Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The room was in chaos.

"Breathe, my lady! One more push!"

Jour Henituse barely heard them. The pain was unbearable, but she gritted her teeth and forced herself through it.

And then—

A loud, piercing cry filled the air.

"A boy!" The healer's voice trembled with relief. "A healthy boy!"

The words barely registered as exhaustion hit her like a wave. She slumped back against the pillows, gasping for air.

The healers and maids moved quickly, their voices a distant hum. Hands worked to clean the newborn, wrapping his tiny form in soft linens.

Jour blinked, her vision hazy.

Red hair. A tiny wrinkled face.

His face scrunched in displeasure as he wailed, crying as if his very life depended on it.

Her son.

A shaky breath left her lips. Relief. It was over. She had done it.

The doors burst open.

"Jour!"

Deruth Henituse rushed in, his face pale, his hands trembling. His eyes darted to the baby in the maid's arms.

"A son?" His voice cracked.

The maid smiled, bowing her head slightly. "Congratulations, my lord. A healthy baby boy."

Deruth let out a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging with relief. He stepped closer, brushing his fingertips across the baby's cheek before carefully taking him in his arms.

"He looks just like you." He murmured, his own breath shaky.

Jour smiled, wanted to respond, to tell him that their son will be strong, that everything would be okay now...

But then she saw the look on the healer's face.

Panic.

"My lady," the woman whispered, eyes wide. "You must push again."

Jour's body stiffened.

"What?"

"There's... another."

The words barely made sense.

Another?

The room spun. No, that couldn't be right. There had only been one, she had prepared for one.

She turned her head slightly, her blurred vision locking onto the healer's pale, tense face. Around the room, the other attendants shifted uneasily.

Deruth stiffened beside her. His hands, which had been reaching for her, faltered. "Jour?" His voice was soft, careful, but she could hear the shock and worry in it.

A sharp pain tore through her, snapping her back into reality.

"Breathe, my lady! Just one more time!"

Another pain surged through her body. No time to think. No time to breathe.

The room blurred, her body screaming in protest.

Jour gasped, sweat dripping down her temples as she pushed again, her strength draining with every second. Her limbs trembled, her mind hazy, but she forced herself to keep going.

Then, a second cry.

Softer. Weaker.

Quieter.

Gasps filled the room. Jour barely had the strength to lift her head, but she forced her tired eyes open. The healer carefully lifted the second baby, identical to the first.

Another boy.

Another son.

Twins.

She couldn't breathe.

"Twins!" Deruth's voice broke into laughter, full of joy. "Two sons! Jour, my love, do you see them? This is a blessing!"

She didn't respond. She couldn't.

Her heart pounded as she stared at the two infants. She couldn't tear her eyes away. One has been expected. One was supposed to exist. But this second child...

His time was warped.

A reincarnater.

Her fingers curled against the sheets, nails digging into the fabric. She felt disgusted.

Jour swallowed hard, her hands trembling as the healer placed both babies beside her. The firstborn was still crying, loud and strong. The second lay quietly, his tiny breaths soft against her skin.

Two of them.

One was her own, in soul and in everything that matters. The other, was not.

Deruth knelt beside the bed, his eyes shining. "Jour, love, they're beautiful. I—" He let out a breathless laugh. "I never imagined we'd be so lucky."

Lucky.

She wasn't sure if she could call it that.

Her hands, still weak, hovered over the second child. She hesitated, fingers trembling before finally making contact. She touched the baby's cheek. He was warm, Small, Fragile.

Perfect.

She should have been happy.

But all she felt was fear.

Chapter Text

It had been a week since he was born into this world.

And Kim Rok Soo was already tired of it.

Everything was a mess.

Well, almost everything.

The people around him were endlessly doting on him, and while that part was annoying, he wasn't about to complain. This new life? It wasn't too bad. Actually, it was better than he thought it would be. 

Being a baby was stupidly easy—sleep, eat, repeat. If this was what the gods thought would be some kind of punishment, they clearly didn't understand what he wanted out of life. slacking—that was the dream. And now he had it.

He didn't have to do anything. Ever.

And the best part? The family he'd been born into was ridiculously rich. He didn't even have to lift a finger to enjoy the luxuries of their wealth. They dressed him in soft, expensive linens, fed him when he cried, and surrounded him with all the care he could possibly ask for. It was like living in a dream where he didn't need to work a single day.

But there was more.

He wasn't the heir. No, he was the second son. That meant no responsibilities, no expectation to carry the family name or deal with any of that boring, exhausting heir nonsense. His brother? The one who'd actually have to take all that? Good luck with it. Kim Rok Soo wasn't interested in it. He'd be living the life of a rich slacker, and it was absolutely perfect.

His twin kept making those annoying, cooing noises, trying to grab his attention with ridiculously sweet smiles. He would stare at him with those big, innocent eyes and coo like he was some kind of precious treasure. And then the dumbest smile would spread across his face, like it was the funniest thing in the world. Really? Kim Rok Soo could practically feel his twin's gaze digging into him, and as much as he wanted to just roll over and ignore the constant barrage of silly smiles and giggles, he had to admit—it was kind of... cute.

Especially when the little idiot would puff up his cheeks get his attention. 

It was funny, though. His twin had no idea what he was getting into.

Kim Rok Soo was going to be a slacker, a rich slacker, and nothing was going to ruin that. He could already picture it—years of lazing around, eating good food, doing nothing at all, all while surrounded by wealth and comfort. No worries, no struggles.

He hadn't even done anything to deserve it. The gods had given him exactly what he wanted without him having to lift a finger.

...Well.. he did die for it to happen, but he's not complaining.

No one will miss him there anyway.

He could let the world bustle around him for now. He could deal with his twin's annoying coos, with the incessant attention, because at the end of the day, he had everything he needed. He didn't need anything else.

It was time for a nap.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It was strange.

It had been a while since Kim Rok Soo came into this world, and even though he couldn’t exactly pinpoint the number of days, it felt like ages. A week? Maybe two? It was hard to keep track when he was sleeping most of the time. What he did know was that time was passing slowly, like some lazy stretch of hours he wasn’t in a hurry to escape from.

What bothered him though, was something he couldn’t shake.

The maids, the ones who seemed to always be around, had mentioned something about a celebration. Apparently, his father was planning some big event to celebrate their birth.

Everyone seemed excited about it. Or at least, they talked like they were. 

But the one thing that stuck in Kim Rok Soo's lil mind was the fact that only his father came to visit, though he was asleep most of the time and never actually saw the old man's face or heard his voice but he knew he visits a lot.

Still, Kim Rok Soo had never seen his mother.

Sure, he slept most of the time, barely awake long enough to be bothered by much of anything. He wasn’t exactly searching for her, and if he was honest, he was still pretty content in his lazy little bubble. But the absence of his mother felt off. It wasn’t like she was missing. 

She was supposed to be busy, they said, preparing for whatever she had in mind. But that didn’t explain the strange, empty silence surrounding her whenever he was awake. She never looked at him the way a mother would.

No kisses. No sweet words. No loving gazes or whispered praises like he heard other mothers give to their children. His twin? That little brat was spoiled rotten, always getting kisses on his chubby cheeks, being cooed over in the most sickeningly sweet voice that Kim Rok Soo could barely stand to hear. 

He was loved—that much was obvious. His mother played with him, held him close, talked to him in that voice that made Kim Rok Soo want to gag from the sheer overload of affection. But when it came to him?

Nothing.

Not a single kiss. Not even a glance.

His mother didn’t even acknowledge him the way she did his twin. Every time she passed by his cradle, it was like he didn’t exist. She’d lean down to kiss the other baby, whispering things like, 'My precious Cale,' and 'I love you.' But Kim Rok Soo? His mother didn't even spare him a word, let alone a kiss or a smile.

The worst part?

He didn't even know his own name.

Everyone around him called him 'second young master' or 'baby,' but no one had ever told him what his actual name was. He never heard it from her lips.

It wasn’t that he cared about it. Names were overrated anyway, and he had his slacker life to focus on, not trivial things like that. But... wasn't it a little odd? Shouldn't a mother tell her child their name? Shouldn't she say it like it was the most important thing in the world?

Was he cursed to not recieve effection of a parent even in this life?

What was wrong with him? Why wasn't he even given the most basic rights of love a son gets from his own mother?

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe he was just overthinking it, but Kim Rok Soo couldn't help the thinking about it. Was he really so invisible?

Maybe being the infant that he is now messed up with his emotions, he was never one to fuss about them after all.

For now, he should just focus on the important things: Sleeping. Eating. living.

It was time for a nap again.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It had been one of those quiet days where everything felt peaceful, and Kim Rok Soo was barely holding onto consciousness. His tiny body was resting beside Cale, who was still full of life and energy, kicking his legs and making the cutest little cooing noisez. 

Kim Rok Soo didn’t mind though—he wasn't in the mood to do anything. He was just content to lie there, watching his twin entertain himself with his own little world.

Cale's round eyes focused on his own tiny hands as he wiggled his fingers, smiling as though he discovered some grand secret of the universe. Kim Rok Soo couldn't help but stare at him, admiring how effortlessly adorable his twin was. If you weren't so loud, I'd be a bit more fond of you, he thought, a little lazy grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Cale's giggle rang out, and he felt his heart soften. But mostly, he just wanted to go back to sleep.

He rolled over slightly, resting his head on the soft cushion, blinking slowly, ready to sleep.

When suddenly, he heard a voice. It wasn't the maids or anyone else, but the soft, warm voice of the woman who had been so distant up until now.

"Oh, my babies, so cute today."

Kim Rok Soo blinked again, his sleepy mind sluggishly processing the words as his mother approached. He had never been called to or even looked at like this before. Her gaze was focused on Cale, of course—no surprise there. She picked him up without hesitation, her arms holding him with affection as she pressed kisses to his tiny face.

And then… she turned to him.

The moment stretched in an odd way, for the first time, she reached toward him. A soft, gentle hand outstretched, and her smile was a little warmer than it had ever been.

But he felt nothing close to joy. Something felt wrong. It wasn't that he didn't want her attention. It was the way she looked at him—it was as if she was trying to convince herself more than him.

"Come here, little one," she cooed, her voice sweet but distant. "It's time for some bonding time, hm?"

The maids looked on with smiles, one of them whispering quietly, "The madam will take the second young master out today for the charity event! Such a lovely idea, my lady!"

Jour was visiting villages these days, doing charity work to celebrate their birth, which was one of the reasons why she wasn't around much.

Kim Rok Soo's gaze remained fixed on her, watching as she held out her arms in a gesture meant to seem welcoming. She didn't call him by his name—she never did. It didn’t even matter. He knew what this meant.

He wasn't stupid.

She was going to take him out for some 'mother and son' bonding time, but it wasn't because she cared about him. It wasn't real affection. No, she'd show him off, parade him around for whatever reason, and then…

And then, just like everyone else, she'll vanish.

Kim Rok Soo's tiny hands balled into fists at his sides, but he made no sound, no protest. There was nothing he could do.

His mother, completely oblivious to his thoughts, smiled at him—perhaps thinking this was enough. She scooped him into her arms, her touch gentle, and for a moment, he could have almost believed she cared. Almost.

But he didn’t believe it.

He lay there in her embrace, his eyes slightly closed, trying to shut out the world for just a little longer. Yeah, whatever. It's just like before. I'll deal with it when it happens, he thought, sinking into the safety of his mind. It didn’t matter. Not yet, anyway.

She would leave him. And he would be just fine with that.

Chapter Text

The Half-Blood Dragon sat on a stone wall at the edge of the village, absently flipping a small rock between his fingers. The sun was out, the air was warm, and he was so done with this place.

He had been here for a month. A whole month of walking the same dirt roads, listening to the same villagers talk about their crops, and waiting for something—anything—to happen. But there was nothing. Just a bunch of regular people living regular lives.

His mission was pointless.

With a sigh, he let his gaze wander toward the village square. That's when he saw her.

The red-haired noble.

She had been coming here for weeks now, sometimes alone, other timez with a maid. She'll walk in, talk to the villagers, smile, laugh, hand out little gifts sometimes. At first, he ignored it—nobles did whatever they wanted, and it wasn't his problem.

But after a while, he started noticing things.

She wasn't just visiting. She knew these people. Asked about their families, remembered details from past conversations. She wasn't awkward or stiff like most people trying to play kind—she actually blended in.

That wasn't normal.

Especiallly from a noble.

Still, he wasn't suspicious enough to care, but… something was off about it all.

He rubbed his temple. If it weren’t for his liege's orders, he wouldn't give her a second thought. But the White Star had been very clear about his orders, any redhead must be reported.

Tch.

He didn't want to report her. Not because he cared, but because it meant getting involved. He just wanted to return to his place. This village was dull, the people were dull, and if he had to spend another week here, he was going to lose his mind.

But… he also couldn't go back empty-handed.

The White Star didn't like failure.

So, fine. He'd report her.

Whether she was important or not wasn't his problem. He just needed to give something so he could finally leave.

With a stretch, he stood up, casting one last glance toward the noblewoman. She was crouching down, ruffling some kid's hair, smiling as she spoke to him.

She looked normal. Friendly. Harmless.

But whatever. Not his problem.

He turned away, hands in his pockets.

Boring mission. Boring village. At least it was over.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It was a quiet ride.

The carriage rumbled along the dirt road, the steady hum of wheels filling the silence.

Kim Rok Soo lay in his mother's arms, he almost wanting to laugh. Almost.

Her arms were around him, but it didn't matter. Her touch wasn't warm, it was just... there?

If she had to try this hard to fake it, then what was even the point?

"You're so quiet today," she murmured, her voice soft, but Kim Rok Soo could tell it was empty. He could hear it. The hollowness in her words. "Such a good baby."

Kim Rok Soo didn't react. There was nothing to react to.

What was the point?

He was tired.

A silly, slacker life. That was all he wanted. But the gods or fate or whatever seemed to have had an issue with that.

They already threw him into this mess once. What else could they do?

Actually, don’t answer that.

His gaze remained fixed outside the carriage window, where the world blurred past in dull greens and browns. The outline of a village was growing clearer.

Kim Rok Soo couldn't help but think of Cale. The little brat, puffing up his cheeks and making all those ridiculous cooing noises just to get attention. He couldn't help it. His twin was cute, and it was... annoying, in the kind of way that made him want to roll his eyes but also want to pinch his chubby little cheeks.

Cale was... his first brother. He had to admit, he'd miss the little guy. Even if he'd never say it out loud.

His mother kept talking, but Kim Rok Soo didn't pay her any attention. What was there to say? She was just filling the silence, trying to convince herself that she was doing something right.

"You'll be safe here, won't you?" she said softly. The words weren't for him. They were for herself. Her arms tightened around him, just for a moment. Not out of love, not out of regret. Just hesitation.

But that wasn’t enough to change anything.

She was abandoning him. He knew that much.

The village was close now. The houses were small, humble structures scattered along the dirt paths. He could see a few villagers moving about, minding thier own business.

The perfect place to leave a child behind.

The carriage slowed. Then stopped.

Jour shifted, adjusting her grip on him as she opened the door and stepped out. She kept her head low, as if hiding her face would make it easier.

Kim Rok Soo remained silent as she cradled him closer, hiding him. She took him toward a house at the edge of the village, far enough away from the people so no one would notice. A place where no one would ask questions.

The world blurred around him, but his thoughts stayed the same.

But as they reached the small house, a thought lingered in the back of his mind.

Maybe, just maybe, in the future, when he was older, when he wasn't just a tiny baby, he might—just might—check on Cale. He'll never admit it out loud, of course. But maybe, he'll search. Not to be found—just to watch from a distance. Just to make sure Cale was fine.

After all, Cale is his brother.

Even if Cale forgets about him.

He closed his eyes, his tiny fingers curling slightly.

Suddenly, he was moved. 

Kim Rok Soo stared up at his mother, who was crouched down, her cold hands settling him into a... basket? Her touch wasn't soft, didn't have any warmth to it—like he wasn't even her child

He didn't make a fuss, of course. What was the point? She wasn’t looking at him anyway.

Her hands trembled just a little, but she didn't say anything as his gaze stayed locked on her.

His mother.

Jour.

Kim Rok Soo barely made a sound. A soft, almost inaudible Mmm slipped from his lips, but it was nothing. Just an involuntary noise, a little whimper.

Jour looked down at him, just for a second. Her eyes barely met his. There was nothing in them. No warmth, no love. 

She didn't say a word.

Then, she turned and walked away.

He watched her leave, he kept watching her figure until it was invisible to him.

Kim Rok Soo felt dazed, it happened so fast...that he just relized what happened..

She actually done it.

She's gone. She left me here.

Without a single word.

His little hands twitched, his fingers curling around the fabric of the blanket and something in him... cracked. The emotions that had been building up in his chest that he hid so carefully, even from himself, started to spill over, he didn't even notice the tears that now blured his vision. 

It was too much to keep locked away. His breath hitched slightly, but he didn't cry. Kim Rok Soo wouldn't cry. He couldn't cry.. not over someone who abandoned him.

Even if she was the first mother that had held him in all his lives.

His mind circled the thought. It couldn’t settle, couldn’t catch up to the fact that he was abandoned once more even though he was awfully aware of that fact. But the more he thought about it, the more his mind just... emptied out.

I'm alone.

Kim Rok Soo blinked, his gaze drifting over the empty path she had taken, but he wasn’t really seeing it.

Everything was just... quiet. Empty. And that was fine. Maybe, just maybe, it was all he had ever really wanted.

He didn't have to worry about anything

Well...maybe surviving but that's something he's already used and live through before.

He didn't know how long he would be here, didn't know what would happen next. But for now, this felt like... freedom? If anything the kind of freedom that only someone who had been abandoned could understand.

Kim Rok Soo let out a soft breath, his small chest rising and falling in time with the rhythm of his thoughts. Slowly, he relaxed, the tension that had been building inside him over the past few minutes beginning to melt away.

He's back to himself again.

Nothing mattered now. He didn’t have to be anything other than what he was; a nameless child, yes, but one who had already learned how to survive alone. And somehow, that made everything feel a little bit better.

His eyelids fluttered shut, the faintest hum of sleep pulling him under. For now, all he wanted was to rest.

When he opened his eyes a second later, there was a man in front of him.

The man's hair was a red, just like his. Same eye color too. He was wearing a white mask. A part of his face was covered, but Kim Rok Soo couldn’t care less about that.

How did he suddenly appear like that? was he there all along and Kim Rok Soo wasn't paying attention?

The stranger didn't seem to care why Kim Rok Soo was left there. In fact, he didn't seem to care about much of anything.

He just kept looking at him.

Kim Rok Soo let out a soft little noise. "Waa," he mumbled like the infant that he is. His baby brain already starting to go fuzzy from the exhaustion. He reached out instinctively, his tiny hand stretching toward the man's face. It wasn't like he knew what he was doing. His little fingers just wanted to touch the red hair, the same colour of the woman that abandoned him.

The man didn't move away. In fact, he did something strange. He lowered his face closer to Kim Rok Soo's, and Kim Rok Soo's tiny hand brushed against his face.

"Hmm," the man hummed, the sound low and calm. His voice didn’t hold any real emotion, just... neutral. "Curious little thing, aren't you?"

Kim Rok Soo didn't quite pay attention on what the man was saying. He was so tired. His little eyes drooped again, his tiny body already giving in to the need for rest. The last few hours had been too much, he was just thrown from being a rich young master to an orphan alright?

The man stared at him for a moment longer, before reaching down and picking him up carefully. It was a slow motion, almost mechanical, but there was a gentleness to it.

Kim Rok Soo felt his body shift as the man cradled him. He didn't know why, but there was something about the man's arms that made him feel... okay. He didn't feel safe, necessarily. He didn't feel happy. But it was different than when Jour had held him.

There was feeling of warmth, no feeling of rejection. Just... neutral. 

Something he never felt before.

He yawned, his tiny body still unsure of everything that was happening. But before he knew it, he was drifting off again.

Everything around him became a dull, blurry noise. The man's voice murmured something again, but it didn't matter.

He didn’t know who the man was. He doesn't even know if he should trust him.  

Even with the bloody appearence the man had that honestly? Kim Rok Soo chose to ignore at this point. 

He will nap first then think of that later.

Who will harm a baby anyway?

Kim Rok Soo closed his eyes and let sleep take over.

Chapter Text

WAAAHHH!

The high-pitched wail of a very upset tiny baby shattered the peaceful day at the Henituse estate.

Deruth Henituse, Count of the territory, rushed into his son's nursery like a man on a mission, his face twisted in panic, fearing the worse. The door burst open with a loud bang, and several maids scrambled to adjust the tiny, flailing baby in the crib.

"Cale!!" 

"My Lord!" one of the maids exclaimed, bowing quickly before turning back to the angry baby. "Young Master Cale has been crying for a while, but nothing seems to calm him down!"

WAAAHH! WAAAHH!

Cale's cries were loud enough to echo down the hall, his tiny face scrunched up in pure fury. His lil fists flailed about in the air dramaticly like he was trying to punch someone, and his legs kicked in frustration.

Deruth's smile twisted at the sound. He rushed forward, quickly scooping up the red-faced baby, cradling him carefully in his arms. "Cale, it's okay, it's okay…" he murmured, trying to soothe him, but the baby's wailing only grew louder.

WAAAHHHH!!!

The small fists hit Deruth's chest, and Cale's tiny body shook with outrage. Deruth winced, but didn't let it show, bouncing the baby in his arms with a gentle motion. "Shh, shh… Cale, please, you've got to calm down," he said softly.

But our Cale wasn't having it. He screamed louder, his face now a shade of red that matched his tiny, furious lil fists. WAAAHHH!

Deruth sighed, glancing over at the maids.  "Where is Jour?" he asked, eyes scanned the room, but there was no sign of his wife.

One of the maids stepped forward nervously. "My Lord, My Lady left early this morning, taking the second young master with her."

Deruth's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Took Callis?" he repeated, looking around the room for his younger son. 

The crib was empty.

"Yes, my Lord," the maid confirmed quickly. "She's gone to a village for charity work, as she does often, and decided to take... the second young master with her today."

WAAAHHHH!!!

Cale's wail was suddenly much louder, as though the baby were personally offended by this information. His tiny body wriggled, and he let out a few frustrated sobs, his little fists punching the air again.

Deruth blinked, processing the information. "So, Jour took Callis, but left Cale behind?" His voice held an amused edge now, though he was trying to be serious. He looked down at Cale, who was still absolutely furious.

The maids exchanged uncomfortable looks but said nothing.

"So, let me get this straight," Deruth said, raising an eyebrow. "Jour took Callis with her, but you, love, got left behind?"

Cale hiccupped mid-sob and shook his fists in frustration.

"If that's not the reason, then.." Deruth muttered, just testing the waters. "Miss your mother?"

Cale didn’t react. crying like it's everyone's problem now.

Deruth mused, "Alright then, maybe it's not that. What about... Callis?"

Instantly, Cale stopped crying mid-sob. His tiny head jerked up, his wide, tear-streaked eyes locking onto Deruth's face. The sound of the name seemed to instantly grab his attention. His tiny fists clenched in the air as if reaching out for his baby brother.

"Callis?" Deruth said again, holding his son a little higher, surprised at the immediate shift. "You miss your brother, huh?"

Cale's little lips puckered into a tiny frown, and he let out an exaggerated whimper before going back to his full-blown wail.

It was as though his world had ended because Callis wasn't there.

"Alright, alright! So it's Callis you want,” Deruth chuckled, looking down at his son. "Not your mother, not your food, but Callis. Got it."

Cale's arms flailed even more energetically, like he was demanding his twin brother back at once.

"If that's what my baby wants." Deruth said, bouncing Cale lightly in his arms. "I promise, you'll see Callis soon enough, you just have to be patient."

Cale, in his own silly cute way,calmed down and seemed to nod off, still sniffling but no longer sobbing. He curled up against his father’s chest with a little yawn.

"There we go,"Deruth whispered with a soft laugh. "You two really are inseparable already. Maybe next time, Jour can take both of you. If that's the way we're doing things now."

Cale gave a tiny snore in response, clearly done with all his father's nonesense .

He just wantz his brother back

Was that really difficult to ask for? 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Night had fallen, but Deruth couldn't rest.

He sat in his office, fingers tapping against the desk. His wife and youngest son were still not back.

Jour had done this before—getting caught up with her charity work, spending too much time with the villagers, losing track of the hours. It happened often enough that he wasn't usually concerned. But tonight felt different.

This time, Callis was with her.

Maybe she just stayed a little longer than usual, maybe Callis was asleep, and she didn't want to wake him for the ride back. That seemed reasonable. He was just a baby, after all. A few hours more wouldn't be the worst thing.

But why did it still feel wrong?

The longer he sat there, the worse it seemed. The emptiness in the office was louder now. His eyes kept flicking to the door, expecting it to swing open with Jour and Callis coming back. But it stayed still.

A knock pulled him out of his thoughts.

It was quick, then a second, louder knock..

"My lord."

The door opened quietly, and Ron stepped inside. His expression was calm as always. 

Deruth didn't look up immediately. He continued tapping his fingers against the desk. "Any word on them?"

Ron's gaze flicked to the desk before returning to Deruth. His voice remained even. "The search party has returned, my lord. They found nothing. No sign of the madam or the second young master yet."

Deruth's hands clenched. His chest felt tight. He had tried—tried so hard—to reason with himself, to tell himself that Jour was just running late,

But she wasn't back.

And his son—

Deruth swallowed hard, his throat dry. "Send them out again. Tell them to check every corner, every village, every—"

The door slammed open.

A maid rushed inside, her dress in disarray, her breath ragged. Her face was pale, streaked with tears, her hands trembling as she collapsed into a deep bow.

Deruth's heart dropped to his stomach.

"My lord—!" she choked, barely able to get the words out.

He felt a shard pulse of fear, he grabbed the edge of his desk, trying to steady himself as the world tilted beneath him. "What is it?" His voice cracked.

The maid struggled to speak, her voice breaking with each syllable. "The madam—she's been found, my lord—"

Relief flared in his heart for a fleeting second.

Then she continued.

"She’s dead."

...

..

.

'What?'

No, no, no.

"W-What?" Deruth's voice was small, trembling "Jour... she can't be. It must be a mistake. She's... she's..."

"S-she ...," the maid sobbed into her hands. "They found her in the woods. Her throat—" she gagged on her own words. "It was slashed."

A cold, piercing pain shot through his chest.

Jour.

His wife.

His stomach twisted, and a shuddering breath left him as his vision swam. His hands trembled. He felt like he was suffocating.

"No… She was—she just went to the village. She was just—" His voice broke. He couldn't finish the sentence.

The maid's voice wavered. "A-And… the second young master…"

A fresh wave of panic crashed over him.

Deruth's breath hitched.

No.

"He wasn't w-with her. H-He’s missing."

Something in him shattered. A broken, strangled sound left his throat—one he barely recognized as his own. His knees nearly gave out, but he staggered forward, clutching the desk like it was the only thing keeping him from losing his sanity.

"No. No, no, no, no—" His voice was shaking. "Send—send another search party—bring everyone back—find him! Now!" His panic was spilling out in sharp, frantic words, his chest rising and falling too fast. 

"He's just a baby! My baby! He—he—"

Ron moved before anyone else.

"I will handle it," he said firmly, meeting Deruth's panicked gaze.

"Ron—"

"I will find him." Ron repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Deruth couldn't think straight. His mind was spiraling, drowning in a haze of fear and grief. He needed to see his son—he needed to see Cale, the only piece left of her.

Of both of them.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

White Star stepped into his castle in Endable Kingdom, the air still humming with leftover magic. In his arms, a tiny red-haired baby slept soundly, completely unaware of the world around him.

Fredo was already there, leaning against a pillar. His sharp eyes flicked from White Star to the baby, then back again. He stared, silent.

Then, with a slow tilt of his head, he finally spoke.

"…Who's this?"

White Star didn't answer right away. He shifted the baby slightly in his arms, his fingers brushing against the soft, round cheek. The baby barely stirred, just nuzzled into the warmth. White Star let out a quiet chuckle, the corner of his lips curling up for a fraction of a second before it returned neutral.

"My son."

Silence.

Fredo's expression didn't change, but his eyes moved between White Star and the baby. His fingers twitched slightly before he exhaled.

"Your son."

A beat passed.

"I see."

White Star said nothing more, and Fredo didn't push. Instead, his gaze lingered on the baby, a strange glint in his eyes.

"…I should probably prepare tea."

Chapter Text

The White Star felt that today was one of the more interesting days of his numerous, endless lives.

He sat at his desk in his office, the soft silence of the room stretching around him, broken only by the quiet breathing of the tiny red-haired baby in his arms.

The infant, slept soundly, his small form nestled against White Star's chest. The weight of the child was strange.

'Were all human infants this... fragile?'

The baby's small body barely shifted, but White Star felt every subtle movement. The soft rise and fall of his chest against his own was a strange thing to be aware of. 

White Star's thoughts lingered as his eyes traced the soft curves of Callis's face. 

He couldn't remember the last time he had felt it.

His hand gently unconsciously brushed over the infant's cheek, feeling the warmth of soft, delicate skin.

The boy stirred briefly, a small sigh escaping his lips, and White Star found his gaze lingering longer than usual, his gaze narrowed. 'This is... unusual.'

He let his fingers trail over his neck, so vulnerable. The pulse that throbbed under his fingers was steady, fragile, and it reminded the White Star of how easily it could be silenced. One quick motion. One snap.

'This neck... I could break it in an instant,' he thought, his fingers curling slightly as they grazed the baby's skin.

He resisted the urge to break the fragile neck beneath his fingertips. Not because he cared. No, that wasn't it. He didn't care about the life of a human child. He could take it or leave it—and usually, he would take it. But there was something compelling about this moment. Something… new.

'What am I doing?'

White Star paused, the thought settling in his mind. He knew better. He was never supposed to feel anything. Not for anyone. Not for this child.

But this was different.

The sealed god had told him, long ago. A red head will mark his fate.

The white star knew better than to dismiss it, so he searched, hunted, and killed every redhead on sight, of course, ignoring the fact that he himself was one.

And now, here he is.

He looked down at the baby once again. Callis.

It felt strange thinking of it. The name lingered in his mind, he thought of how the woman whispered it in her final moments.

She had tried to reach for him in her final moments, her bloodied hand stretching toward the child she had never wanted.

It was pathetic.

She had begged for mercy, pleaded with her last breath, but he had been merciless. He had shown her no pity. His sword had sliced through her without hesitation, cutting her down like the waste she was.

White Star's lips curled, her suffering had been an amusing thing to watch. It had been a fitting end for someone who had so easily discarded her own flesh and blood thought she had something that made her useful—she possessed an ancient power, a wood affinity.

The rings of life, she had called it after forcing her to share all the information she had of it. It's something that allowed her to see the life rings within others, like a life of a tree. The power was fascinating—it would prove useful

The White Star didn't need to think twice. The moment he had saw of the warped nature of Callis, he knew—this child was no ordinary infant. And the fact that the child's presence alone effected the curse, He had to own him.

The boy shifted in his sleep, and White Star's gaze softened, just slightly, before his lips parted to taste the name.

"Callis."

The name felt strange, like something that should be irrelevant to him, but for some odd reason, something told him to memorize it. 'Why does it feel so important?' he thought, tasting it again.

"Callis."

The baby moved, a tiny, soft noise escaping his lips, and White Star's gaze fixated on the small thing in his arms. The boy made a soft sound, cooing in his sleep, his small hands curling into delicate fists. 

For a moment, White Star felt something strange in his chest. His fingers lightly traced Callis's cheek again, and the baby responded with a soft sigh. A small smile tugged at White Star's lips, though he didn't know why. 

'Cute', he thought, watching as Callis's lips parted in a yawn.

It was ridiculous, this little creature, barely more than a few weeks old, was somehow managing to make him feel… something. White Star couldn't begin to explain it. It was nothing, he was sure of it. It didn’t matter. Not now.

He chuckled darkly, the sound soft, almost amused. It doesn't matter now. This child was his. His son now, and he would make sure of it. No one could take him from him. Not even his own blood.

Even if he had no idea how to take care of a human infant. But that didn't matter. 'I'll figure it out', White Star thought, his hand brushing over the boy's red hair that matched his own. He could figure anything out.

He's the White Star after all.

A smile crept across his lips, not out of joy or warmth, but of amusement. 'Yes,' he thought, 'I’ll be the best at this. The best father his son could ever have.'

Make sure he'll never leave.

Just when he was deep into his crazy crazy thoughts,  the door to his office swung open without warning.

Fredo strolled in with a cup of tea in hand, glancing over at the White Star holding a baby carefully in his arm. He didn’t even bat an eye at the sight, he had seen more crazier things.

Plus, he'd already gotten over it earlier.

:...Well, well," Fredo sat down, mused, taking a sip of his tea, "this is... unexpected."

White Star didn't look up. He just adjusted the baby in his arms with that same cool, unbothered expression. "What do you want, Fredo?" His voice was smooth, a little cold—but mostly, it just had that 'I could kill you at any moment' vibe.

Fredo smiled into his cup, barely able to hide the amusement in his eyes. He knew well enough that White Star's threats were never empty, but that didn't stop him from enjoying the rare moments when his liege was in a mood like this.

"Just wanted to see how you're handling fatherhood," Fredo replied casually. "I have to say, I never thought I'd see the day when you, of all people, would be holding a baby."

As if on cue, Callis, nestled against White Star's chest, made a soft, irritated noise. His little face scrunched up in annoyance, a quiet huff escaping him. He didn't open his eyes, but the meaning was clear.

Fredo blinked, caught off guard by the sound. He paused for a moment, then smirked, leaning in a little. "Oh? Did I wake you up, lil highness?" He chuckled softly.

Callis, still sleeping, gave another quiet noise, a little grumble, his tiny hands clenching as if trying to communicate his displeasure with Fredo's mere presence.

Fredo's amusement only grew. "He's got your attitude already, huh?" he chuckled, clearly entertained.

But White Star's expression only grew worse. The air in the room seemed to shift subtly, growing heavier with each sound Callis made. White Star’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and his grip on the baby tightened just a fraction.

"Fredo," White Star's voice dropped low. "If you make another sound, I'll kill you."

Fredo blinked, genuinely surprised at how calm White Star was while holding that death threat. It was almost impressive.

He usually kills on sight,for less than this.

"Alright, alright," Fredo sighed dramatically, standing up. He waved his hand dismissively, still fighting off a grin. "Guess I'll let you get back to... whatever this is." He gave a short, playful wave at the sleeping baby, his tone a touch more lighthearted. "I'll gladly offer parenting advice whenever you need your excellency."

"Get out."

Fredo rushed out of the room, closing the door behind him. he couldn't help but let a sly grin tug at the corner of his lips. 

'Well, this is going to be fun.'

Chapter Text

Kim Rok Soo—or whatever the heck he was called in this life—woke up feeling... confused.

Actually, that was an understatement.

He woke up feeling downright baffled!

His eyes fluttered open to a new world. He didn't recognize anything. It wasn't a place he had seen before, nor was there any sign of his previous life.

All he knew was that he had been abandoned by his m—Jour, the woman who had never bothered to even name him—and now he found himself here.

Whatever 'here' was.

The place he woke up in looked too luxurious to be real. He blinked, groggily looking around at the soft, pillowy cushion he was lying on. Was this a bed? No—this was a throne for someone who had money and taste, clearly.

It was even more laxurious than his previous home.

Still, he tried to focus through the haze of his baby brain, his little hands flailing a bit. Where was he?

Kim Rok Soo frowned. No, scratch that. He couldn't frown, he was a baby. But inside, his mind was doing backflips trying to process what in the world had happened.

Looking at his surroundings, he stated his first factz straight. This room was ridiculous. Who even decorates like this?

Rich people, he guessed.

He tried to sit up, but, naturally, that didn't go as planned. He ended up just rolling over, his tiny body giving in to the softness of the pillows around him, letting out a tiny grunt. He wasn't too upset, this bed was insanely comfy, but he was confused.

'How... did I get here?'  

Kim Rok Soo cursed under his breath, even though, you know, it was mostly just baby noises. Gods, what did I to deserve this?

Wait.

He remembered.

Him.

A flash of red hair, the feeling of being carried away somewhere. The cold air. The strange man's warm touch. That had to be the reason why he's here.

Some rich stranger had picked him up. No, not even picked him up. Kidnapped him.

Huh.

Kidnapped, Kim Rok Soo thought in his head. His baby lips didn't move, but his brain was definitely vocal about it. That should've been a record.

But, as the thought sank in, his mind went into full slacker mode.

'Wait. Hold up. If I'm stuck like this, it's not so bad...'

He tried to sit up again, but his lil body wasn't cooperating. He just wobbled and rolled back onto the pile of pillows. Okay, no more trying that.

Kim Rok Soo stared at a shiny gold ornament nearby, letting out an adorable sigh. 'Look at this place. It's practically made for me.'

But then something else crossed his mind. His twin. Cale. was he wondering where he was?

He didn't care much—Cale was probably fine. But it did cross his mind for a second, just a second. Maybe that little guy missed him. Maybe he didn't. Whatever. It didn't matter right now. 

What mattered, however, was that he was starving.

It wasn't like he was going to cry about it or anything. He could hold back. He was an adult in a baby;s body, after all. Big deal. It was just hunger. No biggie.

But then his stomach let out a loud, grumbling protest, and Kim Rok Soo winced. Okay, maybe it's a big deal.

His little hands balled into fists as he tried to hold back the wail that was building up in his throat. He wasn't about to cry like some helpless baby. But no matter how much he tried to fight it, his body had other ideas. His stomach was empty, and it was making that very clear. 

His eyes watered as he held his breath, trying to swallow the tears.

'Damn it', he thought, 'I can't even stop this'.

Just as the first sob broke free from his tiny lips, the door creaked open.

And there, standing in the doorway, was the man he had seen the day before. The red-haired man. The one who had absolutely kidnapped him.

Kim Rok Soo blinked, eyes still a bit wet. He wasn't sure if he should feel relieved or annoyed. Probably both. The guy had the audacity to show up right when he was on the verge of throwing a fit.

The man paused in the doorway, his eyes locking onto Kim Rok Soo. He wasn't exactly in a rush, his posture stiff as if he wasn't sure how to approach this... situation. Kim Rok Soo stared right back at him, his little face scrunched up in frustration.

The man was something else.

Red hair reached his shoulders in messy waves, a stark contrast against his pale, almost ghostly complexion. His red eyes glowed behind the white mask covering half of his face.

The guy was dressed... uh casually? A loose, dark shirt with a deep neckline that showed off his chest in a way that made Kim Rok Soo think he might be more into comfort than looking proper. Honestly, if the guy had any sense of fashion, he had yet to show it, but who was he to judge?

The man stepped forward slowly, still staring down at him, his posture awkward, like he was still figuring out how to exist around an infant. It was clear he had never been in a baby's presence before, and it was honestly kind of hilarious.

"...You're awake," he said flatly, his voice so deep it almost didn't match his awkwardness.

Kim Rok Soo resisted the urge to roll his eyes. No shit, Sherlock. How else would I be staring at you?

The man stood there for what felt like an eternity, his gaze flickering... nervously? over the baby. He shifted uncomfortably, eyeing the bottle of milk sitting on the table.

"... you need something?" he muttered to himself, clearly out of his comfort zone.

Kim Rok Soo couldn't help it—he let out an exaggerated sigh. 

Finally, after what seemed like an internal battle, the guy took a deep breath and walked over, awkwardly grabbing the bottle of milk. He held it out to Kim Rok Soo like it was some sort of sacred offering.

"Here. Drink this," the man said in a tone that suggested he was not only unsure but was also doing this entirely on autopilot.

While also keeping a straight, blank face.

Kim Rok Soo stared at the bottle of milk. He wasn't about to make this more awkward. So, without any hesitation, he opened his mouth and let the bottle touch his lips.

This was good. It was warm, tasty, and, for once, the guy was actually doing something right. For a moment, Kim Rok Soo thought about how strange it was that he was in this bizarre world, reincarnated and with this random person feeding him. But honestly, it was fine. It wasn't the worst thing that could happen.

He drank, and the man—still standing there, arms clasped behind his back—didn't look like he was going to say anything. Kim Rok Soo could practically feel the guy's internal struggle, but the guy just stood there, blank as ever.

And then Kim Rok Soo caught it.

The guy's posture was... different. Subtle, but it was there.

Oh. This guy's actually proud of himself, huh?

Kim Rok Soo felt a slight, dry smirk tug at his lips. For a guy who acted so composed, he sure was enjoying the fact that Kim Rok Soo was drinking the milk.

It was kind of hilarious.

Well, if he was going to be stuck with this guy, might as well make the best of it.

So, after finishing the bottle of milk, he looked up at the guy and, with all the charm a baby could muster, gave him a wide, toothless grin. It was probably the most adorable thing he'd ever done in his entire life, and the kind of smile that made people melt.

Kim Rok Soo even threw in a little coo for good measure.

The man froze.

His eyes widened ever so slightly, and Kim Rok Soo could practically see the inner conflict written all over his face. Did this guy not recieve a smile before?

For a second, the red-haired man didn't know what to do, his expression still as unreadable as ever. But Kim Rok Soo noticed his posture loosen just a bit, the tiniest glimmer of something that could have been—was it?—relief?

Or maybe it was just confusion. It was hard to tell.

The man cleared his throat awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh... you did well," he muttered, his voice still deep but far less formal than before.

Kim Rok Soo just blinked up at him innocently, giving another tiny, adorable little smile, like he was actually enjoying being here. Which, to be fair, wasn't the worst thing in the world right now.

Maybe this guy would come in handy after all. He was clearly unsure of what he was doing, but hey, Kim Rok Soo wasn't about to complain. The more clueless this man was, the easier it was to scam him.

Suddenly, he blinked as he found himself lifted off the ridiculously soft pillows and into the air. His tiny body dangled for a second before he was gently pressed against the man's bare chest, one large hand supporting his back while the other awkwardly patted his tiny frame.

…Oh.

Kim Rok Soo didn't fight it. If anything, he just accepted his fate. He knew exactly what this was—this guy was trying to make him burp.

It should have been humiliating. Maybe it was. But honestly? He had no energy to care. If this guy wanted to pat his back like some fragile little thing, fine. He was warm, and for someone who had been abandoned in the cold and was rarely held by an adult—Minus the weird maids— warmth was a luxury he wasn't about to turn away.

So he did what any self-respecting, future rich slacker would do—he let the guy do whatever.

A small sound escaped his lips, something between a sleepy hum and a sigh. It was barely noticeable, just a soft little haaa, but the way the man stiffened told Kim Rok Soo that he had, in fact, heard it.

Oh? Was this guy weak to baby noisez?

Kim Rok Soo tested it out again, letting out another small 'wuuu,' this time dragging it out just a little.

The man's hand hesitated on his back.

Oh-ho. Interesting.

Kim Rok Soo didn't have much to work with here—he was a baby, after all—but if this guy was that easy to deal with, then maybe this new life wouldn't be so bad.

He relaxed into the man's hold, letting himself be supported, his little body instinctively curling against him. It was quiet, save for the soft, rhythmic pats against his back.

…Honestly? This wasn't so bad.

It felt nice.

Just as he was beginning to get comfortable, the door suddenly creaked open.

A new figure entered.

Kim Rok Soo, still comfortably pressed against the man's chest, peeked over with curious eyes.

Oh.

This guy was shiny.

He stepped inside, a wide smile on his face as he carried a ridiculously large, wrapped gift. His long white hair framed his pale face, and his sharp purple eyes gleamed with amusement. He looked effortlessly elegant.

And then—he bowed.

"Your Excellency," he greeted smoothly.

Kim Rok Soo blinked.

…Handsome.

Honestly, if Kim Rok Soo had to rate him, he'd give him a solid ten out of ten for aesthetic appeal alone.

But that wasn't the important part.

The important part was that he had just bowed to this guy.

Kim Rok Soo shifted slightly, now curious. He couldn't see the red-haired man's expression from his current position, but judging by the tension in his body, he was not happy about this guest.

"Fredo," the man finally said, his tone flat, edged with quiet irritation. "Why are you here?"

Fredo straightened, still smiling. "I wanted to meet the newest addition to the family." He glanced at Kim Rok Soo, his gaze softening.

"Lil highness," he greeted. "I'm glad to see you awake this time."

Kim Rok Soo, still nestled comfortably in White Star's arms, cooed softly, lifting his tiny arm toward the man who greeted him. Honestly? Kim Rok Soo didn't see any harm in it. The guy was pretty handsome and looks rich enough, and if he could get someone like that to fall for his cuteness, it'd be easier to scam him!

Besides, who could resist a baby this adorable? Certainly not Fredo, who was already looking at him with such soft eyes.

Fredo couldn't hold back a smile as he approached slightly to get closer. His eyes softened when they met Kim Rok Soo's reddish-brown ones.

"He looks exactly like you," Fredo said, his voice filled with awe as he admired the baby. 

White Star's response was swift, and the pride in his voice was barely hidden. "Of course he looks like me. He's my son."

Kim Rok Soo blinked at the word son that White Star casually tossed out. His tiny fingers froze midair. Son? 

He glanced up at the man, still pressed comfortably in his arms. His face—his features, pale skin, and the colour of his hair and eyes—it was similar. But... 'Wait, didn’t I already have a dad?'

His mind scrambled as he stared up at the man holding him, studying his face more carefully, something started to shift inside him. His eyes narrowed slightly. The more he looked, the more he felt... off. The resemblance between them was so clear now.

Wait, hold on. Kim Rok Soo felt a twist in his stomach. He did look like him, didn't he?

But if this guy was his dad, then…

His tiny hands wiggled, restless. Wasn't Jour married? Wasn't she with someone? Does that mean... that she cheated on her husband?

Kim Rok Soo' tiny brow furrowed, confusion filled his thoughts. Is that why he was treated that way? Because he remind her of him?

The idea struck him harder than he expected. His mind jumped to another possibility—What if this guy just knew about him? Maybe he didn't know he existed until now, and searched for him?

And... The doubt didn't stop. What of cale? His twin. His thoughts grew tangled. Could twins have different dads? Was that even possible?

Kim Rok Soo felt overwhelmed as his tiny eyes darted between White Star and Fredo, his mind going crazy crazy, trying to make sense of it all. The questions piled up, and he found himself more and more unsure of everything.

He stopped thinking altogether when he felt the softest pat on his head.

He instantly relaxed at the touch.

Kim Rok Soo noticed that his surroundings had changed as he was held in a new, more gentle position by his...father?

The quiet chatter between White Star and Fredo went on in the background. Mostly, it was Fredo talking, and White Star listening, teasing Kim Rok Soo's hair.

And what he wasn't expecting to hear Fredo ask "So, what’s his name?"

He blinked, staring at Fredo, then down at the hands that were still holding him. His name? That was a funny thing to ask for now.

It wasn't like it mattered, right? No one had ever bothered to tell him his name before, not even his birth mother, so why would it suddenly mean something now?

A soft touch on his cheek made him glance up.

White Star's face was as blank as ever, but those eyes...

For a moment, Kim Rok Soo wasn’t sure what to make of it. They held so many emotions that even he was lost in them.

White Star spoke, his voice low but steady, "Callis. His name is Callis."

Callis.

The name lingered in his mind, unfamiliar yet... something about it felt different.

His tiny fingers curled slightly against White star's robes.

A name. His name.

Callis.

His little heart—seemed to beat a little faster.

