. This new world was full of challenges and uncertainties, but my family was my anchor. Despite the daunting mission the system had given me, I had a strong reason to persevere. I had an extraordinary family—and with them, I felt confident that I could bring change, even to a world as foreign as this one.