November 1926

As November settled in, the rooms of Avebury Manor echoed with the sounds of William practicing his piano, refining the classical pieces he'd been diligently learning from the local music teacher. In between his piano practices, William would also spend hours in the library, where he stumbled upon an illustrated book on astronomy. The vast expanse of the universe and the twinkling stars captured his imagination. He began expressing a deep interest in the skies, often dragging a blanket outside after dinner to stargaze, his questions about the cosmos endless.

On Challenger's many visits to the estate, he often found himself in deep, although age-adjusted, conversations with young William. The curious boy was always eager to learn, and George, with his vast knowledge, was more than willing to impart wisdom and share stories.

George, with a gleam in his eyes, kneeled to be on William's level, "William, have you ever looked up at the night sky and wondered about those twinkling dots?"

William nodded, "They're stars."

"Correct," George beamed. "Now, apart from those stars, there's something more fascinating called the solar system. Think of it as our neighborhood in space."

He opened the book to a page showcasing an illustration of the solar system. "See this big glowing ball of fire? That's the Sun. And around it, there are nine planets, including our Earth, all revolving around it."

William looked closely, "What are the others?"

George pointed at each one, "This one closest to the sun is Mercury, followed by Venus, then our Earth. Mars, the reddish one, Jupiter, the largest, Saturn with its rings, Uranus, Neptune, and the smallest, farthest away is Pluto."

William, trying to picture it all, asked, "So many! Do people live on them?"

George replied, "As far as we know, Earth is the only one with life like us. But the universe is vast, and our solar system is just a tiny part of it."

William's gaze stayed on the illustration, "And beyond these planets?"

George continued, "Beyond our solar system, there's a vast space filled with billions of stars, possibly with their planets. All of this is part of a galaxy. And there are countless galaxies out there."

William seemed to contemplate this for a moment. "It's so... big."

George chuckled, "Indeed. And somewhere out there, in that vastness, are areas where everything, even light, gets sucked in. We call them black holes."

Feeling a bit overwhelmed yet curious, William asked, "So, with all these planets, stars, and galaxies... are we alone in the universe?"

George ruffled William's hair gently, "That, my dear boy, is a question that even the brightest minds still ponder. With such a vast universe, many of us wonder the same."

George, seeing the deep curiosity in William's eyes, said, "You know, William, there's a way you can look closer at those stars and planets."

William's eyes lit up, "How?"

George leaned in, whispering as if sharing a grand secret, "A telescope. It allows you to look at distant objects as if they were much closer."

William's face showed a mix of wonder and excitement, "Really? Can I see through one?"

George chuckled, "Well, how about this? For your next birthday, I promise to get you a telescope of your own. That way, you can explore the universe every night."

William beamed, "Really? Thank you, uncle George!" He threw his arms around the man in a heartfelt hug, already dreaming of the nights he would spend gazing up at the vast cosmos.

Later that day George, with a thoughtful expression on his face, turned to John and Marguerite and commented, "You know, it's not merely the things William knows that astonish me. It's the depth with which he understands them, the connections he makes. It's quite remarkable for someone his age."

John smiled proudly, a glint of warmth in his eyes as he looked at Marguerite. "He has an innate curiosity and an eagerness to learn. We want him to explore his potential, but it's essential that he enjoys a balanced childhood."

George leaned back in his chair, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "Balanced, yes, but with a mind like his, the sky's the limit. I'm looking forward to seeing the man he'll become. You know, at this early age, you have the unique opportunity to guide the direction he might take... I'd suggest quantum physics."

Marguerite's eyes sparkled with eagerness, "I agree, George. We must nurture his brilliant mind, expose him to challenges that stimulate his intellect. We can't let such potential go unexplored."

John, however, furrowed his brows, concern etching his features. "Marguerite, I understand the need to nurture his mind, but I want him to climb trees, scrape his knees, and make friends. I don't want him buried in books and theories at such a young age."