He didn't know why. He hadn't been thinking about his name, not really. Not after he knew he was about to be abandoned, Who needed one, anyway? His whole, very short, lil life, he had gone without a name. So, why should it matter that this stranger, this man, his appearent...father had just given him one?

It shouldn't matter.

But when White Star said it again, so effortlessly, like it was the most natural thing in the world, his smile twitched. Callis.

He never wanted anything, really. Well, except for sleep. Food. Maybe a little peace. But a name? He made peace with the fact that he won't have one in this life.

But now..

He looked up and stared at his father, who had a blank face as always but his eyes..

Still full of emotions.

Tears started to gather in his eyes, but Callis didn't even realize it. He just kept looking at his father, 'was this some strange dream?'

As the seconds passed, the tears began to fall silently, one after the other, without a sound. 

The man had named him. The man was holding him in a way no one ever had done before. 

The man had cared.

For the first time in all his lives, Callis felt the love of a parent. 

'His dad... might be awkward,' Callis thought with a small sigh. 'But atleast he cares.'

It wasn't until a soft sniffle escaped Callis that Fredo finally noticed.

"Wait, is... is he crying?" Fredo's voice faltered, his eyes wide as he looked at the little baby in liege’s arms.

Callis's tears fell silently, as though his little body had decided to let it all out quietly, without making a sound. 

White Star's head snapped toward Fredo, eyes narrowing dangerously. The air seemed to thicken, killing intent filled the room and Fredo could feel his entire body stiffen. He had no idea why, but something told him this wasn't going to end well.

White Star's gaze locked onto him, a glare so intense it could melt steel. "What did you do to him?"

Fredo's mouth went dry, his brain short-circuiting as he stumbled backward slightly. "I... I didn't—!"

At this point, poor Fredo was cursing the world, trying to find an excuse for whatever catastrophe he was about to be blamed for. His eyes flickered nervously toward the baby, whose face was now wet with tears, but who still seemed oddly calm in his liege's arms.

White Star was absolutely not having any of it. His eyes darkened as he looked at Fredo."If you were the cause of this, Fredo, I'll—"

"I didn't hurt him! I swear!" Fredo's his face...pale? paler?, hands up in defense. 

Meanwhile, our Callis was oblivious to the chaos he had caused, decided that today was a lil bit too much for his heart, and decided that he'll take a nap instead.

He had a name. his own name.

He'll get used to it somehow.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

A knock on the door pulled Deruth from his thoughts, but he didn't move at first. The funeral had ended hours ago, and yet, his body felt like it had never left the graveyard. 

Exhausted, he muttered, "Come in."

Ron entered quietly, his posture perfect as always,

"My lord," Ron greeted.

Deruth's gaze remained fixed on the floor, lost in his thoughts. "Any news?"

Ron hesitated, then spoke, looking at the mess Deruth had become, "There were clear signs of struggle at the scene. It was clear that it was intentional. But there was something else ther. A basket."

Deruth blinked, confusion flickering in his tired eyes. "A basket?"

Ron nodded. "It was large enough to hold an infant. Inside it, there were necessities—blankets, food, and... a letter."

Deruth's breath hitched in his throat, something cold crawling down his spine. He slowly lifted his eyes, meeting Ron's gaze for the first time since the funeral.

Ron stepped forward and handed him the letter. Deruth's fingers trembled slightly as he took it. For the briefest moment, their eyes locked, and Deruth could see the flicker of sympathy in Ron's gaze.

He opened it carefully, the familiar handwriting almost mocking him as his eyes fell on the simple words...

Take care of him.

His heart skipped, the words ringing in his mind, but they didn't make sense. No, they couldn’t make sense. But they did.

No.

His voice came out tight, low. "were you...were you planning to abandon your son, our son."

No one answered that, the person who was meant to answer that was long gone.

Deruth felt weak.

"Is he alive?" Deruth asked, the words almost choking him.

Ron met his gaze, he nodded once. "Evidence-wise, sir. There was no body. The second young master was taken alive."

Deruth's eyes closed, and he breathed deeply, trying to gather himself. The thought of his youngest son—alone somewhere, abandoned in such a cold, heartless way, with only the gods knew who—was almost too much to bear.

"I need a moment," Deruth said quietly. He wiped a hand over his face and exhaled slowly. "Keep the search party going. Don't stop until we find him."

Ron bowed "Understood." 

Deruth didn't watch him leave. He was lost in his own thoughts, it was too much for him.

"God help me."

Chapter Text

It was morning.

Silly Sun was awake, silly birds were awake, so of course our Callis has to wake up too.

He slowly blinked his eyes open as the soft sunlight of the morning drifted in. The world was a little blurry, and his body still felt like it hadn't quite gotten the memo that it was supposed to be awake. 

He shifted slightly, expecting to see Cale's usual beaming smile next to him.

But... there was nothing.

His tiny heart skipped a beat. Panic flared, and he let out a small whine, his fists scrunching up in instinctive frustration.

Wait, no. Calm down, it's fine.

The little thought floated through his dazed mind, but it didn't really help. His body was still convinced it needed to freak out.

Being an infant really messed up his mind. 

So, tears welled up in his eyes, and he sniffled, just a little. He wasn't about to cry over this.

He had just gotten used to the idea of being here, in this new home. He has a caring, rich, handsome dad now and even a weird uncle who was very shiny.

Still, his twin wasn't with him to share this. 

Callis really needs to hold his emotions down, this is starting to get out of character even if he misses that adorable face.

And It didn't help that his body had a mind of it's own.

But then, just as his little body was about to go full meltdown mode, something soft brushed against his cheek. Startled, Callis blinked up, eyes wide and confused.

A young man was looking down at him, his black hair falling softly into his eyes, and his gaze was... curious? Almost like how his twin looks when he finds some kind of interesting toy he hadn't expected to find. Callis wasn't sure whether to feel offended or just too tired to care.

This life is truly testing his emotions in a whole new level.

The young man's eyes went from wide to pink in an instant. His cheeks flushed like he'd just been caught doing something wrong. 

Callis blinked up at the young man, his curiosity sparking.

'Who is this guy?'

Perhaps another one of his father's weird people? Callis wasn't really sure, but blackie was definitely staring at him like he was some rare treasure.

Not wanting to be rude to a possible rich relative, and a very possible future piggy bank, he let out a cute little smile.

It wasn't much—just the faintest twitch of his lips. But it was enough. Callis might be a baby now, but he won't use his killer weapon on some innocent bystander.

He had came to learn that any of his actions could cost lives, ask uncle Fredo and his now broken arm.

To finish his act, Callis let out a soft adorable sound. 

"Abuuu!"

Blackie turned redder. Callis caught that and mentally gave a smirk. 'Perfect,' another person fell right to his tiny lil hands.

Callis noticed that the young man reached out to him again. When his hand was about to brush against his cheek, something strange happened. 

He froze.

His clear black eyes widening for a moment, and before Callis could even figure out what was going on, he vanished.

Callis blinked, 'what just happened?'

He looked around as if expecting him to reappear somewhere, but… nothing.

Okay…? Weird, he thought, quickly deciding it wasn't worth his time to try and solve the mystery. He was a busy guy with a future slacker life to plan, and these small interruptions were just a minor thingz. But hey, he had time to figure it all out later.

Before he could resume his daydreamz of future slacker life, the door creaked open. Callis’s head looked toward the sound, his little eyes widening when he saw Fredo sneak in.

Fredo was trying his best to be stealthy, creeping into the room with exaggerated care, and there was no hiding the fact that he was holding his arm at an odd angle. His right arm was in a sling, obviously broken.

Fredo finally stopped in front of the crib and knelt down, his face bright as he held out the plushie to him. "For you, lil highness,” he said, trying to sound all serious, but his grin was practically glowing.

Really, Callis has to look more into those weird titles they are calling him.

Callis stared at the plushie, then up at Fredo, his baby face scrunching up. A plushie? Really? It was soft, sure, and okay, maybe it would be good for naps. But still—Fredo really thought this is worthy of risking his life over? Atleast do it in front of his father, not behind his back.

Wasn't a broken arm enough of a lesson?

"Look at you," Fredo teased, handing the obviously very lexurious plushie. Ware those real red gems?!

Callis stare at the red eyes of the plushie, it somehow reminded him of his twin. 

Alright, fine! Maybe he does miss him way too much but he heard kids his age go through such a faze!

This was all out of his control alright! ...still...

He held the plushie close, it was soft. 'Uncle fredo isn't so bad.'

Fredo watched with amusement, then sighed dramatically, sitting down next to the crib. "You're lucky you're cute," he said with a grin. "Otherwise, I'd have to tell your old man how you're already stealing my heart." He paused, and for a second, as if he remembered something. "Ugh, and speaking of your old man... Do you have any idea what I've been through? He doesn't even let me rest."

....Maybe not.

Callis just let Fredo ramble on, his tiny head resting back on the soft pillow as he made little cooing noises. It was like they were having a full-on conversation—well, in Fredo's eyes anyway. Callis had long since decided it wasn't worth exerting any energy when the guy was so clearly enjoying himself.

Soon, Fredo's voice suddenly quieted.

Callis looked up, his little brows furrowing as he saw the change in Fredo's expression. His face froze for a moment, eyes wide with... fear?

What now?

Callis blinked lazily. The door creaked open, and there was no mistaking the sound of footsteps. 'Oh great, Dad’s back.'

A few moments later, White Star, holding a sword, stormed into the room. Fredo flinched like a puppy caught in a cross fire. 

"Fredo, you have one second. " White Star’s voice was cold. 

Fredo, as usual, tried to talk his way out of it. "I was just—"

"Save it," White Star cut him off, clearly pissed.

Callis, on the other hand, was too busy hugging his new plushie to care. His uncle brought it to himself, who told him to piss off his father? 'Oh well', he thought, lazily curling up. 'Who cares? It wasn't like he was going to die.'

Honestly, What kind of slacker wakes up this early anyway? he must've been crazy.

He closed his eyes, letting the chaos fade into the background. 

'The plushie is nice.'

It might not have been Cale, but it'll do.

Chapter Text

This world wasn't normal. But then again, nothing about his life ever was.

It wasn't that hard to figure out. Uncle Fredo would sneak into his room at night, always taking care to avoid his father's notice, and tell him stories—nothing too dramatic of course.

He'd talk about the world outside—how there were beast people, tribes of cats, lions, and even whales. 

Even elves were a thing here, literal dragon worshipers. 

Callis felt that if he ever met any of them, his slacker life would be over in an instant.

As if that wasn't enough, Fredo would casually mention he was a vampire. 

A Duke of all things.

Callis felt a future headache creeping in, something told him that this should probably be the least of his concerns.

As Kim Rok Soo, he had fought monsters and lived through a literal apocalypse, so knowing he was reincarnated in a world of fantasy of all things didn't surprise him in the slightest.

Anyway, leaving all that aside, today was one of those days when his father decided to wake him up from his oh-so-blissful nap and drag him to his office. 

Callis, now a full month old, didn't particularly appreciate the interruption —slacking was sacred, after all—but his father's arms were warm, so it wasn't the worst thing that could happen.

The paperwork sprawled across the desk was nothing short of mind-numbing. If anything, Callis pitied his father for the sheer mountain of work he did day in and out. Callis could never. 

But honestly, he didn't mind. He didn't have much to do except be carried around like some prized possession.

But, of course, He soon got bored, like the silly young infant that he is. And what does bored babies do? They started messing with things. Like, say, their dad's hair.

He gave it a little tug. Just a light one. Nothing serious. But Callis could already feel his face heating up a little. He still wasn't used to acting like this—not that his baby body left him much of a say in the matter. Curiosity be damned! He just hoped his father wouldn't notice how embarrassingly playful he was being.

But of course, he did. His father's usual blank face stayed exactly the same, but there was a flicker in his eyes, like he was holding back a smile. And then—oh no—he offered Callis his finger.

His father was a little... awkward around him, but Callis could tell—whenever he looked at him, there was this warm, gentle look in his eyes. Even if his face stayed blank, his eyes always gave it away. 

He cared for him.

Callis, now more flustered than before, didn't want to admit it, but he was beginning to like the attention from his very first parent.

So, like any proper baby, he grabbed his dad's finger, then looked up at him.

 Lil Callis cooed softly, his face lighting up with a toothless grin.

That was way too embarrassing. But... he just couldn't help it. He gave his father the biggest smile he could muster. He could tell it was a good one because he saw that little flicker in his dad's eyes again,

He peeked at his dad, Callis swore he saw his father's ears turn a shade of red.

'Cale will be proud.' Callis' mind flashed with the image of his twin but shook it off.

It didn't matter.

He could see his father's expression hadn't changed one bit, so the still obviously bored Callis took it upon himself to play with his father's much larger hand for the sake of his sanity. 

While Callis busied himself, he failed to notice that White Star had stopped working entirely.

The pen in his hand stilled. The neatly stacked papers in front of him blurred into nothing.

White Star totally ignored the work that had to be done and was utterly entranced by the tiny bundle in his arms. At his son.

He felt a strange emotion filling his none existent heart,  warmth he had no name for.

Pride? Affection? No—it shouldn't be possible. He was cursed. He wasn't meant to feel anything.

White Star had lived for centuries, untouched by those weak emotions that drove mortals to despairand joy. His had long been stripped of warmth, pleasure, and even the need for sleep.

Yet here, against all odds, the child in his arms broke that cycle.

Small. Bright. Undeniably his.

The thought came so naturally that it disturbed him. 

This tiny human baby in his arms belonged to him and him alone. His son was utterly unaware of what kind of man held him, of what kind of blood had been spilled by these hands he now played with so fearlessly.

His gaze flickered to the book resting on the edge of his desk.

"Parenting 101: A Beginner's Guide to Raising a Happy, Healthy baby!"

'...What an absurd title.'

A ridiculous thing really. Fredo had shoved it into his hand the other day, though White Star had caught the glint of amusement dancing in his purple eyes.

"You should at least know how to care for an infant, my lord. Unless, of course, you want your son to die due to... neglect?"

The audacity! White Star had wanted to kill him on the spot for that. He still might, as if he would allow his own child—his heir—to die in the first place.

Still, White Star had flipped through the book, if only to humor Fredo's insistence. 

There were rules for everything. How to hold an infant. How to not hold an infant. What position to let them sleep in—because, apparently, they could die just from lying incorrectly. There was an entire section dedicated to breathing, as if air itself was a potential assassin.

"If your baby cries too much, something is wrong. If they don't cry enough, something is also wrong."

How useless. The book gave no real answers—only more problems.

His gaze shifted back to the small weight resting against his chest.

Callis, oblivious and blissfully unaware of everything, was happily playing in his arms, his tiny fingers curled into the fabric of White Star's robes. His breathing—apparently something to be monitored constantly—was slow and steady. Soft. Rhythmic.

Alive.

White Star exhaled, he could put an end to it all with a mere thought, but he couldn't.

This child belonged to him. His to raise, his to shape. His to own.

White Star's grip on him tightened Possessively.

If anyone tried to take him—if anyone dared to touch even a single hair on his head—White Star would rip them apart.

Slowly.

Painfully.

The world could burn for all he cared, so long as his son remained untouched.

His fingers twitched. He wanted to ruffle Callis's soft hair, to test if it was as fluffy as it looked.

Then— a knock.

White Star's expression didn't change, but his mood soured instantly.

'Who dared?'

His lips curled slightly in displeasure, but his voice remained calm.

"Enter."

The door creaked open slowly, revealing the figure standing in the doorway—Sayeru, the king of the bear tribe. Sayeru was a man the White Star allowed to call him by his true name, he had earned the right of such privilege over the centuries he had served him.

Sayeru bowed deeply, "My liege," he greeted, his voice low and respectful.

Callis, blinked curiously up at the newcomer. He hadn't seen this person before. The first thing he noticed was how feeble the man looked. Thin as a stick, his skin pale and stretched tight over his bones. 

'Does his father even feed his subordinates?'

If not for the blood splattered on his clothes, Callis might've dismissed him. He was bored okay? the old mad seemed intresting enough to him.

Sayeru, for his part, caught sight of Callis resting comfortably in his liege's arms. He froze for a moment, eyes widening in surprise.

'Why was there a tiny, miniature version of his lord?!'

The king straightened up, though there was still a flicker of disbelief in his eyes as his gaze turned back to White Star, silently questioning everything.

White Star didn't bother to explain, he was mad that Sayeru interrupted his father-son bonding moment with his heir.

"Speak," White star wanted nothing but to get this over with. 

Sayeru knew his place, and he'd learned long ago not to irritate his lord."The raid is complete, my liege. We cleared the dragon's lair and secured all the treasure inside. The spoils are being transported as we speak."

White Star's lips twitched into the faintest smile, clearly pleased, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Good," he replied. "And no issues?"

"No issues, my lord," Sayeru replied, his voice had the faintest trace of hesitation. He couldn't help but glance back at Callis, curiosity flickering in his gaze.

Callis on the other hand, unaware of the eyes looking at him, was in delulu land—Cough his mind palace.

Dragons. 

His father hunted dragons? That was crazy!

Callis blinked slowly, his tiny brow furrowing as he tried to wrap his little mind around it. Dragons aren't supposed to be... well, hunted like that. Weren't they supposed to be the top of the food chain?

But just as his mind was spinning with thoughts of fire-breathing beasts and how his father was somehow able to deal with something like that, his ears caught a familiar sound—something that made his heart skip a beat.

Sayeru had called his father by a name.

"Cale."

Callis was so shocked that he forgot how to breathe for a second. 'Cale?' The name of his twin. His brother.

But now, you are telling him, that his father had the same name?

Callis was confused. 'Could it be a coincidence?'

Thinking of Jour, the more he thought about it, the more it seemed to make sense. His little hands curled into fists. No. No way. There's no way this is just a simple coincidence. 

Callis felt that he already knew the answer to it, it was so unsettling and messed up but it made perfect sense.

His mother had named her firstborn son after her ex, his father, the man she cheated on her husband with.

It was undeniable now. The red head, the man who held him in his arms, was his father. First the resemblance, and now the name—everything fit. And suddenly, all the lingering doubt melted away.

While thinking of his twin, who knew nothing of this, he suddenly felt bad for his father.

'He probably doesn't even know he has a second son. An oldest, at that.'

Callis felt a cool touch against his cheek, it was his father, staring down at him with that same unreadable expression.

He tilted his head, feeling abit more sympathetic for his father and was feeling particularly generous, Callis decided to flashed a wide, cute, silly smile in hopes that it'll make him feel better.

Having to come to learn of such secrets that he can't share just yet, he felt that it should be fine to treat his old man a lil better sometimes. 

He was necessary for his future rich slacker life after all.

White Star stilled. His hand lingered for a second longer before pulling away, but his eyes softened just a little.

Heh. Callis was glad to know his weapon of mass destruction worked as always.

'Can't wait to start using it to scam people.'

From the side, Sayeru, who had been standing quietly, tensed.

'His liege was smiling?!'

Then, The White Star spoke, breaking his thoughts. "What of the black egg? Did the half-blood get rid of it?"

Sayeru quickly snapped back and shook his head. "No, my liege. The egg remains alive. Surprisingly, the dragon inside hasn't died yet, even after all these years. It would be a waste to discard it before we're certain of its fate."

...Dragon egg?

Callis's interest was piqued, and before he knew it, he had let out an excited little noise.

"Wuwuwu"

White Star's attention flickered down to him, and suddenly, clear amusement appear in his gaze. "Are you interested?"

'What? No! I was just—!' Callis froze in horror as White Star completely misinterpreted his reaction. His little body stiffened, and he frantically waved his tiny hands, 'No, no, no, you misunderstood!' he was just curious! Callis did NOT want a pet dragon!

But White Star, of course, saw none of that. Instead, his unreadable expression gave way to a thoughtful look. "If the dragon inside is dead, the shell will make a fine trophy for my son."

Callis's soul left his body for a brief second.

A WHAT?! A TROPHY?!

Sayeru, meanwhile, was watching all of this with barely contained smile. He coughed into his fist, but Callis knew that cough was covering up a laugh.

But White Star wasn't done. His eyes darkened slightly as an even worse thought entered his head.

"And if the dragon is alive..."

Callis froze.

White Star's fingers tapped lightly on the table, deep in thought. "It wouldn't be a bad thing. A dragon would make a fine pet for him. My son deserves nothing less."

The horror sank in all at once.

Callis let out a distressed baby noisez, but White Star, fully convinced that his son wanted the egg, only nodded to himself as if he had made a brilliant decision.

"Then it's decided," White Star said, practically enjoying the fact that his son shared his interests in dragons as well "The egg will be brought here."

Callis gawked.

'EXCUSE ME?! I DID NOT AGREE TO THIS!!'

Sayeru, glad to serve his young master, bowed. "Understood. I'll bring it immediately."

As he watched him leave, Callis felt his future slacker life leave with him.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Deruth stood outside the nursery door, his hand resting on the handle, but he couldn't bring himself to turn it just yet. The muffled cries from inside clawed at his chest, the same broken sobs that had echoed through the halls ever since that day.

A week had passed since Jour left.

Ever since she had been murdered.

A week had passed since he had lost a son he never got to hold long enough. He was tired. 

So, so tired.

He had barely slept, barely eaten. What was the point? The thought of shutting himself away, locking himself in his study and drowning in work, had tempted him more times than he could count. Would it be so wrong to disappear for a while? To let him grief?

But every time the thought tempted him, he appeared in his mind.

His son. His only remaining son.

Cale.

Only a month old, too small to understand, too young to to be left all alone.

With a deep breath, Deruth finally pushed open the door. Inside the room, Cale lay curled up, his tiny body trembling with each hiccupping sob. His face was red and tear-streaked, his little fists opening and closing uselessly. 

His cries had lost their strength after days, now reduced to weak whimpers.

"Wuuuu."

A sound of pure misery.

Deruth felt something inside him shatter.

He walked forward, picking up the fragile body that was warm and trembling against him. Cale hiccuped, his sobs slowing just a bit as Deruth pressed him close, one hand resting protectively on his back. "I'm here," he gently kissed his forehead, though he knew his son wouldn't understand. "I'm here, Cale."

The tiny fingers grasped weakly at his shirt, clutching at him as though afraid he would vanish too.

Deruth swallowed hard. No. He won't. He refused to do that..

Deruth squeezed his eyes shut. He had failed him, he had failed them both. He hadn't stopped Jour. He couldn't protect Callis. 

Jour had left. She had abandoned their child, abandoned them.

And now, Cale—left alone, was suffering for it.

But he would not fail again.

Deruth would never let go of Cale, never let him feel alone in this world. And Callis—his missing son—he would find him. No matter how long it took, no matter what it cost, he would never stop searching.

Even if it cost him his life.

Chapter Text

Cale Henituse was having a perfectly pleasent night. 

Well, as pleasent as it could get when one was sufficiently drunk and lounging in a mess of silk sheets, appreciating the way the ceiling refused to spin if he stared at it long enough.

The world could burn, and he wouldn't care—well, unless the fire reached his family estate, then he might raise a brow.

It wasn't that Cale had an obsession with it; he just preferred the quiet luxury of being left alone. With nothing to do except rest and sip his wine. If only he could get a bit more peace...

Then, of course, someone had to ruin it.

There was a soft thump—no, a clunk—from the balcony. A figure moved outside the glass doors. And because Cale had the misfortune of still being conscious, he turned his head just in time to see a dark figure slip into his room from the goddamn balcony.

Cale groaned. Who in their right mind had the audacity to interrupt his peace at this ungodly hour? He ignored it. Maybe he was imagining things.

Did the alcohol finallly reach his head?

Bang—

Guess not.

Cale cracked open an eye and immediately regretted it. Some guy stood there, his clothes torn, reeking of blood, with a haunted look in his pitch-black eyes.

"...You do realize there's a perfectly functional door, right?" Cale said in mild disbelief.

People are weird these days, and they call him a trash.

"I need to see Count," the man ignored the comment, voice sharp like a blade, and honestly? he sounded tired.

'Ah, he came for his father.'

Cale sighed, rolling onto his side and tossing an arm over his face. "No clue, not my problem. Fuck off."

A heavy silence followed. The stranger's dark eyes bore into him with an intensity that made Cale wish he had another bottle of wine to drown it out. Especially when it reminded him of Ron.

Then, the man spoke again, this time calmer. "I came from Harris Village."

Cale paused, the name lived rent free in his mind for what felt like eternity.

Harris Village.

The place that had took his mother away from him. The place he never wanted to hear about ever again.

He hated where this was going. He really did. But he was too drunk to care much, so he stared at the man through half-lidded eyes.

"And? want me to care? Because I really don't." Cale swirled his last glass of wine and raised a brow.

The man's jaw clenched. "The village was massacred."

Cale stared. 

For a second, there was silence.

Then—

Cale burst out laughing!

"About time!" Cale wiped at his eye, still chuckling. "Honestly, surprised it didn't happen sooner!"

"You think this is funny?" The man blood streaked fists clenched, his voice was dangerously low.  The anger radiated from him, but Cale was too far gone to care.

Cale snorted, tossing a lazy hand in the air. "Of course I do. Finally that place burned to the ground! Nothing good ever came out of it anyway."

The stranger's face turned dark, slowly he took a step forward.

The next thing Cale knew, sharp pain exploded in his chest. A bloody gasp tore from his throat, but he couldn't even register what happened before darkness swallowed him whole.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Cale Henituse was dead.

Like, actually dead.

It was strange, really. He thought death would come with something more—pain, regret, fear. But no. He just felt... annoyed?

He wasn't sure what part of this pissed him off more. Being murdered or the fact that he was killed, while he was drunk. 

Only one thing he was sure of.

'I'm never touching alcohol again.'

He groaned, dying while drunk was not on his bingo card for the year. And maybe the effect still lasted even after his death because why else will he now be inside a fancy looking office, sitting across a  white-haired, holy looking handsome man?

The man, dressed in dark robes with a face that exuded an unnatural calm, was sipping tea with the patience of someone who had all the time in the world. And maybe he did.

Cale squinted, blinking slowly, still not quite processing. "...Who the hell are you?"

The man placed his teacup down with a soft clink, then smiled and introduced himself. His voice was gentle, and Cale felt as if the words were made to soothe.

"I am the God of Death."

Cale stared.

Then, after a long moment, he leaned back and sighed, rubbing his temples. "...Of course you are."

Because why the hell not?

What better way to end the miserable mess that was his life than by getting a personal audience with the God of Death? He let out a bitter chuckle. "So, what now? You here to drag my soul to the afterlife?"

The god merely observed him for a moment, as if considering something, before shaking his head. "Normally I would, but no. You were not meant to die today."

Cale stilled. His brain took a moment to catch up with the words.

"What?"

"This was a mistake—"

"A mistake?!" Cale snapped, not caring if he was cursing a literal God. "I was murdered, drunk, in my own damn bedroom. Do you know how embarrassing that is? And you are telling me it was a MISTAKE?!"

Cale knew that he was trash, good for nothing, useless son. He made peace with that. But dying like that  must've horrified his family! Cale wasn't bothered by the fact that he died, no not at all.

Simply imagining his sibilings, his father, or even Ron going to his room, only to find him in a pool of his own blood was a scene horrifying enough.

Still, he knew nothing can be done now.

Cale took a slow breath, tilting his head up to meet the gaze of a bastard of a god. "So, what, are you here to apologize?"

The god smiled— tch. If he wasn't so handsome— clearly amused. "No. I am here to fix this."

Cale cracked an eye open. "Fix this?"

A long sigh. "Yes."

Heh.

The God of Death rubbed his temples before continuing. "You see, this was not your original fate. The flow of your life should not have led to such an abrupt end. Therefore, I am offering you a chance."

Cale let out a breath through his nose, he thought of his family. They would wake up, realize the trash of the Henituse family was gone, and what? Mourn?

He almost laughed at the thought. No. His father would likely let out a sigh of disappointment before moving on. Basen would bear the weight of being the only son left, and finally be the heir to his father. His stepmother, Violan, would probably feel nothing.

And Lily...

They will be fine. He had spent his entire life making sure he didn't matter to them—this was just the natural.

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Then what are you offering me?"

"A chance to regress."

Cale blinked.

Regression?

The god continued, unbothered by Cale's clear disbelief. "You cannot return to the world you knew, but I can place you in a different reality."

Cale scoffed. "That sounds like reincarnation to me."

"It is not," the god corrected. "You will be yourself. Back to your own family, but with all your memories intact and of course with a much younger body."

That made him pause. His fingers stilled against the chair's armrest, his mind racing through the possibilities.

'But what's the catch?'

He licked his lips, gaze flickering to the god's ever-calm expression. "You said I wasn't meant to die today."

"Yes."

Cale narrowed his eyes. "Then I assume this is your fault."

For the first time, the God of Death hesitated. It was brief, but Cale caught it.

"...Yes," the GoD admitted, sighing as if the words physically pained him.

Cale leaned back with a smirk.

"So, let me guess," he drawled, resting his chin on his hand. "You need to fix this, huh?"

The god did not answer, but the silence spoke for itself.

Cale tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, I mean, I just take whatever you give me, but let's be honest here—you killed me. Shouldn't there be... oh, I don't know, compensation?"

The GoD inhaled deeply through his nose. "You already get to keep your memories."

"That's the bare minimum."

Cale's grin widened as the god's lips pressed into a thin line. "Look," Cale said, voice dripping with false innocence, "I'm not asking for much, really. Just making sure I don't get brutally murdered like that again the moment I step into my new life."

The god pinched the bridge of his nose. "...What do you want?"

You just know that Cale had that scammer smile.

"I want a body with high potential for sword mastery."

'He'll make sure to beat up that bastard who killed him.'

The GoD' fingers twitched.

"What?"

Cale shrugged, "I don't want to be a sitting duck in this new life. If I have to start over, I should at least have a strong foundation."

His smirk deepened. "After all, you wouldn't want me to die again, would you?"

The god closed his eyes, already done with this and never wanting to see the redhead ever again. "Fine."

Cale snickered. "Glad we're on the same page. I'll visit your church sometimes." 

Cale was messing with the god at this point. After all, when will he ever have a second chance to scam him again?

The GoD ignored his words and simply lifted his hand.

And just like that, the world faded to black.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Cale's first thought when he opened his eyes was simple.

'Why is everything so damn big?'

Then his senses caught up. The soft scent of roses, one he was clearly familer with, a scent that had been long kept safe in his memories.

His hazy gaze shifted upwards, and that was when he saw her.

Jour Henituse.

His mother.

His breath—can an infant even do that?—hitched. His mind blanked. Time itself seemed to slow as he stared up at the woman he had lost so long ago.

She was smiling.

Alive, right in front of him.

His throat tightened. He wanted to say something, to call out to her, to do something, but all that left his mouth was a weak embarrassing sound.

"Waaaa!"

Jour chuckled at the sound, rocking him gently. "Welcome to this world, my love."

Cale wasn't sure if he had ever been this close to crying before.

A soft sound pulled his attention away, and for the first time, he noticed the presence of another person. His gaze shifted to the man standing beside his mother, watching over them with a nervous yet awed expression.

Deruth Henituse.

His father.

Except... he was young. Much younger than Cale remembered. The stress lines that had once etched his face were absent, and his hair still held its full color. 

'Right. Different reality.'

He could deal with that. It was strange, but not as crazy as he thought it'll be.

Then, he felt something shift beside him, he let his gaze wonder off and that was when he saw him.

A baby.

Cale blinked. He froze.

His mind, still sluggish from all the crazy crazy stuff that happened to him, took a long moment to process what he was seeing.

The baby—an exact replica of him—curled up next to him, breathing softly, his tiny chest rising and falling in steady rhythms. His red hair was slightly messy, his round cheeks flushed with warmth, his little lips parted as he slept soundly.

Cale's breath hitched. He knew what this means, a twin. He had a twin.

Was he younger? or was Cale the oldest? Oh how he so prayed to the gods—yes even that GoD— that this tiny baby was his younger brother..sister? He's in blue so Cale took it upon himself to classify the baby as his brother.

Not that he doesn't mind a sister.

His small fingers twitched, instinctively wanting to reach out. He had seen many things in his past life, kids of all shapes and sizes. But this—this tiny life beside him—completely shattered his world view of children. He had only known of his existence for a few seconds, and yet...

Cale loved him.

If dying was the price to meet him, then Cale was more than willing to do it all over again.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Being an infant was boring. 

Cale had never felt so useless before—he couldn't move properly, couldn't talk, couldn't even glare at people without looking adorable instead of intimidating. Worst of all, he had no control over his sleep schedule.

But despite all the inconveniences of being a baby, there was one thing that made it all worth it—Callis.

He had came to know this name when his father came to visit at night, he kept repeating their names over and over again like a man obsessed. Cale was glad that his brother was sleeping that time, or else he had to witness that.

Then again, his younger brother was the laziest person, baby, infant he had ever seen.

At first, Cale assumed it was normal for babies to sleep a lot, but Callis? Callis took it to an entirely different level. His entire routine was just eating, sleeping, and occasionally blinking at the world before dozing off again. It was honestly impressive.

The only time Callis seemed remotely interested in anything was when Cale was with him.

Cale figured this out by accident one morning when he woke up before Callis and, out of pure curiosity, decided to smile at him.

Callis, who had been half-asleep, froze. His tiny eyes widened slightly, his chubby cheeks twitching, and for a few long seconds, he just stared.

His face turned a lovely shade of red by the second.

Cale swore that he had just shut down. And then, as if confirming that thought, Callis let out a sleepy sigh... and immediately fell back asleep.

Cale nearly burst out laughing.

From that day on, he made it his mission to greet Callis with a smile every morning, just to see his reaction. Without fail, Callis would freeze and stare at him like he was the most fascinating thing in the world.

It was adorable.

And so, Cale took full advantage of it.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

For all the comfort he found in Callis's presence, Cale eventually started noticing something... off.

It was nagging him honestly.

His mother, Jour, was attentive—always picking him up, holding him, humming soft lullabies and kissing him. As any loving mother would do to her child. Cale liked those moments they shared and yearned for them more.

The problem? She only ever did it to him.

Cale wasn't blind. He might've been stuck in a baby's body, but he could still see perfectly fine. Whenever their father visited, he would check on both of them, lingering by Callis's crib even when his brother was asleep. But their mother? She barely even looked in Callis's direction.

It wasn't obvious at first. She wasn't cruel or anything. She never outright ignored Callis if he was awake, but there was a difference. She'd greet Cale with a soft smile and warm words, but when it came to Callis, she rarely even glanced at him, maybe tuck the blanket around him one time before walking away.

It was weird.

Cale thought maybe he was imagining it. That she just didn't want to wake Callis up. But it kept happening. Even when Callis was awake, she barely interacted with him.

That didn't sit right with Cale.

He might not know what was going on in her head, but he knew one thing for sure—Callis was his twin. And if their mother wasn't going to make sure Callis felt wanted, then fine. He'd do it himself!

Everything was smooth sailing then, until that day arrived.

His mother—his beautiful, lovely mother—had finally looked at Callis.

Not just glanced, not just acknowledged him in passing, but truly looked. Her warm smile, once reserved only for Cale, now softened as she greeted Callis that morning. Cale felt his chest tighten, his tiny fingers curling into the blankets.

She had finally moved past whatever she had going on.

It made Cale happy, finally his sweet brother can get the love he deserved from her. 

Cale wanted to believe in it, in this fragile hope blooming in his chest. He wanted to trust that his mother, their mother, was now ready to love his brother too.

And when she announced that she would take Callis out with her, Cale nearly pouted in jealousy.

He wanted to go too.

He wanted to go out with his brother! Just imagining his slacker of a twin having fun and smiling while being outside made Cale feel that if he didn't go, he will regret it for life.

And Cale, in his naive happiness, had let it slide.

His brother deserved this moment. To be alone with his mother and improve thier relationship.

So, as he lay in his crib that morning, watching their mother pick up Callis, smoothing his tiny blanket with careful hands, he didn't complain.

And that was the last time Cale saw his brother.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Cale should have noticed sooner.

There were no signs of his brother. A day had already passed since his father promised to bring his twin. Cale was getting restless, he got so used to always be at Callis side that even a minute away felt like torture.

Yes, he was over reacting but his feelings were real.

Maybe it was the twin bond he had heard of in his previous life, maybe that was what making him so restless.

Cale just knew something had happened.

The way the maids wouldn't meet his eyes. No one would, or else they start crying for no appearent reason.

The way his father looked at him for just a second longer than usual—before looking away.

At first, Cale didn't think much of it. Maybe they took his twin somewhere? A check up maybe? Cale tried to be patient. 

So, he waited.

It was only on the third day was when he first heard the their knews. The maids, speaking in hushed tones. He had almost ignored it, thinking it wasn't anything worth his attention. But the words that reached his ears made his blood run cold.

"I still can’t believe it…"

"Not only had the Madam passed away, she commited a grave sin of and abandoned her infant child," the other maid said, voice thick with sorrow.

'What?'

It didn't make sense. He didn't understand, He couldn't process what he had just heard.

Cale didn't know how long he lay there, quiet, as the weight of the words settled in. Callis—his brother—was missing. 

His mother, the one he loved, trusted so blindly.

Had abandoned her own child, his twin.

'A different timeline. Another reality.'

Cale should've known, he shouldn't have viewed her as the same mother he had loved in his previous life. She was someone entirely different, someone who didn't think twice before taking his Callis away from him.

No, he did not mourn the loss of Jour.

He had trusted her, and it cost him his own brother.

And Cale… Cale had failed. He had promised to protect Callis. But he hadn’t. He hadn't been there when it mattered most.

He was weak.

Tears welled up, burning his eyes. The pain hit him so hard, it felt like he couldn't breathe. He opened his mouth to scream, and the sound that came out was louder than anything he had prepared his poor ears for.

"WAAAAAAHHH!!!"

The pain of being betrayed by his own mother and losing his precious brother was too much to bare.

His cries filled the room, echoing, making everyone freeze. The maids rushed in, wide-eyed and panicked, but Cale couldn't stop.

He had failed.

And at this moment, all Cale could do was greive.

Chapter Text

A soft coo filled the quiet nursery.

Callis, now three months old, smacked his lips and blinked lazily at the ceiling. It was a familiar sight. He hated it. He had spent weeks—months—trapped in this forced imprison lying down, rolling over, and staring at the same boring patterns on the ceiling.

No more.

Today was the day.

His tiny hands pressed against the smooth black egg beside him, his only trusted ally in this battle. With a determined huff, he pushed himself up, his little fingers gripping the cool surface as he wobbled.

'Come on. I can do this. Slacker life demands it!'

Being a slacker didn't mean doing nothing. No, it meant gaining enough independence to enjoy doing nothing. And for that, he needed to sit up. If he could sit, he'll be able to crowl, stand, even run!. He could lean against pillows. He could see his surroundings properly. 

He will stop being at the mercy of whoever decided to pick him up and move him against his will.

Well...sometimes. He does like being held by his father.

To be fair, it wasn't like he was completely neglected or alone these days. His uncle Fredo often visited him, telling stories filled with the magic of this world. His father—awkward, but clearly making an effort—took him around, showing him the world outside his crib.

Though he never took him that far from his room.

Even Sayeru, who Callis had come to learn was a bear beastman, dropped by frequently with gifts to keep him entertained. It was nice, really.

But no more! 

He will be free to make his own choices! All he had to do was sit.

The battle was intense. 

He wobbled.

The egg wobbled, but stayed in place as if to encourage him.

He barely managed to hold on, his chubby arms shaking from the effort.

'Urgh. Is this what muscle strain feels like?'

He let out an involuntary sound. "Mmm—!"

His legs kicked slightly as he tried again, his little brows furrowing in sheer concentration. Just a little more…!

Then—finally—he did it.

He was sitting.

Callis's reddish brown eyes widened slightly. His little hands instinctively pressed between his legs to keep himself steady.He looked around from his new perspective, drinking in the sight of the room as if he had just unlocked a secret level in life.

 He was no longer some helpless infant—he was now a proper child!

A smug grin curled his lips, he did it! Callis was so proud of himself!

But then—he realized something.

He had to stay sitting.

His tiny muscles strained, his body moving slightly. He locked his arms between his legs, holding himself as still as possible.

'Don't fall. Don't fall. Don't fall.'

He was so concentrated that he didn't notice someone come in to his room. Didn't notice that his father had silently approached him, arms crossed, watching him with an unreadable expression.

Didn't notice until—

"Pfft."

The quiet chuckle was heard and Callis's whole body stiffened.

Slowly—very slowly—he turned his head.

Standing near his crib was his father.

His father was watching him. The loose robes he wore slipped slightly from his shoulders, revealing his exposed chest, and Callis's brain stopped working.

Ah.

Call him crazy but he had weird fascination with muscles ever since he was held so close by his father and felt safe against his chest. It's not his fault that his dad was indecent most if not all the time.

Anyway that was beside the point. He was so focused and got side tracked that he failed to realize something important.

He had forgot to maintain his balance.

His world titled.

By the time his brain caught up, it was too late. Before he could even react, he saw his father's eyes flicker with something close to panic.

A firm hand caught him just in time, it was surprisingly gentle. The steady palm pressed against his tiny stomach to stop him fall head first. Not a second later, he was slowly lifted into the air and was pressed tightly against his father's chest.

The warmth of his bare skin made Callis finally register what had happened.

He blinked... Huh?

Did he just fail to sit and almost hurt himself?

He made himself a fool infront of his father.

He had only wanted to taste the freedom of his future slacker life, and yet he failed to do the simpliest of tasks and his dream slipped through his tiny fingers. His baby brain couldn't keep up with his emotions that were all over the place and he couldn't stop it. 

His lips quivered as lil his hands clenched at the fabric of his father's robes. His vision blurred, warm tears gathering at the corners of his eyes before spilling over. A small sniffle escaped him, then another, his tiny body trembling ever so slightly as silent tears fell.

White Star stiffened. 

He felt his son's wet tears on him and he was at loss. His son, his heir, was a quite child. He never made a sound unless he needed something or wanted his attention.

He never wail nor screamed like those annoying creatures they call children.

His child was perfect. 

Then why was it, that when he saw him like this, sobbing with out a single sound, that he wished him to scream his heart out.

He couldn't even tell if his son was in pain. Everything he had read in those meticulously detailed annoying parenting books had told him nothing of how to raise such a quite, perfect child. 

Not even how to deal with one so silent.

White Star panicked.

A bead of sweat rolled down his temple.

Awkwardly, he patted Callis's back. His movements as still as a soldier. "There,... there?" His voice was cautious, hesitant, completely unsure. He repeated the action, a little better this time. The book said Babies like back pats, right? Right?

Callis sniffled harder.

'That didn’t work?!'

For the first time in centuries, Cale barrow felt defeated.

Thankfully, hope was not lost.

Fredo, having spent the past few hours feeling an inexplicable ache from missing his lil highness, decided to visit. But the moment he stepped closer to the room, his sharp senses picked up something wrong.

There was another presence in there.

Fredo's entire demeanor shifted in an instant. The warmth in his eyes turned cold, and his fangs itched at the thought of an intruder. If someone—anyone—was daring enough to sneak into the young prince's room, he would make sure their remains will never be found.

Moving faster than light, he arrived at the door in the blink of an eye, ready to kill whoever was inside. But when he stepped in—he froze.

There, standing stiff as a statue, was his liege.

And in his arms—

A crying Callis.

Fredo blinked.

Callis, his lazy, intelligent and too mature to be compared to any child his age lovely baby boy, never cried, especially not like this. Never.

Without hesitation, he approached his liege. "What happened?"

White Star, still awkwardly patting his son's back, barely spared him a glance before muttering, "He fell."

Fredo’s eyes widened. "Fell?!" He was already checking Callis for injuries, ready to murder whoever or whatever had caused this—until White Star elaborated.

"He was trying to sit up."

Fredo blinked. 'That was it?'

Fredo's lips twitched as the panic eased from his chest. He should have known. His favourite human wasn't crying from pain—he was crying from the sheer embarrassment of not succeeding on his first try.

And maybe being cought by his father while doing so.

With a sigh, he reached out to take Callis, intending to soothe him properly. But before his fingers could even graze the child, he was met with a sharp death glare.

White Star's arms tightened around Callis.

Fredo's instincts screamed at him to back off immediately.

A panicked White Star was one thing. But a panicked and a possessive White Star? That was an entirely different beast.

Choosing the path of survival, Fredo slowly raised his hands in surrender before locking eyes with the still-sniffling Callis. His expression softened. "Ah, my young prince" he cooed, admiring him "Why so sad? You should be proud of yourself."

Callis blinked at him through blurry eyes.

Fredo smiled and nodded. “To think, at only three months, you are already trying to sit up on your own! Such strength!—it is no wonder you are my liege's son."

Callis hiccuped.

Encouraged, Fredo continued, choosing his words carefully to not upset the fragile mind of his highness. "No other baby your age could even dream of accomplishing what you just did. You are way far ahead of your peers! Even the Gods must be in awe of you."

The sniffles slowed.

Fredo went on and on using that silver tongue of his to good use, and by the time he finished, Callis had completely stopped crying, his tiny chest puffing up slightly, likely because he was praised so much infront of his father.

White Star let out a long, relieved sigh, and kissed his son's head. He turned to Fredo, who was honestly? expected a praise from him for helping calm a child.

And doing his job.

Not that Fredo will ever complain.

"You're not entirely useless after all."

Fredo, who took the backhanded compliment as a success, smirked. "It is my honor to be of help, your excellency."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

After that humiliating scene—Callis will scam anyone who mentions it again—was over.

He somehow ended up sitting on his father's lap.

Callis wasn't sure how it happened, but he figured the shock he gave his father got to him. Or maybe it was because his father had simply decided that this was the safest place for him, and Callis, still mentally recovering from that mess, was too tired to even protest.

At least there was food.

Right! He can eat again! Well not perfect meals, but like, you know...

Baby meals.

His father, looking far too entertained, was spoon-feeding him small, easy-to-eat snacks. Callis, starving after all that crying, accepted them without complaint. 

It was actually kind of nice. If only it weren't for the fact that his father seemed way too pleased about the situation, gently wiping crumbs from his mouth every few bites like this was some grand bonding experience.

It kinda...was?

Anyway, White Star and Fredo were talking, their voices filled the background. Callis wasn't paying much attention, focusing more on the food he was eating.

Then, Fredo's tone changed slightly.

"The Empire has sent an invitation for you, Your Excellency."

Callis blinked but kept chewing.

Empire? Oh right, his father was an Emperor, king, ruler? no one ever clearly clarified to him which. And apparently was called 'White Star' by his people.

Callis had already gotten over that shock long ago. What? looking at the bright side, he was pleased that his family was not some kind of evil criminal cult or murder people for a living. Though even if it was, he won't love his father any less.

Plus, It did answer why they were so rich. 

Callis didn't even want to bother thinking of himself being the heir of it all, it's not good for his lil heart.

Anyway, back to the topic. With his father's high standing, it wasn't odd that other kingdoms invited him to offical stuff after all.

Callis, listened curiously at what his uncle? had to say.

"They’ve arranged a banquet in your honor and wish for you to attend, my leige." Fredo continued smoothly.

White Star hummed, casually wiping Callis’s mouth again before offering him another spoonful. He didn’t answer, but that wasn't surprising.

Fredo, clearly expecting this, added, "It could be a lovely experience for Callis. Perhaps seeing the world outside will interest him. Who knows? He might get bored again and decide to repeat today's stunt."

Callis pointedly ignored that last comment.

But the idea of going outside? Now that was interesting.

It had been several months him being in this world and he did want to see actual trees at this point.

