Having children and not having children are two completely different states.
With children, there's an added sense of concern.
Something called 'legacy' echoed in Simon's heart, constantly telling him to impart wisdom to his children. It was like lighting a spark, emitting some light, and then passing that light on to ignite more sparks.
But ultimately, he was an outsider. He didn't know what to leave for future generations. As Jonas grew up, Simon only hoped he would be brave, never having to apologize for his life, no matter what. Beyond that, he didn't know what else to say.
Though he understood many things, it was like internal energy; not everything was universally applicable.
Simon could, of course, impart some humanistic thought, some ethics and morals, bringing his favored and recognized culture to this world. But these things might not be suitable for inheritance, especially in a fantasy world with magic and gods.
He could only tell Jonas one truth—Power!
Originally, he planned to let Jonas fend for himself once he came of age, but after Simon was shocked to learn he was a Dragonborn, things became more complicated.
Just as he had always believed, in this world, one doesn't have power by being alive; one is alive by having power. Although Jonas was precocious and exceptionally gifted, he was still just a chick. How could he, rashly, bear the fate of the lives and deaths of all people?
When Alduin returns to the world in the future to re-enslave mortals, who can stop these undying beings without a Dragonborn? No matter how many dragons are killed, Alduin can simply summon them back with a Shout.
Humanity's chances of winning are too small; only the Dragonborn can end this calamity.
Life is not a game that can be taken lightly. The stories in games are pre-arranged, one after another, keeping you captivated and allowing you to play happily. Most of life's stories are a combination of the mundane and the unexpected, and for ordinary people, suffering often outweighs joy.
Simon had seen many stories of ordinary people in the land of Skyrim. Those who lived in the wilderness, setting up tents or simple huts as homes, were people who couldn't afford houses or pay taxes in the cities. Some made a small living by fishing and hunting, while others turned to banditry. And those who lived in towns also had difficult lives, working hard in agriculture or for merchants, with their earnings subject to various taxes, and their daily lives filled with trivial matters. Both groups constantly worried about being killed by beasts or villains. While those living in cities were safer, they had their own troubles.
Young people yearned for heroic deeds from stories, wanting to venture out, while the elderly only wished to live without disaster or illness. Daily life seemed identical, like a great mire threatening to drag everyone in and drown them. People knew their current lives weren't what they wanted, yet they were bewildered by the future.
Ambitious individuals sought to incite war by exploiting public dissatisfaction with the White-Gold Concordat. Skyrim, a province where various races intermingled, showed signs of rising racism, with constant complaints. The Nords, who rejoiced at the prospect of war, yearned for a bloody outburst, yet no one considered the consequences, or perhaps, everyone was deceiving themselves into forgetting the consequences.
Why could Simon live so freely? Because he had enough to eat and drink, and sufficient power—achievements that most people found hard to attain. His peaceful and prosperous life was earned through his labor and wisdom.
Poverty is not so terrible; what's terrifying is the lack of opportunity for improvement, just like the people of Winterhold. What can people do in that place? Nothing at all. Just surviving is difficult, and no one would miss an opportunity to make money. Those toiling in the mines on the edge of the Tundra are people from Winterhold, but the mines will eventually run dry. What will become of them then?
This is a society steeped in classical heroism, where the stories of ordinary people are ignored, and poverty will continue.
Simon often wondered whether to share technology for the benefit of the masses. He, of course, hoped people would get better and better, but he was still worried about war—world development has never been separate from war, no matter the level of production, it ultimately points to a higher level of warfare.
He was not a historian or a politician; the things he had to consider were simple and self-centered.
There are many ways to resolve violence. It is a fierce tiger that can be tamed with absolute power and strict education, but it must never be released into resource-rich wilderness.
When I find the ultimate answer one day, world peace will be but a small matter.
Simon's conviction in his principles grew stronger, causing his heart's energy to surge like dense clouds flickering with thunder and fire. Something seemed to churn and brew deep within the clouds, but ultimately, it settled down.
My Way will ultimately be perfected!
...
High Hrothgar Monastery.
Jonas was still making his familiar stew. The newly appointed kitchen master, with four and a half days of practice, was about to showcase his most exquisite culinary philosophy.
The rabbit meat was defrosted, cut into pieces, blanched, skimmed of foam, then removed and cooled in ice water.
In another pot, a little soybean oil was added, followed by diced tomatoes and potatoes, pan-fried over low heat. Once the rich red juice of the tomatoes had fully spread, the rabbit meat was added, water was poured to cover the ingredients, the lid was put on, and it was brought to a boil over high heat before being simmered over low heat.
On the other side, Dilo was baking fresh bread, a family skill passed down by his mother. The well-proofed dough was placed in a preheated oven, with careful attention to the heat.
This harmonious scene was what Simon saw when he entered the council hall: two boys with faces flushed by the firelight, expressions serious, like two guardians of gourmet food.
The Troll leaned against the doorway, smiling silently, like a Class Teacher watching students diligently study from outside a window.
Jonas was the first to notice, as such a large white ball in his peripheral vision was hard to miss.
"Ah—!!!" He cheered and rushed over.
"Ah—!!!" Dilo also shouted and rushed over.
The two boys each grabbed one of Simon's arms and began to shake him vigorously. "You're finally back!" "We missed you so much!"
"Did you miss me, or the food?"
"Both! Both!" The two immediately started salivating at the memory of their teacher's table, freeing a hand to wipe their lips, trying to stop their undignified behavior.
Simon had already brought the ingredients with him before entering the Monastery, and he immediately took over the kitchen, starting to show off his skills.
In the end, it was another sumptuous meal. Jonas's stew was placed in the center, and Dilo's bread was in a bowl as the main course for everyone to take. These were made by their own hands, so they had a different meaning.
Magically, today happened to be the day the four Greybeards emerged from seclusion. They had been quite corpulent, but after a few days of seclusion, they had returned to their gaunt appearance, which greatly surprised everyone. Simon even suspected they had mastered some weight-loss Shout, as the transformation was simply too exaggerated.
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