A hint of frustration tinged Marguerite's voice, "John, I'm not suggesting we rob him of his childhood, but we can't ignore his gifts. He needs both – a grounded upbringing and intellectual stimulation. I won't let our son's potential be wasted."

John stood up abruptly, his voice firm and resolute, "And I won't let our son lose his childhood to the insatiable appetite of academia! He deserves to play, to laugh, to live!"

Marguerite crossed her arms defensively, her voice strained but resolute, "John, his mind is like a sponge right now, soaking up everything around him. If we don't foster his intelligence, who knows what opportunities he might miss?"

John, however, shook his head adamantly, his tone edged with frustration, "Marguerite, opportunities will still be there when he's older! Why rush him into adulthood? Why can't we let him enjoy the innocence of childhood?"

George watched the back-and-forth with a concerned expression, sensing the depth of the disagreement. Marguerite shot back, the volume of her voice rising, "It's not about rushing, John! It's about making the most of his potential. I don't want to look back and regret not giving him every chance to excel!"

John's voice matched Marguerite's in intensity, "And I don't want to look back and regret stealing his childhood from him! He needs time to be a child, Marguerite, without the pressures and expectations!"

Marguerite's gaze was fiery, her stance unyielding, "And he needs a foundation, John, a foundation that will allow him to build a future where he can make the most of his gifts!"

The room was fraught with tension, the air almost crackling with the heat of the argument. George, ever the mediator, raised his hands in a calming gesture, "Let's find a middle ground here. William's happiness and well-being should be our priority. Both exploration and play have their place in shaping a child's mind and character. There's no need for you two to argue over this. We all have the boy's best interest at heart. Let's focus on finding a solution that nurtures both his mind and his spirit."

Both Marguerite and John, still glaring at each other, slowly nodded, the weight of the decision and their shared love for William reminding them of the need for compromise and balance.

John, sensing the need for a change of atmosphere, took William outside to ride a pony. The excited spark in William's eyes was enough to bring a smile back to his father's face. The two ventured out into the crisp air, the sounds of William's gleeful laughter mingling with the clopping of pony hooves.

Inside the manor, Marguerite and George remained, the atmosphere still charged with remnants of the heated conversation. Marguerite paced the room, her words flowing with a mix of frustration and concern. "You've seen it, haven't you? The way John dismisses my concerns about William's potential? Sometimes I feel he's too casual about it."

George, ever the peacemaker, replied, "I think John is just trying to ensure that William has a well-rounded experience of childhood. But I've also seen him beam with pride when William demonstrates his intelligence."

Marguerite ran a hand through her hair, frustration evident in her posture. "It's not about pride, George. I want to ensure we're giving our son the best opportunities possible. But every time I bring it up, John immediately jumps to the defense of a 'normal' childhood. As if nurturing his mind means robbing him of his innocence."

George considered her words for a moment. "Marguerite, both you and John want what's best for William. You might have different approaches, but your goals are the same. Perhaps, if you two sat down and discussed this without the heat of an argument, you could find a middle ground?"

Marguerite sighed, "Maybe you're right. I just wish he would truly listen to my concerns instead of dismissing them outright."

George smiled gently, "Give it some time. And remember, William is fortunate to have parents who care so deeply for him, even if they occasionally disagree on the methods."

When they set off George to an afternoon train Veronica and Marguerite found themsevles in the master bedroom, the soft coos and giggles of the twin baby girls filled the space as they played with them. Marguerite had a thoughtful expression on her face. Veronica glanced at her, sensing her unease, and decided to address the matter directly.

"I would naturally agree with John, of course," she said, "if it weren't for my mother's peculiar interest in William. When we left the Plateau, she asked me to observe him closely, to notice if there was anything unusual, and to report back to her upon our return. I suspect she foresaw this."

Marguerite's eyebrows knitted together, irritation flashing in her eyes. "Not the tale of magical conception in Avalon again," she muttered, almost under her breath.