He'll take anything over the boring patterns of his ceiling.

His eyes lit up, and immediately looked up at his father, his expression open and hopeful. He didn't need to say anything.

He wanted to go.

White Star glanced down at his son, immediately noticing the obvious excitement in those eyes. Callis wasn't even trying to hide it—his tiny hands had stopped reaching for the next bite, his full attention locked onto him.

Who was he to refuse his son?

Before he knew it, Callis was already in a carriage, taking everything in.

Who knew the world could be so colourful?

Chapter Text

Red, blue, green.

Callis's eyes wandered as colors blurred past the carriage window, his tiny body comfortably tucked in his father's arms. He had seen the world before—lived in it, walked through it, worked in it. But never like this. Never with soft cushions beneath him, the gentle sway of the carriage, and the warmth of someone holding him as he gazed outside.

'Hah… being rich is amazing.'

The sky stretched endlessly, vast and beautiful, while rolling fields bathed in golden sunlight. A sight he had never had the time to pay attention to in his previous life—too busy, too tired, too caught up in survival. Now, as a three-months-old baby, there was nothing else to do but stare.

He could feel the steady rise and fall of his father's breathing against his back.

Callis turned his head slightly, peeking up at White Star, who sat with his eyes closed, face relaxed in a way that seemed… Peaceful. Almost soft.

'He's really been sleeping a lot lately.'

It wasn't that his father ignored him—far from it. The moment Callis so much as shifted, the man's arms would instinctively tighten around him, securing him in place. But most of the time, White Star just… slept. A deep, dreamless sleep, as if making up for something lost.

Callis blinked lazily. 'Must be nice.'

For someone like him—who once struggled to catch even a few hours of rest in his old life—he understood. Even if he didn't know the details, it was obvious that his father had gone too long without it.

A small sigh left his lips as he settled deeper into the warmth of his father's arms.

'Well, as long as I get to nap too, it's fine.'

The gentle sway of the carriage, the muted sounds of hooves against the dirt road, and the sound of his father's heart beat were all he needed. Everything else could wait.

But then—

The carriage slowed.

A shift in the air, the distant murmur of voices, and the towering walls that came into view beyond the window signaled their arrival.

The Empire.

Callis blinked away his sleepiness, his tiny lips pressing into a pout.

'…Already? What a hassle.'

He had been so comfortable.

White Star stirred, his breathing shifting as he opened his eyes. His crimson gaze, still hazy from sleep, softened the moment they landed on Callis. A small, almost invisible smile curled his lips.

Callis blinked up at him, cooed in greeting because was too comfortable to move.

His father still wore that white mask, never removing it—even in front of him. Not once had Callis seen the full face hidden beneath it, but it wasn't like he cared. He wasn't one to judge. If the guy wanted to be mysterious, that was his problem.

That must be his father's dream just like how slacker life was his.

White Star adjusted his hold, his arms shifting with practiced ease as he lifted Callis, stepping out of the carriage. The sudden change in light made the baby squint, his tiny fingers instinctively curling against the fabric of his father's robes.

Then, he saw it.

A massive castle appeared in the distance, clearly too much effort was used to build it. It was the kind of thing that would have impressed him before by the sheer amount of wealth it screamed, but now?

It doesn't even come close to his room.

His eyes trailed downward, and that was when he noticed them. A long line of maids and servants, standing perfectly still with their heads bowed in union. 

In the middle of this weird grand welcoming party stood two figures.

The first was a man, draped in silk so fine it shinned under the light. His posture was poised, every inch of him exuding nobility, but his skin was pallid, almost waxy, as if life had long since abandoned him. Even from this distance, Callis could see the faint tremor in his hands.

He looked like a dying man.

'This guy belongs in bed, not standing out here playing host.'

Beside him stood a child, dressed in equally expensive attire. grey hair, neatly styled with soft brown eyes that turned golden under the sun.

He was young—maybe eight at most—his posture was perfect, his bow practiced.

Callis tilted his head, blinking slowly, then smiled brightly at him.

The kid's gaze froze for a moment, clearly caught off guard by the cute little smile. Callis was fully aware of the effect it had. He was adorable, after all.

 Yet, despite that, the boy's gaze shifted, unable to hide his fear.

'What? Why is he scared of a baby?'

Somehow, This made Callis question his looks for a second. Nah, it wasn't his fault. The kid must be awkward around strangers.

Callis sighed internally.

This was going to be a long day.

Unknown to him, his father was sending a death glare at the child who was on the recieving end of his son's smile.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It was the sickly man who spoke first.

"Welcome to our Mogoru Empire, Your Excellency. I trust that your ride was smooth."

'Mogoru?' The name reminded Callis of something, a place that was once mentioned in a novel he liked to read in his past life. But he quickly dismissed the thought.

It must've been a common name and somehow, coincidentally the author also used it in his novel.

The mans words were directed at White Star, but his curious gaze kept flickering toward Callis.

Callis felt his gaze and stared back, unimpressed.

'Why do they always do that? Haven't they seen a baby before?'

White Star barely acknowledged the greeting, humming lightly before shifting his attention elsewhere. Without a word, he turned and raised a hand in a subtle motion.

From behind him, one of the knights immediately stepped forward, bowed before departing to follow his orders.

The sickly man before them tensed, eyes filled with fear which honestly confused Callis.

Why was everyone scared of his father? Yes he is royalty and has people he ruled over. But he's only a silly awkward single parent.

Before the man could speak, another voice explained to him the situation.

"It’s necessary to make sure the place is secure enough."

Sayeru.

His tone was polite, and Callis liked this guy. He always brought him gifts that he actually needed. 

Obviously they were expensive, and he liked them even more because of that.

"We can't let anything harm our young prince because of your low security."

Callis rolled his eyes at that.

'Over protective bastards.'

But since Sayeru was good to him these days, he'll let it slide. 

The grey-haired boy blinked, looking at Callis in surprised, before avoiding him again. There was still fear in his eyes, but it was softer now. Maybe Callis had won him over with his cute smile.

Callis grinned, snuggled more comfortably in his father's arms.

First, he's gonna nap and let the adults chat.

He was still sleepy from the ride after all.

Chapter Text

"Adin, you must understand—you are our only hope."

Of course, he was. Who else could be?

From the moment he could walk, talk, and think, Adin had known he was different. Unlike the weak, sickly excuses for royalty who came before him—short-lived disappointments who shamed the imperial bloodline—he was strong, intelligent, special. He didn't just accept his birthright.

He claimed it.

Not to mention, who wouldn't adore a well-mannered, charming prince?

By the young age of eight, he was already preparing for his reign—his right as the empire's sole imperial prince. The Mogoru Empire would be his, and he would make it strong, perfect, and like no other.

If that required some dark methods? So be it. History favored the victors, not the saints.

That was why he turned his attention to dead mana. He had became so interested in it, something only dark creatures could weild and was poison to others.

Of course, to experiment with it, he needed to obtain it first.

One thing led to another, and, well—let's just say that everything went according to plan.

It was then that young Adin came to learn of him— The White star, an immortal being who's strength rivals even those of dragons.

Someone who was both feared and respected.

Even if those romours were based on half truths and lies, Adin didn't care. Truth was irrelevant. Perception was power. And White Star? He was the epitome of it. A man who stood above kings, dragons—perhaps even above gods themself.

...Maybe he was getting a bit carried away, but so what?

He wanted him.

Adin knew, if he could make the White Star his ally, his empire would rise. His dreams would become reality.

But first, he had to make White star notice him first. He would prove himself, ensure White Star saw his worth.

So he worked for it. He studied. He schemed. He did everything, everything he could to earn a mere flicker of his attention. And yet—nothing.

Not because of his own shortcomings. No, never.

The fault lay with his father.

Adin sneered at the thought.

His useless, pathetic excuse of an emperor always ruined all his plans! Always getting in his way. How much simpler things would be if the old fool would just die already.

But even a puppet had its uses. Adin would allow him to sit on the throne a little longer, just until he was ready to take it for himself.

And then?

Then, he would dispose of him.

Yet despite his patience, again and again, no matter what he did, he hadn't even managed to be on the receiving end of White Star's gaze. How, how could someone like him—so brilliant, so capable, far surpassed those of his age—be completely ignored?

It was so infuriating! Young Adin couldn't deal well with failure.

He was in the middle of one of his usual hidden anger sprees, tearing through whatever unfortunate objects had been within reach, when the news reached him.

His useless, idiot father had invited White Star to a banquet.

Adin had laughed at the absurdity. His father was so delusional, he knew it was stupid and that it would never happen.

White Star would never agree to such a thing. What kind of fool thought a mere invitation was enough to summon someone like him? Did his father truly believe he held any importance? That his title meant anything to someone as powerful and royal as him?

So, imagine his surprise, when, one day, he heard the knews of him visiting their empire.

It was like ice-cold water had been poured over him.

White Star was coming. Here. To his empire.

His pulse raced.

Adin was so thrilled like a fan meeting thier idols for the first time!

This was it. His chance to be noticed. To prove himself. To begin the path toward becoming the most powerful emperor in all of history!

Young Adin had imagined this moment countless times.

His mind had conjured countless images of what White Star would look like—was he tall? taller then the adults he had seen so far? Was he strong? as strong as the romours said he'd be?

Will his presence be so overwhelming that lesser men would be forced to their knees in submission?

And now, as he stood before him, he realized—

He was exactly as he had imagined.

No, perhaps even grander.

Adin had never bowed to anyone, never even thought of lowering his head, but for the first time in his life, he felt a terrifying urge to submit.

And Adin… Adin had never wanted anything more than this man's acknowledgment.

So why—

Why, when he finally got to meet his idol, not only did he ignore him. But was also holding a child.

A young replica of White star.

Adin clenched his hands into fists. His nails dug into his palms, sharp enough to draw blood. But he barely registered the sting.

He could feel it.

The way White Star held the child—not just with possession, but with care.

Adin had seen fathers before. Had seen nobles dote on their children, pretend to care, raise them with false smiles. But this—it was real.

And it was all for that tiny, weak, helpless child.

When Adin locked eyes with him, he froze.

It smiled at him. The small, beautiful face stretched into a bright, innocent grin—completely unaware, completely unafraid.

Adin's breath hitched. Why was it looking at him like that? Why did the word ...cute cross his mind when he saw it?

He hated it.

Then, a sudden, suffocating pressure crashed over him.

Confused, he looked up. And—for the first time today—he locked eyes with his idol.

Why, when White star finally looked at him, he seemed like he wanted him dead?

What, what had he done wrong?

The unspoken warning was clear, he wanted him to stay away from this child.

He was shocked, outraged, humiliated unlike anything young Adin had ever experienced.

All that because the child smiled at him?

He forced his body his lungs to take in air and his mind to push past the instinctive fear and humiliation he felt, this was unlike him.

He took this moment to think, soon he realized something.

Something far more important than his wounded pride.

White Star had never even glanced at him before. Never spared him a second of his attention, no matter how much Adin worked to be noticed.

But now?

Now he had looked at him, because of that child, his child.

Adin swallowed down his emotions, forcing himself to think clearly. His first mistake had been to assume that White Star valued power above all else, that he would respect ambition when he saw it.

But now, he saw the truth. White Star had never cared about anyone, only the child he held protectively in his arms.

A Prince.

Adin couldn't help but look at the child again, but he quickly looked away.

A slow smirk curled at Adin's lips as his mind spun with possibilities. He now understood that his original approach was doomed to failure .

But that was fine.

If Adin couldn't reach White Star through normal means, he would reach him through his son.

He could already see it—the boy growing up, knowing nothing but his presence beside him, listening to him, trusting him. And when the time came, when it truly mattered—

White Star would have no choice but to acknowledge him.

Then, his dream will only be one step away.

Of course, before any of that could happen, there was a more immediate concern.

First, he needed to avoid being murdered by his future pawn's possessive father.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Our Callis blinked his beautiful eyes slowly, his small body shifting slightly as he adjusted to the light filtering through the room.

The steady rhythm of a heartbeat against him was calming.

His father's heartbeat.

He could never get enough of it, not that he'll ever say that out loud.

Callis yawned quietly, his tiny hands curling instinctively into the fabric of White Star's cloth. His father always held him like this—close, protected, as if letting go even for a moment would be unacceptable.

It was… nice.

A little suffocating, sure, but nice.

He blinked again, his hazy mind catching up to his surroundings. They were seated at a long, ridiculously extravagant dining table, covered with dishes that he couldn't even eat. The golden plates, expensive wines, and meticulously prepared food were wasted on him.

Oh how he wished he could eat again, and by that he meant normal food!

Across from them sat a thin, pale, sickly man—the Mogoru Emperor. Seriously, he's still not dead yet? How is he still alive?

Callis didn't want to think too deeply of it, Not that he cared.

"It is an honor to host you, your excellency"

Callis didn't need to hear the rest to know where this was going and tuned him out immediately.

Flattery. Empty pleasantries. He had no interest in whatever schemes were happening.

He's a slacker, not a politician. 

White Star, as expected, remained silent.

His father had no interest in meaningless conversation. He only ever responded when something was worth his attention.

Callis shifted slightly, settled more comfortably in his father's arms.

The steady sound was lulling him back to sleep, but the distant clatter of dishes and the murmured voices in the background kept him awake.

It was annoying.

He tried to doze off completely, and a small sound escaped him.

A tiny coo.

The effect was instant.

White Star's attention snapped to him immediately, the conversation at the table forgotten.

His grip adjusted ever so slightly, his fingers brushing against Callis's back, as if checking to make sure he was comfortable. His sharp crimson eyes softened—just barely—but enough for Callis to notice.

And then, his father did something that sent made everyone paying attention to them completely silent.

He smiled.

It wasn't much. Just a faint curve of the lips, subtle and barely there. But it was a smile nonetheless.

Callis, already used to it, didn't react much.

He rather liked it when his father smiled, he looked even more handsome.

'I must've gotten my looks from him.'

A silly thought really, but it made his heart warm up.

Sayeru chuckled softly from his place nearby. "It seems the young master is awake now."

White Star didn't respond. He was still looking at Callis, as if waiting for another sound, another small movement.

Callis stretched slightly, his tiny hands moving against White Star. He had no real destination in mind—just movement for the sake of it. Since they all knew he was awake, it was no use pretending.

Sayeru smiled. "Perhaps he's restless. Maybe he wants to explore, my Lord. You did bring him here for a change of scenery, after all."

At that, Callis perked up slightly.

Right.

That was the whole point of this trip. 

The Emperor, trying to gain favour, took the chance to comment, "If that's the case, my son could take the young prince and show him around the castle."

Callis tilted his head slightly.

Exploring the castle sounded far better than sitting here, and in all honesty, he would rather leave then stay with a bunch of greedy men.

His eyes shifted toward the boy sitting beside the Emperor and observed him for a moment.

He didn't seem like the kind of kid who would be annoying to deal with. If anything, he looked a little shy—like someone who was used to being quiet and well-behaved.

Plus, Callis had a first good impression of him so he didn't mind.

He shifted slightly in White Star's hold.

His father, of course, noticed instantly.

White Star's fingers tapped lightly against Callis's sleeve—a subtle sign of his reluctance. It was clear he had no interest in letting Callis go anywhere.

Callis sighed internally.

This awkward, handsome father of his was too much for his heart to handle. 

Sayeru, sensing the hesitation, stepped in smoothly. "I will accompany them. There will be no risk."

Callis could already tell—his father wasn't going to agree.

Unless…

He shifted again, letting out a soft sound, his tiny hands reaching slightly toward the hallway and looked at his father with an award winning smile and puppy eyes.

White Star sighed.

His father's crimson eyes finally flickered toward towards the young boy in the room, and the air shifted just slightly.

Adin sat up a little straighter under the attention.

"If anything happens to my son," he said, "I will personally make sure you won't see the light of day."

The Emperor let out a nervous chuckle, waving a hand. "O-Of course! My son would never let any harm come to your child. Isn't that right, Adin?"

Adin nodded, his expression earnest. "Of course, Father."

Callis blinked.

'Adin?'  The name tugged at something in his memory, he blinked again, trying to piece it together.

A villain.

That was it. The name was similar to that of a villain from a novel he had read back in his past life. Some sadistic, power hungry ambitious prince who was also a sociopath-like bastard, using whatever means necessary to achieve his goals.

…But it was probably just a coincidence.

Callis shook the thought away. There was no reason to think too deeply about it. Names overlapped all the time. Besides, the Adin sitting in front of him didn't look like that at all.

He's a shy, polite child.

It was almost… cute.

White Star still didn't look convinced, but Callis shifted forward again, this time a little more insistent. Finally, after another long pause, White Star let out a second, more reluctant sigh.

Without a word, he allowed Sayuro to take Callis from his arms.

Finally, Callis felt like he was going to suffocate! Not that his father's touch was unpleasant—it was just too much.

Sayeru held him carefully, adjusting his grip as he turned toward the boy. "After you, young guide."

Adin nodded, rising from his seat with grace.

The boy was watching him carefully, his soft smile in place. Callis returned the look with an amused tilt of his head and offered a smile of his own.

'What a sweet kid'

This should be nice.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"This place, Callis." 

Yes, Adin had came to know of his name when Sayeru, who was holding him, happily introduced them to eachother.

Callis didn't mind, he quite liked this kid.

Adin was going on and on about the empire's grand history, clearly proud of it.  "It's everything. The best of the best. Our empire has been thriving for centuries. No kingdom could ever compare to us." he said, gesturing widely as they strolled through the beautiful garden,

Callis yawned, his eyes drifting lazily across the flowers and trees. He wasn't really listening, but that was fine. The garden was calm, the air fresh, and there was absolutely nothing wrong with just taking a moment to do nothing. A perfect slacker's paradise.

Plus, he quite liked gardens.

"Not even the Roan Kingdom comes close," Adin continued, his voice full of confidence, unaware that the word 'Roan' had just shattered Callis' peaceful bubble.

Callis' eyes snapped open, his gaze focusing on Adin for the first time since they'd started walking.

'Roan?'

As in, the Roan? The one from The Birth of a Hero novel? His mind stumbled, tripping over the connections that were rapidly forming. 

It couldn't be.

His records were going wild.

Adin seemed oblivious to Callis' inner turmoil and continued, "It's a so-so kingdom that is neither strong nor weak. Still, they're no match for our empire."

'No. No, there was no way.' Too many coincidences now. First the empire's name, then Adin's, and now this? That's too many coincidences. His brain tried to connect the dots, but the more he thought about it, the more it felt like a bad joke.

His slacker life—the peaceful, silly life he'd been hoping for—was at risk.

'Wait... does that mean this kid is a future sociopath?!'

His lil body couldn't handle the stress that came with the unconscious use of his ability, not when everything in his head was flipping over itself.

His face slowly turned red, and before he could even attempt to control it, his nose started bleeding, his eyes watered from the strain... His vision blurred slightly.

It was all too much—Callis hated this.

Sayeru, who had been holding him in his arms, immediately sensed the change. "Your highness?"

Then he saw the blood.

Panic hit instantly.

"Callis?!" Sayeru jolted, his grip on the tiny body tightening. He looked down at the blood smeared across Callis's upper lip, then at the red staining his own sleeve where Callis had nuzzled against him. His stomach dropped. 

Adin, who saw his future pawn like this, froze. Should he help?  Adin felt lost for a second but quickly made a decision.

"Healer!" Adin's voice cracked as he yelled toward the guards. "Call a healer! Now!"

Sayeru, on the other hand, was a mess.

The small body in his arms was going limp.

No. No, no, no—

"Callis, stay awake!" Sayeru's focus was entirely on Callis, his brows furrowed with worry as he wiped his nose with trembling fingers. "It's okay," he muttered, mostly to himself, trying to steady his voice. "It's okay, your highness."

It was not okay.

Callis, in the middle of his existential crisis, was so done with this.

He was tired.

He felt stupid for using Record like that.

Adin was still yelling, guards were scrambling, and someone was probably sprinting off for a healer, but Callis couldn't care less. His eyelids drooped.

He felt like he should be more worried—passing out wasn't exactly a good thing—but honestly? Sleep sounded amazing right now.

His father is going to lose his mind when he sees this, isn't he?

Yeah, no. He'll deal with that later.

For now, sleep.

Chapter Text

The door slammed open, the room freezing as White Star stepped in, his gaze immediately drawn to his son.

Blood, too much blood.

The healers scrambled around the bed, hands trembling as they fussed over the small, unmoving child. Everything to him was blurry, nothing reached him. All that existed was the blood—too much for someone so small.

In the middle of it all lay Callis, his son, motionless, pale, and so terribly quiet.

Sayeru was already a mess—disheveled, blood stained his hands—his son's blood— and stood frozen by the bed. His face pale, his eyes wide in shock. His mouth moved, but the panic stifled any sound. 

"My liege..." Sayeru finally managed, his voice hoarse and weak.

White Star didn't even look at him. He moved slowly, each step heavy, careful. When he reached the bedside, a healer—her hands shaking—dared to speak.

"I-it's just a nosebleed, your excellency. He... he passed out from the shock. He's not—he's not seriously injured."

It sounded like a lie.

White Star's hand hovered over his son,His fingers shook—just barely—before gently brushing back the messy hair stuck to his baby's forehead.

His son was so small, his skin so warm but still too pale. He looked peaceful, like he was sleeping, but there was no movement, no flutter of his eyes, no sleepy murmur.

His eyes scanned the small face, searching for any sign, any movement.

Too quiet.

White Star's voice cut through the room, low and cold.

"Who did this?"

No one spoke. No one dared to answer.

Then—rushed footsteps were heard and in came Adin, looking as fake as ever. Behind him, his father—the emperor, ugly and frail—shuffled in, struggling with each step.

"I… I just heard of what happened, and—" The emperor's voice wavered, fear and concern evident, but his words were cut short.

The emperor crumbled to his knees, his hands pressed to the floor as he gasped for breath, his face contorted in horror. Adin on the other hand, trembled. His gaze moved nervously toward the bed where Callis lay, still and unresponsive, blood staining his clothes, the silence of the room was deafening.

White Star didn't look at either of them—his gaze stayed locked on his son. His pale face was smeared with his own blood, his eyes closed, still and fragile. 

White Star saw red.

"I gave you my trust," his words cut through the air like ice. "I let your pathetic excuse of a son take my child around. And not even a moment later, this is how he returns to me?!"

The emperor's face crumpled. Adin's stomach twisted with dread.

He opened his mouth, trying to form words, but they stuck in his throat. The words he had prepared, the excuses he had clung to—they slipped away, useless and empty.

He had been with him. He had been right there when it happened. But Adin couldn't understand it. His pawn had been fine just moments ago. Why was he lying there, so still, so… lifeless?

'Why did it happen? What went wrong?'

The emperor couldn't even speak. He just knelt there, his face full of fear, too weak to even attempt an explanation.

White Star turned to face them, his face showed nothing of his emotions. 

Adin's heart pounded in his chest. He didn't know what to say anymore. His mind raced. It was not his fault that the boy suddenly pass out. 

'This wasn't fair! How could he have known? How could he have stopped it?'

"Tell me, Adin," White Star said, his voice low, barely more than a whisper. Adin didn't know if he should be happy that his idol called his name for the first time, or should he fear for his life right now. 

"How did this happen?"

Adin felt his throat go dry. He opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. His heart was beating so loudly he could hear it in his ears. He could feel White Star’s gaze pinning him down.

He had to act fast.

'Think, Adin. Think!'

His eyes landed on Sayeru, standing off to the side—blood still fresh on his hands. 

Adin's panic latched onto him. A scapegoat. A chance.

"It was him," Adin blurted, his voice shaking. "He was the one holding him—he's the one at fault!"

Sayeru's head snapped toward Adin. For a heartbeat, there was nothing but stillness. Then, slowly, a smirk twisted across his lips, a dark, mocking curve.

Adin's stomach dropped.

He had barely processed the look before he felt it—Sayeru wanted to kill him. Right here. Right now.

"Blaming me?" Sayeru's voice was a low, dangerous drawl. "A guilty child grasping for excuses. I'm too old for this."

Adin's face burned, everyone was watching him. The guards, the healers, the White Star himself.

Panic filled his mind. It was a mistake, yet he had to make them see—make White Star believe him.

"I didn't mean to—It wasn't my fault!" Adin’s voice cracked, trying to defend himself. "He just—"

Sayeru turned to his liege, expression calm as if he wasn't accused just now by a mere child. "Believe what you must, my liege" he said evenly. "I have no issue with whatever you decide is right."

White Star didn't answer right away. Instead, he bent down and lifted Callis into his arms. His child was so small, his weight almost nothing. 

Just then, a tiny shift—so slight it almost went unnoticed. Callis' face scrunched up briefly and a quiet, drowsy murmur slipping from his lips before his body relaxed against White Star's chest, as if he had sensed him.

White Star's breath hitched and relief warmed up to his heart.

His son was okay. 

He relaxed.

His sharp gaze lifted, he turned to the kneeling emperor and his trembling son, his grip still firm around Callis' body. His voice, when he spoke, was void of nothing.

"I warned you," he started. "If anything happened to my child, you will not see the light of day."

The emperor's face crumpled, his knees buckling, helpless. Adin's heart sank, fear twisting painfully in his chest. 'No—no, it couldn't end like this.'

"Please! Please, I didn't—"

White Star didn't even glance at them as he gave a single, silent signal.

Sayeru smiled. 

The knights moved.

Adin's breath hitched—then came the hands grabbing him, the armored men dragging him away. "Wait—wait! No—! I can explain! It wasn't my fault—please!" He twisted, his screams echoed down the hall.

The emperor gasped, tried to beg, plead—but it didn't matter.

White star didn't spare them a single glance.

Because in his world, mercy was a weakness. And he had none to give.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The dark halls of Le dungeons were heavy with screams. The echoes bounced off the cold, old stone walls, creating a haunting symphony in the air. The scent of blood was thick—hot, metallic, suffocating.

for some of course, but not our uncle Fredo.

He stood at the edge of the room, watching without a hint of pity. 

The old emperor lay sprawled on the ground, beaten and broken. Blood seeped from countless wounds, mixing with sweat and tears on the cold, stained floor. The vampires didn't hold back—they tore at him with vengeance for their prince. 

They left marks that would never heal, even if he somehow lived.

He wouldn't survive.

Not far from the mangled emperor, Adin was held down. Two vampires pinned his arms, their grips iron-tight. Blood crusted around his swollen eyes—one already blind, the other uncertain. His breathing was shaky, hitching between quiet, broken sobs. There was no mercy here. Only waiting and fear.

His liege made sure to blind this kid, saying he didn't like the way he looked at their prince.

And who was Fredo to say no?

Fredo's gaze lingered on Adin for a moment longer. The boy's shoulders trembled, his fingers clawing weakly at the floor. He looked lost, broken...

And Fredo's heart burned with rage.

He had heard what happened at the palace—how Callis had been hurt, how his lil highness had suffered. How close they had come to losing the boy who held the White Star's fragile, rare affection. 

The sight of his tiny, fragile body covered in blood haunted Fredo's mind. If his liege and his son are rested now, it was because Fredo made sure they had no reason to think of anything else but each other anymore.

As the emperor's voice gave out—nothing but a ragged, rasping whisper—Fredo felt a familiar presence at his side.

His son, Naru, stood beside him, black eyes sharp, jaw clenched. The boy—his son in all but blood—watched the scene quietly. His gaze landed on the pathetic prince, who lay half-conscious, almost dead. 

He didn't beg—he seemed to know it was pointless. Only shaky breaths and quiet, muffled cries showed he was still alive.

"You came," Fredo muttered, his voice low.

"I heard," Naru replied. There was anger evident in his voice that was barely held back. Fredo knew it well. Naru had always been protective of their highness, his love for the boy was stronger than he liked to show.

"He's fine now," Fredo assured him softly. "Resting. His excellency is watching over him."

Naru's shoulders eased slightly, but his eyes stayed locked on Adin—bloody, broken, and powerless.

"Is this enough?" he asked quietly.

Fredo looked at the emperor's limp, ruined body—his last breaths fading away. He looked at Adin, whose eyes struggled to focus, whose face was a mess of cuts and bruises. The boy's future had shattered, although still alive, he was left to rot alongside his father's dying form.

"Maybe," Fredo replied. "They brought this on themselves."

Naru's gaze hardened, wanting nothing more but to watch them die as slow as possible.

Even if their liege ordered for the prince to stay alive, since he's still usefull, the half blood dragon wanted him dead.

"And for you?" Fredo asked gently. "Is it enough for you?"

Naru met his father's eyes, they were as warm as the day he first took him in. Fredo, in the other hand, saw the boy he had taken in, a child who had known more cruelty than kindness.

Naru's fists were clenched tight. "For now." He tried to sound emotionless, but his voice betrayed him.

Fredo rested a hand on Naru's head, gently patting him. Together, they watched as the vampires stepped back, their work complete.

The emperor was dead, leaving the boy next to him alone, traumatized.

In the dungeons, mercy was a gift no one deserved.

Chapter Text

Cale was finally sitting up on his own.

He grinned, rocking slightly just to test his balance. He almost fell over once, but who cared? He was doing it. Three months old, and already proving his superiority over that damned gravity!

If that wasn't impressive, what was?

Of course, his father was making a huge deal out of it.

His father, Deruth, rushed to him as if he had just witnessed a miracle. "Cale! You're sitting!" His voice cracked slightly with excitement, but that was normal for a proud parent, right?

Cale grinned, puffed out his cheeks and lifted his arms high, like he'd just won his first battle! which he did. 

"Aaaah!"

That's right. Praise him.

Deruth practically swooned, clasping his hands over his heart. "My brilliant son! You're amazing!"

Cale beamed up at him, soaking in the praise. The attention was great. He liked it.

This father of his was way different from his previous life, and he's going to milk every effection he could get because of it!

But as much as he enjoyed the praise, a quiet thought tugged at him, pulling his eyes downward.

The plushie in his lap—a lazy red fox with half-closed eyes and the softest fur. A gift from his father. It reminded him of Callis. 

Cale ran his tiny fingers over the plush, pressing his chubby cheek against it. His twin. His baby brother.

He still remembered him so clearly. 

He missed him.

It was strange. He wasn't sad—at least, not all the time—but it was a quiet feeling that lingered in the back of his mind. He just wasn't whole without him.

A little smile tugged at his lips as he imagined Callis sitting beside him, looking as lazy and unbothered as always. He could almost hear his twin's tiny, unimpressed sigh.

Then, suddenly, he was being lifted.

Cale blinked, looking up to see Deruth's gentle smile as he scooped him into his arms.

'What now?'

Deruth held him close, rubbing his back in slow circles. "Let's go see Beacrox," he said, his voice warm. "He's preparing something special for you."

The scent of sizzling butter and warm spices filled the air as they entered the kitchen, the sounds of clattering dishes and the steady rhythm of a knife against a cutting board echoing around them.

Beacrox's kitchen.

Cale perked up immediately, his big round eyes locking onto the young chef, who was busy stirring a pot.

His kitchen, yes his. Deruth gave it to him when he noticed how talented Beacrox was. Cale had almost sworn he saw the young chef smile that day.

Anyway back to this discription thing that the author haz to write.

The kitchen was as spotless as ever. Not a single stray ingredient, not a single speck of dust dared to exist in his domain.

It was almost terrifying.

Almost.

Cale, of course, was not afraid. He had been here often enough to know that despite Beacrox's sharp eyes and stiff posture, there was a soft spot for kids—especially babies.

He sometimes wondered if, in his past life, he'd been like that too.

Well, whatever the case, Cale liked this Beacrox. He didn't mind him at all.

The moment they entered, Beacrox straightened and turned to greet them, his expression the same cool indifference as always. But despite his usual impassive face, he still performed a perfect bow upon seeing the nobleman carrying his son. "My lord, young master."

Then, just as his head rose, his eyes met Cale's.

Cale waved his tiny arm in the young chef's direction, his fingers wiggling in greeting.

Honestly, it was adorable.

Beacrox paused, blinking at the sight of the tiny baby waving at him. Then, just as Cale expected, he gave the smallest nod. And how could Cale not notice it?

His ghost of a smile.

It was hidden, but still there. Cale had been watching him long enough to know that Beacrox didn't outright ignore things he found amusing or cute.

Cale grinned to himself. 'He likes me.'

Deruth chuckled as he gently adjusted Cale in his arms. "He's been excited since I mentioned the lil surprise," he said, his voice full of fondness.

Beacrox, tending now to the dish in progress, only hummed in acknowledgment. "I see." He glanced at the plush fox in Cale's grip but said nothing about it.

Cale, on the other hand, found himself growing restless. Being carried was fine and all, but he wanted to move. He wanted to see what Beacrox was making.

Twisting his tiny body, he stretched his arms out again—this time, not just in greeting, but in clear demand.

Beacrox looked at him, a small hint of amusement in his eyes.

Cale wiggled his fingers expectantly. 'Pick me up, you coward.'

Teasing the young chef had become one of his favourite things to do to pass the time.

Of course, Cale knows that Beacrox will never refuse him.

There was a beat of silence. Then, very slowly, Beacrox reached forward and took Cale from his father's arms who handed him without complain. He held him carefully, as if unsure of how to handle something so small, but his grip was firm and secure.

Satisfied, Cale plopped his head against the young chef's shoulder and let out a tiny, pleased hum.

Deruth let out a soft laugh, clearly amused. "He really does like you."

Beacrox didn't respond immediately. His expression remained neutral, but there was something oddly careful in the way he adjusted his hold, making sure Cale was comfortable.

The moment was peaceful. Warm, even.

Which, of course, meant it was the perfect time for someone else to arrive.

"I see the young master is getting comfortable."

That smooth, calm voice sent a tiny shiver down Cale's spine.

Ron.

'Ugh, not him again.'

Cale didn''t even need to look up to know what was happening. Ron stood in the doorway, as perfect and harmless as ever, but Cale knew better!

Ron was dangerous. 

Ron's gaze flickered toward him abd his son, amusement glinting in his eyes. "I must say, young master, you seem to have quite the fondness for the kitchen."

Cale, still nestled against Beacrox, let out a small babble in response.

'I'm innocent! I was kidnapped here, old man!'

Ron chuckled. "Ah, I see."

Cale didn't know what he was agreeing to, but he felt like he was being teased.

Beacrox, as usual, ignored his father's antics and went back to stirring the pot, one hand still supporting the baby without trouble.

Deruth, seeing the young boys so at peace, only smiled. "Well, he has good taste. Beacrox is an excellent cook."

Ron tilted his head, eyes gleaming. "Indeed. But one must wonder if young master Cale is here for the food or for Beacrox himself.”

Beacrox paused. Then, very slowly, he turned his head to glare at his father.

Ron simply smiled wider.

Cale chose to ignore them all and focused on his plushie, his tiny fingers gripping its soft fur. He squished its lazy face, then patted it as if reassuring himself that it was still there.

He's a baby, alright! Give him some slack!

The kitchen got lively so quickly. It was nice. It was comforting.

...But, He still wished Callis was here to share these memories with...

His small hands clutched the fox plushie a little tighter.

'I wonder what you're doing right now.'

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

'Being alive is the best.'

That's what his team leader used to say, and Kim Rok Soo, now Callis, lives by it.

So, when he found out he was inside a novel? Maybe he overreacted a little. But could anyone blame him? He was a shocked three months old child, faced with a future sociopath mini-villain! So yes, this was entirely Adin's fault.

It had been a while since then, he guessed. After all, he's somehow back in his room now.

He had already made peace with it. Kind of.

Callis yawned, rolling onto his side and hugging his red turtle plushie closer. The soft fabric was comforting. His free hand rested on the smooth surface of the black egg resting beside him.

Yeah. This was his life now.

His mind drifted back to the last person who saw him before he passed out. Sayeru. The man had been holding him when everything went dark.

…Right. He probably traumatized him, didn't he?

Last thing Sayeru saw was a three-month-old baby bleeding out in his arms. Callis sighed, He might not be able to do anything about it now, but he'll make sure to treat the guy better. After all, the man was surprisingly reliable.

For now, though, he was going to take this moment to process what he knew so far.

The Birth of a Hero.

He had managed to finish reading up to the fifth volume before he fell asleep in his past life. 

The Novel was about the birth of the heroes in the Western and Eastern continents. As well as their trails and growth. It followed Choi Han, a Korean high schooler who was suddenly transported into another world.

Of course, he had a long life span that probably matched dragons. He pretty much never ages.

'This wasn't too bad.'

And as far as Callis could guess from the stories his uncle Fredo told him, he's in the Eastern continent.

Far, far away from the main character.

Plus, he probably got reincarnated in a kingdom that was probably mentioned in the volumes after the fifth or never! Callis wasn't worried at all about being near the protagonist.

In fact, it should stay this way! And if he's lucky, he won't meet him at all! Being a prince and all.

Callis finally felt that his title was useful for once.

But even as he tried to reassure himself, there was one thing that stuck in his mind as he lay there, trying to process all this new information.

It was a detail that had bugged him since he first realized that he's inside this novel world.

Cale Henituse.

A minor vilain of volume one, an individual that the main character mercilessly beat up.

The trash of the count's family. 

The Birth of a Hero was very descriptive about each of the character's appearance. That was why Callis, who has a twin with said name, one who had both red hair and reddish brown eyes, came to the conclusion that this trash, must be his brother.

Of course, his father also came to mind, but his last name was different! 

Not to mention that Callis still remembers his first home, it wasn't difficult to connect the dots.

If his brother was truly the minor villain... does that mean that count neglected his son?

Callis couldn't help but wonder.

Maybe, there was more to the way he reacted negatively when Choi han mentioned Harris village.

Callis closed his eyes, if his twin knew that he was abandoned there, if his twin knew what Jour had done to him.

'No wonder he hated that village.'

Cale had likely grown up with that knowledge—the knowledge that his twin was left behind, while he, for some strange reason, got to live a comfortable life in the Henituse family.

What if, just maybe, Jour, went back to the village after all those years, to look for him? 

Callis furrowed his brow as the thought crossed his mind. Maybe, Jour went to find him... only to die in the same village that she had once abandoned him.

He didn't care much of his Jour's possible future fate. Whether she lived or died had nothing to do with him anymore.

What he cared most about, was his twin.

'There's still many years before anything happens.'

His hand, which had been holding the plushie, clenched. No matter what, he won't let any harm come to his only brother.

Kim Rok Soo will make sure of it.

Chapter Text

'Gardens are nice.'

Callis lay on his stomach, basking in the sun like the tiny slacker he was born to be. The soft grass tickled his chubby fingers, the sky stretched wide and endless above him, and the gentle breeze carried the scent of flowers. Truly, life couldn't be better.

The black dragon egg rested beside him, snug against his tiny arm. He had insisted on bringing it outside, not just because he could, but because he wanted to. The egg was his. His father gave it to him. Even before knowing what fate awaited the poor thing, he had already decided to take care of it.

Dragons were meant to be free, not tamed.

That was why he was going to let this one decide its own future when it hatchs. Until then? He was on egg-sitting duty.

'I need more information about hatchlings.'

Callis was lost in his own thougts when—

A poke.

Callis blinked.

Another poke.

He turned his head, meeting the soft black eyes of a certain half-blood dragon who had taken it upon himself to invade his peaceful kingdom.

Naru, his uncle's son.

The same sneaky brat who had broken into his room that night.

Callis watched, unimpressed, as Naru reached out to poke the egg again.

A tiny hand smacked his wrist away with all the power of a five-month-old baby—which, admittedly, wasn't much. But it got the message across.

The Dragon half-blood recoiled, rubbing his hand with an exaggerated sigh. "Alright, alright. No poking."

Callis, satisfied, rested his cheek against his plushie, regaining his energy for his daily crawling practice.

After the unfortunate incident two months ago, his awkward father had gotten ridiculously clingy.

Like, glued to his side clingy.

Callis hadn't been able to so much as breathe without White Star suddenly appearing like some overprotective ghost. It was almost impressive, really. Almost.

It gave him more heart attacks than any babies his age.

And Callis, being the incredibly patient and understanding son that he was, totally not because he didn't feel like dealing with it, had let White Star do as he pleased.

He did traumatize his old man after all. 

Plus, Callis liked being held in his father's chest, his muscles were always welcomed.

So, he never complained.

For two months.

That was two months of having a literal king—who obviously had work to do—following his every move, treating him like some delicate, about to shatter piece of glass.

He had enough.

So, he did what any exhausted slacker would do when faced with an overbearing parent: he staged his escape.

Okay, not an escape exactly, but the next best thing—he 'hinted' that he was starting to crawl.

Which led to Fredo witnessing his totally real, very difficult practice session. And then, of course, White Star got the news and—because his father's logic was always a little extreme—he decided the only solution was to give Callis an entire garden to practice in.

Yes. A full garden.

Because, obviously, crawling indoors was far too dangerous.

Did Callis question it? No. Did he take full advantage of it? Absolutely.

Of course, he wasn't allowed to be alone, which was why Naru was here too, watching him like a nosy little lizard.

'Speaking of which—'

Callis turned his head just in time to see Naru reaching toward the egg again.

A chubby hand smacked his away.

Naru scowled, shaking his fingers. "You really like this egg, huh?"

Callis blinked lazily at him, then hugged the egg closer, making his stance very clear. He didn't care what anyone said—he was keeping it safe.

He rather the dragon remember him for this than possibly a future dragon catcher like his father.

Yes, his father had sat him down and told him all about his lineage and how they are the natural rivals? nature had set for dragons. 

Callis understood all that, it made sense in a way. 

Even the strongest has a flaw—nature always finds a way to balance power.

Still, it didn't mean he'll go his way and fight dragons! he's not crazy alright!

He yawned, stretching his tiny arms before smacking his lips lazily. The sun was warm, the breeze was nice, and Naru was sulking beside him. 

Lying here all day sounded really tempting...

But no. He had a mission.

If he wanted to achieve his glorious slacker life, crawling was a necessary step. Movement meant independence. Independence meant freedom. And freedom meant... naps wherever he wanted.

Yes. This was an investment in his future.

Like a silly young warrior on a mission, Callis rolled onto his stomach, pushing himself up with his chubby arms. He felt like an adventurer—except his adventure involved moving more than five inches without face-planting.

Naru, sitting cross-legged beside him, arched a brow. "Oh? Are you actually gonna try now?"

Callis gave him a look. Of course, he was trying. What did Naru think he was doing? Lounging around uselessly? Well, yes, but that was beside the point.

Ignoring his annoying cousin?, he glanced at the black dragon egg sitting beside him which almost seemed to vibrate in encouragement. He didn't know if it could understand him yet, but he liked to think it could. Maybe it was cheering him on in its own way.

Fueled by the support of his tiny, yet very loyal, audience, Callis took a deep breath. Lifted his knee, shifted forward—

And Plopped.

Face-first into the grass.

A heavy silence fell.

Callis stayed there, unmoving. Maybe if he didn't move, he could pretend that didn't just happen.

Naru made a noise. A weird, choked sound. Callis peeked up just in time to see the older boy biting his lip, shoulders shaking slightly.

He was holding back laughter.

Callis narrowed his eyes.

"Pfft—okay, no, you're doing great." He coughed into his hand, looking away. "Really! That was...a good first attempt."   

'Liar.'

But then—a small wobble.

The egg shifted slightly, like it was telling him try again.

'Fine.'

Callis took a deep breath, lifted his head, and pushed himself up again. His arms trembled a little, but he was more careful this time. One knee forward. Then the other.

He was moving.

"Oh," Naru said, blinking in surprise. Then he grinned. "Hey, look at you. You're actually doing it!"

Callis huffed in satisfaction. Of course he was doing it. He was—

... Tired.

Yeah, no. That was enough.

After barely making it a few feet, he gave up and collapsed onto his stomach, letting out a soft sigh. That was enough progress for today.

Naru shook his head, amused. "What, that's it?" He nudged the egg slightly. "Your little buddy here thinks you can go a little farther."

Callis, cheek smushed against the grass, just blinked at him. No. He could go farther. But he wouldn't.

The egg wobbled again, almost like it was encouraging him.

Naru, still trying to keep a straight face, leaned on his hand."Well, not bad for a first try. You'll be running around in no time." 

'And my liege will be pleased to see the record of it.' The young half dragon thought, hiding away the orb.

Callis let out a small, content sigh and closed his eyes. He crawled, he conquered, and now?

Nap time.

Naru chuckled softly. "Yeah, yeah. Good job, lil highness."

The egg gave one last wobble, as if agreeing.

And with that, Callis dozed off, perfectly happy with his day's hard work.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

His self proclaimed uncle was crazy.

Callis, now kidnapped in what had to be the most ridiculous outfit a baby could ever wear, stared up at Fredo, blinking in complete confusion.

The silk? Way too fancy for a baby. It was so soft and it practically sparkled. Seriously, who dresses a kid like this? Callis just blinked again. Well, at least it was comfy.

"Look at you," Fredo mumbled, pacing back and forth, "so cute, so perfect. No way you're the spawn of that evil liege. I should be your father. I'd raise you better! Teach you things a proper son should know." Fredo's voice was practically purring with excitement, but Callis?

He was just chilling.

Okay, for a second, he entertained the idea of having Fredo as his dad, but nah, still preferred his father.

Fredo's muscles were impressive, he had to admit. But they didn't hold a candle to his father's. Callis wasn't about to say that out loud, though. Not that it mattered; he was perfectly fine with being carried around. 

The whole situation was weird, but comfy enough to let slide.

Fredo finally reached his destination: a massive bed that looked like it came straight out of a fantasy. He placed Callis down with ridiculous care, making sure his plushie was tucked in beside him. Then he gave Callis this overly serious look.

"Stay here," Fredo said, sounding way too serious for the situation. "I'll be right back with something special for you."

'Special?' Callis raised his tiny eyebrow but he was a little too sleepy to care.

Once Fredo was gone, the room felt way too empty. Callis sighed exhaustedly, his lil eyes scanning for something to do while he waits.

And there it was. A big table covered in scrolls.

Really? Who leaves scrolls unattended with a baby in the room?

But hey, not his problem.

He wriggled his little body, plushie in tow, heading straight for the table beside the bed. Crawling wasn’t exactly fun, but Callis had accepted it. He wasn't great at it yet, but it was faster than just lying there, doing nothing.

When he finally reached the table, he grabbed a scroll and squinted at it like he had any idea what it was. A magic scroll? He'd seen those on his father's table before.

While he was looking at it like an expert, what? he never had the chance to look at one this close before!, his plushie started to roll off the bed.

Oh, great.

Callis stretched out his tiny arm to grab it before it hit the floor. Of course, trying to hold onto the scroll while doing that wasn't exactly his brightest move. As he reached for the plushie, the scroll slipped right out of his hand and got torn. And then in came the disaster.

Callis felt himself tipping over—uh-oh.

He braced for impact. After all, babies weren't exactly built to fall gracefully, right? The moment he tipped, he thought he'd slam into the cold floor, but... instead, he was met with something soft and fluffy—snow?

'Wait. What?'

The air smelled fresh, and the snow was everywhere. 

'Seriously, did I just teleport?' 

Callis sighed, this is going to be a long night.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The golden dragon, Eruhaben, was strolling around his lair, enjoying the peaceful night. 

The stars were beautiful tonight. His golden hair shimmered softly under the starlight as he watched the world around him. He could just sit there and look at them for hours, he supposed he'd visit the World Tree soon. Maybe check on the young elves, too.

Unlike most of his kind, he didn't completely isolate himself and occasionally intracted with others. Eruhaben continued to admire the night sky, then, he felt a faint trace of magic.

