Chapter Text
The first thing people noticed about Duennao was his silence. The second thing they noticed was that he always helped them anyway.
His magic shop sat at the end of a narrow street that most people accidentally walked past. The sign above the old wooden door was faded, the windows were covered with strange herbs and hanging charms, and the bell above the entrance only rang for those who truly needed to enter.
At least, that was what Duennao told people.
The truth was simpler.
The shop only opened for those he wanted to help.
At twenty-three years old, Duennao was already considered a talented witch by those who knew his name. His abilities stretched far beyond ordinary magic. He could heal wounds with a whispered spell, create protective charms strong enough to stop dark creatures, and read the lingering traces of magic left behind by people and objects.
But the fewer people who knew about him, the better.
The Witch Council had eyes everywhere.
They claimed to protect magical society, but Duennao knew better than anyone that power made people greedy. The Council liked collecting talented witches, shaping them into tools, and deciding what they could and could not do.
Duennao wanted no part of that.
So he kept his head down.
He managed his shop.
He brewed potions.
He sold enchanted objects.
He fed his cat who had somehow adopted him and now ruled his home like tiny, furry king.
And he pretended that he didn’t care about anyone.
The customers disagreed.
“You’re cold-hearted,” an old woman once told him while he repaired her broken protection necklace.
Duennao didn’t look up from his work.
“I am.”
The woman laughed.
“You fixed it for free.”
“Because you looked pathetic.”
“You also gave me medicine for my arthritis.”
“You were limping.”
“You walked me home in the rain.”
Duennao paused.
“…You were old.”
The woman only smiled.
Everyone knew his excuses were terrible.
Duennao could act distant all he wanted, but kindness was something he could never erase from himself.
It was simply part of who he was.
And that was exactly why trouble always found him.
The night North appeared at his shop, Duennao immediately knew something was wrong.
The bell above the door rang three times.
Not once.
Not twice.
Three times.
A warning.
Duennao looked up from his book.
The magical barrier around his shop had reacted.
Someone dangerous had entered.
His fingers immediately moved toward the hidden dagger beneath the counter.
Then the door opened.
And a boy stumbled inside.
A very loud, very injured boy.
“PLEASE HELP ME!”
Duennao stared.
The boy froze.
The room became quiet.
The boy looked around awkwardly.
“…I mean.”
He lowered his voice dramatically.
“Please help me.”
Duennao blinked.
This was the person his barrier considered dangerous?
The boy had messy hair, bright eyes, and round cheeks that made him look far too harmless. His clothes were torn, his face was covered in dirt, and his entire body shimmered faintly with silver-green magic.
A Sylph.
An air spirit.
But not just any Sylph.
Duennao could see the curse immediately.
Dark magic wrapped around the boy’s soul like chains.
Impossible.
Ancient.
Dangerous.
The boy noticed Duennao staring.
“Are you the witch everyone talks about?”
“No.”
“You are.”
“No.”
“You’re definitely the witch.”
Duennao sighed.
“I should have put up a sign.”
The boy smiled.
“You have one.”
“Then you can’t read.”
“I can read.”
“Clearly not.”
The boy laughed.
And for some reason, Duennao found himself staring.
Because he couldn’t remember the last time someone laughed inside his shop.
Most people came frightened.
Desperate.
Broken.
Nobody came smiling.
“What is your name?” Duennao asked.
The boy straightened.
“North.”
“Duennao.”
“I know.”
Duennao narrowed his eyes.
“How?”
North suddenly became quieter.
“My pack has been searching for you.”
That immediately changed everything.
Duennao’s expression hardened.
A pack.
He knew exactly what that meant.
A group bonded by loyalty and magic.
And packs attracted attention.
Especially powerful ones.
Before he could ask more questions, the door opened again.
This time, the entire room shook.
A man stepped inside.
Tall.
Cold.
Powerful.
The kind of person who made even Duennao’s instincts warn him.
Behind him stood several others.
A red wolf with a calm expression.
A tiny fairy hiding nervously behind him.
A quiet vampire.
A gentle Luminary.
A black wolf with a sharp gaze.
A clairvoyant who looked like he already knew everyone’s secrets.
And another wolf who stood silently beside him.
The final person entered last.
Dragon blood.
Duennao immediately recognized it.
Rare.
Ancient.
Dangerous.
The dragon-blooded man looked at North.
“Sylph.”
North immediately smiled.
“Suer!”
Duennao raised an eyebrow.
The dragon-blooded man looked embarrassed.
“My pack calls me Tiger.”
North grinned.
“But I call you Suer.”
Tiger sighed.
“You are the only one allowed.”
Duennao noticed something.
The strongest-looking people in the room softened around North.
Not much.
But enough.
They cared about him.
The cold Alpha stepped forward. “I am Johan.”
His eyes studied Duennao carefully.
“North was cursed.”
“I noticed.”