Veronica, cradling one of the twins gently in her arms, looked up.. "All I'm saying is that there's something more to it, Marguerite. I'll make sure to ask my mother for more details when I see her again."

Marguerite hesitated for a moment, gazing at her other daughter. "I just... I want to be practical about this. To make decisions based on what's in front of us, not what could be or what was prophesied."

The door to the bedroom opened, and John stepped inside with William trailing behind him, a gleam of mischief in his young eyes. Without any hesitation, William ran and climbed onto the bed, hopping over to where his sisters lay.

With exaggerated slowness, he leaned over and gave each of his sisters a gentle peck on the cheek. The room was filled with delightful giggles from the twins, their tiny hands reaching out to grab at their brother's hair.

Veronica, amused by the heartwarming scene, added, "It looks like someone missed his sisters."

William nodded vigorously, cuddling closer to the twins, protective and affectionate. Marguerite, momentarily forgetting her earlier frustrations, smiled warmly, appreciating the pure joy of the moment with her family.

John settled into the armchair next to the mirror, a sigh escaping him as he observed his family on the bed. The air still buzzed with a gentle tension from their earlier disagreement, but the presence of their children and the warm atmosphere in the room started to ease it.

Marguerite met John's eyes, a hint of regret visible in hers. "John, I…" she began, her voice softer.

He raised his hand slightly, offering her a reassuring smile. "Marguerite, I know. I'm sorry. We both want what's best for William."

Marguerite nodded, reaching out her hand towards John, "And I shouldn't have let my frustration get the better of me. I know you want a balanced childhood for him."

John grasped her hand, the tension in the room dissipating, "And I understand your concerns, Marguerite. We're in this together."

Veronica, witnessing the sincere apology between the two, smiled gently, appreciating the love and understanding that bound the couple together, even through disagreements.

William, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, looked up at his parents, his eyes round and curious, "Mummy, Daddy, were you arguing?"

Marguerite pulled him into a gentle hug, "No, my love, we were discussing some things, but we've sorted it out now."

John added warmly, "We're just figuring things out, Will. But we always do it together, as a family."

The door opened again, and Malone peeked inside. "Ah, there you are... I was wondering where you lot are," he observed, a light jest in his tone as he stepped inside and surveyed the room, noting the gathered family. "Quite a gathering!"

With a friendly smile, he walked further into the room and settled himself in an armchair next to John. He casually crossed one leg over the other, creating an air of relaxed companionship.

William, with the perceptiveness of a child, looked up at his parents and said in a small voice, "I knew you were fighting because of me."

John and Marguerite exchanged glances, a mix of surprise and concern on their faces. "Oh, William," Marguerite said, reaching out to hold his hand. "It wasn't a fight, we were just discussing what's best for you. We both love you very much."

John chimed in, his tone reassuring, "Exactly, Will. We both love you very much, and sometimes we have different opinions on what's best, but we always find a way to agree in the end."

Malone, sensing the tension and always one to lighten the mood, quipped, "Arguing is just their unique expression of love, Will. You should have seen them on the Plateau."

Veronica shot Malone an annoyed glance. "That's not helping, Ned," she said, half-exasperated. "But remember, every family has its disagreements. It's how we grow stronger together."

John, observing the interactions and cherishing the moment, said softly, "I'm going to miss this, all of us together like this. It's been seven years since our fates intertwined on the Plateau, and that one year apart before you joined us here in England was the longest we've been separated. Once you return to the Plateau, there's no saying when we will meet again."

Veronica met John's gaze with understanding in her eyes. "Time and distance have a way of testing bonds, but they also have a way of strengthening them. We'll always find our way back to each other."

William's eyes shimmered with tears, his lower lip quivering just a touch. "I don't want you to go," he whispered, snuggling closer to his mother for comfort. Marguerite stroked his hair reassuringly, whispering words of comfort as the room absorbed the bittersweet truth of inevitable farewells and enduring connections.