It wasn’t strong, but it was enough to catch his attention.

'Hmm, Who had the courage to come to my lair at this hour?'

Curious, he followed the trace. It wasn't far and most definitely terribly coordinated.  

And then he topped dead in his tracks.

A child.

There, lying on the cold snow floor, was a child.

The scene was odd. The child—no more than five months old, if anything—was staring up at the stars, a plushie tightly clutched in his tiny hands. His hair was a brilliant shade of red, almost fiery in the moonlight. 

His skin was pale, soft and healthy, and his eyes—those eyes—were the most captivating shade of amber Eruhaben had ever seen, they even had a hint of brown to it which made it even more unique.

Eruhaben tilted his head, examining the child. The little one was well-fed, dressed in fine clothing. His robes were perfect, clearly from a noble house. But what was he doing here, all alone? This wasn't a place for a child, not a place for anyone to be exact.

His golden eyes softened as he watched the child, still lying on the snow, completely unaware of his presence.

"How did you even get here?" he muttered to himself, stepping closer.

The child shifted slightly, still holding onto the plushie like it was the most important thing in the world. Eruhaben knelt down, taking in the sight before him.

Even though the child was small—so small compared to him—there was a certain charm about him.

'He's beautiful.'

"Hello, young one," Eruhaben finally spoke, his voice low and smooth, but carrying a gentle curiosity. "Lost or just... enjoying the view?"

The child blinked slowly, turning his head toward the dragon. Eruhaben wondered if this child was even aware of what he was seeing. 'Was he sick?'

The child didn't react with fear or surprise, though. Instead, he just stared up at Eruhaben.

"I didn't expect to find someone out here tonight," Eruhaben mused. The child's calmness was... unsettling in a way. There was no panic, no confusion.

Like he had accepted..whatever this was.

The dragon's gaze lingered on the child. It would be a lie to say he wasn't worried about the young human. If anything, he'll take him right then and there.

However, he needed his consent or else it'll be considered kidnapping.

And Eruhaben was too old to deal with that.

"Well, I suppose I can't just leave you here." He felt his heart skip when the child tilted his head. "Mind if I hold you, child?"

The boy looked at him for a second then nodded, that was enough for the golden dragon to act.

With a sigh, Eruhaben reached down, gently lifting the child in one hand. The child didn't make a sound, just looked up at him with those curious eyes, still clutching the plushie with care. Eruhaben carried him with ease, as if he weighed nothing at all.

Which, to a dragon like him, he really did weight like nothing at all.

"Well, I guess you're coming with me for now," Eruhaben said, making his way back through the lair. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

In another continent, way far from where Callis was.

Fredo walked into the room, arms full of gifts. He had gone all out—silk blankets, rare toys, even a ridiculous golden rattle. White Star would probably scoff, but whatever. Callis deserved the best.

"Alright, lil highness, I—"

Silence.

The room was empty.

Fredo blinked.

Then, slowly, he set the gifts down.

Callis had just started crawling. Not walking. Just crawling. So it'll be fine, he just has to look for him. Maybe he got bored and hid somewhere. 

Fredo was not panicking.

Maybe the young prince had just rolled to the side, hidden under a blanket? But no—the blankets were still neatly in place.

A slow exhale left his lips, kept his calm and thinked for a second. He shouldn't have gotten far.

Still, Fredo checked under the bed, in case the kid had somehow managed to fall and roll underneath. Nothing.

The closet? Empty.

He was starting to feel a bit unease now. Callis wasn't the type to make a fuss, but that just made this worse. The kid was quiet, but he wasn't supposed to just vanish.

Then he saw it.

A torn scroll on the floor, half-covered by one of the blankets.

Fredo's stomach dropped.

He strode over, picking up the scroll with stiff fingers. The edges were ragged, glowing faintly with residual magic. A teleportation scroll.

'Fuck.'

He could already picture his leige's reaction.

'Damn it.'

Running a hand down his face, he took a slow breath. "Okay, okay. No need to panic."

Yeah. No need at all. He just had to figure out where the hell Callis had gone before White Star found out and ripped him apart.

Yeah, he can do this.

Chapter Text

The child didn't make a sound.

Eruhaben had expected something—maybe a cry, a whimper, even a tiny fist clumsily grabbing at his robe in confusion. But there was nothing. 

The boy didn't move, didn''t protest as he was carried through the unfamiliar lair. He simply nestled closer, hugging his plushie tightly, his small body naturally adjusting to the warmth of the ancient dragon's chest.

It was... unusual.

Eruhaben narrowed his eyes slightly, glancing down at the tiny bundle in his arms. Most human children he had come across in his long life were loud, demanding things. Fragile, messy creatures that required endless attention. But this one? Silent.

As if he was completely unbothered by being carried off by a stranger, a dragon, he had never met before.

'Unlucky child.' 

Eruhaben shifted the boy's red head slightly to make carrying him more comfortable. The child barely reacted, only curling into the movement as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Eruhaben sighed. He had never taken care of a human child before, but he knew the basics—keep them warm, feed them, make sure they didn't break themselves doing something stupid. Simple enough.

His lair was, as always, shiny and perfect like how he prefers it to be. Normally, the sight of all this wealth, the sheer spectacle of so much gold and treasure would have been enough to make a child's eyes widen in awe.

But this one?

Nothing.

'Should I have added more gold to this?'

Eruhaben watched closely, waiting for a reaction. A gasp, a curious look, maybe even an attempt to grab a coin. Something.

The child remained still, head resting against his chest, tiny fingers curled around the plushie. His eyes wandered, taking in the golden lair with a casual sort of... disinterest?

It was... odd.

Was his place not shiny enough to impress the boy? 

Eruhaben exhaled slowly, already realizing that this child—whoever he was—wasn't exactly normal. But there was no time to dwell on that now.

He needed supplies.

The boy was dressed well, but human children needed clean clothes, food, and a place to rest. It wasn't like Eruhaben kept a stockpile of baby supplies among his treasure hoard. And though he wasn't sure how long he'd be keeping the child, he supposed it wouldn't hurt to make sure he was comfortable in the meantime.

Tch. This wasn't how he planned to spend his night.

With a quiet sigh, he moved deeper into the lair. Near the back, past the glittering treasures and artifacts, was a chamber. A bedroom, if it could even be called that. It was simple—just a bed tucked away for the rare occasions he had guests. It would have to do.

Carefully, he set the child down.

The plush mattress barely dipped under his weight. Callis blinked, his eyes following Eruhaben's every movement as he was tucked in, layers of soft blankets wrapped snugly around him. 

It was warm. Comfortable. yet he remained silent, content to watch if anything.

Eruhaben arched a brow.

"Are you comfortable? Does anything hurt?"

The child blinked slowly.

"..Right. You're really quiet, aren't you?"

Still nothing.

Eruhaben sighed and reached out, brushing a stray lock of red hair from the child's face.

"Stay here," he said. "I'll be back soon."

The boy just stared at him.

Eruhaben narrowed his eyes, then tapped the blankets lightly. "No moving around. Got it?"

Tiny fingers curled into the fabric.

Good enough.

'Atleast he's well behaved.' Eruhaben thought as he stood, rolling his shoulders. The child was warm, properly covered—he wouldn't catch cold. This won't take long, anyway. Just a quick trip for supplies.

Still, as he turned to leave, he hesitated. Just for a moment.

The boy wasn't afraid. Not of him. Not of this unfamiliar place.

'Tch. What a strange kid.'

The moment the shiny, ridiculously handsome elf left, Callis finally relaxed.

'How did he even end up in this situation?'

He shifted slightly, adjusting the soft blankets wrapping around him like a cozy little cocoon. 

Callis stretched out his small limbs, before rolling onto his side and curling up like a kitten. He was cold okay? and the bed was ridiculously comfortable—not that he was complaining. The pillow was like a fluffy cloud, and the entire place looked like something straight out of a fantasy novel.

Gold. Everywhere.

Piles of it, scattered in an almost artistic way, obviously he had done it. Not to mention the fact that the the walls and ceiling were all covered in it. 

Yeah. This guy is definitely obsessed with gold.

Callis lazily looked around, still hugging his plushie. What kind of person just casually slept surrounded by mountains of treasure? A dragon, probably. Or an elf with an absurd amount of wealth and an obsession. 

He'd bet on the former, though. 

Elves weren't materialistic. At least, not from what he knows from the novel.

And besides, this man moved with too much grace,and his aura was way too overwhelming for a simple elf.

'Great, he somehow got involved with a dragon.'

It's all Fredo's fault.

Not that it really mattered right now. Callis didn't panic, far from it. His father was a dragon catcher, his uncle was a vampire, his cousin was a dragon half blood.

Hell, he even has his own dragon egg to care for.

And there's also Sayeru but that's besides the point. Callis is so used to the pressure that everyone had around them that seeing a dragon now didn't bother him at all. 

Plus, he seemed nice and his muscles were well taken care of.

So in conclusion, Callis wasn't worried at all.

Yawning, Callis looked down at his red turtle plushie and pried its mouth open. With a small flick, he reached inside and pulled out a bottle of milk.

Yeah, you heard that right.

What? Did you really think he carried a plushie around just because? Please.

Callis wasn't stupid. Fredo had set up a magical spatial bag with endless storage inside this thing. Callis had to admit, it was pretty convenient. Especially now, when he was all warm and snug and had zero intention of moving.

Taking a slow sip of milk, he let his small fingers play idly with the plushie's tiny arms.

Alright, so he was in a dragon's lair, in a ridiculously expensive bed, drinking milk that came out of a plushie.

...Yeah, sounds about right.

This was probably the weirdest nap setup he'd ever had.

But whatever. He was comfortable. That was all that mattered.

With a sigh, Callis settled in, his reddish brown eyes lazily scanning the golden glow of the room before drifting to sleep.

Might as well nap while he could.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Eruhaben returned, gracefully stepping into his lair, his arms full of supplies.

He set the items down with a sigh. 'Honestly, what was he doing?' A mighty, ancient dragon, now turned caretaker to a tiny child. A human child, no less. 

The absurdity of it wasn't lost on him, but the more he looked at the boy, the less it seemed to bother him. There was something almost amusing about it.

The golden eyes were immediately drawn to the small figure still nestled on the bed. Despite how impossible it seemed for someone so young to be so... quite. The little one's chest rose and fell in the slow, steady rhythm of deep sleep. His fingers were wrapped tightly around the plushie that never left his side.

Eruhaben couldn't help but smile.

The dragon leaned closer, reached out with a gentle hand, adjusting the blankets. The child was still so small, so fragile. Eruhaben, in all his years, couldn't shake the feeling of he had when looking at him.

He felt... protective of him.

But as his hand hovered over the boy's forehead, something caught his attention. The child's breathing wasn't as steady as before. It was shallow, uneven.

Frowning, Eruhaben lowered his hand and gently pressed his palm against the boy's forehead.

He hissed under his breath, startled by the heat radiating from the young child's skin. Too much heat. The child was burning with fever.

His brows knitted together, irritation obvious through his expression—but not at the boy. No, it was aimed entirely at himself. 

"Tch. I should've been more careful..."

He had carried him through the cold air, let him sleep in a place unfamiliar to his body, without even thinking that a small human like him might not adjust so easily.

Foolish oversight.

With a quiet sigh, Eruhaben moved instinctively, his hands acting before his thoughts could catch up. He adjusted the blankets around the child, making sure they weren't too heavy.

Then, with a flick of his fingers, he used his magic to adjust the temperature of the lair.

Still, that wasn't enough.

He needed to cool the fever.

Eruhaben gazed at the supplies he had brought, and swiftly sorting through them until he found a cloth. A clean, soft one, meant for—well, he hadn't originally planned on using it like this, but whatever.

Dipping it into a small bowl of cool water, he wrung it out, then carefully pressed it to the boy's forehead.

Callis barely reacted.

The ancient dragon stared at him for a long moment. After a frown appeared on his lil face, Eruhaben's expression softened. 

"Unlucky kid." The dragon exhaled, brushing his hair back with a flick of his hand. "Guess you'll be staying with me for a while."

He didn't know what to feel about this, he had no words for it, only a strange protectiveness.

"Rest now," he said softly. "I'll deal with this first."

For now, the fever should be taken care of.

Everything else? That could wait.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Fredo could feel his sanity slipping through his fingers.

"Gods, White Star is so going to kill me," he whispered, voice barely above a breathless wheeze.

His hands shaking slightly as he clutched the crumpled teleportation scroll. His mind raced, thoughts spiraling out of control. How did this even happen? How did he lose a child?

Callis—Callis—was supposed to be safe. 

But now, he's somewhere out there alone, possibly cold or even worse, kidnapped! 

'Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.'

Fredo stared down at the scroll, the ink fading on the paper from his frantic handling. His heart pounded in his chest as he quickly recounted the failed attempts. He had already gone through four different spells, three emergency location trackers, and one very expensive, now useless, scroll just to locate him.

Each time, the results were either inconclusive or somewhere random—at one point, the magic straight-up led him to a bakery. A godsdamned bakery.

And he actually went there!

But now—now—the spell had finally worked.

Mountain Yellia.

His lil highness was in another continent.

The mountain range considered one of the most dangerous on the Western Continent. Of all the places, he had to be there.

'Fuck.'

He dragged a hand down his face.

White Star was supposed to be away on a mission for the next few days. He shouldn't be back for a while, which should mean he has time to fix this before anyone noticed. 

But if White Star did return sooner—

Oh.

Fredo was so, so dead.

He cursed again, eyes flicking back to the scroll.

"White Star is going to have my head for this," Fredo felt like he's dying already. He took in a shaky breath, his worry mounting with each passing second. "Callis has to be found. As soon as possible. Gods, I can't be this irresponsible. I can't—"

The panic was starting to set in now. The thought of the young prince out there, alone, sick, or injured, was enough to push him over the edge.

He didn't have much time.

Chapter Text

"You're burning up."

Kim Rok Soo barely reacted.

A warm hand pressed against his forehead before shifting to the side of his neck. The touch stayed for a moment, then pulled away with a familiar sigh.

"You're really hopeless, you know that?"

Kim Rok Soo blinked slowly. His head was heavy, his thoughts sluggish. He barely had the energy to lift his gaze, but he didn't need to. He already knew who it was.

Lee Soo Hyuk.

His brows furrowed, his eyes softened by concern as they lingered on his flushed face. His voice filled with care that Kim Rok Soo knew too well.

"You really need to take better care of yourself."

Kim Rok Soo let out a small groan, his body far too tired to move. "I'm fine."

He had said it so many times by now that it came without thought.

But Lee Soo Hyuk didn't buy it. His eyes were on Kim Rok Soo.

"You're not fine. You're stubborn."

Kim Rok Soo muttered, "It's just a fever" But his voice was weak, too tired to argue properly.

"Our shy dongsaeng never listens," Choi Jung Soo, leaning against the doorframe, grinned. "we should just force him to rest."

"You both are annoying."

Choi Jung Soo just laughed."Yeah, yeah, now let's take you to bed."

Lee Soo Hyuk's hand rested on Kim Rok Soo's shoulder as he dragged him to the comfy blankets, followed by a chuckling Choi Jung Soo.

Kim Rok Soo sighed, leaned into their support, and let himself get dragged, he was too tired to argue.

"Honestly, how do you always manage to make us worry like this?"

At this point, he just let the voices fade into the background, his thoughts sluggish, maybe he was more tired than he thought? everything around him felt more like a dream.

His eyes fluttered shut. 'It's been so long...'

... Huh?

A small frown tugged at his brows.

His mind began to clear, just a little, enough to realize what he just thought, and knew that something wasn't right.

And then, just like that, it hit him.

Everything stopped.

Silence.

Kim Rok Soo opened his eyes.

A golden ceiling.

He stared at it for a moment, blankly, his thoughts catching up too slowly.

'Ah. Right.'

A dream.

Just a dream.

He let out a slow breath, turning his head slightly. Of course it was...

And they were gone.

Kim Rok Soo, now Callis, stirred. His eyelids felt heavy, but he could tell he wasn't alone.

His favourite plushie was still in his arms, so that was good.

The dragon was here too.

'No use in thinking about the past, they are not coming back anyway.'

Callis blinked sluggishly, his vision adjusting to the lighting. He shifted slightly, and the movement caught the man's attention.

"You're awake."

The deep, smooth voice pulled Callis fully from the haze of sleep. His reddish-brown eyes blinked sluggishly, still groggy. Everything felt warm. The fever wasn't gone yet.

He barely had time to process anything before a cool hand pressed gently against his forehead.

The dragon was watching him closely.

Callis blinked drowsily. 'What is he doing?'

Even in his feverish state, Callis could tell that Eruhaben looked... off.

Not in a messy way-no, of course not. The dragon still sat with that effortless grace, his golden hair still shining, his robes still shiny and dramatic as ever.

His sleeves were rolled up, his robe had the slightest wrinkle, like he'd been sitting in the same spot for too long. And his hair-still stupidly perfect-was just a little mussed, like he'd been running a hand through it all night.

Eruhaben, meanwhile, clicked his tongue. "Tch. You're still too warm." He dipped the cloth into the bowl of cool water again, wrung it out with practiced ease, and pressed it gently to Callis' forehead.

Feeling relaxed, Callis let out a small, barely audible sigh, his eyelids drooping again.

"Better?"

He nodded. Just a tiny bit.

Eruhaben smiled softly. "Good to see you awake, unlucky kid."

Callis frowned weakly. 'Why is he like this?' He really didn't have the energy to protest when the handsome man started messing with his hair.

'Stupid dragon.'

A pause. Then-hesitation, brief if anything-Callis reached out.

Tiny fingers, warm from fever, clumsily grasped the edge of Eruhaben's robe.

The dragon stilled.

Not in shock, but in something close to amusement. Surprise. Fondness? maybe, Callis didn't even want to know if this dragon fell for his charms.

'Should be enough, he did stay up all night to care for me, after all.'

Callis didn't look at him, his small face still half-buried in the blankets. He didn't say anything, either. Just held on.

Eruhaben huffed a quiet laugh.

"Clingy, aren't you?"

Callis frowned slightly. But well...his grip didn't loosen.

The dragon shook his head in mock exasperation. "Fine, fine. I get it."

And instead of pulling away, he adjusted the blanket again-this time tucking it more securely around the lil human.

Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, his free hand found its way to Callis' hair, fingers lightly ruffling the messy red strands.

Callis mumbled something incoherent and burrowed deeper into the warmth.

Eruhaben leaned back slightly, watching as the boy's breathing evened out again. His fever was still there, but at least he was resting properly.

"Looks like I really am stuck with you."

Golden eyes softened as he settled back into his seat.

"...Rest, brat. I'll be here."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Time passed and Callis drifted in and out of sleep. He barely registered anything when his head shifted, his lil body naturally seeking out the closest source of warmth.

His cheek was pressed against something firm, not to mention the steady beat, the rise and fall was oddly familiar.

It took a moment for his drowsy mind to catch up.

'...Huh?'

Sleepy reddish-brown eyes peeked open. His vision, still blurry, took in the shimmering gold of Eruhaben's robes, the soft fabric crinkling slightly under his tiny grip.

Callis blinked.

Oh.

Chest.

He was resting on the dragon's chest.

...Well, alright.

He'll question his life choices later. It's not like he can do anything to this dragon anyway.

Yet.

He's a baby, and most importantly, a slacker.

Who was he to question a dragon? The crazy man can end him with a single thought!

Callis chose peace.

He shifted slightly, snuggling closer without much thought after that. The steady heartbeat beneath his ear felt nice.

The dragon's muscles weren't like his father's. But then again, no one is as perfect and safe as him.

Callis let out a soft sigh, fingers curling slightly against the silky fabric beneath him. This guy was built nice-A good pillow material.

Meanwhile, Eruhaben, the unfortunate pillow in question, was having a very different morning.

He had taken the child to his personal chambers-because if he was going to be responsible for a fragile lil human, he might as well do it in maximum comfort.

He glanced down at the tiny human currently resting in his arms.

The tiny baby had been a mess. Restless, burning up with a fever so high it definitely wasn't normal for a human-let alone a child.

Even now, his small face was still slightly flushed, though at least his breathing had evened out.

Golden eyes narrowed slightly. Who the hell leaves a tiny, fragile baby alone in the snow?

He hadn't asked before. Hadn't really thought too much about it while dealing with the immediate crisis of keeping the kid alive.

Eruhaben's eye twitched as he recalled a particular passage from that ridiculous parenting guide he had read earlier.

"Human infants can perish from a variety of causes, including but not limited to improper feeding, poor temperature regulation, incorrect sleep posture, sudden and inexplicable failure to continue breathing-"

The golden dragon almost had a heart attack cause of it.

But now, with Callis nestled comfortably against him, looking far too at ease for someone who had nearly frozen to death-Eruhaben found himself wondering.

Where were his guardians? Did he even have one?

His lips pressed into a thin line. Humans are carefree, but they weren't that careless. Even the most irresponsible ones usually kept an eye on their offspring, especially one as young as this.

And yet, no one had come for him.

Eruhaben exhaled through his nose, his fingers idly brushing over the soft red strands of hair.

...If no one came seeking this child, then fine.

He'll take him.

The little brat was unlucky, sure. But he was also... well...

Beautiful.

And, considering the way his tiny hands had latched onto him, warm and trusting despite barely knowing him...

Eruhaben stared down at the sleeping infant in his arms and remembered what the book had mentioned.

"If you die just because you forgot to breathe, I'm never letting you live this down."

The tiny thing just sighed in his sleep, nuzzling closer like the clueless, trusting lil baby he was.

Eruhaben pinched the bridge of his nose.

Just what had he gotten himself into?

'Since he's staying, I won't let my treasure go unappreciated. I'll set something far grander that even this tiny human will be left speechless.'

The ancient dragon has so much work to do.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Fredo moved through the snow, his steps silent but his mind loud.

No footprints. No traces. No signs. It was as if the mountain itself had swallowed him whole, erasing any evidence that he had ever been there.

He was losing it.

Fredo clicked his tongue.

A whole day. It had been a whole damn day.

A baby -tiny, fragile and helpless-was missing in the middle of a freezing, snow-covered mountain range filled with dangerous, gods knows what, and horrors that he really would rather not think about right now.

...He was so dead.

Not literally. Yet. But once White Star found out? Yeah. Dead.

Not that it mattered right now.

What mattered was Callis.

His lil highness must be crying for him! Well... maybe not exactly, but still! Surely, he had to be thinking about his best uncle, right?!

Fredo was worried.

He started to feel the exhaustion, but he ignored it. He had to continue searching even if he searched everywhere.

Every cave, every crevice, every possible hiding spot a baby could fit into-he had even started looking in places Callis couldn't fit, just in case.

Nothing.

He could go days without rest if needed. He could endure the cold. He could endure anything.

But the thought of his lil prince out here, suffering alone? That was unbearable.

'It's all my fault.'

He should've been more careful.

His lips pressed into a thin line. He didn't want to disturb the prince's sleep. He thought it would be fine. Just a short time alone together-like he always does when his liege was out-and now... now Callis is missing.

Fredo let out a long, slow breath.

'I am never leaving him alone again.'

Just as he was about to start searching for the tenth time all over the mountain again, a thought-one so ridiculous it almost made him stop in his tracks-crossed his mind.

A dragon lived here.

An ancient one.

One that was oddly social, and very dangerous.

Fredo blinked.

'...No. That's stupid.'

Why would a dragon take a baby? What kind of reason-

...

..

.

Wait.

Because if it was true, if Callis had somehow ended up in the care of a dragon-

Then he was safe.

Dragons never hurt anyone, let alone babies.

He had probably felt bad for his lil highness and taken him in his lair.

That had to be it.

Fredo felt a flicker of hope lighting in his chest.

Because if Callis was with him, that meant he wasn't alone, wasn't freezing in the snow, wasn't-

Fredo clenched his jaw.

Good.

That was good. That meant he still had a chance, still had time. But he couldn't afford to waste any more of it. If retrieving his highness meant sneaking into a dragon's lair and possibly getting into a fight with it, then so be it.

He could handle that.

Not the best idea, but not impossible either.

The dragon might also just humour him and actually give him his child back.

Fredo would take any and every chance he gets.

He would do it. He had to do it.

There was no other possibility.

Because if Callis wasn't with the dragon—if he had been wrong—then there was no telling what he would do. 

He needed him to be there.

Otherwise, Fredo would simply lose his mind.

He could only hope.

Chapter Text

Callis wasn't sure how his life had come to this.

Five months old, stuck in a dragon's lair, being spoon-fed like some pampered little prince.

Well. He is a prince. Technically. But that wasn't the point.

The point was that this was not on his slacker bingo card.

He had learned the dragon's name—Eruhaben. A fancy name for a rich, shiny elf like person with way too much free time. Callis had no real complaints about the living conditions. The food was great, the lair was warm, and Eruhaben took care of him well enough.

But this wasn't home.

No amount of luxury could change the fact that he missed his father.

Was he in that weird baby attachment phase? Nah.

It wasn't like he was attached or anything. No way. Callis just preferred to be with White Star. That was all.

Besides, staying with a dragon forever? Yeah, no. Dragons meant trouble. They were strong, crazy crazy, and Callis had no intention of becoming part of that.

Eruhaben, blissfully unaware of Callis' thoughts, continued feeding him with the patience none.

It wasn't like the kid was difficult, he just didn't want to choke him! Which will probably, maybe, most definitely lead to his death.

Yes, the books traumatized the ancient dragon.

"You're eating well," the dragon smiled, scooping another spoonful of whatever rich, silly baby food he had conjured up this time.

Callis, despite his mental age, accepted the next spoonful. Might as well eat while he plotted.

"One more bite."

The dragon coaxed, his tone far too gentle than normal. It made Callis shiver.

'Why is he like this?'

He felt a sense of déjà vu.

Still, he opened his mouth, accepting the next spoonful.

Callis' view on dragons is starting to change and all because this Goldie was ridiculously doting.

Eruhaben wiped a stray bit of food from the corner of his mouth, and messed with his head.

"Almost there, you are doing so well."

He hummed softly, before tapping the spoon against Callis' lips.

"You like this, don't you?"

…Okay, yeah. It was tasty so of course he did. But that wasn't the point!

Callis begrudgingly opened his mouth again, watching as Eruhaben's lips twitched ever so slightly, the barest hint of amusement in his golden eyes.

Like he was enjoying this.

This bastard.

Callis ate slowly, his thoughts mildly horrified as a realization dawned on him.

No wonder this felt off.

He's turning into Fredo!!

Oh no.

Then, suddenly, Eruhaben stopped.

The pause was brief, but Callis noticed.

The golden dragon turned his gaze toward the entrance of the lair, his expression blank.

A moment later, a warm hand rested on Callis' head.

"We have visitors," Eruhaben said lightly.

'Visitors?'

Callis blinked up at him, curiosity evident in his eyes. Visitors could mean many things. A random elf, another dragon—hopefully not—or, if fate was kind for once…

Maybe it was Fredo.

'Did his uncle find him?'

Callis had no real reason to believe it, but still, he found himself watching as Eruhaben stood and moved toward the entrance.

'If it's Fredo, I'll only scam him of ten gold statues since he only took a day to retrieve him.'

Our redhead felt very generous and made a totally fair decision.

Eruhaben stepped outside, golden eyes scanning the snow-covered mountain range.

And there, standing at the edge of his territory, was a vampire trying—very badly—to sneak into his lair.

He didn't even conceal himself.

Eruhaben stared.

The man had long white hair, sharp purple eyes, and a coat that looked better suited anywhere than trudging through the snow.

And yet, here he was, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot, hesitating every few seconds like he was having a mental debate with himself.

At one point, he actually tried to press himself against a rock.

A vampire. Trying to sneak in a lair of a dragon. By hiding behind a rock.

Eruhaben almost laughed.

Instead, he waited and watched the show.

The man took a slow, careful step forward. Paused. Looked around. Took another step. Paused again.

Alright, that was enough.

"Are you planning to come inside, or are you just going to keep flirting with that rock?"

The vampire froze.

Slowly, he turned, purple eyes locking onto Eruhaben.

A long silence stretched between them.

Then—

"…I wasn't sneaking."

Eruhaben lifted a brow. "No?"

"Of course not," the vampire said smoothly, adjusting his coat like that somehow helped his case. "I was assessing the safest way in."

Eruhaben tilted his head. "The entrance?"

"I had to be sure."

"You were staring at it for five minutes."

The vampire crossed his arms. "And?"

"And you hid behind a rock."

A muscle in the vampire's jaw twitched.

Eruhaben smirked. "What was the plan there?"

The vampire sighed like he was the one dealing with nonsense.

Eventually, he straightened his coat and fixed Eruhaben with a serious stare.

"Give me back my baby."

A pause.

Eruhaben blinked.

His what?

Golden eyes swept over the vampire—white hair, pale skin, purple eyes.

Then, he thought of the very obedient and silent child inside—red hair, reddish-brown eyes, a round face that scrunched up whenever he was displeased and obviously more beautiful and clearly human.

Eruhaben gave the vampire another slow look, as if expecting him to realize his own mistake.

"...Your baby?"

"Yes."

Eruhaben squinted. "The infant I found alone in the snow?"

The vampire barely hesitated before responding, completely serious—

"He teleported."

Silence.

Eruhaben stared.

The vampire stared back.

Neither blinked.

Eruhaben inhaled deeply.

He was way too old for this.

"Right," he said, rubbing his temple. "Of course, he teleported."

"Yes."

Eruhaben sighed.

He could argue. He should argue. But the vampire looked like he had been through hell and back, and honestly, Eruhaben was just too tired to do that.

"Come inside," he muttered, turning toward the entrance.

Fredo blinked.

Wait. Just like that?

No interrogation? No argument? No blood shedding?

…Did his plan to act stupid really worked? Or was the dragon actually humoring him?

'Maybe I should've just knocked.'

Callis was getting real tired of this.

He was sitting on the dragon's lap, watching his uncle sip tea like this was some casual afternoon chat between old friends instead of a kidnapping gone wrong.

Meanwhile, Fredo studied the scene before him with a look of pure amusement.

"Thank you for the hospitality, but I must say," the vampire finally said, swirling his tea. "I didn't expect this when I came to retrieve him."

Eruhaben barely spared him a glance, far too occupied with braiding a few strands of Callis' short baby hair between his fingers. "And I didn't expect a vampire to visit my lair like a common thief, yet here we are."

Fredo chuckled. "Fair enough."

Callis sensed something off, seeing how attached the dragon was, he had the strangest feeling that leaving wasn't going to be easy.

Fredo seemed to realize this too, and started to get concerned.

"Callis, The baby you're currently holding," Fredo finally continued, "is the crown prince of Endable Kingdom."

Eruhaben paused.

His golden eyes flickered down to Callis, taking in his soft, beautiful appearance.

"This one?"

Callis blinked.

'…Rude, but expected of a dragon I guess.'

"I appreciate your care, truly," Fredo began, offering his most diplomatic smile. "But my child must return home."

Eruhaben hummed, still twirling a small lock of Callis' red hair between his fingers.

Eruhaben didn't reply immediately. Instead, he tested the child's name.

"Callis."

The red-haired child blinked up at him, round eyes silently staring.

Eruhaben tilted his head slightly, watching the baby's reaction curiously.

"Hm." Eruhaben tried to say it again, softer this time.

"Callis."

Another stare.

Fredo, watching the exchange, felt his lips twitch. "Are you even listening?"

The dragon ignored him, tapped a finger gently against Callis' chubby cheek, watching as his eyes followed the movement. "Not a bad name," he finally murmured. "It suits him."

Fredo felt his eyebrow twitch as he watched this scene, his lil highness is being kidnapped right in front of his eyes and he couldn't do anything about it.

Not when the ancient dragon was clearly releasing his dragon fear all over the place.

There was a long pause.

Eruhaben finally glanced at him.

"He just got over a fever. You think I'm handing over a sickly baby to be dragged through the cold again?"

Fredo opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

"...What fever?"

'His Highness got sick?'

Eruhaben shot him a mildly unimpressed look, as if he had expected a better reaction. "The fever he had while I was taking care of him, obviously."

"He would've been worse if I hadn't found him yesterday."

Fredo tried very hard not to flinch at the emphasis.

Callis, very much alive and not on the verge of death, happily squished the plushie in his tiny hands.

Still, that didn't stop him from rolling his eyes internally when Fredo suddenly froze and stared at him like he was about to turn to dust.

Ah, he must've learned of his fever.

Honestly, Callis wasn't paying attention to the two adults, he knew that eventually he'll return home.

He rather check on the gold he scammed from the dragon while the man in question wasn't paying attention.

Fredo exhaled slowly. Glad that young Callis was well.

"Look, I appreciate your care. I truly do. You rescued him when you didn't have to do so. But I must take him back now."

Eruhaben arched his brow. "Oh? And why should I return him to someone who couldn't even keep an eye on him in the first place?"

Fredo's eye twitched.

Callis, for his part, just watched the two.

'Don't I have a say in this matter?'

Eruhaben continued. "He's been quite content here. Well-fed. Comfortable." A smirk tugged at his lips. "Not crying for you, either."

Fredo clenched his jaw. "That's hardly the point—"

"And," Eruhaben smoothly cut in, "even if I do allow you to take him back, I hope you don't think you'll be keeping him away from me."

Fredo froze.

Callis blinked up at the dragon.

'What?'

The dragon was actually going to follow them?!

Fredo scowled. "You can't seriously be saying—"

"I'm simply stating facts." Eruhaben's smirk widened slightly as he took down his dragon fear. "If the boy's going back, I will be involved. After all, someone needs to make sure that this situation will never happen again."

"The child is quite unlucky."

Fredo, finally able to breathe, pinched the bridge of his nose.

This was not how today was supposed to go.

Callis on the other hand didn't like this at all!!

What do you mean the dragon was coming with them? Hell, he would rather go back to his first home than let the dragon go with them!

Even though he could help with the black dragon egg he had, it wasn't worth the trouble!!

So he was going to protest. Make it clear that Eruhaben should stay put in his shiny little lair and leave him be.

He slapped the man's arm, gaining his attention. He opened his mouth, ready to complain.

Instead, what came out was—

"Da!"

The silence that came after in the room was deafening.

Fredo choked.

Eruhaben blinked.

And just like that, the damage was done.

Fredo grabbed his chest like he had been physically struck. "Lil highness, you—"

Eruhaben, meanwhile, looked very pleased with the situation.

"Well," the dragon hummed, golden eyes practically twinkling, "was this how you viewed me?"

"No!" Fredo snapped, looking absolutely petrified. "Your Highness, please tell me it was accidental—"

Eruhaben smirked, gently patting Callis' head. "So that's what your voice sounds like," he mused, entirely unbothered by Fredo's meltdown. "Good. I was waiting to hear it."

Callis wanted to disappear.

Fredo, on the other hand, looked like he was about to explode. "His first word—HIS FIRST WORD WAS AIMED AT A DRAGON?! My liege is so going to end me!"

Callis refused to meet his eyes.

Eruhaben chuckled, "Don't worry. I'll be a great father figure for the lil one."

"Over my dead body!!"

Meanwhile, as war began, our Callis realized there was no escaping this mess, just yawned and nuzzled into the dragon's robes. Might as well get comfortable.

Why did he even bother? It's all Fredo's fault.

He's the reason Callis was in this mess to begin with. He shouldn't trouble his lil mind and let the adults handle it.

It's not like the dragon is actually going to leave his lair for him anyway.

Plus, his awkward father must be worried sick back at home, and it was all his uncle's fault.

In conclusion, Callis decided to set all the blame on Fredo.

It was better this way.

Chapter Text

Drip.

Drip.

Still warm. Still fresh.

White Star looked down at the body slumped over the desk. Head cracked open. Spine bent the wrong way. Blood was spilling over the floor, painting over the map they'd been using to mark trade routes.

How pathetic.

And quite silly really.

He stepped over a leg. Was it still twitching? Hmm.

Someone coughed. Oh, one was still alive. Barely.

'This is a waste of time.'

He sighed.

"This is getting ridiculous." he murmured, not really expecting anything.

"You thought stealing from me was clever?" White Star asked, amused if anything.

The man on the floor tried to speak but couldn't. His jaw was shattered.

White Star watched, tilting his head as he studied him. The man was shaking, trying to crawl away. There was nowhere to go.

He didn't get far though before the blade slid through him.

A sharp inhale, then silence.

'Tch.'

He moved, brushing blood off his hands. Didn't help much. The robes were already stained. There was a trail of red behind him wherever he walked.

It was quiet now.

Ten corpses. Maybe eleven? He lost count. They all bled the same anyway.

Disgusting pests.

He walked to the back wall, kicked it once.

Hollow.

He pressed again, and the stone shuddered, then gave way with a soft crack.

A storage room.

He stepped inside.

Neat rows of chests greeted him. It wasn't much, just a few Gold coins. Jewels, magic stones stuffed in cloth.

He stepped inside, looking around.

Then his eyes caught it - a small, smooth gem tucked between trash. Not the largest. Obviously not the rarest. But...

It shimmered.

A pale red stone. Clear, almost glass-like, catching light in soft hues.

It wasn't particularly valuable. Not magically significant. But it was beautiful. Quietly so.

'Callis would like this.'

His expression softened.

White Star plucked it gently between two fingers, held it up to the light, and examined it.

'Should be shiny enough.'

He slipped the gem into his robe's inner pocket.

"—My lord."

Right, he wasn't alone.

White Star didn't turn. "Done?"

"Yes. The traitors were dealt with. No survivors."

"Good." He took one last glance around the room. "Leave the rest. Burn it down."

"As you wish."

The person withdrew.

Alone again. But his business is done.

It had been three days.

Three days since he last saw those eyes. Since his son was held in his arms, smiling so innocently at him.

Three days.

He wasn't fond of being away this long.

It was time.

Time to go back home.

Home.

What a funny thought.

'What is he doing right now, I wonder...'

He'd likely fallen asleep somewhere inconvenient again. The garden maybe?

A pause.

He hadn't forgotten him...right?

That one ridiculous parenting book had warned about 'separation side effects.'

Three days are apparently enough time for a child to emotionally replace a parent with a stuffed animal.

He narrowed his eyes slightly.

'If he cries when he sees me, not recognising me at all, I'll burn Fredo.'

White Star's lips twitched.

It's always Fredo's fault.

He believes so.

Even though there wasn't a chance of that happening since his son was unlike other pests humanz call children.

But...

If that really happens, no one would like the consequence of it all.

It's time to go home.

Naru was a mess.

His hair was disheveled, eyes bloodshot, and he hadn't sat down in over twelve hours. Not that sitting would help-not when his heart was doing thingz every time someone knocked on the damn door.

Three days.

It had been three days.

Three days since Fredo disappeared with Callis.

No letter. No messenger. No trail. Just vanished — like he was never there to begin with.

Naru dragged a trembling hand down his face.

He is so going to murder his father.

Curses repeated in the dragon half blood' mind whenever he remembers him.

He'd checked the nursery five times already today. As if the boy might've magically reappeared. As if Callis, few months old and still mostly useless, had somehow crawled his way back from wherever Fredo dragged him off to.

And White Star?

He'll be back any day now.

Maybe tonight.

Maybe in the next five minutes.

And when he walks through that door and realizes his son is missing—

Naru swallowed hard.

'We're done. All of us. The whole castle's going up in flames and I'll be the first one used to repaint the walls.'

Well, maybe his father...

Y'all get the point.

He paced again, muttering under his breath.

'I should've known,' he thought wildly. 'I should've known Fredo would try something. I should've watched him better. I should've locked the damn door. Tied the old man to a chair.'

But no. He trusted him. Just a short walk in the garden, Fredo said. Just a few minutes.

That was seventy-two hours ago.

And now?

Naru is going to prepare his father's coffin, maybe his own as well.

He had finally stopped pacing.

Sort of.

He forced himself into a chair, hands pressed against his temples as he tried to plan Fredo's silly funeral since worrying only made him feel worse.

'No body,' he thought. 'But that's fine. I can just... burn an empty coffin or something. Write something nice on a silver plaque. "Here lies Fredo: Idiot. Kidnapper...?. Somehow still beloved."'

He sighed.

"Guess I'll have to shed a few tears at the speech too. Father likes drama."

The quiet was almost insulting to him. The air was still, Naru blamed Fredo in every breath he took.

Then — he felt it.

Barely anything at first. Just enough to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand.

Magic.

Someone was teleporting here.

His instincts fired without permission. He shot up from his chair, eyes narrowing, scanning the room.

'Who dared to sneak into the prince's room?!'

His question was soon answered.

His father stood in the middle of the room like he'd never left. As if he wasn't missing for three days!

Disheveled, sure, but alive. In his arms, nestled like the king's most precious treasure, which is obviously true, was Callis—peacefully asleep, holding the plushie Fredo gave him that he never parted with.

Naru almost collapsed from relief.

Then he froze.

Because beside his father stood someone else.

The man was tall, golden blond hair flowed down his back, shining like it had been kissed by sunlight itself. His skin was smooth, flawless, and his eyes-

His eyes were pure gold.

And they were locked on Naru.

The room suddenly felt smaller.

No words were spoken.

But the dragon half blood knew.

He knew what he was looking at.

A dragon.

One that was now standing near him, looking straight at him with curiosity and something more.

And Naru?

He couldn't breathe.

Deruth had expected a calm outing.

You know, just a little break from the usual routine. Something simple. Just him, his son, and the fresh air.

That had been the plan.

Reality?

"Cale! Stop that!"

Deruth's voice was more amused than panicked as his five-month-old son reached for a low-hanging branch, fingers wiggling eagerly like tiny claws.

His lil body wriggled in his father's arms, pushing and pulling as if he had somewhere very important to be.

It was a silly scene really.

Cale cooed, giving a toothless grin that could only be described as mischievous.

"You're not getting that leaf," Deruth said, gently pulling his son away from the tree. "You're still too young to be climbing things, love."

Cale looked at him as if he was crazy.

He only wanted the red leaf cause well..you know...

It's red.

Cale liked the colour red.

It reminded him of his twin, he missed Callis so much in this new life of his. And instead of going all depressed and stuff, he started to collect things that his brother would like, to hand it to him in the future.

Cale was bad at gifting, he never gave anyone a gift much less think about it.

And when he thought of Callis, red came to his mind.

His baby twin must like the colour since he's well ...red.

Cale felt like a genius! Not that he never was of course, and so, he started to collect everything that is red and shiny.

Shiny because it should hold value, can't let his twin think he's broke or something.

Soon, he came to love the colour as well.

So when he saw that leaf, he had to get his hands on it and add it to his silly collection.

But his father was being difficult.

Ron, who had been trailing behind them, stepped forward, amused. "I believe the young master is quite energetic today, my lord."

Deruth, struggling to keep a hold of the squirming baby, gave Ron a knowing look. "Energetic? He's just determined to get into trouble."

Cale, who felt wronged by his old man, chose to punish him.

He's an adult for gods sake! It's not his fault that his body is that of a baby!

So, he decided to give poor Deruth a mini heart attack. How? Well... he somehow managed to get a hand free and grabbed a flower that was growing in the garden bed nearby.

Without hesitation, he shoved it directly into his mouth.

"No, no! Don't eat!" Deruth quickly plucked the flower from Cale's grasp.

This son of his was going to be the end of him.

Cale just blinked at him, giving a sly look before grinning that cheeky grin that always made Deruth's heart melt. He had no idea where Cale's mischievous energy came from, but it was certainly a handful.

"I'll have to tell Beacrox you're trying to eat plants," Deruth teased, brushing a loose strand of his baby's hair from his forehead.

The mention of Beacrox's name had an immediate effect on Cale. His wriggling slowed, and he looked up at his father with wide, innocent eyes, his little hands going still.

'What?! Are you crazy?!'

Cale couldn't believe that his father would betray him like that! But the look on his face made him consider that he might actually do it.

He looked at the red leaf waiting for him to take and then at the flower he almost ate.

...

Maybe he should stop and reconsider his actions, he would rather that then beacrox learning of this.

Cale chose peace.

"No more trouble now?" Deruth said with a knowing smile, and Cale, as if on cue, let out a soft sound, as though agreeing.

For a brief moment, Deruth was convinced that his son understood exactly what he was implying.

But that can't be true.

"Smart boy," Deruth smiled, kissing Cale's forehead.

Cale looked up at Ron, his eyes locked into him, as if he'll too, mention this event to his son. Cale remained perfectly still in his father's arms.

Ron won't betray him right?

Ron chuckled softly, "I'm glad to know that my son is held in such high regards by the young master."

Deruth sighed dramatically, though he couldn't hide his smile. "Beacrox had been a greet help to me recently, I'm just glad that Cale isn't closed off thanks to him."

Soon, they reached their favourite resting area and prepared to take a break.

Deruth sat down, holding Cale in his lap for a moment longer before gently placing him on the ground.

Cale took this rare chance of freedom and yeeted out of there. No time to waste!

He will find all the red in here and collect it for his twin! It's not or never.

Of course, his pace was slow since he's new to crawling but it's something!

"Careful, love." Deruth said with a soft chuckle, watching his son wobble toward a patch of flowers, his curiosity leading the way.

Ron, standing nearby, kept a watchful eye on Cale, but Deruth was certain his son would be fine.

He looked at the empty space beside him.

Callis would've been there. Wrapped in that soft blanket he liked, dozing off without a care in the world.

He did like his naps, well ..that's what Deruth could remember.

"I really wish Callis could be here," he said quietly, the words almost slipping out before he realized it. "He would have loved this place..."

Cale let out a loud squeal and tumbled forward onto his belly. Deruth smiled as he watched a little and leaned back.

"I rarely saw him awake. Maybe if he was here, I would've been carrying him asleep in my arms right now."

His voice faded for a moment.

"He's been gone for almost five months now. But I can't help but keep thinking about him."

How could he not miss his baby? His lil miracle?

If only Jour hadn't done what she did, their lives might've been different.

Better.

A pause.

"I miss him."

Ron looked at him.

Deruth looked at Cale now, who was sitting amongst flowers.

"I hope my baby is alright. I hope he's eating well. Sleeping well, too—though that one's never been a problem for him."

O' how he prayed each night to the gods to keep his child safe.

Ron finally spoke. "We'll find him."

Deruth let out a soft chuckle. "You sure?"

"I'm sure."

Silence followed, it was peaceful. He looked at Cale, who had now rolled onto his back and stared at the sky absent mindedly.

Deruth watched him for a moment, then looked at the spot beside him again.

Callis could've been here.

He sighed.

"I trust you."

Ron said nothing, just stood there in silence and watched over them.

Chapter Text

"How do you exist?"

The words dropped like a boulder in the quiet room.

Naru blinked, but otherwise didn't react. He stood straight, arms loose at his sides, his expression carefully blank. On the inside, however, his thoughts were going crazy crazy.

'Crap. Crap. Crap. Why is he here? Did he notice something? Of course he did!! What do I do? I didn't even say anything yet—'

Meanwhile, Fredo barely spared a glance at the golden-haired ancient dragon and his adopted son. He looked about ready to collapse as he gently cradled the sleeping Callis in his arms.

"I'm putting him to bed before he catches a cold again," Fredo muttered, "Be nice."

Naru wanted to shout 'Don't leave me!' but he stayed quiet. He had a feeling speaking would only make it worse.

Eruhaben stepped forward. His golden eyes studied Naru in silence.

There was confusion, then soon anger.

Then… interest?

And finally—genuine shock.

"You're a dragon," Eruhaben said slowly, stating nothing but facts. "And you've also completed your second growth phase...'