“We heard you might be able to remove it.”
Duennao crossed his arms.
“Might?”
The clairvoyant beside him spoke.
“He will.”
Everyone looked at him.
Daotok shrugged.
“I saw it.”
“You could have warned us before making it sound dramatic,” Tonfah said.
“I enjoy watching people panic.”
“You are impossible.”
“I know.”
Duennao looked between them.
A strange group.
A powerful group.
A group that clearly had been through something together.
And now they were standing inside his quiet little shop asking him to get involved.
“No.”
The room went silent.
North blinked.
“No?”
“No.”
“But you can help me.”
“Yes.”
“Then why won’t you?”
Duennao looked away.
Because helping him meant getting involved.
Getting involved meant being noticed.
Being noticed meant the Council.
And the Council meant losing the quiet life he had built.
“I don’t involve myself in other people’s problems.”
North looked hurt.
For a moment, Duennao almost regretted it.
Almost.
Then North smiled sadly.
“Okay.”
That was worse.
Duennao hated that.
He hated that the boy didn’t argue.
Didn’t demand.
Didn’t complain.
He simply accepted rejection.
Like he was used to people leaving.
Duennao looked at the curse again.
A curse this strong wasn’t created randomly.
Someone wanted North.
Someone wanted his magic.
Someone wanted him gone.
His fingers tightened.
“Damn it.”
Everyone looked at him.
Duennao sighed.
“Sit down.”
North’s eyes brightened.
“You’ll help?”
“No.”
Everyone stared.
Duennao pointed at him.
“I will remove the curse.”
North smiled.
“That’s helping.”
“It is not.”
“It definitely is.”
“Be quiet.”
“You sound like you care.”
“I don’t.”
Tiger looked amused.
Johan looked suspicious.
Tonfah smiled slightly.
Daotok raised an eyebrow.
“Interesting.”
Duennao frowned.
“What?”
“You just let a stranger annoy you.”
“So?”
“You usually threaten people after three sentences.”
“I still might.”
North immediately sat down.
“Can I stay?”
“No.”
“Can I visit?”
“No.”
“Can I bring snacks?”
Duennao paused.
“…What kind?”
North smiled.
And somehow, that was the moment everything changed.
Not because of the curse.
Not because of the magic.
But because for the first time in years, Duennao’s quiet shop was filled with voices.
Laughter.
Arguments.
Concern.
Life.
He had always believed family was something that happened to other people.
Something he didn’t need.
He had his cats.
His books.
His magic.
That was enough.
But as North fell asleep safely on his couch, surrounded by a pack who clearly loved him, Duennao found himself watching them.
The way Johan quietly placed a blanket over North.
The way Tiger checked his temperature.
The way Tonfah prepared medicine without being asked.
The way everyone looked out for each other.
Maybe family didn’t always have to be something you were born into.
Maybe sometimes it was something that found you. Even if you tried very hard to avoid it.
Duennao looked at the sleeping Sylph.
Then at the group waiting for him.
He sighed.
On the wooden shelf above his desk, a black cat opened one golden eye.
Dan.
His familiar.
Unlike ordinary cats, Dan was not just a pet. He had been bound to Duennao through an ancient familiar contract when Duennao was still in the Academy. He had seen every secret Duennao buried, every person he pushed away, and every kindness he pretended was an accident.
Dan flicked his tail.
“You are staring.”
Duennao didn’t look at him.
“I am thinking.”
“You are worrying.”
“I am not.”
“You took in a cursed stranger.”
“Temporary.”
“You gave him your strongest healing potion.”
“He needed it.”
“You allowed a group of powerful magical beings into your home.”
Duennao frowned.
“They were already inside.”
Dan jumped down from the shelf and landed gracefully on the counter.
The cat looked at North sleeping peacefully.
Then back at Duennao.
“You like them.”
“No.”
“You like him.”
“No.”
Dan cleaned his paw.
“You are terrible at lying.”
Duennao ignored him.
That was the problem with having a familiar.
Dan knew him too well.
For years, Duennao had lived alone.
Not because he hated people.
Because people were dangerous.
People asked questions.
People noticed things.
People eventually left.
Dan was different.
Dan stayed.
Even when Duennao was difficult.
Even when he locked himself away.
Even when he convinced himself that he didn’t need anyone.
But now there was North.
And his pack.
And somehow, against all logic, Duennao had a feeling they weren’t leaving either.
A pair of eyes judging him.
“You’re impossible.”
The cat blinked.
Duennao looked away.
“Fine.”
He muttered.
“Maybe one more person won’t ruin everything.”
Outside, hidden from everyone, a dark magical symbol appeared on the wall across the street.
Someone had found the witch who was supposed to remain invisible.
And someone was very interested in the cursed Sylph.
Duennao didn’t know it yet.
But saving North would not be the last time he protected this strange group.
It would be the beginning of the first family he never expected to have.