Naru's stomach dropped. He swallowed, still silent.

"You're also... human?" the ancient dragon added, his brows furrowing deeper. "Although the scent on that is weak. But, how?'

His gaze sharpened.

"You're not a chimera. It can't be possible, otherwise you'll be dead. But your—" he paused, head tilting slightly— "your scent is odd. Why do I sense the scent of other dragons inside you?"

'Fuck.'

The bracelet should've hidden it. It always did. Fredo swore by it. But now, under Eruhaben's eyes, Naru felt bare.

Still, his face didn't flinch. He kept his mouth shut, heart still pounding like crazy.

Eruhaben took another step forward.

A tense breath caught in Naru's throat.

'If he makes a move, I'll have to fight him.'

He doesn't want to, really doesn't want to. Especially here, at the palace of all places.

But then—

"You are getting too close to my son," Fredo said, appearing out of nowhere somehow with a flair for dramatics as always.

There was a pause.

"…Son?" Eruhaben turned his head slightly, eyes narrowing as if Fredo had just sprouted bullshit. He blinked once. Twice. "Your what?"

Fredo nodded, absolutely unbothered. "My son."

Eruhaben looked at Fredo.

Then at Naru.

Then back at Fredo again.

His expression screamed 'Again?Are you serious right now?'

Behind Fredo, Naru blinked. His brain had already short-circuited from being stared at by the ancient dragon who looked like he would kill him on the spot—but this?

Is his father crazy?

…Actually, never mind. He wasn't going to question it. If it kept him alive and distracted the dragon then so be it.

Not to mention it kind of felt nice to be protected by his stupid dad. Not that he'll ever say it out loud.

Eruhaben stared for a moment longer, processing the claim. "You expect me to believe that a vampire has a ...dragon as a son?"

Fredo crossed his arms, raised his brow. Clearly offended "Of course, can't you see the resemblance?"

The ancient dragon felt an upcoming headache from a mile away.

There was a beat.

Naru coughed lightly into his fist and avoided eye contact.

Fredo didn't budge. "Shouldn't you be heading back now? Thank you for bringing us home, but your job's done."

There was a long silence.

Then, to Naru's surprise, the dragon laughed. Just a short huff, amused.

"Well," Eruhaben said, tilting his head, "I did say I wouldn't leave the unlucky kid alone. What if you lose him again?"

Fredo immediately frowned. "Hey—"

Naru took that moment of distraction to do what any reasonable person would do when stuck between a smug dragon and a grumpy vampire.

He backed away. Slowly. Carefully. Maybe if he got far enough, they'd forget he existed.

What even was this conversation?

The two kept bickering.

"I'm serious," Eruhaben continued, now completely ignoring Naru's subtle escape. "And I'm interested in meeting the child's actual father after all."

Fredo blinked. "Pardon?"

"You heard me." The dragon looked him dead in the eye. "And no, you can't convince me you're him in the slightest."

The silence between them stretched for a moment.

Naru, halfway to the door, froze. He turned slowly, eyebrows knitting.

Fredo's mouth twitched.

Naru frowned. Wait. Did the dragon just say he wanted to meet their liege?

Was he insane?

Fredo's silence was enough for him to know that he was thinking the same.

If White Star even glimpsed the Golden Dragon inside their territory, no one could tell who would come out of it alive.

"Don't be unreasonable," Fredo sighed, running a hand through his hair. "The king won't be back for a while, meeting him now will be impossible."

Naru applauded. His father actually has some brain cells doing their job properly.

"Oh, I'm sure it'll be fine," Eruhaben replied, waving a hand dismissively. "I'll wait."

Fredo was speechless, and so was Naru.

Just as the vampire opened his mouth to argue again—

"Mmm."

It was faint. A tiny, adorable noise that had all eyes snapping to the crib.

They all watched as a little hand poked out from under the blanket, stretching like a sleepy kitten.

Everyone in the room paused.

Fredo blinked once.

Twice.

Then smiled, completely forgetting that he was about to argue with the golden ancient dragon standing a few feet away.

He walked over, crouching beside the crib and gently took hold of Callis' much smaller hand.

"Were we loud? I'm sorry it's all Goldie's fault right there."

His tone was gentle. He took the plushie Callis loved and set it right next to him.

Callis didn't respond. Of course he didn't. But his little eyebrows frowned, clearly displeased even when he's asleep.

That's when Naru stepped in with a smirk. "He probably missed his bed if anything." he said and reached down to poke the red head's cheek.

The tiny baby let out a long, tired sigh in response.

Fredo chuckled under his breath, still holding the little hand. "He did go on an adventure."

"And who's fault was that?" Naru replied, completely serious, "Just look at him. Father, this time you should count your lucky stars that the king wasn't here yet."

"A moment later, and I would've finished preparing a funeral for you."

Fredo felt offended, but his son had a point.

Callis puffed up his cheeks in his sleep, clearly unhappy with all the poking. But still—he stayed asleep, he was too lazy to open his eyes anyway.

All the while, Eruhaben watched.

He hadn't said a word. His arms were crossed, staring at the scene in front of him.

He wasn't looking at the baby.

He was watching Naru.

The teenager's black hair shifted as he moved and Eruhaben simply stared at him.

In all his years, he had never seen anything like him.

His jaw tightened slightly.

That scent.

That mana.

Everything pointed at the fact that the teen was clearly a dragon, Eruhaben would never mistake that. The mana flowing through him didn't lie.

However, he seemed human, and it was driving the old dragon crazy.

Because every part of Eruhaben screamed that he wasn't.

This wasn't natural.

Someone had done this.

This young teen was clearly an experiment gone wrong. If their original plan was to fuse a dragon with a human and create a chimera of sorts. Obviously, it failed.

And the child was only able to survive because he was a dragon in the first place, a human would've died.

And now, standing here, looking at the boy carefully teasing the sleeping baby… Eruhaben wasn't sure what to feel.

His anger simmered low in his chest, not out of hatred for the kid—never him. But out of the quiet fear that something so horrendous had happened to one of his own.

Because now he sensed it.

A familiar scent he hadn't felt in two, maybe three hundred years.

Olienne.

A thought came to mind. It was so absurd, but... it was the only thing that made any actual sense.

Eruhaben didn't even want to believe it, but the more he looked, the more he watched, he couldn't get it out of his head.

Because if it was true, it meant someone stole his friend's child, experimented on him, and even though he somehow escaped? Saved?and now is living with a vampire who claims to be his father.

It meant the child doesn't know of his heritage, and it also meant something had happened to his old friend.

No dragon will ever leave their hatchlings alone.

'Acting now without proof won't do any good, I'll pay Olienne a visit and if something did happen to him.'

He clenched his fist at his side.

'If this child turned out to be his son.'

Eruhaben will do everything in his power to raise him and avenge his friend.

...If something actually did happen to him of course.

He didn't want to do anything with solid proof after all.

These are all just theories.

One he hated to even think about.

'How did he even get himself into this mess?'

"Are you finished glaring at my son?" Fredo's voice broke his thoughts.

The golden dragon sighed.

He didn't reply right away. Mostly because he wasn't sure what kind of response this situation even deserved.

Naru, meanwhile, acted like neither of them existed. He leaned over and poked Callis' cheek again.

Callis responded with a sleepy slap that didn't even reach his attacker.

Eruhaben pressed a hand to his temple. This was going to be a long day.

"Well," he said, straightening his back. "I'll be taking my leave."

Fredo blinked, surprised. "That's it?"

Even Naru was surprised. How did he change his mind so fast?

"I have things to do."

"Finally." Fredo rolled his eyes, clearly relieved. "Don't trip on your way out, you won't be missed."

Eruhaben shook his head with a sigh. He turned, was about to teleport but paused. "I'll be back."

He didn't look back, but he clearly heard few curses coming from the vampire.

'Time to p ay a visit.'

He was clearly way too old for this.

The second Eruhaben left, Naru spun around.

"The hell was that?"

Fredo, unfazed, adjusted his clothes. He expects his son to lecture him so he didn't say a word.

"You disappear for three days, with His Highness, without leaving a single note or anything! And come back with a dragon?!"

Fredo raised an eyebrow. "I thought the two of you got along well, though Goldie was staring a bit too much for my liking."

Naru blinked. "Got along? Father, you need yours eyes checked."

Fredo smiled and took a seat "You survived, didn't you? All is well."

The teen threw his hands up. "You are an idiot."

"I was hoping you'd be less dramatic," Fredo said, settling back in his chair. "But fine. Maybe it was reckless. But hey, I came back and brought lil highness with me safe and sound."

Naru's eye twitched. "Not the time old man. Where did you go anyway?"

Fredo just shrugged, "Kid teleported."

Naru stared.

Fredo nodded, and that was it—Naru absolutely lost it.

The vampire watched as his lovely son laughed, it was rare to see him do it so freely.

Fredo liked it so he didn't tease him anymore and was glad that Naru got over the dragon's sudden visit.

He knew it wasn't a good thing for the two to meet especially with his son's situation in mind, thankfully if the ancient dragon noticed something.

He didn't voice it.

Just when the two were enjoying a rare moment of peace, a voice suddenly snapped them out of it.

"What's going on here?"

It was White Star.

He had returned.

Chapter Text

"What's going on here."

The voice came from the doorway.

Fredo slowly turned his head. Naru stopped moving entirely, mid laugh, his body still half-sprawled on the floor.

Standing there, was White Star.

His robes were still dusted with ash and blood from the mission he'd just returned from. He hadn't even removed his gloves.

Fredo acted fast and gave his most pleasant fake smile.

"Ah. You're back, Your Excellency." He greeted, silently praying he didn't notice anything. "How was the mission? Smooth sailing, I hope?"

White Star said nothing.

He just stared. Once. Twice. Slowly. Fredo was perfectly still under his gaze.

Naru, bless his poor lil dragon half blood soul, was already halfway behind the curtains, head bowed as he greeted silently, mourning Fredo's soon to be death as he mentally planned out the funeral.

'I hope White Star leaves something to be put in the coffin at least.'

Yeah, Naru here was doing his best to be a good son.

White Star didn't even glance at Fredo after his initial stare. His gaze was now fully fixed on Callis, still sound asleep on the bed.

He stepped closer, quietly, and knelt beside the bed. Not close enough to wake the child, but close enough to see his face clearly.

So small.

O' how he missed him.

His son's red hair was a fluffy mess, cheeks rosy from sleep. One of his tiny hands clung to a stuffed plushie almost half his size, while the other was curled under his chin.

White star stared, his eyes softened. He reached out carefully to touch his cheek— gently of course to not wake him up.

But then, his hand stopped. A frown settled on his face.

A second passed.

"…Why is there a dragon's scent on my son?"

The words were quiet, but the air in the room felt like it dropped several degrees.

Naru looked away.

'You shall be missed, father.'

Fredo smiled again. It twitched at the corner. "Ah. Well... You see. It's a bit of a funny story—"

Naru, who was sure that whatever his father will say would only make it worse, chose to speak the truth on his behalf so his funeral plans won't go in vain.

"Fredo lost him."

Fredo looked betrayed.

White Star stared for a long moment.

Fredo shifted under the watchful eyes, his smile faltering, then returning in a nervous twitch.

"I—so—uh, there may have been a brief moment, barely even counts really, where he uh... might've teleported somewhere...that just happened to be a dragon's lair. I wasn't paying attention—"

The room was so quiet, Fredo could practically hear his own heartbeat.

White Star didn't even blink.

Naru just took a look at his idiot father that couldn't save his life even with that silver tongue of his.

'Maybe I should invite the others to attend the funeral, I'm sure Sayeru would love it even if there is no body.'

Naru was chill.

"You lost," White Star repeated, voice calm. "My son."

Fredo held up his hands, flailing slightly. He really didn't like where this was going. "I know I should've paid more attention, but he teleported! I didn't even know kids could use scrolls like that!"

He breathed, looking at his liege who was so calm it was obvious he's on the verge of mass murder.

Fredo cleared his throat.

"Lil highness is fine, you can check for yourself." He paused, making sure that White star was listening. "If anything, he had a fun adventure and even befriended a dragon! Your son has so much potential, my liege. That dragon didn't stand a chance."

Yes. Fredo was bullshitting his way through this.

But honestly, what else could he do? Nothing. Not when his head could leave his body at any moment.

'Fuck, this is all that stupid dragon's fault! If he wasn't holding lil highness like his life depended on it, white Star wouldn't have sensed him.'

Of course, Fredo was wrong. White Star would've sensed the dragon's presence either way because he was crazy like that.

It was all Fredo's fault anyway. If he hadn't kidnapped Callis that night, our protagonist wouldn't have been near the scrolls in the first place and none of that would've happened.

Still, who are we to judge? We are in for le fun! 

White Star turned his head, deliberately checking if Callis was actually fine as Fredo claimed.

Callis—still asleep on the bed, cheeks flushed, hugging his turtle like it held the world, looked completely fine, better even.

White star had to double take to make sure.

"I should erase you." He said, his tone flat and emotionless.

Fredo said nothing, he knew his liege would do just that. But he also knows that with Callis in the room, he might have a chance to survive.

....Maybe end up with a broken arm like last time and honestly, Fredo would rather that than the alternative.

"Fredo."

He knew better than to mess around. The vampire bowed and waited for his execution.

Naru was watching, feeling a tad regretful but he knew his father will be fine.

He'll revive him somehow if he actually gets himself killed.

Maybe find a necromancer?

White Star didn't move. His eyes never leaving his baby as he chose to fix his son's hair instead as he spoke.

"I should have your head right now. However, you're only alive," he said, "because he'd be sad if you disappeared."

'Huh?'

Was he for real? It can't be.

Fredo had a tiny lil thought that his liege finally hit his head somewhere and got replaced by someone else.

Even if that doesn't actually happen.

"You'll receive your punishment in my office."

'What?'

Fredo groaned inwardly.

"Stay there until I say otherwise."

Never mind, White star is still crazy. Fredo couldn't help but remember the last time he had been punished in his office.

'I should hand my will to Naru, in case I'm never returning back the same.'

"…Yes, Your Excellency."

"And as for that dragon,"

'There's still more?!'

"You will report every detail of that encounter. Later."

Right, that's a thing.

"Yes, sir."

Gods, Fredo felt exhausted. What did he ever do to deserve this?

'It's all Goldie's fault.'

White Star lifted a hand and pointed to the door.

Fredo, wisely, bolted. Followed by Naru who would rather die than be in the same room as White Star.

Unfortunately, no funeral would happen but he could always request his father to act on it since he paid a generous amount on the coffin.

The door clicked shut.

White Star pinched the bridge of his nose.

There was a long pause.

He let out a slow, slow breath and muttered under it, "How did I end up with a bunch of idiots…"

Callis stirred, nose twitching as something soft brushed his cheek.

Warm.

He didn't even need to open his eyes to know whose arms he was in.

He already knew.

The heartbeat was steady, comforting.

His father.

'I'm home.'

A small part of him—the part that stayed vigilant—relaxed immediately.

Callis let out a quiet sigh and nuzzled closer, cheek pressing against smooth fabric over firm muscle.

His father had great muscles.

....And that dragon too but our protagonist would rather not see him ever again.

Honestly, just thinking about him makes his slacker life sensez go crazy.

Terrible thoughts really.

Suddenly, a strange creaking sound interrupted his thoughts.

Callis blinked one eye open.

Oh.

There was Fredo.

Tied up.

Out cold and somehow dangling upside down from the ceiling.

His hair was a mess. One sock was missing. His shirt had unbuttoned itself out of mercy. He wasn't moving, except for the soft spin each time the rope turned.

But somehow, he was still handsome.

Callis said nothing—what could he even say?

He's still a baby and can't voice out his thoughts

'Not my problem.'

It reeks of trouble and he doesn't want to be near any of that.

It wasn't really a surprise. Honestly, it's not the first time he saw his uncle being punished by his dad.

Really tragic. But, well, Fredo brought it on himself.

Still half-tucked in his father's arms, he gave a tiny yawn and reached up with his chubby hand. Gently brushing through a strand of red hair.

'His hair is longer now.'

White Star stopped cutting his hair when he found out that Callis liked to play with it sometimes.

Of course, our MC knew none of that.

White Star, who had finally been able to sleep again once he had his son in his arms, felt the slight movement and opened his eyes.

He blinked down at Callis, his gaze softening.

Without saying anything, White Star leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his son’s forehead. It wasn't much, just a simple kiss, but Callis felt warmth that couldn't be described with simple words from it.

His father was awkward sometimes and rarely expressed himself but moments like this made up for it.

It felt nice.

Which is why Callis never took his father seriously when he almost beat his uncle like that. He's in a world where dragons and Gods are a thing and not to mention ancient powers too.

It was a world where even the side characters could turn out to be hidden martial artists!

So, as long as his father doesn't actually kill his uncle, he won't make that big of a deal of it.

He learned not to judge.

Plus, Fredo totally deserved it.

Callis' rosy cheeks puffed. Then he smiled. And right then, without a word, White Star pulled him in closer.

See? His father was awkward, but still a good person.

He won't hurt a fly.

Callis was always a good judge of character.

White Star began to pat his back. Slow, and rhythmic.

Callis let out a tiny hum and snuggled even closer. If his father wanted to hug him tighter and pat him to sleep, then who was Callis to stop him?

This was the least he could do to repay his father for all the love he'd been shown.

Fredo was still dangling up there, oh well it's not his story.

'I wonder how the black egg is doing'.

It had been a while since he checked up on it. But, it could wait. He'll do it once he wakes up.

It was time for a nap.

It was night time.

And Naru had outdone himself.

Naru had everything set up just right. The room—no, hall—was filled with many silly decorations he may or may not have stolen from three different storerooms.

It honestly looked ridiculous.

There were purple flowers everywhere, especially Lilies, Fredo's favorite, probably. They were crazy crazy and bright. But that was the point.

It was meant to be as extra as Fredo himself.

In the center of it all, there was a big framed picture of Fredo. It was the worst picture he could find of him, which was a very difficult task since his father was always handsome and knew how to pose in every random situation.

Naru stood proudly in front of it.

Just as planned, the guests were all in—not black. Anything but black, actually. One guy came in full yellow. Another wore a robe with glitter.

And Naru's favourite as of yet, a lady came and brought a tiny umbrella with all the colours of the rainbow for no reason. It was great.

No one looked like they were attending a funeral, exactly how Naru imagined Fredo would like it.

It was in his honour after all.

His dad was still alive of course. Locked up in White Star's office after what he had done. But just because he wasn't dead didn't mean they couldn't throw a silly little celebration.

Everyone needed a break.

And The dragon half blood paid a lot for it...using Fredo's money of course.

It was his funeral, even if he wasn't invited.

He'd even convinced Marquis Gersey to come, somehow. The head priest had taken one look at the theme and immediately said yes.

He was now chatting it up with a bunch of priests he dragged along. They didn’t seem to mind. Free food and a break? Who wouldn't show up?

Even Count Hubesha was here.

Naru still wasn't sure how that happened. She was dressed in full armor, standing near the wall with her arms crossed, looking like she was ready to cut someone if they sneezed too loud. Honestly, that was fair. If anything went wrong, she was the peacekeeper.

It saves Naru a lot of trouble.

Then there was Count Mock.

Naru had invited him just to see what would happen. The man hated Fredo. Loathed him. Wanted his position and power more than anything. But the words 'Fredo’s funeral' seemed to do the trick.

He showed up faster than expected, smug and all and having the time of his life.

Naru of course ignored the fact that this place is all but a social gathering and perfect for crazy crazy stuff.

Everything was perfect.

Fredo would've loved this.

Too bad he wasn't here to see it.

While Naru was adjusting a crooked flower stand for the fourth time and making sure the snacks were placed in the order of Fredo's favourite food.

Dorph and Sayeru came and took his attention.

They didn't exactly blend in, considering they were wearing their usual outfits—but someone, probably Dorph, had thought to throw on matching colorful, bright scarves on to match the theme.

The fashion effort was noted and appreciated.

"Didn't think you'd actually come," Naru said, handing over drinks like a proper host.

Dorph chuckled, mane of hair shaking with the movement. The middle aged lion looked as feeble as always, of course Naru knew better than to think he's weak.

"Wouldn't miss it," Dorph admitted, giving the room a slow look. "You did a good job here."

Naru beamed appreciated the compliment.

Sayeru leaned in, eyes scanning the crowd. "Is the young prince here?"

"Nope," Naru said, sipping from his cocktail. "He's with our liege, both sleeping of course. After what happened, white star is Keeping him close to his sight which made it the perfect moment to do all this."

He chuckled and continued," You think I could've pulled this off if the White Star was awake?"

All three of them paused, thought about White Star's reaction, and immediately laughed.

They chatted for a bit. Sayeru got caught up talking to a kitchen maid about a bunch of recipes. Droph somehow ended up at the dessert table holding three plates.

Guests were chatting, toasting, laughing—and every once in a while, someone would solemnly nod toward Fredo's picture and grieve like he had actually died.

It soon became a sight you'd see more of.

The castle staff were all here too, eating and drinking between laughs, everyone was happy.

Even though this was clearly a funeral.

Then came the sound of glass tapping.

The room settled.

The priests had stepped up. Gersey stood at the front, his pink robes shined, the purple flowers framed him as he fitted perfectly for le theme Naru forced everyone to take part in.

"It's time," he said, grinning like this was the best thing he'd done all year.

Everyone paid no mind to how out of character he was, no one could judge.

It's not every day you attend the funeral of a high ranking vampire in this kingdom.

As fake as it was of course.

He cleared his throat.

"We gather tonight in memories of our Fredo-nim," he said, his smile dropped to fit the act. "A man of charm, loved by all, and somehow questionable luck."

A pause. No one laughed. Not because it wasn't funny, but because they were committed to the act. Deadpan expressions all around.

"Though he is alive and currently... held hostage," Gersey continued, tone never shifting, "we take this moment to reflect on his life, his contributions, and his role that was like no other."

From the corner, Dorph took a sip of his drink, mane rustling slightly as he muttered, "it was his fault though."

Gersey pretended not to hear.

"He was a good duke."

Some heads nodded. A few people wiped at their eyes, whether from actual tears or effort to stay in character.

"He ruled fair, treated people right and one of the few who could stand next to His excellency and that alone says a lot."

He turned with a sweeping gesture, voice rising, "And now, we call forth his beloved son, our dear host—Naru."

Applause. Some claps were polite, others dramatic. One person may have whistled.

We don't judge.

Naru adjusted his half-cape—don't ask—and stepped forward.

He stopped before Fredo's portrait, which had been surrounded by lit candles, gifts, and an alarming amount of flowers.

He turned to the crowd with all the seriousness he could muster.

"Thank you," Naru began, "all of you, for coming here tonight… to mourn with me the loss of someone who, somehow against all odds, is not dead."

Muted laughter rippled through the crowd.

"We all love him and father was many things to us" He smiled. "He shined bright for one. He likes to play games and his ambitions were like no other! And I'm sure many of you would love the chance to take his place."

Count mock tsked, but otherwise stayed silent since he was truly enjoying himself and making possible allies.

"We wear color tonight," Naru added, "because father would've liked nothing less. And because mourning in black would be too dull for a man as dramatic as him."

That got a faint smile from Sayeru. Even Count Hubesha, seated near the back, gave a light nod.

Naru bowed slightly. "Thank you for being here. Let's send him off properly—even if he's just stuck somewhere upstairs."

He stood up, then raised his glass. "May he never find out we did this behind his back tonight."

A sea of drinks lifted in the air.

"To Fredo!"

"To Fredo!" They cheered, glasses raised high.

Gersey lifted his arm and called out, "Bring out the coffin!"

There was a small beat of silence before sound came in.

From behind the curtain—yes, there was a curtain—, four castle staff appeared carrying a sleek black casket wrapped in sheer purple fabric and lined with subtle golden thread. It looked unnecessarily expensive.

Fredo would've approved.

They carefully set it down in front of Fredo's picture, which was now surrounded by even more flowers. Someone had tossed a flower crown on the frame.

No one questioned it.

The room shifted. People stood, slowly making their way forward with the flowers they'd been given.

Everything should be perfect and match the theme of course.

The priest nodded, his tone turning soft, "Let us begin the Offering of Farewells. One by one, please come forward and place your flowers inside."

Naru was the first to stepped forward.

He was quiet for a moment, looking at the casket with a soft smile, flower in hand. "I don't really know what people usually say at funerals,"he began, "but... thank you...for being my father."

He didn't say much afterwards but the meaning was clear.

He placed his chosen flower carefully inside the coffin and stepped back, allowing the next to follow.

Then came Dorph, scarf clashing severely with his outfit. He looked at the coffin, blinked once, and sighed. "This is ridiculous," he muttered, but not in a mean way. "Still... you'd love this."

He placed his flower beside Naru's and Sayeru followed.

"You were insufferable sometimes," he muttered as he set his flower inside, "but you always made things... interesting. I'll give you that."

One by one, the rest followed.

Soon, the coffin was filled with purple petals of different shapes and sizez.

Naru was satisfied.

Everyone was happy, and continued their night chatting and having the time of their life.

There won't be any more opportunities such as this after all, and everyone made the best of it.

'I should do this again in the future.'

Naru prayed that next time, Callis will be here to join them.

Meanwhile, Fredo was still dangling upside down, starving and hoping for this nightmare to end.

If only he knew that his own son was having a blast with literally everyone without a care in the world.

Eruhaben appeared in the old lair, golden dust fading around him.

It was silent.

Quiet.

His gaze swept across the empty space. Dirt was everywhere and it was a mess. It was destroyed in multiple places making it not look like a dragon's lair at all.

Obviously no one had lived here for ages.

He looked around until his eyes found the one thing that stood out in his friend's lair.

Bones.

Collapsed in place. Wings half-folded. Head lowered. As if he had just laid down to rest and never got back up.

He didn't move for a while.

"…So this is where you died."

His voice was weak, he stepped closer to the body that was obviously unnatural.

Dragon bones never stay after death.

That is if they passed away naturally.

His fingers curled slightly.

"I'll get to the bottom of this, you have my word."

He crouched down, brushing his hand along the bones of his old friend.

"Your son will be safe with me, you can rest now."

With that, he stood up and started his investigation.

This was personal after all.

Chapter Text

It had been two weeks since he had returned home, and everything was slowly going back on track.

And in that time, he had achieved something truly magnificent—Absolutely nothing.

All he did was eat, sleep, repeat.

It was perfect.

A true slacker's paradise.

No one asked him to do anything— not that he had anything to do, of course.

Also, he hadn't seen uncle Fredo since that day. Must've been busy and Callis wasn't one to question someone's absence.

His father, on the other hand, hadn't left his side. Which was fine. He slept a lot too. Not surprising — he always did when they were together.

Callis respected that.

And honestly, his father always looked so tired. Sleeping will do him good anyway.

Of course, as always, the dream never lasted.

Paradise never did.

And so, he was to suffer once more.

Today, Callis found himself in the garden — or rather, kidnapped into it — by Naru.

The dragon half blood had made it his life's mission to teach Callis how to say either 'Naru' or 'hyung.'

Preferably the latter.

Apparently, Fredo had accidentally let it slip that Callis said his first word a few days ago.

He hadn't said what the word was — probably because he valued his life — but that was enough for the teen to ignite his inner fire...passion? ..what ever it was.

Callis didn't like it.

Especially when he wasn't even at the right age yet to speak.

Then again, this was a fantasy world. Maybe this was normal.

Anything could happen.

He was sitting on Naru's lap, the black dragon egg that was larger than him was laying beside them, occasionally shifted when Naru raised his voice or made wild gestures.

It was unclear whether it was reacting to the sound or not but, Callis liked to think that it did.

Dragons are intelligent beings, who's to say that the egg was actually paying attention?

Besides, the idea that he wasn't alone with this teen made him feel better.

"Okay, repeat after me," Naru said, holding up a book full of cute pictures that was totally unrelated to all this.

"Hyung."

Callis blinked at him.

"Come on, just one little 'hyung.' Or even Naru. I'll take Naru."

Callis glanced at the picture, then back to Naru.

"Huu!"

"Close. Not really. But it's a start."

"Mmn."

"That's even worse."

Callis reached out, patted Naru's sleeve once, then rested his hand on the book. He stared. Dead-eyed.

He won't do this.

Callis would rather slack.

The dragon egg wobbled. Naru looked like he'd been personally insulted and looked at the egg as if speaking to it.

"I am a good teacher! He just doesn't want to say it."

Callis looked between the egg and the half blood as if they were having a legit conversation.

'Why am I even here?'

Not about to give up, Naru chose another tactic.

"Okay," Naru sighed, adjusting Callis on his lap. "So maybe hyung was a bit much."

Callis gave him a look. You think?

Naru exhaled dramatically, brushing back his hair. "Alright, let's try something simpler. Something every baby can say."

He leaned in, looking straight at Callis.

The young prince tilted his head.

'What is he going to do?'

"Say dad."

Callis blinked once.

"You can do that, right?" Naru encouraged. "Just da. One syllable! That's all I'm asking for."

Callis stayed silent.

"…Please?"

Callis looked to the side. The dragon egg twitched twice. His comrade was cheering him on.

He looked back at Naru, who was trying his absolute hardest and looked one second away from crying.

It was pathetic.

Truly.

He sighed inwardly. He really didn't want to say that cursed word again. Even if last time was a mistake.

But, it's not like... that dragon was here and he won't be making that mistake again.

Yeah, they were alone in the garden and no one else would hear him say it.

Plus, the Naru looked desperate.

Callis was weak against that.

He opened his mouth.

"Da."

Naru froze.

"…Did you just—? Say it again."

Callis sighed, and said it again. "Da-da."

Naru gasped like he'd just seen a mine of mana crystals.

"You actually said it!!!"

The dragon half blood never felt so proud in his life.

He couldn't wait to share the news!

Just as Naru looked ready to burst from happiness, and of course ready to brag to Fredo about it, something shifted.

Callis felt Naru's reaction just as fast.

The older boy stiffened. His arms wrapped around Callis in an instant, pulling him close. The dragon egg was tugged in too, tucked protectively against his side.

Callis blinked, confused. His fingers curled into Naru's cloth.

'What is happening?'

He looked up.

Naru wasn't smiling anymore.

His expression was dark. Alert. Not like anything Callis had seen on him before.

Callis, who was about to express his displeasure, shut up immediately

Then he heard it.

"Not bad, young one. You sensed me quicker than I expected."

Callis groaned internally.

Oh. Him.

Great.

'Why was he even here?'

Eruhaben stepped out of nowhere and walked like he owned the place. Golden hair flowing, robes unnecessarily shiny. Handsome, as always—not gonna lie—but…

He's not welcomed here.

Mostly because he came uninvited.

Callis wasn't too worried, though. Nothing bad was going to happen. The ancient dragon had taken care of him when he was sick, so he figured he was safe. Probably.

Plus, he had good muscles so it shouldn't be too bad.

In conclusion, as long as he wasn't involved, he didn’t care.

Naru's grip tightened and didn't budge. "Why are you here?"

Eruhaben looked entirely too amused. "Relax. I mean no harm." His gaze shifted down and landed on Callis.

The unlucky kid looked healthy. The dragon was pleased.

"You look well," he said with a soft smile.

Callis blinked, and just stared at him.

Then Eruhaben's gaze shifted—past Callis, toward something behind the young dragon.

His brows lifted. "...Is that... a dragon egg?"

Naru didn't answer.

He didn't need to.

Without a word, Naru raised a shield around them. It wasn't much and obviously won't hold back again the ancient dragon if he really wanted to break it.

But it was enough.

Naru had already sent a signal to Fredo.

He just needs to buy time.

The egg that was pressed tightly to Naru's side, moved.

But no one noticed.

Eruhaben tilted his head, clearly not expecting a defensive response. His eyes narrowed slightly as he registered the shield.

Eruhaben studied it, eyebrows raising slightly. "Your control's impressive," he said, tone more curious if anything. "You've trained well."

Naru didn't respond.

There was a tense pause. Callis could practically hear the static in the air.

Eruhaben's golden eyes landed on the egg again and lingered for a moment.

'He's so protective of it. Perhaps...'

Eruhaben was truly too old for this.

He'll think about it later. It was time to address the real reason he'd come.

Now—how to convince the young dragon of his true origin?

Eruhaben cleared his throat and stepped back, giving them a bit of space. His gaze wandered around the garden.

"Did you live here all your life?" he asked casually, eyes drifting back to the young dragon.

Naru blinked, confused by the sudden question, but didn't drop his guard completely.

Well... maybe just a little. The shield was still up—barely—but his hold on Callis relaxed.

"Just recently," he answered, not that it seemed important.

Eruhaben hummed, as if that confirmed something only he understood. Then his gaze sharpened, locking with Naru's dark eyes.

"And you do know the vampire isn't actually your father, correct?"

Naru froze.

"…Yes?" he replied, drawn out and hesitant. What was he getting at?

Even Callis, from the safety of Naru's arms, raised an eyebrow. The ancient dragon was clearly up to something.

"I mean…" Naru muttered, "Fredo's obviously a vampire. I'm a... dragon. I was there when he took me in.”

"Good," Eruhaben said with a pleased nod.

He hummed again, thoughtful, then added, "You know, that look in your eyes reminded me of an old friend."

Now both Naru and Callis looked at each other, confused. What is going on?

Callis felt like the dragon was about to start a monologue.

....which he kind of did.

Eruhaben smiled faintly, almost fondly. "He was a bastard, honestly. Sharp tongue, worse temper, absolutely insufferable… but still a good comrade. A dragon like no other."

Obviously, Naru blocked Callis's ears when the Goldie cursed. Our protagonist simply rolled his eyes at that.

Still, Callis blinked slowly. Naru tilted his head.

They didn't interrupt. What else were they going to do?

Eruhaben continued, voice soft with memory. "His name was Olienne. Unlike the others of our kind, we used to socialise more. Even helped him through his first growth phase."

His gaze settled on Naru again.

"I haven't heard from him for a long time... And it came to my attention recently that he left behind an egg."

A beat passed. The wind rustled the trees.

"And that egg," Eruhaben said quietly, "was you."

'What the hell?'

If Naru had been a dragon from the very beginning—born one, raised one—maybe, maybe he would've believed the ancient dragon.

But he knew the truth.

It was simply impossible.

And yet… the dragon in front of him didn't look like he was lying. Eruhaben had came here, confident, certain of the truth he believed.

Naru stared, and Eruhaben met his gaze with calmness.

He hesitated.

Callis, meanwhile, was speechless. Is this some sort of hidden lineage? He looked back and forth between the two dragons.

If what he said is true, does this mean Naru has an uncle?

...
..
.

Nope, he won't deal with this.

Callis mentally checked out.

He could already feel his slacker life instinct screaming at him to stay away.

And he'll do just that.

Unless, of course, Goldie here decided to start unwanted drama.

'I won't care if he's a dragon. If Naru gets upset, it's over.'

Callis really liked Naru.

Even the egg—still pressed against Naru—shifted, giving the faintest wiggle, like it was nodding in agreement.

Meanwhile, Eruhaben wasn't sure how long they had been staring at each other.

Neither of them blinked.

The dragon just let Naru stare him down. After all, what he said was heavy to drop on anyone after all.

Naru, on the other hand, got over this crazy crazy ordeal quickly. And honestly, now that he could think straight, he just wanted to see how he could gain from this situation instead.

If the dragon was telling the truth—and, by the looks of it, the ancient dragon genuinely believed that Naru was his friend's son—then this was an opportunity.

A chance to gain an ally. An ancient dragon at their side could be a game-changer for White Star. And White Star would be pleased.

But Naru wasn’t just going to take this at face value. No, he needed proof. There were no loopholes. He wouldn't just walk into this blindly.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then opened them with a sharp focus, his gaze locked onto goldie.

"Prove it."

Eruhaben blinked, clearly not expecting such a direct demand. But then, he smiled, as though he had already anticipated it.

He expected nothing less from a dragon.

He reached into his robes and pulled out a notebook.

Eruhaben extended it toward Naru.

"This," he began, "is my friend's diary… Your father's. His scent is all the evidence you need."

Naru furrowed his brow.

'Scent?'

It took a moment for the pieces to click in his mind. And then, it finally clicked.

No wonder he was so convinced.

Before Naru could dig any deeper into his thoughts, Eruhaben stepped closer, pushing the diary through Naru's shield. "You can check it yourself."

Naru's fingers hesitated as he touched the diary.

But before he could hold it…

A figure stepped into his line of sight.

Sword drawn.

Naru froze.

It was White Star.

────────✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧────────

• Author note:

SOMEONE ( idk how to mention/tag) MADE SILLY ART OF THIS CHAP AND I'M CRYING RN! it's so beautiful QAQ

Chapter Text

The poor garden was praying to not be ruined today.

Hopefully, violence won't be the answer.

White Star stood, his flaming sword raised, eyes locked on Eruhaben. He didn't move, just pointed the blade, his intent clear.

Fall back.

Eruhaben met it without a word.

His eyes were fixed solely on the man before him and made no sudden moves, just… shifted his foot back.

A single step.

The last thing he wanted was for this clearly unhinged maniac to start stabbing.

Goldie wasn't here to fight, after all.

Naturally, the sword stayed raised.

Fredo came rushing in, stumbling a little as he dropped to his knees beside the boys, scanning them for any signs of injury.

He didn't even spare a glance at the dragon.

His hair was a mess, clothes too. It was unlike him to be this uh..unshiny. Naru caught something on his skin—a strange mark, maybe a bruise? But he didn't ask.

He was too tired for this.

"Are you both alright?"

Fredo was still outside the shield, unable to get any closer since Naru wasn't willing to risk lowering it.

What? White Star might just lose it and turn this into a bloodbath.

The Dragon half blood glanced at Fredo, then at Callis, who looked perfectly fine—confused if anything, but fine nonetheless. "We're fine."

They were never hurt in the first place.

The panicked vampire didn't believe that for a second and did a double take, scanning them all over again. Still not trusting it. Honestly.

Naru rolled his eyes.

What, did he think they were made of glass?

Even if they were actually in danger, it's not like anything could hurt them.

Fredo let out a relieved sigh, looked around until his gaze landed on his liege, and—wait, what? Why was he here?!

'Fuck.'

Before Fredo could voice his thoughts, White Star beat him to it.

"Why are you here?"

Eruhaben raised a brow.

He studied the man—red hair, a mask covering part of his face, but even with it, the resemblance to the unlucky kid was undeniable.

'Must be his actual father this time.'

And if memory served, also the king of this kingdom.

Great.

'I'm too old for this.'

Still, the dragon offered a polite smile as he introduced himself to the human who had the scent of nature in him.

He'll look into it later.

"I'm Eruhaben."

That's all, no further introduction. Still, he made eye contact with Naru, "and I'm here to meet my nephew."

The silence after that was getting a tad awkward to be honest.

To say even White Star was baffled would be an understatement.

He just...stared?

Fredo, on the other hand, visibly confused.

'Nephew?'

Naru was clearly his son, adopted or not that doesn't change the fact that he's his.

'Why is this bastard saying bullshit.'

Meanwhile, Naru sighed.

Did he really have to be so dramatic about it? Now everyone is confused and even his father looks like he's one step away to lose his sanity.

Naru took pity on them and chose to explain for le sake of world peace.

[ He thinks I’m the son of his friend. Apparently , I have his scent. I wonder why. ]

The sarcasm was clear, and White Star chose not to comment.

Fredo blinked once, then again, and immediately understood.

'How did he even—? You know what, nevermind.'

Naru was satisfied with their reaction and chose to inform them of his silly plan.

[I say we play along. No one could change his mind after all, and we could use an ally like him.]

White Star didn't respond at first, still quietly staring at the ancient dragon Infront of him.

The dragon stood patiently, waiting for their action.

He lowered his sword, but still kept his guard up. Naru followed and lowered his shield as well.

Our silly awkward but best dad chose to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Hope he doesn't regret it.

And maybe the garden won't be ruined?

Callis had been quiet the entire time,  watching the whole exchange between them.

Really, he expected worse.

The shield was finally down, which meant that things were settled.

Callis tilted his head, resting it against Naru's shoulder. His big eyes followed the red haired man's every expression—the twitch of his brow, the tight grip on his sword even though it was already lowered.

'He's worried.'

And honestly? He's still not used to it.

But it does things to his lil heart.

Callis figured His father was worried about him, and had gone to attack the dragon who clearly came uninvited.

Our protagonist felt that White Star deserves to know that he's alright.

Time to reassure his dear, dramatic, a lil awkward father of his.

He sat up straight, puffed out his tiny chest, and called out to him with a lil hand raised at him.

"Da!"

The word was soft, sweet. And coming from him, it had a shiny effect on people who heard it.

Like those silly background flower scenes when something cute happens.

Callis beamed! He was very proud of the fact he said it so perfectly.

White Star froze.

Eruhaben blinked.

Callis blinked up at his father. His smile could set thousands to their knees.

A little proud. A little shy.

White Star's eyes were wide open.

Goldie smiled. "Ho? You still call me that, even with your father right here?"

Callis looked at him, face slowly scrunching into a frown.

Was he crazy?!

No, no, no. That wasn't for him! That greeting was very obviously for the awkward, redhead father of his!

He pointed one chubby finger straight at White Star.

"Dada!"

There. That should be clear enough.

Fredo, bless his heart, realized instantly that something terrible was about to begin.

Still, he ruffled Callis's hair gently, a small smile playing at his lips.

"Our lil highness started to speak! Now say uncle Fredo~"

Callis decided to ignore this idiot.

White Star's eye twitched.

Naru adjusted Callis in his arms and explained. "He's been practicing."

He was proud of course, but also wanted to leave the place before someone exploded.

Yes, Naru was keeping an eye on his leige and knew something was up.

Then, of course, Goldie decided to join and make it worse.

Eruhaben added with casual mischief to further explain his comment, "Ah, but you must know—when he stayed in my lair, unlucky kid said that word first to me."

He paused for effect.

"Your child must've mistaken me for his other parent."

Callis nearly choked on air.

He did not! It was Goldie who misinterpreted it!!!

White Star didn't move. Didn't blink.

But the temperature dropped.

'Hmm?'

Eruhaben looked at the man beside him. Shocked, but then his expression changed into curiosity.

The pressure he felt coming from this human was something similar to an adult Dragon's Dragon Fear.

He never felt this before.

'It is almost at the level of a Dragon Fear.'

No, it was equivalent.

'Is he perhaps...'

Now is not the time. He'll look into later.

Fredo stepped back and raised both hands. "Wait, let me explain—!"

White Star was pissed.

Callis waved his tiny hand, clearly trying to get the focus back.

He does not want to see his uncle upside down again!! Though...he wasn't that innocent.

He did start all this after all.

On the other hand, the moment White Star's killing intent spiked, Naru didn't even hesitate.

He stood up, held Callis close— securely nestled against his shoulder— and scooped up the dragon egg with his other arm, tucking it gently against the tiny redhead.

Of course, the diary was hidden as well.

Callis blinked.

Wait.

He was being taken away?

Naru turned without a word and began walking toward the castle.

Eruhaben tilted his head, and watched as his nephew walked away.

Of course, he decided to follow them.

What else could he do?

Behind them, Fredo was frozen mid-step, very much regretting all his life choices. "W-Wait, don't leave me here with him—!"

Callis sighed and clung lightly onto Naru.

It's always Fredo's fault.

Truly, at this point, it was almost impressive how consistent the man got into trouble.

Our protagonist didn't bother thinking too hard about it anymore. It was Fredo after all.

Callis pouted.

The redhead glanced down at the egg pressed against him, patting it gently. The egg hummed, reacting to his touch.

At least someone understood him.

From behind, Eruhaben observed the scene with the faint smile, head shaking in amusement.

Naru just ignored the dragon following for now.

He got better things to do.

After the garden incident, things had… somewhat settled.

Everyone collectively decided to just deal with the current situation at hand.

Of course, the garden survived thanks to Eruhaben fixing it after said mess.

it wasn't exactly out of the goodness of his heart. No, the ancient dragon was more interested in showing off in front of his newly acquired nephew.

Meanwhile, Naru was actually impressed.

The garden was literally destroyed when his liege was done with it. For the ancient dragon to return it back to life like that....

He might consider letting Goldie stay for a while.

Of course, calming White Star down was the top priority. Which wasn't that difficult to do.

Naru simply handed the young prince to him and the task was done.

Callis was curled against White Star's chest, half-asleep at this point. Today really took most if not all the energy he had gathered up.

Being a child was a curse on its own, but Callis loved to slack so it wasn't really a problem.

He hadn't made a sound the whole time. That, more than anything, had calmed White Star down.

The moment he had his child back in his arms, everything just… stopped.

Naru leaned by the window. Fredo sat with a cup in his hand, pretending to drink but clearly not tasting any of it.

It was clear the his father was still reeling from his recent beating.

Everyone was waiting for the dragon to speak.

Eruhaben sighed, he'll just say what he needed to say and get it over with.

"I would like to take Naru with me to my lair."

Cough.

Fredo choked on his tea.

White Star, calm now with his baby tucked against him, turned his head slightly toward the golden dragon.

Naru blinked, confused.

'Is he asking to kidnap me, respectfully?'

Fredo stood up. "You want to what?"

Of course, he got ignored.

Eruhaben didn't look at him. His focus stayed on Naru.

"I will help you."

Naru's eyes never left the dragon's.

"Stay in my lair."

The ancient dragon wanted to pass everything he had to someone else in order to leave his mark on this world before he died.

And who's a better candidate than his friend's son?

Eruhaben didn't have enough time.

Twenty five years to live at maximum.

He had always been a social dragon, only because he wanted to choose a candidate of his own to carry his legacy.

"I will pass on everything I have."

Any normal dragon would decline. However, Eruhaben asked, knowing that this time it would be different.

'But, he might still decline.'

The teen was a dragon after all, even if he was like no other.

"I'm not forcing anything," he said. "I am a generous dragon, so I will not seek to get revenge especially on you."

There was a pause.

Eruhaben waited patiently for his answer.

Even Fredo calmed down, knowing that the dragon was serious.

Callis had a thoughtful expression on his face.

He didn't comment. He couldn't.

But he looked at Naru and smiled, hoping that some higher power out there might share his thoughts to him.

'Do it.'

It was for free for gods sake!

However, Naru had other plans.

"I refuse."

Callis slowly brought both of his lil hand to his face, resting them against his cheeks with a soft sigh.

He's surrounded by idiots.

Chapter Text

Before Naru, well… became Naru—

He was a nobody.

Belonged to no one. A half blood that could never belong anywhere.

A simple test subject that had no will of his own. A weapon for White Star to use.

Of course that was many years ago.

It all changed when he met Fredo, who took interest in him. He fought for him, pleaded White star to take him in as his own.

In Fredo, Naru saw family.

Naru wasn’t sure why the vampire did it. Maybe he didn't even fully understand it himself. But he accepted it.

Fredo had showered him with all the care and love one could ask for, stayed when Naru expected him to leave. Gave him a name.

Called him his son.

And Naru... well, he never said it out loud, but he's forever grateful to him.

Even so, one thing never changed.

He wasn't meant for this kind of life.

Naru was, and still is a weapon. Even with the experiment stopping, even though he doesn't need to eat more of his kind.

The dragon half blood still wants to be useful, that's all he knew in life.

He never hated White Star. That would've required expecting more from him. Naru had learned early on that the man didn't feel things like others did.

But he, before everything else, was the first to take him in.

Over time, things have changed, and even though their relationship has improved over the years, Naru still wanted White star's approval more than anything.

Becoming a full dragon was all he could think of. That was his dream.

That was all he wanted.

But since that became impossible to do, he had to search for the next best thing.

It came on its own. He didn't even have to look for it.

Eruhaben—an ancient dragon and currently the oldest dragon left, a wild card in White Star's way—came to them, completely convinced that Naru was his friend's lost son.

It was funny, really.

Naru knew it wasn't true, but he didn't correct him.

Because lies like that were useful. And Naru saw a chance. A way to secure Eruhaben on their side.

But it wouldn’t be easy.

A mistaken identity wasn't enough. Not if Naru wanted Eruhaben to take him seriously.

Then, just as if fate decided to take his side, Eruhaben made the first move.

He offered to train him.

Naturally, he rejected the offer.

Not because he didn't want it. No, he absolutely did. Being trained by an ancient dragon wasn't something you just walked away from.

But where’s the fun in making it easy?

Dragons are known as a prideful, powerful race.

He'll have to set his interest fully on him, if he wanted his plan to work.

So what if he came up with a silly, background story? No one will question it.

Naru doubted White Star and Fredo would tell the truth of that.

He gazed around, subtly checking their reaction after refusing Eruhaben's offer.

White Star barely reacted. One eyebrow lifted, but that was it. His attention was on Callis' hair, twirling the soft strands around his fingers.

The lil prince sat in his lap, head in his tiny hands and looking utterly done with everything. Of course, paired with that dramatic baby sigh, Naru wanted to laugh, or pinch him.

Maybe both.

But he wasn't stupid. Not with White Star sitting right there.

And Fredo? Well... his father just looked confused if anything. Gave him the gaze of 'What are you up to?' but Naru chose to not answer him.

He has an act to perfect.

The dragon half blood looked at the ancient dragon.

He opened his mouth to speak.

"I appreciate the gesture," Naru said, tone light. "Really. But you can't expect me to just go along with whatever you say."

You're a stranger to me. Went unsaid.

Eruhaben studied the young dragon quietly. Questioning himself.

'Was I rash? Now the kid is cautious of me.'

Eruhaben smiled.

He expected nothing less from a dragon of course.

Looking outside the window, Naru smiled.

"This castle is my home. My lair."

A lair is everything to a dragon, and if he was going to win this dragon over, he needs to bullshit his way through.

Naru is quite good at doing that.

"I don't care who my sire is, or who you claim to know. All I know is, the years I spent alone were more than enough to understand one thing." He paused, made eye contact with the handsome dragon.

"I was abandoned."

Eruhaben's lips parted, but no sound came. That—no. No dragon would abandon their egg. Their hatchling.

It simply didn't happen! Could never happen. But if this kid had never been told the truth, then…

"His Excellency found me," Naru continued smoothly. "Took me in. My father adopted me and raised me as his own."

The best lies were laced with truth.

"They saved me," Naru said softly. "From the monsters who tortured me."

The room chilled. Eruhaben's expression darkened. Naru didn't want to know what kind of crazy crazy thoughts were forming in his mind.

"They're dead now," he added. "I killed them."

A pause.

Fredo looked at his son like he was trying to figure out what kind of nonsense he'd just heard.

Callis, listening to this story never thought that such a thing had actually happened.

'Were they the secret organization?'

Naru's background was very similar to the young dragon in the novel.

Similar but different.

There was no mention of another being tortured, but then again, maybe it was revealed after volume five?

After all, this kingdom was never in the volumes he read.

A shiver ran down his spine.

For a second, Callis imagined his slacker life waving goodbye.

...Nah he'll be fine.

The protagonist isn't here after all.

Naru looked up at the dragon, showing nothing of his emotions on his face.

Black eyes met golden.

"If you expect me to leave with you, you'll need more than just words for it."

Eruhaben said nothing.

But his silence was enough.

The room fell silent soon after.

Fredo clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention.

"Well, now that that's settled—how about some food? I'm starving."

Callis perked up instantly. He turned those beautiful cute, hopeful eyes toward his father.

He was feeling a bit hungry.

One look at this cute face and it hit like an arrow straight to le heart.

White Star sighed in defeat. Of course he couldn't say no.

He stood, adjusting Callis in his arms, then glanced toward their guest.

Eruhaben hadn't moved, still deep in thought.

A small glance at White Star was all it took for Fredo to act. He offered his most gracious grin.

"Since you're already here, we'd be terrible hosts if we didn't feed you properly, no? Come on, a family of Naru's is always welcomed."

Of course, Fredo still doesn't like the sight of the dragon but what could he do? If his son wants to play, he'll do everything to aid him.

After all, it's rare to see Naru being so mischievous.

Fredo wiped an imaginary tear.

'They grow up so fast.'

Eruhaben sighed. "…Thank you. I wouldn't want to impose, but I appreciate the invitation."

Fredo waved it off, "please. You've already came uninvited, might as well stay for dinner."

Naru had already turned to leave. "I'll make sure the staff doesn't mess anything up again."

Callis blinked. Again?

Our protagonist rarely ate with them so he doesn't know what usually happens at the dinning room.

It should be fine.

Right?

Since it was Callis' first time here, a special seat had been set just for him—right beside White Star.

He looked at the lil throne he's supposed to sit on and didn't want to be anywhere near it.

But of course, he had no say in the Matter.

Fredo sat to the right, Eruhaben to the left.

Naru settled beside his father, balancing a fork on his finger while waiting for the food to be served.

It should've been perfect.

Now, you might be wondering… why did it turn crazy crazy?

Simple.

It all started with a sneeze.

"A'choo!"

A soft sneeze echoed across the hall.

Everyone paused.

White Star blinked and looked down. "Callis?"

Callis was rubbing his face with lil hands, looking a bit dazed. His tiny brows scrunched, tried to sniff.

And sneezed again.

Fredo raised an eyebrow, but the concern wasn't immediate. "Is he…?"

Before anyone could answer, Callis sneezed again. And again.

His eyes became watery. His nose was red. He let out a helpless little sound between a whimper and another sneeze.

It was heartbreaking.

Fredo and White Star were already on their feet, Callis in his father's arms, trying to wipe his tiny face as the baby let out another miserable sneeze right into his shirt.

The vampire fussed around them trying to help.

Callis, for his part, just wanted this to end.

Why wasn't this day normal by any means?!

Was it too difficult to ask?!

He hated this.

It was getting difficult to breathe.

White Star held him close, one hand gently patting his back while he glared daggers at the poor staff who are bowing in fear of their life.

Eruhaben's eyes narrowed, scanned the room for anything that could cause the child to have such a strong reaction.

Naru followed his line of sight.

And then he saw them.

Lilies.

They were everywhere.

In the centerpiece. In the vases, on the walls, even dangling from the chandeliers. And more importantly, on the prince's throne.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Eruhaben didn't even think twice. He waved his hand, and a small golden dust blew through the hall—taking every lily in sight and yeeting them out of existence.

It was very effective.

The moment the flowers disappeared, Callis hiccupped, nestled his face deeper against his father's shoulder, and let out another sneeze.

but noticeably breathing better.

Fredo fell to his chair, relieved. He almost had a heart attack.

"Tsk, unlucky kid."

Eruhaben never saw someone as weak as him before. Then again, no one was as beautiful and interesting as him.

White Star didn't move. His arms stayed wrapped around his baby.

He swore to never let any flower near his son ever again.

Our silly, awkward but best dad was a tad traumatized by what just happened and even Fredo noticed that something was wrong.

The vampire cleared his throat.

"How about you go take lil highness to rest? I'll take care of our guest."

It was best to let the redhead calm down away from all the mess.

Fredo looked very pleasing in Callis eyes right now.

'Yes, take me away! I don't want to be anywhere near this cursed place.'

He might b a lil dramatic about it but who'd blame him? Our baby was exhausted.

His slacker life was at risk just by being here.

He wanted out.

White Star looked at Fredo then signalled at the staff who were still shacking in fear.

His orders were clear.

Fredo didn't bother acknowledging it. He simply hushed them away with his hand—no need to state the obvious.

Everything would be taken care of.

Even their uninvited guest wouldn't notice a thing.

Fredo chuckled.

It's been a while since he had some fun.

Chapter Text

White Star has been unusually quiet ever since the earlier incident. He walked slowly through the halls, holding Callis close like he was made of glass.

Callis didn't mind.

He could sense that his father was worried. And it wouldn't be a lie to say that he himself was not out of it either.

Callis hated pain.

This young body of his is very weak. Granted he's only five months old but...

He rather not go through that ever again.

It was a bit too much.

So when his father stayed silent, held him a bit more stronger than normal, the tiny redhead didn't say anything.

He just rested his cheek against the man's shoulder and closed his eyes halfway.

He's always like this when he's worried.

But still… it felt nice.

White Star's heartbeat was steady now. Not racing like it was before. Still, Callis could feel the worry hanging off him.

He tightened his tiny grip on his father's robe.

Just a little.

If White Star noticed, he didn't say anything. Just patted the redhead's head and kept walking silently.

Callis didn't move away.

They passed a few staff in the hall. No one spoke. They all bowed and stepped aside.

White Star didn't acknowledge them. His world was small right now. Just him and the baby in his arms.

It will be a lie if Callis didn't like his father's attention.

They reached the room. White Star stopped at the door.

Then he spoke, barely above a whisper.

"You scared me."

Callis didn't open his eyes. Just shifted slightly in his arms.

He didn't like seeing White Star like this. His silly, awkward but best dad rarely shared his feelings.

Callis felt a bit guilty.

If only he knew he had an allergy as bad as that before, he won't be in this situation.

His father deserves to know that he's fine. But since Callis can't say that yet, he'll do it in the way his father would understand.

He lifted one small hand and pressed it against White Star's chest. The muscles under his palm were strong.

Callis let his hand rest there, looked up at the man who was staring curiously at his action.

His expression showed nothing.

The redhead didn't hesitate to call out his father.

"Da!"

'Look, I'm fine! Stop thinking about it.'

White Star blinked a few times, then slowly touched Callis' cheek with his thumb. He didn't smile, just played with his cheeks for a bit.

Honestly, Callis was a bit annoyed by it but he let it be.

If letting his awkward father touch his face would make him feel better, then fine—Callis would sacrifice his dignity for it.

He closed his eyes, settling into the warmth of his touch, finally starting to relax.

Then he heard it.

"You're not allowed to scare me again."

Callis didn't open his eyes.

His father was very stupid. Thinking about stupid things. As if Callis would let such a thing happen again.

White Star gently laid him down in the crib, adjusting the blanket until his son looked completely at ease and comfortable.

Of course, Callis' favourite plushie was there too. Even the black egg that White Star personally placed next to his baby.

The black egg reacted as if sensing Callis, White Star only had to tabbed it once for it to stop.

It was funny how the egg still survived after all those years. He'll make sure that it stays by his son's side and if it ever betrays or harms him.

He'll crush it without hesitation.

But that's for the future, now he has some lilies to hunt.

The first thing Callis heard when he woke up were two voices in his room.

Not unusual. He'd been here for five months now and was more than used to the constant visitors.

But why are they loud?

He just wanted to sleep. Now that he was awake, he realized he was also hungry—and that just made it worse.

He couldn't go back to sleep like this.

Not that he never starved before. No, that's something he's used to.

But this body doesn't.

It was annoying.

From the other side of the room, the voices carried on.

"I believe you've stayed long enough, it might be time for you to leave, uncle."

"Haaaa, what a disrespectful bastard."

Callis groaned, he had enough of this.

'Get out.'

Naturally, the words weren't spoken. But the way he buried his face into the pillow with a tiny huff was enough to gain the attention of the two.

Both dragons fell silent, and two sets of eyes turned to the crib.

Then, two familiar heads peeked into view over the crib.

Naru was the first to approach. He leaned down, grinning as he always did, and gently poked at Callis' cheek.

"Awake? How was your sleep?"

Callis stared at him, deadpan.

Undeterred, Naru kept messing with his cheek and cooed, "Still uncomfortable?"

For the sake of his sanity, Callis decided to ignore him.

Eruhaben approached more gracefully, his long, shiny golden hair cascading over his shoulder like it had a mind of its own. He stopped beside Naru, gaze soft.

"You gave us quite the scare. Are you alright?"

Callis blinked.

He did find them a lil annoying since they woke him up. But even so... he had to admit, the older dragon looked very shiny.

His eyes lingered on Eruhaben's hair more than he liked to admit.

Curse his baby like reactions, he couldn't help but slowly raise his hand at him.

His little fingers opened and closed in a clumsy wave trying to get hold of the long hair.

Of course, as always, his actions were misunderstood.

Naru watched, mouth open in betrayal. "You wave at him?"

The ancient dragon smiled, misunderstanding the redhead's action as well and gently offered his beautiful white finger to him.

Callis instinctively held it.

Eruhaben smirked.

Naru had a look of despair on his face, turned to Eruhaben with narrowed eyes.

"This means nothing."

Eruhaben, still letting the now frozen Callis hold his finger, raised an elegant brow.

"Whatever makes you sleep at night."

Just as Naru opened his mouth for a very long crazy crazy comeback, a short, barely loud grumbling sound from the crib.

A pause.

Naru blinked. Eruhaben blinked. Callis wanted to disappear right there and then.

Naru broke first. "...Let's get him some food."

"Agreed."

When will this day end?

His head turned slowly. Big, round reddish brown eyes met Ron's. He blinked once.

Ron knelt beside him, smile sharp but gentle. "Need help, young master?" he asked with a tilt of his head. "This Ron would be honored to assist you in all your needs."

Cale flinched like a thief who just got caught in the act.

Ron chuckled under his breath. His young master truly was a delight to watch.

The baby looked toward the empty space beside the crib—the side his twin used to occupy.

Then back at the blanket. His fingers curled slightly, gripping the soft fabric like it was a lifeline.

Ron's smile faded into something softer.

"…I see," he murmured. "Must be very important to you then."

Cale didn't answer. Just let out a soft, tiny sigh, as if he had made a very important, clearly annoying decision.

Then, Cale's gaze shifted up at Ron. "Liss…" he said quietly.

Ron blinked.

His heart skipped a beat.

It wasn't much—just a sound, barely even a word. But it was clear.

The young master had just said his first word.

"…Callis?" he asked gently.

It can't be...

Did the young master still remember his twin after so long?

Cale looked at the pile of red beneath the blanket and leaned forward, placing both hands on it as if guarding a treasure.

"Liss!" he said again.

Ron was at a loss for words.

But his instincts told him what to do.

He quietly reached out and placed one gloved hand beside the pile, not touching it, just covering it properly.

"If it's for him… then this Ron shall help you keep it safe."

Cale stared at him.

And then, he smiled. A rare, precious smile that he had never seen on him before.

It did something to Ron's heart.

Ron placed a hand gently on the baby's head, smoothing down the red hair that had become messy thanks to his lil adventure.

"Very well, young master. Your secret is safe with me."

It's not like he could ever say no to him.

It's a simple request after all.

Chapter Text

He was alone.

It was quiet.

Not always, but most of the time.

He didn’t know how long he had been here. A really, really long time… maybe? maybe not. Time didn't make sense. It confused him.

He couldn't understand it, so he stopped trying.

It was easier that way.

And that was okay.

The cage—his cage—was all he knew. It wasn't soft, but it didn't hurt him either. It was comfortable. Made him feel safe.

He liked safe.

Sometimes it was a lil cold, and he'd curl up tighter. Other times it got warm enough that he could stretch a tiny bit, and that felt really nice.

He couldn't see anything, It was all... dark? but not scary dark! He wasn't scared!

It was soft, quiet and black, like the world was sleeping with him.

That didn't bother him at all. He could still feel. He could still hear.

He liked it when it was noisy. It felt less lonely.

They were funny and new and full of things he didn't understand. Voices, sometimes loud, sometimes annoying. But always outside his cage.

Always far away.

None of them ever talked to him, but he listened anyway.

Listening and learning was the only thing he could do.

He didn't know what they were saying, not really. But he tried hard to figure it out.

He listened with everything he had. He had nothing else to do... but he made it his mission to learn!

"It's just an egg."

Egg.

That word again.

The first thing he picked up from them.

He didn't really know what that meant, but if that's what they called him, then maybe that was who he was.

That made his thoughts spin again. Thinking was hard. His mind was too young for so many questions.

So, like always, he let the questions go.

And just listened.

No one gave him an answer.

Instead, he could feel his cage moving. It rocked, sometimes it would shake.

He didn't like it when it shook too much. It felt too much like falling, but he didn't feel scared.

He just hated it.

He wanted them to stop.

But no one listens to him.

He couldn't wait to be strong enough to break le cage! Even though he's still weak... still small.

But that's alright!

He can wait.

He's good at waiting.

Then... one day, something new happened.

Tap.

He stilled right away.

'What was that?'

He didn't know what that was. It was soft. Barely there. But he felt it.

Something had touched his cage.

Someone touched him.

He didn't move. He stayed still, not sure what to do. It felt nice, but also strange.

Then it came again.

Tap. Tap.

This time a bit gentler.

His heart fluttered—whatever that feeling was inside him, it felt warm.

'Who's that?' he thought, he still couldn't speak after all.

It felt so… nice.

Someone was greeting him, It felt like someone was saying hello.

To him.

He wanted more! But what was he supposed to do? He couldn't move much, his limbs were small and curled and sleepy.

They wouldn't listen. He didn't know what to do with this strange feeling.

So, he stayed still.

Pressed gently against the cage.

But he couldn't feel them anymore...

He tried to press closer to the cage, but it didn't help. They didn't come back.

It was lonely again.

He felt something funny in his chest. He didn't know what it was, but it made him feel a little sad.

Then—

Another tap.

His heart skipped a beat.

'They're back!'

This time, it was softer, Like they were trying not to scare him.

He wiggled a little, not knowing what to do. He wanted to reach out, to be noticed! But his tiny body wouldn't listen. So instead, he pressed as close to the wall as he could, hoping they could feel him, too.

And for the first time, he made his cage move.

...Maybe a bit too strong, he could feel himself rolling.

Oh no.

Everything spun.

He was dizzy.

The person outside sighed. He heard it! He's good at listening!

Then, he sensed it again.

Lil warm hands, they steadied him.

He wasn't dizzy anymore.

They stayed with him, he could feel it.

He didn't know who this person was. But he liked them. And for the first time since forever, the little dragon didn't feel quite so alone anymore.

He had gained a friend.

Eruhaben stared.

The black dragon egg rested peacefully against Naru's side, almost like it belonged there. The young dragon was lying on his back, flipping through a book lazily without a care in le world.

It was...odd?

In all his many years—far too many, if he was being honest—Eruhaben had never witnessed a scene quite like this. An unhatched dragon, nestled safely beside a half-grown one.

Out of everything he'd seen in his life, this might've topped the list.

He had seen the egg before, briefly if anything. He had many questions back then and now.

Could this egg also be Olienne?

Nah.

That bastard wasn't this lucky.

While Eruhaben stood there, being delulu at a crazy crazy level, Naru had long since noticed the stare burning a hole through him. Or rather, through Callis' young companion.

He knew questions were coming.

Of course they were.

But telling the truth wasn't an option. Not without risking everything else.

So, since he'd already blurred the line between truth and liez of his origins—just a little—what was one more lie?

"If you've got questions, just ask," Naru said, not bothering to look up from his book. "I'll be generous."

Eruhaben blinked, drawn out of his thoughts, and looked down at his nephew. He was the spitting image of Olienne in that moment, well...his personality truly mirrored his.

"Hoo," Eruhaben huffed. "A dragon being generous? Now I truly have seen everything."

"Just ask, old man."

Rude brat.

Still, Eruhaben found himself smiling. It was worrying how fond he is becoming of this mini disaster. Still, he was glad that he found this lil nephew of his.

As late as he was.

He sighed, gesturing toward the egg.

"Whose egg is this?"

Time to bullshit.

Naru's fingers moved without thought, he lowered his book and brushed his fingers on the egg.

The black egg hummed and moved as if reacting to it.

The dragon half blood chuckled.

"No one."

Not good enough.

Arms crossed, Goldie waited for him to continue.

Naru sighed dramatically, setting the book aside like it pained him to do so, resting it on his chest. He looked up, black eyes meeting gold.

"It's been with me for as long as I can remember. I kept it safe... from the bastards who thought they could lay their disgusting hands on me."

He smiled, poking the lil egg carefully to not roll off.

"It's not my sibling. But I chose to protect it anyway. I didn't want it to end up like me."

Eruhaben didn't speak. He just stared at Naru, his face unreadable.

Thoughtful? maybe. Mad? definitely.

Because the idea of another dragon—another child—subjected to the same cruelty, the same experiments, the same broken fate as Naru...

It made something terrible rise in his chest.

'I need to investigate.'

This can't be left untouched.

Naru watched Eruhaben go quiet and smirked to himself.

That meant his latest improvisation had worked.

He settled back with a satisfied sigh, fingers trailing gently over the egg's surface.

Truly, his skills at bullshitting was unmatched.

Of course, the peace lasted exactly twelve seconds.

The doors slammed open.

"NARU!"

The vampire was a mess—clothes wrinkled, hair undone, and overall unshiny.

Clearly something wrong had happened.

"Have you seen Callis?!"

Naru blinked slowly, confused.

"What?"

Eruhaben turned, golden eyes narrowing. "He's not with you?"

Fredo strode in, panicking. "No. But after lil highness fell asleep, White Star left him with me. Told me to keep an eye on him. I looked away for five minutes—five!—and when I turned back... he was gone."

Naru shot to his feet. "You lost him twice?!"

Eruhaben's expression was caught between concern and deep, deep judgment.

Fredo avoided making eye contact with him.

"I'll search the castle," Naru said, already outside. "He might still be inside, crawling through vents or something equally insane."

"He's five months old!" Fredo yelled after him.

"You say that like it means anything!"

The ancient dragon sighed and placed a hand on Fredo's shoulder. "Let's check his room. If the child has enough foresight to disappear, maybe he left a trail."

Fredo groaned but nodded, following as they made their way to it.

When Eruhaben stepped into Callis' room first, his senses went off.

Something was wrong.

He looked around and walked inside.

The room was quiet, the plushie untouched, the bed still slightly messy. But something kept bothering him.

He went straight to the crib and froze.

'Unlucky bastard.'

Just what kind of luck did he have to be taken by the literal devine?!

His senses never failed him. He knew what this was.

Callis hadn't wandered off on his own.

He had been taken.

Eruhaben turned toward Fredo, who was panicking like no other, gaze heavy. "Fredo, the child was kidnapped... By a god."

For a second, Fredo looked utterly blank.

Then he exploded.

"Fuck—!"

White Star isn't going to like this at all.

The sea was quiet.

Archie liked it that way—after a good round of training, the silence of the deep let his mind drift.

The waves rolled softly against his massive form as he cut through the water, content in the solitude the sea offered.

He was about to dive back down when something caught his eye—something small floating far off in the water.

"Ugh, if it's another stupid merchant dumping garbage, I swear I'd—" He swam closer, ready to punch a boat if needed, when his sharp eyes narrowed.

It wasn't garbage.

It was a kid.

A baby.

Red hair spread a across the water. Pale skin. Tiny form drifting in the current.

Archie's eyes widened. His whole body went still for a second.

"What the—?!"

He shot forward, transforming mid-surge with a splash that would terrify a normal person, and swam until he reached the child. He scooped the boy up, dripping and unconscious, small in his arms.

The kid was breathing, but he was wet, cold. Too cold.

Archie's jaw tightened.

"The hell?! Who the fuck just leaves a kid like this?!" he cursed, glaring at the empty sea like it owed him an explanation. "What kind of absolute lunatic—"

If he found the bastard who did this, they'd be tasting the seafloor with their face.

But then, Archie looked down, stared down at the child, holding him a little tighter.

The baby was soaked, lips slightly parted in sleep, lashes trembling against pale cheeks. Red hair fanned over the whale's arm, soaked but still vibrant.

Honestly, he never seen anyone as beautiful as him.

"...Tch."

He scowled, gently brushing wet bangs off the child’s forehead.

"You better not die, brat. If you die, I'm gonna be pissed."

With one last look at the horizon, Archie turned toward shore.

"Hope you’re not one of those annoying kids who whines a lot. I've already got enough headaches."

He held the boy gently, his usually sharp tone softening as if talking to an unconscious baby will make things turn better.

"You'll be fine. I got you."

Chapter Text

The God of Death had a simple plan.

Fix the mistakes that wasn't supposed to happen. Take Cale Henituse to where he is supposed to be and fulfill the annoying deal he had with him.

Originally, he had planned to switch the two souls—let Kim Rok Soo take Cale's place entirely. But after what  the Single Lifer did, that option was no longer safe.

So instead, with a little help from the God of Balance—a favor he didn't enjoy asking for—he gave both a new start.

Cale Henituse a chance of regression, and Kim Rok Soo to a different world all over. Not as Cale, but as his twin brother.

It was the best compromise he could come up with under the circumstances. And surprisingly, everything smoothly fell into place.

Cale's soul stabilized. Kim Rok Soo's reincarnation..rebirth? went smoothly.

Everything was perfect.

That should've been the end of it.

Of course, he should've known better.

The moment he allowed himself to stop keeping an eye on them, the moment he thought things were finally safe—Disaster struck.

Balance had warned him, this change will came with consequences. That events would shift. That not everything would follow the path it once did.

He had accepted that as long as fate still took place.

But he hadn't expected the Thames family of all people to be the source of disruption.

They, the Thames, valued family and guarded them. Weren't strangers with time and fate, reincarnators or others.

It was the reason he chose them. Kim Rok Soo would be safe among them.

Especially since his original vessel was already taken by someone else.

He knew...no, he thought that he'll be in good hands.

Instead, Jour—a descendant of that very line— the mother that loved her son till the very end, looked at her second born child and held no love towards him.

She decided to abandon him.

Just like that.

The moment she made that choice, her time of death had changed and was sealed by her own hand.

He could do nothing to stop it.

And he won't.

But what followed was beyond what he anticipated.

Kim Rok Soo—Callis—ended up in the hands of the White Star.

The one he had cursed.

The God of Death lost it.

It was the worst case scenario. It shouldn't even be possible in the first place!! How could he be stolen by the very person who should never have laid hands on him?!

He had to fix it.

But he couldn't interfere, not yet. He couldn't just swoop in and snatch the child back. Not without risking worse consequences. So he waited.

Five months, one week and three days.

That's exactly how long he waited.

The moment no one was with the kid, where WS couldn't sense him, not even the ancient dragon—who GoD still couldn't get over the fact that he's there willingly— could notice it.

It only took a second.

Callis was away from that place. On his way back to his family where he should've been in the first place.

But, of course, nothing ever went the way he wanted.

Someone else had interfered.

And just like that—

He lost him.

He didn't know where he had sent him. Didn't know who had forced his hand. All he knew was that the child was gone again.

And it was all his fault.

He buried his face in his hands. "The Soos are going to kill me."

The God of Death felt his death was near.

Callis woke up with a dull ache.

It wasn't painful, just irritating. He sniffled a little, frowning.

He was cold.

Not freezing, just... not comfy. Which was weird, because he clearly remembered being wrapped up in the softest blankets the palace could offer.

His uncle made sure of it.

That was the first red flag.

He reached out, sleepy, hand searching instinctively to the side—only to find empty space.

His fingers curled.

No turtle plushie.

That was the second red flag.

It wasn't that he was THAT attached to it, maybe... well it did contain all his fortune.

But it also had extra blankets and few necessities that his father had set himself after the last situation.

....and it's not like he liked it because it reminded him of his brother.

Always by his side.

That went unsaid, no use thinking about it.

His eyes opened, and instead of the soft golden ceiling he was starting to get fond of, he was met with a pristine white one.

Callis sat up with a wobble, tiny fingers gripping the edge of the blanket for support.

He looked around, and sure enough, it wasn't his room.

Or any of the rooms in le palace that he knew of.

Callis sighed quietly, cheek buffed as he checked again and made sure none of his possessions were with him.

Nothing.

Great.

He layed back down with a tiny flop, pulling the blanket over his face like it could shield him from whatever nonsense this was.

After some time, Callis huffed softly. Pulled the blanket tighter around himself now that he made peace with his current situation.

At least whoever kidnapped him had the decency to give him more than just an empty box to sleep in.

A small blanket, some toys, even a soft little pillow. It wasn't much, but it wasn't a dungeon either.

Who would put a baby in a dungeon anyway?

So, in other words, he'll survive.

While he snuggled deeper into the blue blanket, trying to trap what little warmth he could, he heard the creak of the door opening.

His eyes peeked out over the edge of the blanket.

A tall man stepped inside. White hair, broad shoulders, A scar covered his face, and most notably, completely bare chested.

His gaze lazily trailing down from the wild white hair to the very defined chest muscles on display.

Naturally, Callis' eyes zeroed in on the muscles.

Priorities.

He studied the chest carefully—objectively, of course. It was part of survival! Gotta know thy enemy after all.

The redhead nodded slightly to himself, mentally adding the possible kidnapper to the muscle rank list.

Callis, still wrapped up like a little burrito, automatically placed the stranger in his chosen rank.

'Father is still first', obviously. White Star's physique was basically a sculpted masterpiece in his eyes.

And of course, Callis likes how warm and safe he is.

Second place? Eruhaben. Golden, elegant and the visuals are always a treat to le eyes.

Plus, as much as Callis wants the dragon to stay away, he had to agree with le fact that Eruhaben is a walking piggy bank and a possible future ally.

For slacker life, our redhead will do anything.

Plus, he's Naru's uncle so it shouldn't be much trouble to have him around.

And now… this guy.

Callis blinked slowly at the man still grumbling under his breath and aggressively peeling fruit like it had personally offended him.

He sighed.

Probably third place, tied with Fredo if anything.

His uncle was handsome. Callis would never deny that. His features were aristocratic and being a vampire simply added to the charm.

He rarely seen his bare muscles but he knows how solid they were from the times Fredo was allowed to hold him.

The vampire is strong, sure. But if Callis was being honest— he had seen his father turn him into nothing in a matter of seconds.

Not to mention that Eruhaben, as a dragon, has full advantages on him in  a fight.

So based on visuals and strength alone, both are at the top.

Which is why Fredo is in third place, and the kidnapper could be a possible rival.

Which is why they are tied.

Still, not bad.

Not bad at all.

Callis' thoughts halted when their eyes met.

They stared at each other.

Archie blinked.

Callis blinked back.

A long silence.

"...You're awake," the man spoke awkwardly. He straightened up and walked towards the bed.

Callis narrowed his eyes slightly as he got close, standing Infront of him.

"Tch… skin's too pale," he grumbled, squinting at him. "You better not be freezing to death, little fishcake."

Callis wasn't quite sure what a fishcake was, but he was almost certain he'd been insulted.

Then, without warning, a large hand reached down and pressed against his forehead. Callis felt dazed by it and Archie clicked his tongue again.

"Cold," he muttered, then cursed under his breath. "Damn it. Knew I should've wrapped you more."

Callis blinked up at him, too confused and cold to react, but quietly stunned at how warm the man's palm was.

"What were you doing in the middle of nowhere?" The man asked, taking the redhead's hand to check.

Callis gave him a blank stare.

Archie snorted.

"Yeah, no. Witira must be out of her mind. You can't be human."

'How could he be one when his looks rivals us.' Archie was dead set on that.

Callis didn't respond.

His thoughts were spiraling.

'Witira?'

There was only one person he knew of that name. The current Whale King's daughter and the future Queen of the Whales.

The Whale that was at the vanguard alongside Choi Han and crew in the battle against the mermaids.

He looked up and made contact with the greyish blue eyes of the man.

The man, for some reason, looked away.

'...Archie?'

He had to double take. Now that he clearly looked at him, he quite fit the description the author had in the novel.

The Killer Whale with white hair. This man was the greatest warrior of the Whale Tribe and had an important role in the Whale Tribe arc in the novel.

Archie, the one who beat Lock up in the novel, and he was someone who was violent with a bad personality.

'Violent with a bad personality huh.'

Callis looked at the man who carefully tucked him in more blankets which made the cold less annoying.

He stared confused as Archie? turned around, grabbed a random fruit from the pile… and crushed it.

"Should be Soft enough now, right? Babies got no teeth… stupid tiny mouths…"

He muttered the whole time, crushing fruit over and over again.

Callis blinked slowly from inside his blanket burrito.

'... Voilent ?'

Callis wondered if he was mistaken. Then again...

SPLAT.

Juice exploded out like a crime scene.

Callis blinked.

While Callis was munching on the now not so messy plate of crushed fruits—surprisingly tasty, not that he'd admit it out loud—the door creaked open again.

Tap. Tap.

In walked a woman with her heels clicking along which gained the two's attention.

Callis looked at the door and was surprised at that moment.

'Beautiful'

She was so extremely beautiful that she would make even Fredo look plain next to her. It was to the point that Callis wondered how someone could be so beautiful.

Blue hair and blue eyes. If there was a contest for the most beautiful woman in existence, it would probably be the person in front of him right now.

He quickly thought through the contents of, 'The Birth of a Hero' and there was only one character that matched.

Witira.

"Noona, wait up!"

The man, who Callis could only presume to be Paseton, stumbled in right after. Holding bags upon bags that basically covered his face.

Callis blinked.

Archie scowled, clearly annoyed.

"What are you two doing here?"

Paseton tripped instantly, one bag slipping off his shoulder and hitting him in the face before he caught it with a panicked yelp.

Witira gave him a brief glance, sighed softly, then turned her attention to the bundle on the bed. Her expression softened instantly.

"Oh my," she murmured, stepping forward. "Look at you."

Callis has a bad feeling about this and wanted to go home.

"He's so precious!"

'She's too bright!'

Witira knelt beside the bed, graceful and glowing. This long haired woman really lived up to the stories about how the Whales were so beautiful that they made elves look like squids.

Such a beautiful being was looking at Callis.

"You poor thing," she whispered, reaching out to check his temperature. "Your little hands are so cold—Paseton, warming stone!"

Already halfway through unpacking the absurd amount of bags, Paseton gave a sharp, "Yes, noona!" and pulled out something that steamed softly in his gloved hands.

Archie crossed his arms, standing stiffly at the foot of the bed. "He was perfectly fine before you got here."

Witira didn't even glance his way. "His cheeks are chilled and rosy. And his fingers are like icicles."

"They're not!" Archie huffed.

"He's underdressed."

"He's got three blankets!"

Witira gently placed a fuzzy blue beanie with a whale embroidered on the front over Callis' head. "Now he has four. Honestly, how have you managed to keep him alive like this?"

Archie huffed.

Witira pulled back slightly to admire her work.

Paseton quietly set a lined basket beside the bed and began pulling out absurdly tiny mittens, glass jars of moisturizers, two plush towels, and a brush that looked like it was carved from pearl.

Archie's eye twitched. "That's excessive."

"Essentials," Paseton murmured.

"We don't need this junk," Archie snapped. "He was fine. I was doing fine."

"I'm sure you were," Witira smiled, not listening in the slightest as she began applying some sort of lotion to the baby's cheeks with careful dabs of her fingertip.

"Poor thing. Rough skin from all that wind. You must've been so uncomfortable."

Callis looked up at her.

She smiled at him.

He started questioning his reality.

There was no way the whales kidnapped him, they do not meddle with the land after all.

'Was it one of father's enemies?'

Quite possible, he's a prince in this life after all. It was bound to happen at some point.

But how did he end up here?

Witira cooed as she finished brushing Callis' hair. "Doesn't he look much better now?"

Archie's eye twitched, but otherwise said nothing.

Paseton, who was now busy adjusting the small warming stone around Callis' blanket, nodded in agreement with his sister. "Yeah, he—"

The half blood blinked and then gave a small, flustered smile, his face turning slightly pink. "He's...really cute."

Witira beamed.

Callis made a face.

He suddenly missed Fredo.

Chapter Text

It had been almost six months.

And yet nothing much had changed in the Henituse estate. The nursery still had two cribs.

One remained untouched.

Servants no longer stepped foot into the nursery unless commanded. Maids did their duties perfectly, cleaned everything but still... The toys, the blanket, the clothes—all were kept in perfect condition, just as they had been the day Callis disappeared.

'Abandoned.'

Deruth reminded himself.

He sat by the fire, though it was too warm for one. His hands, gently held a small knitted mittens. Silver and black. One he personally perched for Callis the day he was born.

It had been too big for him back then, and now it would be far too small.

He didn't cry. He hadn't in a while... The tears had dried out somewhere between the third fruitless expedition and the fourth vague rumor that led nowhere. But the ache in his chest had only grown heavier.

The pain of losing a child was never easy.

His aides had stopped bringing him false leads. They meant well, but their pity clung to their words like rot. He didn't want reassurances. He didn't want anyone to tell him "perhaps it's time to let go."

They didn't understand.

He didn't need proof to believe his son was still out there, alive. He was a father.

To him, Callis had been unexpected, in more ways than one. Deruth hadn't known he would have a second son, let alone one so… beautiful.

His baby was a blessing from the gods.

One that he loved with all his heart.

His fingers curled against the wood of the crib, gripping it tightly, steadying himself with a breath.

Everyone had stopped mentioning his name.

But that doesn't mean he'll be forgotten.

Deruth returned the mittens back in the drawer, where he kept Callis' things. He went to Cale's side, who slept peacefully in his crib.

The young redhead was holding the plushie he had come to love and rarely left his side, cheeks puffed, lips parted slightly.

Deruth's expression softened.

Quietly, he knelt by the crib. He brushed Cale's hair gently, his hand then found their way over the baby's lil fingers, but settled nearby on the mattress.

Close enough to not wake him up.

"I know you miss him," he whispered. "I miss him too."

He stayed there for a while, just listening to his son breathe. His fingers eventually drifted from the mattress to the edge of the crip.

"I'll find him, Cale," he promised, "No matter where he is, no matter how far… I'll bring your brother home."

His son was out there. Somewhere.

He just has to find him.

Sayeru walked behind White Star, his voice low but filled with disapproval.

"The cat tribe are getting out of hand. One of the bases was bombed due to their negligence and two alchemists were injured."

White Star didn't respond. He simply walked on, his pace steady as ever as he made his way back towards his son's room.

Sayeru's mouth twitched, but knew better than to comment on his liege's silence. He continued, "they are a bunch of idiots, and should be punished for their stupidity. How should we handle it?"

"They're ours," White Star said, after some thought. "They spilled our blood. We'll spill theirs."

Sayeru smiled faintly. "As you wish."

They walked in silence after that, only the quiet clicks of their boots accompanying them.

Then, just as they reached the door, White Star stopped.

His head tilted slightly, sensing an aura he should be very familiar with and shouldn't be here.

Something was off.

His eyes narrowed.

Seeing his liege's action, Sayeru's fingers twitched toward the hilt of his weapon, gaze scanning the corridor.

He didn't sense an enemy, but he'd learned to trust White Star's instincts. If his liege felt something was wrong—something was definitely wrong.

White Star pushed the door open.

Inside, Fredo looked up. His face went pale the instant their eyes met.

White Star's gaze went past him.

To the crib.

Empty.

The moment his eyes landed on the empty crib, White Star's mind went blank.

His heart was beating nonestop.

Once realization came, nothing but rage filled his thoughts.

Fredo didn't make a sound. He couldn't. His lips parted, but not even a breath escaped.

Sayeru tensed beside him, fell to his knees as he tried to breathe.

The only man who wasn't affected looked... thoughtful at the redhead.

Eruhaben had kept an eye on him the moment he first pointed his sword that day.

The only human that interested him as much as the child he found lost in snow.

A human, who somehow had many fateful encounters and gathered many ancient powers. Something that only by the Mandate of Heaven could be required.

And somehow still alive...

The same human, who right now felt as strong as the tip of his wing and was growing more and more by the second.

'A Dragon Slayer.'

The pressure alone was proof.

It was the only explanation for the power that was coming from the young man, something that could rival his own Dragon Fear.

A power was only passed down through the Dragon slayer's family bloodline.

'The last successor was believed to have disappeared, ending the line with him.'

To think that the ancient dragon found not just find one, but another, who was still a child.

'They must've continued their family in this kingdom and stayed hidden from the outside world.'

But what for?

Eruhaben shook his head, now was not the time.

He must stop this man from making rash decisions and of course affect the others. The golden dragon felt too old for this.

His eyes ventured towards the man who came with the redhead but only briefly.

Eruhaben's eyes shined as he used his own Dragon Fear to turn White Star's attention to him.

White Star's eyes snapped to him.

Their gazes locked.

"Your child is fine," he said, trying to assure him. "He was simply taken by—"

"Death."

Eruhaben paused.

His eyes fixed toward White Star, trying to read something—anything—from his face. But the man looked blank.

Yet, the look in his eyes forced the dragon to believe that he knew exactly what his word meant.

'Death?'

But that made no sense.

Why would the God of Death take a child?

'Unlucky kid.'

Eruhaben truly believed that the child was bound to some crazy crazy luck.

As the handsome looking elf stood lost in his own thoughts, the suffocating pressure in the room faded. Fredo let out a shaky breath. Sayeru gasped quietly and fell back onto his heels, breathing heavily.

White Star slowly walked toward the crib, then simply stood there.

Staring down at the empty space where his son should've been.

Exactly where he left him.

But that bastard took him away.

The blanket had been kicked aside, one corner bunched up like it always was. That small wrinkle showed the exact spot where the child usually slept—curled up like a kitten, warm and soft, barely big enough to fill the space.

The bed was still faintly warm.

But it was empty.

Gone.

His hand moved—slow, like he wasn't even aware of it—and reached into the crib.

There, nestled between the folds of the blanket, was a small red turtle plushie. The toy his son never parted with.

It held all of the treasure he had gifted him in it.

It was the only thing his Callis would never trade for anything else.

'I'll make him pay for what he's done.'

Fredo had stepped up beside him at some point, the blood slowly returning to his face. His hands trembled at his sides, but White Star paid him no mind.

Instead, he reached out and held the plushie gently with both hands and stared at it, thumb brushing over the edge of its back.

Fredo moved, he reached out, hand aiming for White Star's shoulder, almost touching it.

But before he could, White Star turned around, still holding the toy.

And walked straight out of the room without a word.

Sayeru blinked, confused, but quickly followed after him.

Fredo remained behind, his hand still in the air. Frozen.

After a moment, he let it drop. Then clenched it tightly into a fist.

But it didn't stop shaking.

It had been a week.

A whole seven days since he found himself amongst the whale tribe.

Honestly, it wasn't so bad.

And the cold didn't bother him that much. Maybe it was the ridiculous amount of soft, fluffy clothes Whitra had forced him to wear.

But over all, it's cool.

Currently, he's outside. The siblings had basically forced Archie to let him play outside.

The Whale Village was very quiet.

Although the ice houses were shining brightly in the sun, the architecture itself was simple and the sizes were average.

He ignored the whales and penguins in the distance.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Callis stared blankly at a chunk of ice and snow in front of him. He poked it once. It didn't move. He poked it again. Still nothing.

He sighed.

Wasn't like he had anything better to do.

"Baby, would you like some snacks?" a soft voice cooed from behind him.

Callis didn't move. He merely blinked and decided it was best to make something out of the snow.

"I think he's cold," whispered another. "Tiny dragon, are you cold?"

Callis let out a long sigh and rested his cheek against his arm. No. He wasn't cold.

And for the sake of his sanity, he decided to ignore them.

A lot of the kids here—whale and penguin alike—had somehow gotten it into their heads that he wasn't a human baby.

No, apparently, he was a dragon hatchling.

Reason? He's too beautiful to be anything other than that.

And the adults decided not to correct it, maybe because they somewhat believed it.

After all, if a dragon wanted to hide themselves, no one could detect them.

The penguins believed that much, and were especially obsessed.

One had even offered him a fish as tribute.

"Tsk. Get away from him," Archie snapped from a distance, arms crossed as he glared at the crowd of excited kids huddling around the redhead.

A few of the younger ones flinched, scattering like startled chicks. The older ones just giggled and backed off slightly. Still too close for his taste.

Archie clicked his tongue.

Paseton, standing a few steps behind Archie with a pack of warm snacks in hand, tilted his head. "They really like him, huh?"

his eyes landed on Callis curled up in the snow like a bored cat, his face blank and his hands lazily patting down the snow.

'Cute.' Paseton thought before quickly turning his head, the tips of his ears reddening.

"They should back off," Archie muttered.

"I think it's sweet," Witira added as she brushed snow off her coat. "He's popular."

"He's mine," Archie blurted before immediately correcting himself. "I mean—I'm watching him. So they can look from there." He gestured to a random far away location.

Witira chuckled and walked over to the kids, crouched beside one, and handed them a bun. "Keep your distance, alright? He doesn't like being crowded."

The kids obediently stepped back.

Witira looked toward the redhead. "He looks better now."

Paseton gave a quiet nod. "Mm."

Archie’s arms were crossed, jaw tight. "He looked fine before."

The siblings shook their heads, quite used to Archie's reaction by now.

Callis, now lying on his back, slowly blinked up at the sky. The clouds were thin today, barely covering the sun.

His cheeks were a bit flushed from the cold, his legs warm under the layers of fabric Witira had practically buried him in.

Soon, every sound surrounding him turned into background noises.

His fingers dragged lazily through the snow as he watched the clouds.

'It's been a week...'

Callis never stayed away from home for this long, he's feeling a bit worried.

He missed them.

A lot.

'Are they even looking for me?'

He knew his father must be. He'd be blind and an idiot to think otherwise.

His father loved him.

Naru too, he'll be a mess for sure.

Uncle Fredo was possibly with his father. Callis was last with him after all and with his uncle's history, it's best to say the poor man was being scolded.

'Maybe hanged upside down like last time?'

Callis sighed.

Maybe he should stop thinking about them...and focus on his current situation right now.

Maybe it's not so bad living here for a while.

But...

He remembered how everyone had been treating him all week, which wasn't so bad and everyone was nice.

But all he heard from them was...

'Baby.' 'Young hatchling.' ' Esteemed dragon.'

'Fishcake.'

And for a whole week, he never heard his own name.

Which wasn't a problem, he couldn't fault them for not knowing it, it was expected after all.

But he got so used to hearing his name at least once a day, especially from his father, that he forgot that now...

He was nothing but a nameless, weak child to them.

Still...

His record flashed with memories, dragged him back to the very beginning.

His first week in this world.

He remembered how no one named him.

Not a single soul had said his name, not even the vessel that held him for nine months, because no one bothered enough to name him.

Not until later.

Not until he found him.

And now—again—he was forced to live that life again.

To be a nameless child, even after finally being named.

He originally thought that names didn't matter much, he had lived a much harsher life after all.

Names weren't supposed to matter anymore.

But now after he had finally tasted the love of a parent, enjoying the way his name was said by the people who cared for him, and if they never actually find him...

A single tear slipped down his cheek. Callis looked at the sky in silence.

He wanted to go home.

The sky burned red.

Ash rained down like snow.

Screams echoed across the ruined temple grounds, bodies scattered all over the place.

White Star stood in the center of it all, surrounded by rubble as well as blood—not his—dripped from the edge of his fingers, hot and thick.

The screams soon, were starting to die down.

The last of the temples belonging to the God of Death had been fallen to pieces by his hands.

But it didn't feel like a victory.

It didn't feel like anything.

A priest crawled toward him, robes soaked in red. His voice was hoarse, trembling. "P-please… what have we done to you?… our god—"

He didn't let the man finish.

His foot came down, crushing the priest's throat and snap, the man twitched once—then went still.

White Star stared at the body for a moment, unmoved. There was no emotion in his eyes.

Seven days.

Seven days, and every temple devoted to GoD in the eastern continent had been reduced to ash.

He hadn't left survivors, nor priests, not even the believers of that bastard alive.

And still, there was no sign of his son.

He looked back toward the ruins, hand in his chest pocket where the red plushie was kept.

Ready to be returned once its owner appears.

Meanwhile, Fredo was in his room, alone.

He hadn't left in days.

Every lead had turned up empty. Every informant came back with nothing. He had sent his agents, every last vampire under his command and everyone he sent out returned with the same answer, nothing.

No sign of the prince.

He buried his face in one hand, the other holding an empty glass of wine.

It was all his fault.

Even his son, Naru returned empty handed. He decided to search with the ancient dragon and hopefully find more clues.

But what does it matter now?

It's had been a whole week, lil highness is only few months old and couldn't possibly survive wherever he was alone.

Fredo hopes that the bastard kept him safe.

"I should've done more," he muttered to himself, voice hoarse. "I should've…"

The door creaked open with a soft thump.

His head barely turned.

A woman, wearing an old grey robe walked in. Her cheeks were full and rosy as she smiled and greeted him after closing the door behind her.

She was Cotton, Deputy Chief Priest and His ally. One of the very few he trusted.

She scares him sometimes but honestly? She's like a sister to him.

"I have come with news" she declared, arms crossed over her chest. "So please stop acting so depressed. It's unbecoming of you"

Fredo blinked slowly, dryly. "You barged in here... to insult me?"

She rolled her eyes and went to his side in a matter of seconds. Ignoring his tone.

"You look awful."

Fredo didn't comment.

Cotton softened just a little. "You had me worried, I've heard the news and guess what."

Her voice lowered, now more of a whisper. "I had a long chat with him and think you'll want to hear it."

That got the vampire's attention.

Cotton smiled.

"The young prince shall return, as long as you stop your liege from destroying more of Death's temples."

Fredo's eyes widened as she chuckled.

"What are you waiting for? You can't possibly want me to go out there do you?" Fixing few of his messy hair strands, she locked eyes with her brother in all but blood.

"It's not your fault, so don't blame yourself."

Fredo's hand twitched.

She smiled again.

"So stop sulking and go."

Fredo vanished in an instant and Cotton collapsed onto the floor, shoulder shaking through her giggles.

Fredo was always so dramatic.

"Haa, this idiot will be the death of me." She stood up after a while and dusted her clothes.

"Now, should I check for survivors?"

Honestly, Cotton could already feel the God of War nagging in her head.

But what could she do?

Fredo was a priority after all.

Chapter Text

"I heard you picked up a child," Shickler said, arms crossed, watching Archie throw punches into the wind.

Archie didn't look up. Water dripped from his bare arms.

"Thought you'd hear eventually."

Shickler stepped onto the rocky shore, his boots crunching against the gravel. "Witira was very happy in fact. I haven't seen her that excited since she first learned to wield her weapon."

Archie muttered something under his breath and slammed a kick into the sand.

The king looked fondly at him.

"Have you named him yet?"

"You think I'm an idiot?" Archie met his mentor's eyes. "... I've already chose a name for him."

Looking at the young man shifting awkwardly, shickler couldn't help but tease him a bit.

"Mm-hmm," Shickler chuckled, pleased and decided it was the right moment to drop le bomb. "And when do I get to meet my grandson?"

Archie choked on air. "Wh—what?!"

"I think I've earned that right," Shickler said smoothly, like he wasn't enjoying his reaction.

Teasing Archie was always fun after all.

"You raise a child under my roof, it makes him family. So, Grandson."

"Stop saying that old man!" Archie barked, ears turning pink. "He's not—! I didn't—!"

Shickler laughed and decided to stop before breaking the young man. His tone softened "Bring him to me, Archie."

Archie looked away. "...He's sleeping."

"I'll wait."

Archie grumbled something unintelligible under his breath.

The king smiled.

He can't wait to meet his grandson.

Our Callis opened his lovely eyes slowly and blessed the world with his presence.

Light filtered in through the curtains, soft and golden. It wasn't bright enough to hurt, but it was still annoying.

For a few seconds, he just blinked at the ceiling, letting his vision adjust.

He didn't move.

He always gave himself a few moments after waking up. It was a new routine he had developed.

Usually he'll just hug his comrade or his plushie, but none were with him right now.

There was no weight beside him.

Callis reached out, half expecting to brush against one of them. His fingers only touched the blanket.

Again, nothing.

He let his hand drop and stared at the ceiling again.

'... It's been ten days.'

Ten days since he had been taken here. Ten days since he was stuck with the whales. Ten days and he's still far away from home.

Ten days, Since he'd last heard his father's heartbeat.

That thought came fast and left before he processed it.

Callis blinked again.

The silence was too loud.

It made him remember things he didn't want to think about.

' Haaa .'

His brain was definitely messing with his emotions. Callis felt quite annoyed and decided to find whoever took him away from his family in the future and scam them for all eternity.

He closed his eyes again for a second, calming his raging thoughts then forced himself to sit up.

The bed dipped under him slightly, it was quite comfy. Callis expected nothing less after all.

His small body wobbled a bit, but he sat properly in the bed that Witira had made. Paseton added an extra pillow last night when he thought Callis was asleep which came in handy right now.

He hadn't fallen once cause of it.

It was nice.

Still wasn't his bed.

But he has no say in the Matter.

He sat there in silence, staring out the window. The ocean breeze brought the scent of salt and something sweet, probably Archie or the siblings making something.

The whale siblings were gentle with him and surprisingly, Archie took good care of him.

Callis appreciated that.

Also, with how their personalities didn't quite match the novel's, our protagonist decided not to overly trust it much. The Author was probably, no. Most definitely blind and had no brain cells or totally picking favourites while writing it.

....Though visual descriptions were a ten out of ten, even Callis had to agree with it.

Anyway, with so many things going on, our callis already made up his mind.

If he couldn't return home… then he'd go find it.

Even if it took him years. Even if he had to drag himself across continents. He'd find it eventually.

It wouldn't be easy. He was a baby. His body was weak. He couldn’t even walk yet. But none of that mattered.

He won't lose his family a second time.

... of course, while also making sure to stay away from the protagonist.

Callis sighed and rubbed his eyes,  tilted his head toward the door.

'I should probably eat something first.'

Yeah, it's going to be a long day.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Witira was humming as she busied herself with the small pots and bowls scattered across the counter.

The sunlight streaming through the window caught the soft shine of her blue hair, and every now and then, she paused to peek toward the nursery door, her face lighting up with a smile and focused on her task.

"…Paseton," she said gently, staring down at the pot in front of her with furrowed brows. "Is this supposed to look like this?"

Paseton turned around slowly. What he saw made him flinch.

It was a culinary disaster.

"…Noona," Paseton said cautiously, "what… did you put in it?"

Witira didn't hesitate. "Sweet potato, a banana, a dash of salt and just a lil bit of fish bones."

Paseton paled. "Fish bones?!"

"It's nutritious," she replied, still calm. "Babies need strength after all"

"That's not how this works." Paseton sighed and gently took the pot from her, holding it like it might explode.

He trashed it with the other failed attempts, silently mourning the last batch of mashed carrots that had… well, let's just say it had an identity crisis and came out looking like orange jellyfish.

His sister on the other hand already prepared the next patch. "I tried a new method this time," Witira said serenely, setting a pot down with a soft clink.

"Steamed pear, pumpkin, and a touch of cinnamon."

Paseton sniffed the pot cautiously. "It smells nice," he admitted, "but… did you blend it?"

Witira blinked. "Why would I blend it?"

Paseton looked horrified. "Noona… he doesn't have teeth."

A long pause.

"…Ah," Witira said, nodding slowly. She handed the pot to her brother to deal with.

She was never good at cooking anyway.

Paseton shuffled toward the counter and started dicing the ingredients into even smaller pieces before tossing it into the blender.

This was the twentieth time today in the span of two hours.

Poor Paseton wanted nothing but to kick his sister out of the kitchen but couldn't do anything about it.

She was trying after all.

He carefully spooned the blended puree into a small apple shaped bowl. Witira leaned over his shoulder and nodded approvingly.

"I think this will work."

They stood together, satisfied for a moment. Happy that they finally created a dish fit for our redhead.

Of course, the siblings quickly started to clean the kitchen afterwards. It was Archie's place after all.

They know better than to leave it messy.

Callis was in the middle of being fed by Witira and Paseton when Archie came in.

He was holding bags upon bags in his arms—enough to make anyone question whether he was moving in or supplying a small army.

Callis let out a tiny sigh through his nose and kept chewing. For the sake of his sanity, he decided to pretend he didn't exist.

He was more focused on the tasty stuff paseton gave him after all!

Archie didn't bother greeting anyone, just dumped the bags onto the nearest table with a heavy thud.

Witira, unfazed and pretty much used to it, offered a light comment without turning her head.

"Did you threaten the shopkeepers again?"

The whale snorted. "They were too slow." He cracked his neck, then looked over, his tone gruff but not unkind as his eyes darted to Callis.

"He eatin' properly?"

Paseton calmly took another spoonful of food for Callis and Witira smiled faintly at them. "As you can see."

Callis on the other hand narrowed his eyes at one particular bag that he suspected held a toy in it. He hoped that it was not be another stuffed animal.

It was a waste of money to buy things he won't use after all.

The redhead then felt a touch on his head. Looking up, his saw Archie's gaze fixed on him.

He was crouched down, rough hand surprisingly gentle as he patted Callis' head.

"You ready to meet someone special, kid?"

Callis blinked up at him, tilting his head.

'What? Who?'

Before he could question it, he saw Archie's expression shift so fast it barely made sense—eyes wide and his body stiff.

"...What the—"

Callis felt a pull, then everything turned black.

Meanwhile, somewhere in the Endable Kingdom.

The castle, usually full of life ever since our main character was brought to it, was now dark and empty.

Lifeless if anything.

Deep below, in the dungeons, Naru stood beside Fredo. They were both staring silently at the chained group of God of Death followers that White Star had taken hostage.

The same people who followed the bastard that took him from them.

"Father." Naru spoke, looking up at the man who was always glamorous and had a smile on his face at all times—was barely keeping himself together now.

The man who meant everything to him.

Fredo didn't answer immediately. He simply placed a steadying hand on Naru's head, thumb brushing the boy's temple.

"It's been too long," Naru whispered. "Shouldn't we just kill them already?"

Fredo's purple eyes never left the prisoners. "That bastard said to wait until midnight. If nothing happens by then…"

Naru clenched his fists. It had taken everything to convince White Star not to slaughter every last one of them just because of the single hope that Callis will be returned to them if they were kept alive.

The dragon half blood felt it was stupid to trust the words of the thing that stole their treasure in the first place.

But what else could they do?

They'll only have to wait after all...

Naru could wait.

He already waited for so long after all.

Naru felt his father's fingers lightly brushing through his hair as the chained followers were screaming, begging, crying to be let out.

He focused on his touch, it soothed him if anything.

While he quietly leaned into the vampire's touch, the dark dungeon was suddenly lit by a bright light appearing out of nowhere

Fredo's hand froze.

Naru looked up, startled, and just as a flicker of light died down, something appeared above them.

Or rather—someone.

High above them, right in the middle of the dungeon ceiling, a small figure blinked into existence—several feet in the air, suspended for a second too long to make sense.

Time seemed to stretch.

Naru's eyes widened recognizing him immediately. "Wait. Is that—?"

The boy barely had time to register when gravity kicked in.

He started to fall.

"CALLIS—!"

Fredo moved in a blink of an eye, he was no longer at Naru's side. Standing right beneath to break the fall, arms reaching up just in time.

Thud.

Fredo caught him.

Silence fell again. Even the prisoners were quiet.

Callis was still frozen in place, held tightly against Fredo's chest, his eyes wide and blinking slowly as if still processing what the hell just happened.

Fredo caught him cleanly, arms wrapped securely around the small body dressed in soft blue.

Callis eyes soon locked onto Fredo's.

Fredo didn't look away either.

He held him firmly, almost too tightly, as if afraid the boy might vanish again if he loosened his grip even a little.

Naru was already at their side, kneeling close next to his father, his hands twitching at his sides, unsure whether to touch the boy or not.

Then—

A soft, broken sob.

It came from Callis.

His lips trembled slightly, then parted again with another quiet sound. His small hands clutched at Fredo's shirt, blue sleeves wrinkling as his body finally reacted.

Tears welled up and spilled fast, hot and silent, as his chest hitched.

Fredo didn't say anything. He only pressed Callis closer, gently tucking his head against his chest.

No one spoke, just stayed there comforting him.

Callis didn't understand what had just happened or how he was suddenly held in his uncle's arms.

But If this was a dream, he doesn't want to wake up.

He's finally where he belonged.

Chapter Text

[ Le Diary of a Side Character, Castle Attendant - Endable Kingdom ]

Day One,

Dear Diary,,

I GOT THE JOB!! I officially work in the royal castle like I always wanted!!

Okay, yes, people say it's cursed, and yes, my aunt tried to chain me to a cow to stop me from coming here—she's very dramatic—but! The pay is so good I could cry. And the uniforms? I never want to take it off for all eternity.

Everyone said I'd die. I might. But you know what? The pay makes it worth it not to mention the free food.

Honestly, I think it'll be shiny.

...

Day Four,

Dear Diary,,

Okay. Working here is... um... a little crazy crazy.

I almost tripped over a bloodstain this morning, and when I pointed it out, the senior butler just said, "Don't worry. That's from last week."

Should I be worried that no one cleans blood anymore because "it'll just be back tomorrow"?

Also, His Excellency passed by. I didn't look directly at him—rule four: do not make eye contact unless you want your insides turned into soup—Still said good morning though. It came out like muhghfhmgornin but I tried.

Lunch tasted so good today.

...

Day Seven,

Dear diary,,

I CAN'T BREATHE I CAN'T THINK I CAN'T DO ANYTHING BUT SCREAM—INTERNALLY OF COURSE BECAUSE I VALUE MY LIFE—BUT OMGGGGGGGGGGG

HIS EXCELLENCY HAS A BABY!!!!!!!

Okai I need to chill for a second but OMG?!

I saw him.

I wasn't even supposed to be on that floor. I was just passing through —totally by accident with a mop I didn't need —and the door to the nursery wasn't all the way closed.

So I peeked. Just a peek!!

AND. I. SAW. HIM.

HE LOOKS JUST LIKE HIS EXCELLENCY.

He has His Excellency's hair. His Excellency's eyes. His Excellency's everything! But like...baby version.

I really love this job.

Let it be known I will live and die for his highness.

...

Day Twenty,

Dear Diary,,

So I didn't see the baby this time. BUT!

I heard him.

He made this tiny sneeze sound from the other side of the door, and I swear to you, everyone in the hallway just froze and listened.

Of course, when we saw young master Naru come, we all immediately pretended like we didn't hear it and scurried away like proper professionals.

But oh my god, Diary, I think imma get a heart attack.

Also, someone started to put flowers in the vases again. Lilies I believe they are called. No one's been brave enough to do anything like that for years.

It's kind of pretty.

...

Day… uh… I lost count,

Dear Diary,,

OMG IT'S BEEN A WHILE.

I got super caught up with work and also kinda tripped down the east stairs again BUT THAT'S NOT IMPORTANT! Silly Diary of mine—you will NOT believe what happened.

THE PRINCE ALMOST DIED.

YES. HIS BABY ROYAL HIGHNESS.

Apparently—and I had NO idea—he's allergic to lilies. Like, REALLY allergic.

Girlies say someone brought in a bunch of fresh bouquet and no one thought twice because it looked pretty and matched the curtains.

Thankfully the prince is safe and Lord Fredo took over after that, as usual.  but Diary, I have NEVER seen His Excellency look like that.

And it made my heart ache.

....

I want vengeance.

Bestie told me they dragged all responsible for this straight to the dungeon.

I mean... look. I'm not saying I condone violence or anything but also...

THEY HURT THE BABY.

So like. Maybe if I just, accidentally, totally unintentionally, wandered down there and aggressively poked someone.

Anyway. Glad he's okay now. I'm not worried much since Duke Fredo is watching over him.

That man sees everything.

...

Day… I don't even know anymore.

Dear Diary,,

It's been ten days.

Ten days since our lil prince disappeared.

The castle… it's not the same anymore.

No one's been talking much. Even the bold ones are quiet now. Even bestie stopped humming, and she never stops humming.

I passed the hallway near the
Nursery room yesterday. His Excellency was standing alone at the far end, just… standing.

Holding a red plushie.

I may or may not ugly cried.

Lord Fredo hasn't left the lower floors, I think. Girlies say he doesn't sleep. Some say he hasn't eaten either.

At least young master Naru is with him.

Even the guest that may or may not became a resident here didn't look any better.

I'd say even his golden shine dimmed but I might just be imagining things.

Diary of mine, I miss him. We all do.

Bestie and I gathered everyone to pray for his highness' safety every night.

It's all we could do.

Also, why did I just see His Excellency running?

After crying his eyes out for what felt like an eternity—and no, no one was allowed to ever bring it up again—Callis slowly realized that the scene around him had changed.

Gone were the dark walls and instead, the golden ceiling that he knew and loved.

He blinked, bleary-eyed and puffy, as the ceiling became more an more brighter.

Ah.

'Naru must've teleported us.'

His small fingers curled slightly. He was still being held, still tucked securely against someone's chest.

Fredo.

The man hadn't moved. Eyes still a little too glossy, stared down at him like he might disappear again if he even blinked.

Callis could feel the tension in Fredo's arms, trembling just a little, but never letting go. He supposed he could've pulled away, wiggled free, but… he didn't want to.

He missed his uncle.

So, he simply rested there, his cheek against Fredo's shoulder, breathing slow.

'Warm.'

Naru's voice broke the silence, soft and amused as Callis always remembered it. "He looks exhausted," he said, reaching over to brush back Callis' hair.

"Who wouldn't be?," Fredo replied without looking up. His voice was lower than usual, raw in a way Callis wasn't used to hearing.

"He must've been frightened, alone and who knows what had happened to him."

Callis squinted at that and let out a huff.

'I wasn't alone! I had crazy whales taking care of me!! They were maniacs but at least I scammed them!!'

Was what Callis wanted to say, but all that came out were baby noises that were incoherent while looking offended.

That alone earned him a faint chuckle from Naru.

"Don't tease him," Naru said, a smile apparent on his face.

Callis looked toward him—at that version of Naru. The one with softer features, and an exact copy of Fredo.

He rarely looked like this in front of him and when he did, it sometimes felt like he was staring at Fredo's mini mirror image.

Which was… honestly very cute.

Callis thought, absently, that he couldn't judge. He liked the fact he resembled his own father too.

Maybe Naru just wanted to look like Fredo too, he could understand that.

Fredo, as if realising something, finally pulled back just enough to look at him fully. "You're not hurt?" he asked, his hand ghosting over Callis' arms, sides, checking carefully as if expecting bruises.

Or something much worse.

The redhead blinked slowly and shook his head. Just once.

Fredo breathed out.

"Good."

There was so much weight in that word it made Callis' chest tighten. Like Fredo had been holding his breath this whole time.

'Ah, he must've been worried.'

It had been ten days since they last saw each other so it's understandable.

He felt the vampire's hand brushed gently against his cheek, wiping away the lingering trail of tears with his thumb. His voice, when it came, was soft and weak.

"We were so worried…" he whispered, his brows drawn together, eyes locked on Callis' face.

"You have no idea how scared we were. Your father—he hasn't slept in days. And I…" his voice faltered, "I couldn't stop imagining the worst."

Callis stared back at him quietly.

Fredo let out a shaky breath, his lips twitching into the smallest of smiles.

"But you're safe," he whispered. "That's all that matters. You're safe."

Callis blinked slowly.

Well, that made him want to torment the bastard that caused this in the first place.

He never saw his uncle so... vulnerable.

Callis never wanted to vanish into thin air. Or to get dragged around like that.

Honestly, now it became personal.

And maybe...

His eyes followed the single tear his uncle had shed, more threatening to follow.

Maybe he should go easy on Fredo, just a bit. He deserved it.

Callis hummed softly and leaned in the tiniest bit closer, resting his head again on Fredo's shoulder.

Fredo paused. Then, slowly, he smiled. Patting the child's back.

From the corner of his eye, Callis saw Naru visibly relax, slumping back into a seat with a quiet exhale like he’d been holding it forever.

Everything was quiet now. Warm, even peaceful.

Except—

Callis' gaze drifted lazily towards the door.

'Where was—'

SLAM.

The doors flew open with a bang that made both Naru and Fredo flinch.

White Star stood there, chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. His red hair clung to his face and shoulders, probably messy from running.

The thin black robe he wore—nearly see through in places—hung loosely from his frame.

Chest muscles on full display for all to see.

Which would've been very important any other day if not for the fact that Callis couldn't take his eyes from the man's face.

Red eyes searched, scanning the room until they landed on the small bundle in Fredo's arms.

Callis.

His son.

He could already feel the effect of the curse fading away, there was no mistaking it.

Fredo didn't move. Naru didn't speak.

Callis blinked from where he sat in Fredo's arms, one small fist curled against the older man's chest. His wide eyes locked onto the figure by the door. He recognized him instantly.

His father.

His heart skipped a beat.

'What the hell happened to him?'

White Star took a step forward, slowly walking until he stopped just a few steps away. His arm lifted, reaching out hesitantly, like the moment itself might slip through his fingers if he rushed.

Then—he stopped.

His eyes flicked down to his son's expression, and mistook it for fear.

His fingers trembled.

'Had he forgotten me?'

The book had warned him. Young children, especially ones so small, might forget faces, voices and even their own parents if they were separated.

Maybe Callis didn't know who he was right now.

In his eyes, he was nothing but a stranger.

His chest ached.

White Star's hands fell slightly. His shoulders dropped, just barely. He took one step back.

Callis blinked, his mind lagged for a moment, not understanding what just happened.

'Did… did he just step away from me?'

Callis frowned. The expression was brief, softened instantly by the roundness of his baby cheeks, but it was there. His body wiggled slightly, just enough to lean forward in Fredo's arms, lifting his lil hand toward the man who looked so lost.

"...Da..da?"

The word left his mouth before he could think, and everything just... Stopped.

White Star's eyes widened, freezing in place.

Then, in a heartbeat, Callis found himself swept into an embrace so tight it knocked the air from his lungs.

But he cared for none of that, for all he thought was the warmth locking him in place.

White Star held him as if letting go would kill him.

Callis didn't resist—he didn't have the heart to. He let himself be tucked into his father's chest, small fingers curling loosely on the robe.

The faint beat of a heart, steady beneath his cheek, reached his ears.

'Ah… there it is.'

That familiar rhythm.

O'how he missed it.

Callis closed his eyes, allowing himself to melt in his father's hold.

He's finally home.

Behind them, Fredo remained still, gaze soft. Naru watched quietly too, eyes flicking between them, the corner of his lips twitching upward when he saw the way Callis practically nestled into the embrace.

While our redhead was being lulled to sleep with how safe he felt, White Star shifted only slightly, just enough to press a gentle kiss into the soft hair at the top of his head.

His hand held the back of Callis' neck with care, thumb brushing over his now longer hair.

Then, barely above a whisper, his words fell into the child's ears only for him to hear.

"I missed you."

Callis didn't respond. Not really. Just gave a faint sigh, nuzzling in closer into the comfort of his home.

Safe in arms that wouldn't let him go.

He couldn't ask for more.

Chapter Text

The garden was lively with colour, a sea of red flowers swaying gently in the wind. It was beautiful and especially prepared by Deruth for his oldest son Cale who seemed to love the colour red more than anything.

Normally, one would simply stare at those flowers and be lost in their beauty but Deruth's attention wasn't on the roses or the tulips.

It was on his son.

Cale's small hands were gripping Beacrox's tightly, his chubby legs wobbling with every step forward. His red hair caught the sunlight as he toddled across the grass, face set in concentration.

Honestly, it was adorable.

When he stumbled, his little lips pressed together as though he refused to accept defeat.

"Slow down," Beacrox muttered, though there was no real heat in his voice. The butler's son and Cale's personal chef since he started toothing adjusted his hold, steadying Cale before the baby could topple over again.

Deruth felt his chest grow warm at the sight. This had become a daily routine. If he searched the halls, he would find his boy pulling himself up against furniture, demanding to walk. If he looked to the courtyard, he'd find Cale clinging to someone's hand, cheeks puffed as he refused to give up.

It was beautiful.

And it also broke his heart.

Because for every step Cale took, every milestone that made the servants coo with delight, Deruth was reminded that somewhere, out there, another child of his was missing those very moments. His other son—his baby—was growing up far away from his reach.

There should have been another child beside his Cale. A second laugh echoing his own, a second set of tiny footsteps following along.

Deruth's throat tightened. Callis…

'Was his other son well? Was he safe? Or'—he swallowed hard—'was he crying somewhere, alone, with no one to pick him up when he fell?'

No one to be there for him?

The thought tore at him. He mourned not just the child, but the time, the moments he would never get back. All he could do was hope—hope that Callis was alive, healthy, safe and well cared for, even if it wasn't by him.

A quiet clink brought him back from his crazy crazy thoughts.

A shadow fell across him, and a cup appeared at his side. Deruth blinked and looked up only to see Ron, offering him tea with that faint, unfaltering smile of his.

"... Thank you." Deruth took the tea with a small sigh. He could never get used to his very observant butler.

Ron inclined his head, as if to say there was no need for thanks, before stepping back beside him.

He scares him sometimes.

When his gaze returned to the garden, he nearly laughed.

Cale had fallen—again.

His precious son Cale was on the ground, staring at the grass in shock. His little hands pressed into the dirt as he blinked wide eyes at Beacrox.

"...Young master," Beacrox started, crouching instantly, brushing at Cale's knees and checking his hands as though he'd fallen from a horse instead of just a clumsy step. "Are you hurt?"

Deruth couldn't help the laugh that slipped out, quiet and fond.

His son was truly a precious lil thing.

Cale answered not with tears, but with a stubborn little grunt. He smacked the young chef's hand away and pushed himself back onto unsteady feet, cheeks puffed out again as if daring him to say a word.

Beacrox looked torn between pride or exhaustion. Ultimately he chose to shake his head fondly and hold his hands again for another round.

Deruth couldn't help but fondly look at them and wonder, will Callis have the same unique attitude as his brother? Only the future could tell.

Deruth never doubted meeting his son again.

He never stopped searching after all.

"You got this."

Step.

"Just one more step—there you go!"

Callis wanted to sigh, but his tiny lungs didn't quite manage the effect he wanted yet. Instead, what came out was a small huff as his hands clung tighter to Naru's own. His legs wobbled beneath him, the grass of the castle gardens soft underneath his feet.

At almost one year of age, our silly precious protagonist was wobbling across the garden field with none other than his favourite cousin Naru guiding him along.

Naru crouched patiently before him with that bright, excited smile.

To anyone else, they would find this scene adorable.

But to Callis, this was only a stepping stone!

Two days. Two days until his birthday. The first one in this new life of his.

And he had decided—logically—that it was time to stop being carried around like some fragile glass! Honestly, every since that incident no one left him alone let alone without being held!

It was all that bastard's fault! Yes, Callis knew that the God of Death was the reason he got kidnapped away from his family that day.

It was purely by accident that he found out, if not for Fredo mentioning it in front of him, he wouldn't have known at all!

Thinking of that day, Callis adorable face frowned as memories flashed in his mind, he will never forget that moment.

Especially with his ability and thanks to that, he will make that God pay for his crimes.

And he shall scam him! It's a personal grudge after all.

Moving on, Callis must learn how to walk perfectly for he will spare no one who will laugh at him if he falls! He's already one and Fredo always mentions how he's greater than his peers!

Callis will be a fool to fall and embarrass himself in front of his silly, awkward but best dad ever like last time when he was tiny!

Well... that of course is one of the reasons why he's trying so hard to walk instead of slacking, and since, by sheer coincidence, his father's birthday fell on the same day as his own, then walking up to him like a proper adorable son and scamming the shock factor for money was just another reason.

After all, Callis is doing this for his future slacker life.

"Good job, Callis!" Naru's grin stretched wide as our redhead took another wobbly step forward. His cousin's hands were steady, keeping him from falling.

Callis couldn't help but look up at him, Naru's hair was black today and so were his eyes. He guessed that Naru preferred this when no one but them were around. 

He liked how Naru looked either with black or White hair, black or purple eyes. Both versions match him very well and Callis doesn't fault him for his other look as he too likes the fact that he looks like his father.

Naru must feel the same too, which is why he uses the other look when others are present.

Surprisingly, his favourite cousin was the best companion he had these past few months and he will always find him around and never to leave his side for long.

As well as the black egg, which in truth, Callis is kind of suspecting that it belongs to the same dragon that Choi Han had fought in the novel.

He needs more time to confirm his theory of course. Especially when that dragon was originally supposed to be trapped somewhere else by now.

Locking eyes with Naru, Our precious redhead smiled brightly at him which rendered Naru frozen there for a second.

'Heh, still effective as always.'

Now in a better cheerful mood, Callis decided to continue and finish his training for today. He trudged on, small fists clutching tightly onto Naru's fingers, steps uneven but determined. His hair was sticking to his forehead from the effort, and his chubby cheeks puffed making him look extra adorable.

As he inched forward, his thoughts drifted back to the past few months.

Silly favourite protagonist of mine, aren't your thoughts wondering off a bit too much right now?

Oh well, who am I to judge?

First, he can speak now. Not fluently, but enough to say words clearly—at least when he wanted to.

Of course, he hadn't revealed this yet. Only baby gibberish in front of everyone else. Secrets were valuable, after all. Why waste the element of surprise?

That and they might look at him strangely if he started saying full sentences out of nowhere.

Of course, not his father! Never his father. His father loves him way too much to think as such.

Callis would be a fool to think otherwise.

He thought of all the servants in this castle and it didn't even take him a second to decide. After all, he isn't one to bring trouble to himself.

He has a future slacker life to plan and gaining attention won't help at all!.

Second—his favorite uncle had nearly died. Well, almost. His father had been one glare away from ripping Fredo apart, all because Fredo had the brilliant idea to dress him in a clown costume.

The outfit had been… comfortable, he would admit. But he would deny enjoying it until his dying breath.

Of course, that didn't stop Naru on planning a fake funeral for Fredo which to callis' surprise was the third of that time.

Unfortunately for Naru, Callis wasn't able to attend fearing a possible kidnapping incident but at least our redhead was given sweets in return!

There is also Goldie, the ancient dragon had apparently taken permanent residence in the castle ever since the incident.

Apparently, by how Naru worded it, almost losing him had triggered the dragon's protectiveness, because now Eruhaben spent almost every night guarding Callis' room whenever White Star wasn't there.

By that, he meant literally sleeping inside his room.

At least he keeps the black egg company and it would be a lie to say Callis himself didn't slept better cause of it.

Who knows if the next time he sleeps he'll finds himself kidnapped again?

Curse that bastard!

...Though he did miss those Whales, he'll probably pay them a visit in the future.

Oh, and the most important development that happened thus far?

His teeth!

The two bottom middle ones had finally made their appearance! It gave his family quite the shock and his father looked so fascinated by him.

And not soon after, everyone had learned of the news and his room was filled with all types of gifts.

But nothing could ever top his father's gift after all.

His very own magic stone mine.

Turning a blind eye to the fact it was gifted to a baby, owning one was one of his future goals and he already had a location in mind but owning another? Truly his father is the best.

So are his chest muscles.

And of course, having teeth gave him yet another source of entertainment. Especially messing with Fredo and biting into everything he views as potential danger.

The look on his face is always pleasant to see, Callis smiled just thinking about it.

Another step, his legs trembled, but he pushed forward.

Naru crouched low, eyes glowing with pride. "That's it, Callis. You're so close!"

Our redhead gave him a flat stare—at least as flat as a baby could manage—before taking a step forward again. His cousin looked like he might cry from joy.

'They are so easy to please. No wonder it's easy to scam them.' Callis thought though the warmth of Naru's grip and the sound of his encouragement made something in his chest soften despite himself.

For once, he didn't mind working harder.

Two more steps. Then three.

And the garden was filled with laughter as Naru spun him around, catching him when his balance gave way.

Callis clung to him, catching his breath, eyes darting to the roses swaying nearby. He rested his cheek against Naru's shoulder for a moment, letting the warmth of the sun and his cousin's steady heartbeat calm him.

'This cheeky kid.' he huffed, but still enjoyed being held by his favourite cousin.

He'll walk into his father's arms soon, just a bit more practice.

Callis just has to be patient, just a lil longer.

Chapter Text

The sun poured lazily through the tall windows, making the already golden room shine brighter. Callis sat right in the middle of it like the lil prince he is. 

A cream shirt with frilled sleeves hung loose on his small frame, paired with dark little trousers that made him look like some doll carefully dressed by overly doting hands.

Fredo truly did him justice.

His red hair, wavy now that it had grown to his shoulders, kept falling onto his eyes as he lazied around. By his side, his infamous companion, the red turtle plush gifted to him by his favourite uncle leaned half tipped over, while lil baby hands patted the smooth black dragon egg as every pat was met with a soft hum from within.

Callis sighed contently, cheeks puffing just slightly.

'Being a slacker truly is the best.'

He kept patting, completely content. Our baby leaned a little, rosy cheek resting against his shoulder. His reddish brown eyes half lidded, already halfway to napping.

That is, until he heard the door open.

Callis didn't need to turn his head to know who it was. It wasn't the first time said person interrupted his relaxing time. Still, he looked up, cheeks faintly puffed as he blinked lazily toward the door.

Eruhaben leaned casually against the frame, his long hair braided beautifully, resting neatly on his shoulder and falling to it's hight, his sharp eyes softened slightly while they took in the sight of the redhead looking at him.

For a long minute, neither moved. They simply stared at one another.

Then, Callis puffed his cheeks slightly and went back to patting the egg. He's already familiar with this route and will not fall to temptations.

He decided to slack and that's what he'll do.

Even if Goldie's muscles looks extra shiny to look at today. Must be extra comfy too.

Eruhaben chuckled at the child's antics and finally decided to walk over. Slowly and gracefully he crouched down beside him, gaining his favourite human's attention.

He pulled out something small and shining: a bird, perfectly crafted by him from pure gold. He let the sunlight catch on its edges, making it gleam with a warm fire like glow.

Callis' beautiful eyes widened immediately at the shine and locked into it. His lil fingers paused then reached out slowly as if naturally taking what's his, only for the dragon to pull it back, smirking.

"If you want it," Eruhaben said lightly, looking at his craft then at Callis. "Say my name."

Baby hand froze mid air. His cheeks puffed further, red hair falling into his eyes as he gave the most unimpressed stare he could manage with such a tiny face, clearly showing his annoyance as his lips pressed flat.

'Is he really trying to bribe me this time? As if, I won't fall for such temptation!'

Yes, our gramps here have been trying for a while now to make Callis say his name after the incident of him calling out to Naru in front of the residents of the palace at dinner two months ago.

Let's just say, Naru had been bragging about it none stop which made the already competitive dragon get more well...crazy crazy.

Yes, even if it's his nephew he's competing with. After all, dragons are known to be possessive.

The redhead's burning eyes made the ancient dragon chuckle, then took the advantage of the situation to poke those rosy cheeks.

"Hoo, being stubborn huh?"

Callis slapped at his finger half heartedly, more offended at having his peaceful slacker time interrupted than at being teased. He turned his head away chanting 'out of sight out of mind' as he decided to ignore the dragon in the room.

So what if he can't get the birdie? He'll ask his favourite uncle for one!

Being spoiled and loved dearly since birth does that to people, Callis is not an exception.

After finally making peace with the situation, he continued to laze around and pat the baby dragon egg.

The egg hummed which made him giggle.

But of course, the dragon wasn't finished. "Hmm… maybe I should just destroy it then." He tilted the golden bird, holding it with his pretty long fingers ready to crush it.

Callis' eyes went wide, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. 'What?!' he looked at the dragon who was clearly ready to crush the shiny birdie.

'Is he an idiot?! Why waste such good quality gold??!'

The redhead was lost, his baby brain with all its intelligence couldn't fathom the thought of destroying such a lovely piece of gold.

The Dragon is clearly an idiot!!

Feeling like the only actual adult in the room, Callis gently let the egg go and reached his tiny hands to grab Eruhaben's legs, using it as support to stand up.

Yes, only Naru knew he could walk. The rest think that standing up is his limit.

And even that was rare to them.

Eruhaben's eyes widened in surprise, delight carefully hidden but was very pleased. He smiled at the baby and hummed, "so you do want it. Say my name then."

Callis huffed, cheeks puffed, eyes narrowing, and in the cutest, tiniest defiant voice said, "Nu, gib!"

The gold dragon's eyebrows rose from the shock of hearing the young one's voice. Especially since he rarely spoke. He shifted his stance carefully, making sure Callis doesn't fall but still lifted his hand that was holding the golden bird away from him.

"Say it child, and it's all yours."

Tired, and knowing that this will take him no where, Callis decided to take advantage of all his ultimate weapon to win.

Scamming is always the solution to everything after all.

Drip.

Drip.

Red eyes blinked up at gold as tears slowly fell down in a matter of seconds. Bottom lip trembling in injustice as the sweet, trembling eyes of the beautiful baby looked at him hurtful and in confusion.

As if wondering why said adult was bullying him.

The tear didn't even reach the ground before the dragon scooped Callis up instantly, holding him tight to his chest. The golden bird forgotten in his hand as he hugged his baby with care, rocking him slightly.

Eruhaben was truly too old for this—

"Hush child, don't cry over foolish things. I'll fill this castle with all the golden birds you want so please calm down."

Callis rested against his chest immediately, muscily chest rising and falling with the dragon's heartbeat. He let out a tiny, muffled whimper, making the ancient dragon curse and try to soothe him faster.

Of course, Callis was simply enjoying this moment and knew that it won't be long till he had his prize. Even though the crazy dragon would most definitely fill this castle with gold as he said.

Successfully scamming his opponent, he let himself relax into Eruhaben's hold and enjoy the well built muscles.

'Truly, perfectly comfy as I imagined.'

From the open doorway, a familiar figure appeared. Fredo, passing by the room simply to feed his favourite human, glanced inside. His eyes fell on Callis nestled in the arms of a very panicked dragon.

The vampire's brows shot up.

"What happened?!" He demanded, quickly heading to the two.

Knowing how dramatic Fredo is, Callis decided to have mercy on Goldie and not let the situation escalate.

He was going to gift him a castle worth of golden birds after all.

'The things I do for them.'

Callis sighed delightfully and blinked at Fredo, offering a wide, innocent smile as if he wasn't in tears just a moment ago.

Even his lil teeth are showing!

"Unkl.." he said softly, the word coming out surprisingly clearer than intended which made him cuss in his mind.

'Hopefully no one noticed.'

Poor baby, if only he knew.

Fredo's expression turned from shock to happiness then soon softened instantly. Relief washed over him, and he moved forward casually, arms open. "Hey there, lil Highness," he greeted, happily scooping Callis up with ease from the dragon who was just as shocked at Fredo.

This was the closest to a perfect word they heard from him, other than Naru's name of course, but that doesn't count.

From Eruhaben's side, golden eyes followed the exchange, a faint frown tugging at the corner of his mouth. 'So this is it? Two months of coaxing, teasing, and bribing for a word, and he's only impressed enough to call out for Fredo?'

No, The ancient dragon wasn't jealous at all.

Fredo who was floating on cloud nine right now happily kissed the redhead's forehead and patted his back. No one could take this moment from him after all.

His lil Highness called out to him. His intelligent, one of a kind, beautiful, handsome baby boy called him uncle and smiled so brightly at him.

At first he was jealous that for a year, Callis only called out for his lord, but that was expected since he is the father. But then when he called out Naru's name as well...

Fredo truly felt left out.

But now, he could also say he's his lil Highness's favourite! Hah even the stupid dragon didn't get to beat him on this!

Fredo adjusted Callis in his arms, the baby curling instinctively into him. He brushed a hand through the boy's soft red hair, lips curving into a smile. "As delighted as I am right now, it's time for you to eat."

At the mention of food, Callis perked up instantly, little hand patting Fredo's chest as if to say yes, he totally forgot that he's supposed to eat right now! Finally having teeth, as lil as he has, made his appreciation for meals infinite.

'I wonder if I'm allowed to have sweets today? If dad is there then I will request some!'

His father doesn't always join him for meals which is to be expected with his title but, when he does, he always treats him with sweets.

Fredo chuckled at the reaction, his purple eyes flicking toward the golden figure still crouched nearby. "You're welcome to join us as well," he said, voice smooth, almost casual—though the slight smugness laced in was impossible to miss.

It was rare when he could one up the dragon after all.

Eruhaben met his gaze evenly. For a moment, the dragon said nothing. Then, with the barest lift of a brow, he sighed and straightened to his full height, dusting an imaginary speck from his robe.

"I will join everyone later today, I have things to attend to right now."

With that, he disappeared. Fredo chuckled and patted the redhead.

This far too sweet a victory not to savor.

The dining hall was lively this evening, mostly because the smallest member of the household had decided he had much to say.

"Wha eh?" Callis pointed a chubby finger toward the large bowl gleaming with greens.

"That's a salad, lil Highness," Fredo answered smoothly,looking fondly at the baby.

Barely two seconds passed before another finger jabbed at a red shape. "Wha eh?"

Naru leaned forward this time, grin wide. "That's an apple," he replied, clearly enjoying the game far too much. The magic device, discreetly resting on the table, flickered faintly as it captured the moment.

If their lord couldn't be here to watch, well… he won't miss a thing.

Callis blinked, absorbing the words in silence, before pointing again. "Wha eh?"

The servants, lined neatly along the wall, exchanged muffled chuckles, their hearts melting each time the boy's soft voice rang out.

"That's bread." Fredo, still unflinching, placed a piece onto Callis' tiny plate. "Though you're not eating all of that."

Callis hummed in delight. He was glad that he thought of this silly game.

After all, it's better to prepare everyone when he decides to speak. And to avoid future accidents that shouldn't be repeated and so using this game as a way to learn words should be enough to not rise any red flags.

Plus, practice makes perfect after all.

Our sly protagonist, satisfied with his plans, leaned back against his own seat, pointing lazily toward different dishes and repeating his little "Wha eh?" as though this game could go on forever.

Who said he'll ever stop? He's a baby and doesn't know any better after all.

It's not his fault if his uncle and favourite cousin suffer in the process.

Such a kind hearted protagonist—

Chapter Text

The thought of being a father had never crossed Cale Barrow's mind before, and it would not have, had he not met his son.

For centuries, the curse stripped him of what it meant to live and be normal by any means. Sleep? a luxury denied to him from the very moment the curse took root.

Food? While he could eat, he could never taste or enjoy anything which is hardly any better.

Luck? A cruel joke. While he could never truly die, his life had been anything but fortunate, each day survived through intellect and sheer will rather than grace.

Empathy, love, sadness—those things had been torn from him even though he didn't have much to begin with. He couldn't care less if anyone died much less than those who called themselves his companions.

Of course their loyalty he rewarded, but nothing more. That was the extent of what his hollow heart allowed.

So truly, the thought of caring for a child, much less an infant, had never belonged in his world. And yet fate, as if mocking him, placed one right into his arms.

A child. A son.

One who mirrored him in ways that others couldn't. Never had he thought there'll ever be a miniature version of himself much less a baby so pure as him. One who, simply by existing by his side, eased the effect of the curse to the point he could hardly feel it much less be affected by it.

By only being near him, much less hold him does the effect truly weakens and for a year, White Star felt like a living, breathing person.

It was delightful.

White Star's thoughts wandered to the baby in his arms, sleeping soundly against him. His pale fingers brushed through the soft strands of hair that had begun to grow thicker with the passing months, before placing a soft kiss on those strands.

A year. His son had grown so quickly, already past his first year of life. The exact day of his birth wasn't truly difficult to find and out of kindness, chose to honor the original date he had learned of.

He even claimed it as his own birthday as well, if only to witness the innocent delight that brightened his son's face the day he told him.

Truly, his son was easy to please. As intelligent as he was he was still after all, a baby.

White Star's hand absently patted the small head resting against his bare chest. He had long since noticed the curious way his son's eyes would wander toward him.

To be exact, his muscles.

As strange as his son's little fascinations were, White Star indulged them. In fact, he had begun training more deliberately, strengthening his body, just to see that familiar sparkle light up in the boy's gaze whenever he caught sight of him.

Truly, his son was a delight.

Unlike any other ugly creatures humans call children.

White Star felt truly blessed with having such a beautiful son, and his enemies will rue the day they dared to touch even a single strand of his hair.

Especially the bastard and his followers.

"Mhm."

The soft sound of his baby's voice stopped White Star's thoughts to take on a darker turn.

He was quite content with staying with his son like this and it was almost disappointing when he felt the faintest stir—the twitch of tiny fingers curling against his skin, along with another sigh slipping past soft lips.

Slowly, reddish brown eyes peeked open, half lidded and heavy with sleep. His son's lashes fluttered, and he gave the world the laziest glance possible before pressing his face right back against White Star as if to hide from the day.

Sometimes, White Star thought his son loved to slacker. But the thought easily vanished since babies always slept for longer hours.

"...Papa..."

The word slipped out like a breath, slurred and drowsy, but clear enough for him to hear it.

His heart skipped a beat.

Truly, his son was one of a kind. Only he could make his emotions rise at such a rate by only saying one word.

White Star's lips curved faintly as he tilted his head, brushing his lips against the crown of red hair that now reached his shoulders in soft waves.

"You greet me only after a full night of sleep?" White Star's voice was low and almost teasing, enough to make the child dazed for a moment.

Callis let out a soft huff against him, puffing his cheeks in half hearted protest even in his dazed state. And as if regaining a few brain cells, he let out a tiny, defeated sigh and gave his father's bare chest a lazy pat with his little hand.

As if saying I'm awake, don't tease me.

White Star chuckled and poked his son's rosy cheek. "So lazy."

Callis wriggled a little, puffing his cheeks even more in protest, before deciding to tuck his face deeper into his father's chest. His hair tickled White Star's skin, and a small yawn slipped out of him, making the adult smile fondly at him.

"You'd rather sleep than face the morning, hmm?" White Star brushed a hand through his son's hair, untangling the soft waves with his fingers. "Perhaps you're more like me than I thought."

As if that comment alone made the baby pleased, he rubbed his face slightly on his father's comfy chest and let out a sound that sounded much like a child's delight.

White Star shook his head, amused, before pressing another kiss to the crown of his hair. "Very well. Sleep a little longer, then. I'll allow it."

But just as he said it, his son peeked up at him with the laziest, adorable smile before promptly shutting his eyes and snuggling back down as if the effort of lifting his head had been far too much work.

White Star's chest shook with quiet laughter. Truly, his child was far too easy to please.

The dining hall was lively with the sound of cutlery, the smell of fresh bread, and the soft chatter of the morning.

White Star sat at the head of the long table, one hand holding a spoon as he carefully fed his son who was sitting comfortably on his lap. Callis opened his mouth lazily and ate, clearly enjoying his slacker treatment.

The redhead adult seemed to enjoy feeding his son as occasionally stuffed him with extra just to see how puffed up his baby's cheeks could get.

"One more," White Star murmured, holding the spoon steady.

Callis puffed his cheeks that were already filled with food but leaned forward all the same, letting his father feed him before slumping against the broad chest behind him. His mouth was quickly dabbed clean with a napkin, White Star humming, satisfied with the result.

Looking at his father's expression, Callis couldn't help but shake his head.

Truly, his father might have stoic face syndrome, but only with him around does his expression lean to be more natural.

He is after all, a silly but awkward single dad who is shy and can't express himself much and only hides behind a carefully constructed mask.

Callis believes it's because he's a king of his nation so it's only natural to be like that.

Which is why he indulges his father whenever his masks show hints of breaking.

'The things I do for him.'

"I take it that everything is set?" White Star's eyes didn't leave his son as he addressed the rest.

Why would he? When his son is clearly the most important person in the room.

Fredo, seated to his left, placed his cup down and gave a small smile. "Yes. A full week of celebration has been arranged. The citizens are already offering their congratulations and the palace is filled with joy. Everything is prepared for the young prince's birthday as well as yours."

To say Fredo was shocked when he heard the news was an understatement, he truly didn't expect his liege to share his birthday date with lil Highness.

White Star gave a thoughtful hum, gently brushing crumbs from his child's cheek before offering him another spoonful. Callis accepted, albeit slowly.

He actually didn't expect that the day would arrive so soon! He was glad that he practiced with Naru just in case last night.

'Hopefully, I won't fall and embarrass myself.'

Yes, this was a rather serious matter, more important than le food he's eating right now!

"It isn't just that," Naru chimed in from the seat next to Fredo, his expression showing clear amusement. "The halls are ready, the gift room is full—so many offerings have arrived from the citizens. But…"His gaze flickered toward Eruhaben.

White star raised a brow, not pleased with the fact that something might go wrong on this perfect day. "But?"

Naru pressed his lips together, suppressing a chuckle. "Well, the palace seems to be overflowing with birds made of pure gold. The staff doesn't know where to put them anymore."

There was a beat of silence. White Star's spoon paused mid air. Fredo set down his fork. Even Callis, who had been absentmindedly chewing, froze and turned his wide eyes toward the dragon, shocked that he had moved so quickly.

All three of them stared at Eruhaben in unison.

The golden dragon only wiped his mouth elegantly and smiled. "It's a gift," he stated in a matter of fact tone, "for the young prince, of course. He seemed rather fond of the golden bird I showed him last time."

At their silence, Eruhaben raised an eyebrow. Only for them to continue to do what they were doing.

It's a universal knowledge to not question a dragon about their wealth and they weren't stupid enough to question the sanity of an ancient dragon when it came to it.

White Star was pleased with him nonetheless, his son deserves the best after all. And as for Callis, he wondered if his plushie could fit in a castle worth of golden birds.

Only time could tell.

It was perfect, gold chandeliers glowing brightly as silk curtains rippling softly against the tall windows.

The ballroom was splendidly well prepared that even Naru outdid himself this time.

Yes, after all the fake funerals planning, Naru had found a new talent in decorating and he was thriving!

Even Fredo didn't expect his son to be so talented, although it was expected since the poor man was never invited to his own funeral.

It was still a secret event held behind his back after all.

And everyone else, even white Star though he never attended, was in on it.

Every noble attending were dressed to the nine today to share this joyous occasion as the music blended with the background with laughter and smiles of everyone inside.

Truly today was perfect.

But, of course, Callis cared for none of it.

For he had a mission!!

Nestled securely in Naru's arms—after very loudly refusing to be held by anyone else—he had his eyes only on his father, who had finally taken his seat after delivering the formal speech.

The cake would come soon, and with it, the moment he had been training for.

He even sacrificed most of his slacker time for it!

Naru leaned closer, his smile bright as he whispered, "Are you ready, Callis?"

The child gave a firm nod, or as firm as his soft features allowed. "En!"

Naru chuckled softly, patting his head, careful not to disturb the carefully styled hair and accessories the maids had fretted over for hours. Tonight, Callis truly looked like the precious, beautiful Prince he was.

His soft, wavy red hair had been brushed to shine and gathered partly back with a small, jewel ribbon clip, while the rest framed his face to perfection.

His outfit matched his father's, a miniature suit of white and silver threaded with deep crimson accents. A sash tied neatly at his waist and tiny boots finished the look.

He even had a small version of his liege's mask on as well!

Callis was every bit the main character of the evening, and the cooing crowd clearly agreed.

Naru straightened and called out, voice masking his excitement. He ignored the cooing looks he received from the guests as well.

Sometimes he forgets that, he too, was a child loved by everyone.

"Your Excellency, our Highness wants to have your attention, please."

At once, eyes turned to the masked redhead in the room. White Star lifted his gaze, curious.

His son had finally wanted his attention? After ignoring him the entire evening?

No, White Star was not sulking. Absolutely not.

Keeping his face perfectly calm, he gave a single nod and focused on his son in Naru's arms.

Naru approached, keeping a safe distance between them, before crouching low. "Good luck." He smiled softly then lowered Callis to the floor.

Gasps filled the room immediately.

"The young prince—he's standing?"

"Impossible! I thought those were just rumors."

"He's so steady already—how precious!"

The nobles leaned forward in awe, whispers spreading like wildfire.

Even Marquis Gersey almost fainted from that sight alone, if not for his attendants holding him steady.

Dorph and Sayeru too were affected, with one had literal tears in their eyes threatening to fall.

And then it happened.

Step.

Wobble.

Step.

A glass fell from the hand of the ancient dragon as he looked in shock, if not for Fredo's quick reaction and that he was standing next to him, it would've shattered and distracted the baby.

They both silently looked at eachother, then at their lil Highness who was taking his first steps in front of the world to witness.

The crowd collectively held their breath as he began his slow, unsteady march across the polished floor. Callis  ignored the reactions around him and simply focused on his task.

He had trained for this after all.

'Do not fall.'

Some guests squealed softly, hands pressed to their lips in adoration. Others shushed them quickly, terrified of distracting the lil prince.

But none were as captivated as White Star.

His body moved before his mind caught up, standing from his seat in shock. For the first time in a long while, his composure cracked. His son was walking—no, his son was walking toward him.

The crowd melted into background noise. All that existed to him was his precious baby in front of him.

White Star lowered himself onto one knee almost reverently, leveling himself so his son wouldn't have to reach so far or accidentally fall on the way.

The cursed guide book had prepared him for such occasions after all.

But for it to happen so soon.

His long hair slipped over his shoulders, his arms reached out  without hesitation, waiting for Callis to come to him.

Callis in turn, wobbled forward on his tiny legs and took one shaky, but firm step at a time. His little arms stretched out, his eyes fixed on his father who stood waiting just a short distance away.

One step, then another, and the room became so quiet that even the faint patter of his steps seemed loud.

Ten steps.

And then, he leaned forward, falling straight into White Star's waiting embrace.

"Haah."

There was a heartbeat of silence before the hall erupted into cheers. claps and laughter filled the ballroom, voices overlapping as they congratulated the young prince on his first steps.

White Star practically scooped his son up immediately, lifting him high before pressing a tender kiss against his soft forehead. "Well done, my precious blessing," he whispered, his voice carrying both pride and overwhelming love.

Even though it was technically not his actual birthday, Cale Barrow felt that this was the best birthday present he could ever ask for.

He should gift his son a country just to honour this precious moment.

Callis blinked up at him, cheeks pink from the effort, but then he smiled. A wide, toothy grin, full of pure delight.

"Papa!"

That too, received coos and awws from the crowd. But Callis didn't care about saving face right now.

He actually did it! And to see his father smile so brightly at him like that, his lil heart warmed up.

Even if in his previous life never tasted or had the love of a parent, but right now he felt blessed.

Truly, his silly father is the best and he would protect him!

Choi Han better not set foot in this place! A walking disaster would ruin his peaceful slacker life and bring trouble to his poor father.

He hummed, resting his head against White Star’s chest.

Nothing could ever ruin this moment for him.

"Bring out the cake!" Naru cheered, practically bouncing in excitement.

How could he not? He was very happy at this moment.

Servants hurried in, carrying a grand cake decorated in brilliant red and silver. Both colours represent the lil prince since White Star didn't bother with recommending anything.

But what caught Callis' curious gaze was the tiny mini cake set delicately on top—his cake, small and perfect, waiting just for him.

The crowd parted as the cake was carefully placed before them. Eruhaben, Fredo, and Naru all moved toward their assigned places, while White Star stood at the center, holding his precious son close against him.

Callis leaned slightly forward in his father's arms, staring at the sweet creation with wide, bright eyes.

The hall dimmed, not fully dark but soft enough for the glow of the single candle to shine like a star. Naru gave the crowd a meaningful glance, and without a word, everyone began to sing.

The melody filled the ballroom, warm and joyful, and Callis' round eyes reflected the tiny flickering flame.

White Star gently patted his soft hair, leaning down to whisper against his ear, "Make a wish."

A wish?

Callis blinked slowly. He didn't believe in wishes. Not really. Why make one, if all it did was set unnecessary expectations that were bound to crumble?

Still… his father's eyes were on him And he couldn't help but do so as asked if only to play along for him, he could at least pretend to make a wish.

He scammed everyone with his acting skills before so a lil act won't harm him.

When the song ended, Callis obediently closed his eyes, puffed his cheeks, and blew softly at the flame. The candle went out without trouble and the mass erupted with cheers and claps.

But in that very instant, he heard a voice in his mind.

Huh? But he didn't—

Before he could even register who or what that was, the crowd's cheer turned into gasps and cries. White Star's arms tightened desperately around him, but Callis could feel himself slipping away, fading.

Something wrong was happening to him right now and he couldn't register or do anything about it.

The last thing he heard was his father's sharp panicked voice, shattering with fear.

"Callis!!"

And then, darkness swallowed him whole.

Chapter Text

It hurt Deruth to see him like this.

It was supposed to be a day full of joy, a day to celebrate twins' first birthday. Yet only one child sat in his nursery, while the other remained missing.

It broke the hearts of everyone in the territory.

Deruth sat by the bed, watching his son in silence, he didn't know what to do.

Normally, lil Cale was a mischievous boy, a trouble maker who would do everything in his power to give him heart attacks.

All while doing so with a wide, innocent expression on his face.

Deruth loved him to death.

However, today his precious son was different.

Deruth knelt down beside him, his voice soft, almost pleading.

"Cale, my son… please, look at me."

The boy only sat there quietly, eyes unfocused as he stared into nothing.

It hurts, seeing him like this.

Deruth had tried everything. At dawn, when he first noticed the emptiness in his son's eyes, he immediately summoned doctors.

They examined Cale carefully, yet each one shook their head and assured him there was no illness. "He's healthy, my lord," is what they said but Deruth couldn't believe it.

How could his child who was just a day ago laughing so brightly, look so lost right now?

It hurts.

Deruth tried to smile, fearing if he showed weakness, he'll break. "Cale… come now," he softly fixed the few messy strands on his son's hair "Today's supposed to be happy. Today is…" He faltered, his throat closing on the words. Today is your birthday.

But it wasn't... Not really.

It was their birthday.

And no matter how he hid it, no matter how he tried to fake it, there would always be one child missing.

He clenched his fists against his knees, staring at the floor. He couldn't let himself fall apart, not when his son was looking at him with such hollow, faraway eyes.

So he tried again.

"Look," Deruth said, forcing cheer into his tone, "look, Cale, papa brought you outside earlier, didn't he? The gardens are blooming—your favorite flowers, remember? You always reach out to pick the brightest."

Even though he doesn't know why he's so fascinated about it. Maybe, if he mentioned his favourite things, he'll react. Right?

No.

His precious baby boy didn't even blink and simply sat there like a hollow doll.

His chest hurt, he couldn't understand it. Cale was so young, far too young to know grief. The doctors were right, weren't they? Babies couldn't remember things like this, couldn't miss people.

And yet…

How else could he explain this situation?

How else could he explain the way Cale's eyes always seemed to drift, searching for something, someone?

How else could he explain the way his baby looked like all hope was lost?

Looking at his son's face, Deruth knew he had to do something—anything—to cheer him up. He couldn't bear to let his baby spend the day drowning in silence, not when this was supposed to be a day of joy.

So, despite the ache in his chest, he carried on with the party preparations.

All he had to do was signal to the butler for it to be done. Truly, he could always trust Ron to be quick with everything.

Soon after, he dressed his son in something simple and comfortable, not wanting to burden him with the usual fine clothes. He then held Cale in his arms and walked through the hall. Showing him all the decorations, and most importantly, the cake Beacrox made especially for him.

Sure, it wasn't grand, but he didn't want to overwhelm his son more.

"Look, Cale," he said softly, pointing at the colorful colours and decorations room. "All of this was done especially for you."

But the redhead didn't make a sound, only rested quietly against his shoulder, his eyes unfocused.

Deruth sighed, carefully setting him down on the chair of honor. A single cake was placed before him, a candle burning gently at its center.

Only a handful of people attended—Ron, Beacrox, and a few servants. Deruth had dismissed the rest. He knew Cale was too fragile today; he didn’t want to overwhelm him with noise or attention.

Nodding at the rest, who looked worried about Cale but still smiled nonetheless, started softly singing for the young birthday boy.

He stood behind the chair, gently patting his son’s head and after the melody ended, he forced a smile for the sake of his baby. "Make a wish, Cale."

For a long moment, there was no response. Then, slowly, Cale blinked, as if waking up from a daze, and turned his wide, glassy eyes up at him.

"…Ish?" The single sound came out, soft and confused.

Everyone held their breath and Deruth froze, his heart skipping a beat.

It was the first time his son had reacted all day. Quickly, before the moment slipped away, he forced his voice into a soft tone and leaned closer. "Yes," he kissed the crown of his head, "it's your birthday. You get to make a wish and blow out the candle."

Cale's eyes returned to the cake, but his mind was elsewhere.

He didn't know why, but today of all days he felt his chest ach in a way he couldn't understand. He couldn't rest, couldn't even think straight.

As if every inch of his soul was trying to tell him something bad was going to happen, and his brother's life was at risk.

And he won't be able to do anything to stop it.

Cale even stepped as low as praying to that bastard of a god who didn't even try to reply to him, even when he literally screamed in his head and begged for answers.

Our baby couldn't find any answers, nothing to sooth his aching heart.

He was powerless.

He was alone with this choking fear that the one person who mattered most to him was slipping away and he won't be able to do anything to stop him.

And what could he do? He was just a child now trapped in a small body. He couldn't fight, he couldn't search, he hardly could even walk right now.

But in his desperation, his father gave him the answer.

'A wish,' Cale thought bitterly, staring at the small flame. It sounded ridiculous, what good would that do? And yet… wasn't it all he had left?

His eyes stung, his throat ached. Because if there was even the smallest chance…

His lips moved before he could stop himself. "…Liss."

Deruth's breath caught sharply, looking shocked but Cale didn't notice.

'Callis' he repeated in his heart, clinging to the name like a lifeline.

'I don't care if you are able to hear me or not, I don't care if you are busy or fighting for your life.'

Bring me my brother back.

Or Cale swears that he'll stop to nothing even if it means burning the world for the sake of finding his him.

If God truly knew better, he wouldn't risk making an enemy out of him.

Our baby closed his eyes and blew.

Please.

The flame vanished, and finally he received a reply.

The God of Death had one job.

Return the child to his rightful family. Was it so hard to do? why was it proving impossible? He was a god, for gods' sake.

His temples ached at the thought. He pinched the bridge of his nose, though it did nothing.

The last time he tried to meddle, the child's so called 'father' had responded in the most predictable yet horrifying way he could ever imagined. by hunting down nearly all of his followers, eliminating them out one by one as they soon almost became extinct.

It had forced him to retreat, to watch from a distance as the boy grew in the enemy's arms. One year was already pushing the limits of his patience. Another eighteen would be a disaster.

Separating the twins had been a mistake in the first place, and the world will pay the consequences of it.

Especially because Kim Rok Soo—no, Callis—was not just a simple child. He is the person capable of locking away the Sealed God's growing influence and stopping the White Star's plans before they bare fruit.

Without him, the world staggered closer and closer toward an apocalypse.

The GoD even had high hopes because his twin, Cale, will become a sword master and aid him on his journey.

But fate truly decided to fuck with him.

The thought made the God of Death's jaw tighten. He couldn't allow the boy to be raised like this! What if in the future he'll decide to side with the enemy simply because of the bond they created over the years?

Not to mention the Soos aren't even going to help him! Deciding that their brother's happiness is much more important than literal world peace.

He closed his eyes, feeling his blood pressure spike again—though why a god should even suffer from such a mortal nuisance, he didn't know.

Then—

A soft voice reached out to him.

A prayer.

He knew immediately who it was, in fact, he had heard it many times on multiple occasions throughout the day.

It was Cale, the same human who ignored him for almost a year and only 'prayed' to him when it came to questioning about his brother's whereabouts.

Not that he could've answered him for it would be like sending a baby rabbit to a lion's den.

Plus, the lil troublemaker would possibly scam him again if he let him have his way.

Still, it was strange for him to reach out like this.

The God of Death had thought of taking him as a saint but he's too young now and it was still risky, especially with the other gods paying interest to him right now.

He closed his eyes and listened, even though he won't reply, he still wanted to know why he's practically screaming at him all day.

Chapter Text

Rasheel only cared about two things in this world.

Sleeping.

And fighting.

That was it, though it's not like he's a maniac like that one Bob we all know and love, but he's out there. To him, the rest of le world could rot for all he cared....unless literal world danger level threat appears but it's not like that'll ever happen.

Who's stupid enough to fight dragons anyway?

So of course, to him, nothing matters more than a good night rest, even if it lasts centuries. No one could ever argue with him on that.

Unless they want to have their body broken into pieces and that's if he's on a shiny, good mood.

So for the court of viewers and readers to find him innocent of all charges of what is about to happen, they must know that Rasheel is a good dragon.

....as good as a dragon could get.

True, he's rude. Arrogant maybe, but who's to say other dragons aren't?

It's a trait at this point and no we aren't talking about you Eruhaben, you are shiny enough to not be held accountable to whatever crazy crazy stuff going on here.

Like other Dragons of his kind, Rasheel acts superior toward humans and other creatures beneath him, he thinks of himself as a great and mighty being and to be honest, isn't he?

Elves basically worship them for a reason after all.

Still, Rasheel is different from his other kins, not to say that all dragons are similar of course! but every dragon is special in their own way.

Look at their colours for example, no dragon shares their own with another.

Literally impossible, which is officially stated while the author proceeded to hide Naru in a closet before anyone could complain.

Anyway, Rasheel's own attribute is meant to cause destruction and it's very offensive, what would you expect from a dragon who fought for three hundred years just because he's tired of using magic?

Attributes are a Dragon's pride so of course we can't fault him for using it!!

No, we must instead thank him for his kindness since he didn't start the destruction of the world if not that then the extinction of a random race!

...which might not be accurate since he's not one to... murder?

Anyway, we should be very grateful that he feels so superior to others to the point that sleeping is his best way of enjoy his life and cause destruction there to satisfy himself without actual people being affected.

Again, he's no murderer.

Because apparently, the real world isn't worthy enough for him.

So truly, we can't stress this enough. Rasheel values his sleep more than anything!

Which is why we plead the court to just hear him out!! The poor dragon was only sleeping it's not like he'll know a random God decided to yeet a baby to his lair!!

He was only trying to continue his slumber in peace.

And Rasheel had been enjoying the best damn sleep of his life. His huge body coiled deep in the heart of his lair, wings tucked tight against his sides, his head resting heavy on the finest of pillows that were stacked together for maximum comfort.

How did those pillows become huge enough for a dragon to use Well... magic.

He was having the best sleep in centuries! Well...of course until someone dared to ruin it.

In his dazed, murderous state, he let his Dragon Fear run free unconsciously. It was only natural for a dragon to protect his lair of every and all intruders after all.

And he was quite sleepy too so double murderous intent.

Although he didn't notice who had invaded his space, Rasheel wasn't one to care and even more so while sleeping.

Death was the only answer.

He could already feel the intruder dying from his pressure alone, and for a weak being like that, the gray dragon didn't even feel the need to fully wake up and actually check who was out there.

That is of course, before the Elementals forced him awake.

'STOP! STOP!!'

'BAD DRAGON! DON'T HURT BABY!'

'Sob, beautiful baby don't die!'

The young Water and Wind Elementals were all sobbing at this point, trying to gain Rasheel's attention and stop him from doing something they all know he will regret.

But he wasn't listening, so they did what they do best.

Swoooooosh-

The Wind Elementals created a small wind currents, at least strong enough to slap the sleepy dragon awake but not enough to affect the baby laying near.

The young Water Elementals joined forces and added water to it to set off rain like effect strong enough to make the dragon wet all over.

And then hell broke loose.

Splash!

Rasheel's eyes shot wide open in an instant, feeling himself drenched all over.

"…You little shits!" Yes, it's not the first time this had happened to him.

Of course he knew the Elementals are the cause of it.

"Did you just—did you seriously—FUCKING WAKE ME UP WITH RAIN?!"

'It worked! He's awake!!'

'Bad idea! Abort! Abort!'

'Shut up, he looks even scarier now!!'

The Water Elementals smacked the Wind Elemental that had said that.

'Stupid! We save baby!'

As if gaining the lost brain cell at that moment, the Wind Elementals all decided to bully the dragon that scared them just a second ago.

'Bad dragon!'

'We're not sorry! You were killing the baby!!'

'Yeah, a baby! A BEAUTIFUL BABY! Do you not see tiny baby?!'

Rasheel blinked, finally dragging his gaze down to the intruder.

A tiny redhead baby was shaking on the ground, tiny chest rising in uneven gasps, face pale as snow.

Rasheel felt his stomach drop.

"…what the fuck," his voice cracked in disbelief.

'Innocent! Helpless! must protect!'

'PRECIOUS!!'

His ears buzzed from all the noise the Elementals were making but for the first time in a while, he didn't ignore them.

The baby was dying.

He was still actively killing him.

His pupils shrank into slits, and the oppressive weight of his Dragon Fear vanished instantly, like it had never been there at all.

He almost killed a child.

"Fuck. Shit. Fuck!" He scrambled, shifting out of his massive dragon form into a more appropriate one. His grey wet hair was still dripping from the Water Elemental's stunt, his eyebrows furrowed deep as he crouched down by the tiny body.

He reached out, hands hovering stupidly in the air.

What was he doing?

How the hell was he supposed to pick this child up?! He never held anything other than weapons in his entire life!

Finally, he decided to awkwardly scoop the tiny baby up into his arms.

The now clearly passed out redhead had zero support and so it only took a second for his baby head to move to the side dangerously until Rasheel jerked his arm to support it.

"Shit! Shit—damn it—don't die, don't fucking die on me!!"

'Hold him steady!' the Wind Elementals cried.

'Support the neck, stupid dragon you are doing it all wrong!!' the Water Elementals wailed.

"KEEP TALKING AND I WILL END YOU!!" Rasheel snapped at them, hands fumbling as he tried to adjust. His heart was beating so loudly, he was never meant to deal with this. "Who the hell just—WHO THE FUCK LEAVES A BABY IN MY LAIR?!"

The Elementals only sobbed louder.

'Baby appeared like swoosh!'

'Yeah! Like magic!'

'No one came with shiny baby!'

'Teleported?' He scowled, gaze narrowing down at the small bundle in his arms. His eye twitched as he searched for any traces of mana.

But the more he checked, the more confused he became.

"This human is so weak, I never seen such low affinity for mana in my life."

The child didn't even reek of unstable teleportation magic, didn't even have enough mana signature to justify it either.

And—damn it all—he was beautiful. How could a human rival a Dragon's looks like that?! Even with the small mask Rasheel could tell.

He glared at the passed out baby, only to notice something else off about him.

Unsure, or rather, didn't want to believe what he just discovered, he awkwardly pulling the boy closer against him, lowering his face closer to the baby's hair just to be sure.

A dragon's scent.

How did a human get such a strong scent attached to him? Was he cuddling with a dragon all his life?!

.... actually, after the last incident, Eruhaben had basically slept inside Callis' room every night.

Call it trauma, but he all but left his side at night. Unless White Star was there, the ancient dragon never left his room at all.

And yes, White star knows. He allowed it after knowing the dragon only wanted to protect his son.

He even decided to perish the idea of killing him since he was so useful.

Anyway, Rasheel didn't like the fact that the baby all but smelled like a certain dragon's hatchling.

"The Golden Dragon's stink all over you. What the hell did he do? Why are you—"He cut himself off, clutching the baby tighter.

He truly doesn't like the thought of Eruhaben being related to this.

'Does stupid dragon know baby?'

'Baby's family? Yay new friends!!'

'Sob, baby needs help.'

Rasheel tsk'd at their comments but he knew it's true. The child needs immediate care and he wasn't so heartless to let him suffer like this.

...it was kind of his fault after all.

So even if he hated visiting other dragons, and especially doesn't want to face that scary demon, he had to return this baby to his family.

Maybe he'll be able to sleep sooner if he finished this now.

He wasn't interested why the ancient dragon even marked this human, but he's sure he couldn't let the kid die in his arms.

With that, Rasheel vanished. Heading straight to Mount Yellia.

Of course, the Elementals followed soon after.

The castle was in ruins.

Where once a beautiful celebration was held, now turned into ruins.

Shards of glass crunched underfoot where the chandeliers had shattered, fire still burnt but less aggressively as it was a moment ago.

Even the decorations that Naru had spent Fredo's money on had turned into dust.

No one dared to speak.

The guests had left, ushered to leave by Naru who knew better than to let them witness their liege's wrath. And the nobles too understood that whatever happened, it wasn't the time to question their lord.

Only a handful remained, mainly those who White Star 'trusted'. None of them understood what had truly happened, but they all recognized the same truth, their prince was kidnapped by the same bastard from before.

The God had dared to steal him again.

Fredo's lips pressed into a thin line, eyes following the still shell shocked White Star.

Even though his ancient powers had all but destroyed this place. He still simply stood there as if he couldn't comprehend his baby had been taken from him.

Right from the safety of his arms.

Fredo hated seeing him like this.

On the other hand, Eruhaben's emotions were less evident.

He had lived long enough to know that Gods never meddle in mortals affairs. Unless they were their appointed saints, they simply don't make a spectacle of it.

This was the second time the ancient dragon had witnessed the same God act twice in one year and it was simply nothing but cruel.

The unlucky kid had just reached one year of age and yet already twice ripped away from his family.

Even Eruhaben felt that it was way too cruel for a God to do so.

But why?

Sure, the child's father was everything but ordinary. He knew that well enough.

To contain so many ancient powers and have so many lucky encounters, he's truly favoured by the devine.

Not to mention his standing on human society, fate truly likes this human.

Eruhaben even enjoys his company as well, as it brings him closer to his nephew and to also care for the young dragon egg that Callis keeps safe in his room.

The man was even generous enough to give him his own place here, Eruhaben didn't even need to search for find what he needs.

Fate clearly brought him here as his life slowly reaching its end just to care for those two young dragons and maybe...the two humans.

....maybe the dragon had a soft spot for them but no one is worthy to fault him on it.

So After the last incident, Eruhaben made sure that Callis had a small bracelet on him at all times.

It was created as a safeguard and obviously for hunting down his location if he ever got kidnapped again.

Which was obviously the right choice so why couldn't he sensed it?

No matter how far he spread his magic, there was nothing. Not even the faintest trace.

No, Goldie was not panicking.

Until his eyes caught something. There, lying cracked on the floor, was the bracelet he couldn't mistaken for another.

It was destroyed, and Eruhaben couldn't help but sigh.

He was truly too old for this.

'Unlucky brat.'

He was seconds away from cursing the gods themselves when something tugged at his senses—

Someone was outside of his lair, seeking access to it.

It was a dragon.

The timing was infuriating, yet impossible to ignore. Whoever it was wanted his attention and Eruhaben wasn't one to turn any dragon away especially who came seeking him out.

So even though he knew the time wasn't right, he decided to go.

Even if to clear his mind.

So when he appeared there, intending to greet his fellow kin, why was it that the first thing he saw was the unconscious body of his favourite human?

.....ah someone is about to get beaten up.

Chapter Text

The two stared at each other.

One clearly haggard, in puppy patterned pyjamas no less. Holding a redhead child with inexperienced hands and discomfort clear from a mile away.

The other dressed to the nines, long golden hair styled in braids with accessories all over the place. Clearly, said dragon was attending an important event.

Very handsome and shiny.

Eruhaben stared at the young gray dragon, Rasheel, holding his honourary child who had been kidnapped just moments ago by the bastard of a God on his own birthday party.

Goldie was clearly too old for this.

"You have one second to explain yourself, punk."

Rasheel froze, sweat beaded down his temple. He was never a coward! Always fought head on with zero fear for his life.

But right now, seeing the ancient dragon look at him with pure, murderous eyes, Rasheel feared that even if he put up a fight.

He won't survive.

It's alright though! He wasn't in the wrong, in fact he's a victim here! Once Eruhaben hears his reason everything will be fine.

Rasheel was positive.

"I— he well, It was an accident. I used Dragon Fear and—"

Eruhaben's eyes widened. "You what?!"

The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted it.

Because Rasheen didn't even see it happen. One second, he was standing. The next—BAM—his face met the dirt. Hard.

He blinked, growing. "Ow…What the hell—"

Confused, he tried to stand up. Clearly it was a mistake, no way he simply got hit like that.

The dragon didn't even realize that the child left his hold and was now being held by the other.

The poor guy didn't even get halfway up before his body jolted sideways, slamming into a tree.

"Fuck! Okay, ow ow OW." His stomach hurt so bad, he never knows a kick could be this painful.

'Why isn't he listening to me?!'

He tried to stand up again, raising an arm to surrender. "Just, ugh, listen to me—"

The world tilted, stopping him mid sentence. He landed hard on the ground, body twitching in pain.

Eruhaben didn't even bat an eye at him. Even though he was clearly kicking his ass, his focus was on the feverish baby in his arms.

Callis' skin was burning to the touch, his breaths uneven. Even his perfect clothes were ruined.

His child had suffered a lot.

"Breathe…" Eruhaben murmured, beautiful white fingers brushing away the strands of red hair on the child's forehead. "You are safe now."

Rasheel, bruised but still stupidly alive, sat up and raised his hands defensively. "I didn't mean to! The kid just appeared out of nowhere! I didn't even know there was a—"

WHACK.

Golden dust smacked him square in the face, sending him rolling several meters away across the snow.

"Do you even realize what you have done?!" Eruhaben's golden eyes shined, fury evident on his face. "He's weak you imbecile."

"But I didn't see him!!" Rasheel shouted. Why was he so unlucky? He just wanted to go back to sleep!. "You think I even bother with children."

He really should've stayed asleep.

Eruhaben's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Choose your words wisely."

"I will! If you just stop hitting—"

BAAM.

"STOP HITTING ME OLD MAN!!" Fuck, he swears Eruhaben did that out of pure spite.

And to be fair, he did. Goldie rarely got angry, and the poor dragon was simply at the wrong place and time.

One look at Callis' pale skin made his anger spike. Eruhaben wasn't stupid, he figured that the young dragon was kind of innocent. However, as his elder, he should teach him not to use Dragon Fear without checking his surroundings.

....Even though Dragons are prideful beings, a lesson or two shouldn't be a problem.

Rasheel, now fashioning an ugly purple bruise on his face, nose clearly broken, dragged his poor body and stood up to face the elder dragon.

Golden eyes met his and he had to hold back a flinch. Fuck, he knew Eruhaben was a monster in field but not like this.

He wasn't even trying!

...Get it together Rasheel, explain then leave.

Simple.

....even though his pride hurt more than his body, he had to do this.

Rasheel swallowed, choosing his next words wisely. Whenever he mentioned it being an accident, or even hint at it, he gets beaten up! Clearly, the dragon in front of him needed a better answer.

He opened his mouth and spoke.

"Look, I didn't know there was a damn baby in my lair! He just appeared! The elementals were screaming their heads off before I even woke up!"

It wasn't fair.

Rasheel was the victim here! I mean...sure the child did suffer, but the dragon only wanted to sleep.

Surely, Goldie could understand.

Eruhaben narrowed his eyes but said nothing, his attention briefly went back to the redhead infant. Callis' tiny fingers twitched, barely clinging to his sleeve like a frightened kitten.

He poked his cheek.

"...He just appeared, you say?" Was his child so unlucky that even the Gods are trying to separate him from his family? Fortunately, Callis was found much sooner than anticipated.

"That bastard of a God only knows how to throw this child away across the continent again."

"Exactly! Wait, again?" Rasheel asked, confusion colouring his now already very colourful face.

Also, since when did Dragons call Gods bastards?

Eruhaben didn't answer, simply turned around, adjusting his hold on Callis, and teleported away.

His honourary child needs medical attention after all.

Rasheel simply stood there, staring at the now empty space in front of him in silence.

Then, with all the grace of a Dragon who had been beaten to a pulp, he exhaled.

"Well, at least that went well."

'Baby safe?'

"—Fuck!" Rasheel jumped nearly three feet in the air, nearly screaming in shock. He whipped around, glaring daggers at the Elementals. "Don't EVER DO THAT again."

'We worried.' The Wind Elementals replied.

'Old gold scary!'

'Yeah! You went like WAAAH and he hit you!'

'Sobs, you ugly.'

"Shut up!" The dragon snapped at them. He's not ugly! He's never ugly!

He's the most handsome dragon ever!

The Elementals scattered instantly, giggling as they went, their voices fading as they go.

And the mountain once again fell quiet—save for one very irritated dragon who is questioning his life choices.

If only he stayed asleep.

There weren't many things Naru cared about.

Heck, before his father had basically begged the White Star to keep him alive, stopping him from eating the hearts of dragons just for a cursed plan only to effect his cursed lifespan in turn, and health even more. Naru wasn't allowed to care for anything.

Or anyone.

Affection was a weakness. Attachment was a chain binding him to useless things. That was what he'd been taught.

And yet.

His first ever guilt came when he'd been ordered to separate the twin dragon eggs. One left to live, one to die for their plans. He'd done it with his own trembling hands.

The sound of that lil beating heart still haunted him.

He'd told himself it was mercy, forced himself to live his days with nightmares of that day but for what?

In the end, he had still done that.

And now, he had been atoning ever since, caring for the surviving egg as though it were the fragile heart he had once destroyed.

And that was only possible because of Callis.

Naru remembered the long nights when the two of them had sneaked out together, He'd guide the younger through his first steps, watching tiny legs wobble and fall, tiny lil hands reach out for him with pure trust.

A smile bright like no other.

Naru could never forget the way his favourite and only cousin had looked up at him those nights, with clear, innocent eyes filled with nothing but affection the half blood didn't think he'll ever deserve.

If he knew what he had done, will he forgive him?

Will he still look up to him like that?

It was only a matter of time before he obeyed every one of his wishes.

How else could he atone for the cursed life he is living?

'Callis.'

The same precious boy whose birthday had been ruined by that bastard of a God.

Naru's jaw clenched. His hand tightened around the ribbon he'd been untying from the wall.

One day... one day, he will grow strong enough to kill that bastard. To make him pay for touching even a strand of Callis' hair.

He exhaled slowly, trying to steady the ache in his chest. The once shiny, perfect hall was now turned to ruins. The decorations he had spent hours perfecting by hand now became nothing but ash in the hands of his liege.

And who'll fault him?

No one.

Not even Naru who had watched the young redhead disappear from the arms of his own father.

He crouched down to gather the decorations that weren't ruined, Naru didn't want anyone to take his lil creations from him.

Even if they were trashed.

As he continued collecting his precious work, well... What's left of it, a hand landed gently on his head.

Naru froze, was he so distracted that he couldn't even feel the presence of someone get near him let alone touch him?

he looked up, and there he was.

"Father."

Fredo smiled faintly, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "You're still here."

If Naru was stupid, which he isn't by the way!, he'll miss out the worried look on Fredo's eyes.

It was obvious that the kidnapping of their young prince had affected him too.

Well, he wasn't one so heartless to point it out.

"I wanted to clean up," Naru muttered, not bothering to explain more. He didn't look up again, his hands busy untangling the piece of decorations that refused to come loose.

Fredo's hand stayed in place, if not playing with few strands. "You don't have to."

"I do."

Fredo stayed quiet for a while, just watching his son's hands tremble as he worked. Clearly he's hardly keeping himself together right now.

Not like he can fault him.

Still, Fredo never liked seeing him like this. So, with a quiet sigh, he crouched down beside him.

He got nothing better to do after all.

"Hey..."

Naru didn't spare him a glance, "I said I'm fine."

"I didn't ask if you were," Fredo said simply.

Before his son could argue, Fredo reached out and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him gently into a side hug. "He'll be alright, Naru," he whispered, "One way or another, lil Highness always finds a way back."

Naru's shoulders tensed…wanting nothing more but to agree.

He wasn't stupid, Callis always came back.

But what if...

"...You don't know that," he argued, his voice breaking. "He's just a baby! He's weak and could hardly even walk a few steps! What if he—"

"He'll be fine, trust me." And what could Naru do? He couldn't say anything after that.

His Father never lied to him.

So he just leaned sideways, letting himself fall into Fredo'ls embrace like he used to when he first stayed with him.

Fredo didn't hesitate this time. He shifted, wrapping both arms fully around his son and pulling him close. Naru was shaking, not crying to be exact but even that wasn't something the Vampire wished to see.

"Shh," Fredo whispered, resting a hand on the back of Naru's head. "Callis will be back soon. You'll see."

Naru didn't answer, but the tightness in his grip on Fredo's cloak said enough.

If Fredo ever wished for a God to die, it'll be now. Never had he imagined to see his son in such a state.

That bastard will pay for everything.

Still, Fredo quite enjoyed this moment with his son. They rarely had time lately after all.

'Maybe I should take him out sometime, Naru does have a sweet tooth so maybe a—'

"What are you two doing?"

Both of them awkwardly froze.

Fredo blinked, slowly raising his head at Eruhaben. Yes, of course he knew it was him.

Who else will end such a beautiful moment and ruin his day further?

Purple eyes wondered till he saw that familiar shade of red.

'Is that—'

"If you two are done," Eruhaben spoke, raising an elegant brow at them. "Help me get a doctor. This unlucky child ran into trouble again."

'What the actual fuck?!'

Chapter Text

Callis knew he was dreaming.

No, more like reliving a memory.

It was from before he was Callis, back when he was nothing more than a nameless child at the Henituse estate. Before his father ever found him, before he knew what parental love felt like.

Kim Rok Soo had just gotten the hang of the infant routine by then. Eat, sleep, repeat.

A perfect slacker's dream, and as a slacker at heart, it was perfect.

Embarrassingly enough, as the infant that he was, crying was the only way he could communicate.

But even then, he used it sparingly. Babies, after all, didn't get a say to what their bodies wanted. And if his body needed something, fine he'll cry.

Doesn't mean he totally didn't feel embarrassed about it.

Still, he had learned quickly to use it to his advantage—at least, to sleep extra more right after.

But this memory was different.

It was the day he met his twin for the first time.

Back then, he didn't know his brother's name at the time. Was he nameless like him? He couldn't help but wonder how this new life would turn out with a brother by his side.

For reasons unknown to him, they were separated for a while. And if there was a reason behind it, he didn't care to question it back then.

Because Kim Rok Soo didn't know he was a twin at that point.

Currently, Our baby redhead was being carried by maids who were excitedly chattering together and cooing as they walked.

He was wrapped carefully in a soft blanket and had that stupidly adorable baby hat on his head.

It was ridiculous, honestly. The thing had little lace frills on the sides, and one of the maids had tied it so tightly under his chin that he could barely move. He remembered hating it even then.

The maids, however, were over the moon.

"I can't believe they're finally meeting!" one whispered, her voice nearly trembling with excitement.

"I know, right? Poor beans had to wait so long. But just imagine how adorable they'll look together!" another replied, clasping her hands dramatically as they made their way down the hall.

"Oh, the young masters will surely get along. You can just feel it!" The maid in the lead said, barely keeping her voice down to not disturb the baby in her arms.

"Ah, I hope the first young master doesn't cry again this time. Our madam was quite worried after the last incident." Her words were followed by a sigh which made the rest of the maids chuckle.

"Oh, I'm sure it's fine! It's normal for infants to cry, I'm pretty sure he'll grow splendidly."

Their laughter was light, but Callis remembered being quite annoyed by it.

He was trying to sleep and their chatter didn't help at all!

Soon, they stopped before a large cradle. The maids adjusted his blanket one last time, smoothing out wrinkles that didn't even exist, before lowering him into the gently beside another baby.

And there he was.

His twin.

Small, bundled, and sleeping soundly. A tuft of reddish hair sticking up at odd angles. His little nose scrunched slightly now and then, clearly not satisfied by whatever he's dreaming about.

It was at that moment that Kim Rok Soo realized that he was not alone in this world.

He had a brother.

Without thinking, he reached out, tiny fingers brushing the other baby's hand as if to check if the redhead beside him was real.

The maids collectively melted.

"Ohhh, look at them! They're holding hands already!"

"Ah! Isn't that just the sweetest thing? I'm going to faint!"

"Quick, someone bring a painter! This moment must be immortalized for all to see!"

Kim Rok Soo mentally sighed, Adults.

Still… he didn't let go.

It was the first time he had an actual sibling, not to say that the Soos were any less—

It was then that when he finally decided to take a better look at his brother, he saw two reddish brown eyes staring right back at him.

It was clear that the infant was dazed, perhaps still asleep. However, the baby beside him blinked once, then twice.

Only for his face to bloom into the most radiant, innocent smile our redhead had ever laid his eyes on in his life.

The baby's cheek was puffed, lips stretching wide with pure innocent delight.

In the background, the maids squealed. They coo'd and awe'd but all that faded into the background.

If anything, it felt like time had stopped.

All Kim Rok Soo could do was stare in silence, heart beating faster than he had to admit as he felt his face heat up in a matter of seconds.

Before he knew it, a deep, burning flush creeped across his cheeks for all the world to see.

And if anyone dared to comment on how he held that tiny lil hand tighter, well... they saw nothing. And if they valued their treasury, they'd pretend they didn't.

Thankfully, his new brother had fallen back to sleep before he saw that embarrassing—totally did not happen—scene.

When his brother's breathing evened out into soft snores, Kim Rok Soo found himself watching quietly.

With how peaceful he looked, our redhead couldn't help but close his eyes as well.

Truly, even without his Record forcing him to relive this memory, Callis knew that he'll never forget that smile for the rest of his life.

Because losing it, would hurt so much more.

Callis woke up in pain.

His vision was blurry and for a moment, he couldn't remember where he was or what had happened.

It was difficult to breathe.

Tears silently fell down his cheeks before he could stop them, one moment he was blowing a candle then the next... he was suffocating.

Kim Rok Soo was no stranger to pain.
But even if his mind could endure it, his small body could not.

In his half conscious state, he barely noticed a hand brushing against his forehead until it had gently covered his vision.

"Sleep, it'll be over soon."

Even through the haze of pain and exhaustion, he will always recognise that voice.

'Father.'

The moment he realized it, something inside him eased. His chest didn't hurt as much anymore.

It was strange, even with all the pain he's feeling at this moment, simply hearing his voice made him feel... Safe.

And if at this moment Callis felt small and fragile, like a child letting themselves lean on a parent when they were desperately seeking their love, he didn't comment on it.

Our redhead learnt that it's okay to be vulnerable in the presence of his dad.

His silly, but awkward single parent was after all, the only person who could make him feel this way.

So, even though he's in pain, he trusted that he'll be safe.

He closed his eyes and relaxed, hoping for this to be over soon like his father had promised.

Callis hated pain after all.

The White star watched as his son calmed down and slept again in a matter of seconds. His hand drifted away from Callis' eyes, brushing the faint traces of tears from his cheeks.

Eruhaben was there, as usual. He had taken our redhead's room as his main resting area so of course he came uninvited.

Sue him, he liked how shiny it was.

Golden eyes watched the short interaction between the two, silently questioning why his favourite human was so unlucky.

Still, he had to set his priorities straight.

Tap. Tap.

Eruhaben tapped the very luxurious chair that may or may not look like a throne with his finger.

Why was there a throne inside a child's bedroom? Who knows. Don't ask me, I'm just writing this.

"I still don't agree with your plans," Eruhaben said, deciding that it's time to share his view on this. "But I will not stop you."

It was... interesting, seeing a human declare war on the Gods. However, that does not mean he'll offer his services because of that.

White Star ignored him entirely, covering his son tightly and placing the little turtle plushie beside him where it belonged. He didn't care that the ancient dragon was watching his every move.

"I don't need your approval," Eruhaben found that the way the redhead met his gaze with empty eyes  fascinating. "This Bastard will learn what it means to touch what's mine."

Eruhaben raised a brow, studying the man as he simply stood and walked away, leaving the words hanging in the air.

'Tsk, this punk has a difficult life if you think about it.'

Goldie had learned a lot in the past year.

Truly, he only stayed around this far mostly because of his nephew Naru, and, of course, to check up on his favourite human every once in a while.

It was only a matter of coincidence that he learned the human's heritage, and that his own father was the last of the Dragon slayer's family.

He wondered if fate had cursed their bloodline since the young child seemed to get involved in all types of trouble before he could even walk.

And a God was the source of all that.

Of course, Eruhaben did not know that it was not an act of fate but the God was only trying to help return Callis to his actual family and that White Star sort of stole him and instantly claimed the baby as his.

...though the curse was very much real, but it was also innocent in this!

There was no way the ancient dragon would ever know that, nor the fact that Naru wasn't actually his friend's son.

Eruhaben, who had fallen deep into a deep rabbit hole of misunderstandings that would never be fixed, let out a sigh and shook his head.

Next to him, was an equally luxurious small bed for the black egg to rest on.

He had taken the duty of caring for it during his stay here. Eruhaben would've preferred taking it to his lair but decided against it.

The egg was quite attached to the child right now.

The blond dragon patted the egg's shell gently, feeling the young hatchling's rapid emotions and distress.

"He'll be fine," Eruhaben gently informed the young dragon growing inside the egg. "We are all taking care of him."

The egg wobbled, almost like it was complaining.

Eruhaben chuckled softly, shaking his head. He could already imagine that the young dragon will become a handful once it hatches.

He poked it gently, watching it roll on the soft bedding.

Although the ancient dragon doesn't know what fate had installed for him in these last few years of his life, but he'll keep watch and see.

It's not like he has anything else to do these days.

Meanwhile, somewhere far from where the mortal eyes could see.

Pained groans echoed through the God of Death's office, ignoring the already scattered papers and the disaster of an office it has become, one could tell that someone had barged in, furious and clearly not invited.

Leaving one unfortunate God who currently curled up on the floor, clutching his head to deal with their fury.

"Oi! How many times do I have to tell you—don't harm my dongsaeng!"

Thwack.

Another strike landed, this time with a wooden broom of questionable origin.

"I didn't mean to! It was an accident!" the God of Death wheezed, dodging barely in time before the second broom came swinging.

It wasn't like he couldn't defend himself, he simply rather not! Last time he tried, he was faced with hell like no other.

So if he retaliates, it'll only get worse.

"Accident, my ass!" Choi Jung Soo all but swung the now broken broom up the God's head.

Lee Soo Hyuk was no less merciful, he too was pissed about what the bastard had done to his beloved dongsaeng!

What kind of hyungs would they be if they couldn't seek justice for him!

Baam!

"Augh! I'm sorry—"

One of the bystanders decided to quietly close the door shut, and pretend that their boss wasn't getting beaten up inside of his own office.

No one wanted to face the duo's wrath.