"Master, I brought your breakfast." A single knock sounded before the door opened.
"Thank you, Amarila," I said as she entered and set the tray neatly on the table.
I have strict rules—no food or drinks on the desk where important documents are kept. Everything has its place, and everything must remain in that place. If even one item is misplaced… god, do I lose my calm in a heartbeat.
"You could have slept a little," she said gently. "I know how you are, and you still haven't changed yet."
I could have changed. I didn't need to wear my uniform today, as there was no need to wear it as I went over the documents. And yet here I am, dressed as if it's the most natural thing in the world.
"I'm comfortable," I replied, standing. "Tell Kerrigan I want the reports in the afternoon."
"I'll let him know," she said before bowing slightly and leaving.
While we ate, my gaze drifted to the window. Sunlight flooded the room, warm and bright, painting the stone walls in gold. The atmosphere felt different lately, lighter, calmer. Peaceful. I only hoped I could keep it that way in the days to come.
"Master, we want to go outside," Lux announced suddenly.
"But I have work to finish," I reminded him, "and I need to hear the reports this afternoon."
"We want to go out and play," he insisted. "Alone."
I blinked. "You…want to go out and play alone. Alone," I repeated, emphasizing the word.
Letting them roam the academy grounds or the Abyss Forest had been one thing, I knew every corner, every danger. But here in Luton? I wasn't sure they could handle it on their own. Did they even know how to use money properly? And the bigger question: could they polymorph properly?
"I can tell what you're thinking," Nox said dryly. "It's written all over your face. I can take them. That way you can finish your work."
Lux and Frore both turned their eyes on me—those pleading, shimmering, impossibly cute eyes. I swear they weaponize their cuteness on purpose. And since Nox was going with them, I could actually breathe. He was more powerful than both of them combined; he could keep them in line. And I wouldn't have to send them with someone from the guild.
"Alright," I sighed. "You can go. But first show me your polymorph. Only then will I let you two leave… and give you allowance."
Their eyes sparkled like stars.
I sighed internally. Why must they be this cute? It's unfair.
"Properly. No half-formed ears. No tails poking out. And absolutely no wings."
"Of course!" Lux announced proudly, puffing out his little chest like he was about to perform on the world's grandest stage.
"I can polymorph," Frore added in a low rumble. "I've been doing it for centuries."
I didn't doubt him, dragons polymorph as naturally as they breathe. It should've been simple.
Should have.
Lux went first. He took a dramatic inhalation, squeezed his eyes shut, and with a sparkle of light, shifted smoothly into his human form. A small boy appeared, bouncing on his heels with the same bright eyes and that same trouble-making grin.
"Ta-da!" he declared, spinning in a circle as if waiting for applause.
I inspected him closely. Ears? Human. No scales. No stray glow. No accidental horns poking through his hair.
"Alright," I said. "You did well."
Lux beamed like he'd won an award.
Then Frore stepped forward.
He took a breath, magic swirling around him with the gravity of centuries of experience. Light rippled across his form, majestic, refined, ancient…
…and when it faded, a tiny ten-year-old girl stood there.
With long hair the exact icy blue of his scales.
There was a full second of silence.
Then I broke.
I burst out laughing so hard I had to grab the desk for support. Nox doubled over beside me, wheezing as he pointed at Frore.
"Stop laughing—It's not funny." Frore snapped, voice high-pitched and mortified. But coming from a ten-year-old girl, it only made everything funnier.
Nox tried to breathe but failed spectacularly. "The mighty… frost… dragon… polymorphs as a little girl—!"
That set me off again. We laughed for a solid ten minutes. Frore's tiny foot stomped on the floor with adorable fury, which only made it worse.
Finally, when I regained control of my lungs, I handed them their allowance pouches.
"Alright, listen carefully," I said, straightening my expression. "You both will listen to Nox. You will do what he tells you. I do not want to hear about any chaos, incidents, explosions, accidental transformations, or market-wide panics. If you cause even one ruckus, I won't let you two out of my sight for the rest of our stay. Understood?"
Lux nodded quickly. Frore, still a girl crossed her arms in solemn agreement.
"We'll be good," they said in unison.
"Good. Now go. Have fun."
Lux sprinted out instantly. Frore huffed, swishing his long blue hair dramatically as he followed. Nox shot me a playful and reassuring smile before jogging after them.
Silence returned to my office as the echoes of their footsteps faded.
I exhaled and sat back down, picking up my quill again.
And before I knew it…
It was already afternoon.
By the time the sun had shifted past its peak, the soft golden light of afternoon spilt through my office windows, warming the wooden floor and softening the room's edges. The steady scratch of my quill, the shuffle of parchment, the quiet ticking of the clock everything settled into a calm rhythm. It felt almost peaceful.
Almost.
A knock sounded at the door.
"Master, it's Kerrigan," a familiar voice called.
"Enter," I said, setting my paperwork aside.
Kerrigan stepped in, tall and composed as always, he bowed slightly before taking his usual seat across from me. He carried a stack of reports, and from the thickness alone, I could already feel the headache forming.
"You asked for the updates," he said. "Shall we begin?"
I nodded.
He started with the port activity, then trade statistics, then the security updates from the northern watchtower. His voice was calm, professional, steady, everything you want from a dependable second-in-command.
But my attention drifted for a moment.
Outside the window, I caught sight of a group of children laughing on the street below. For a fleeting moment, I wondered if Lux and Frore were among them, knowing Nox… he was probably instigating the chaos instead of preventing it.
"Master?" Kerrigan prompted, noticing my brief spacing out.
"I'm listening," I said, folding my hands. "Continue."
He continued with the situation involving the western merchants, and I listened, responding automatically, clarifying details, issuing orders, and adjusting plans. This routine had become second nature to me; I could do it half-asleep and still handle things perfectly.
But the next part required more thought.
"What about the trade with the Eastern Region?" I asked, leaning back slightly. "They requested reinforcements, didn't they?"
Kerrigan's expression tightened. "Yes. Monsters have been behaving abnormally more aggressively, more coordinated. Entire villages and border towns have been destroyed. They first sought help from neighbouring territories, but everyone refused them. Only then did they turn to us."
Typical. No one wants responsibility until the crisis starts swallowing their borders whole.
"What do you think we should do?" I tapped my finger on the table. Refusing them won't hurt us directly… but it could damage our secondary trade routes.
Kerrigan didn't answer; he knew this was my call.
I already had my answer.
If I accepted, they would owe me deeply. And debts owed to me were never forgotten.
"Send the Mad Dogs," I ordered. "Tell them: kill everything on sight except humans."
Kerrigan's brows rose slightly, but he nodded without objection. "Understood."
He moved on to the next topic. "Now… regarding the illegal smuggling of fairy wings. Our spies have reported another operation."
My eyes twitched. "Again? How many times has this happened now?"
"Counting this year alone, this will be the fifth incident."
Unbelievable.
Fairies truly had the worst luck in the human realm. The moment one fluttered out of their sanctuaries, poachers pounced like vultures. You'd think after many incidents they'd learn, but no.
"Deal with it however the team sees fit," I said. "Strengthen security. And I'll send another letter to the Queen. Again."
Kerrigan flipped to the next page of his report. "The next item: status of the commercial sector development you ordered."
"What's the update?"
"It's in its final stages. If everything stays on schedule, it should open within the next month."
Good. That project alone would triple our trade appeal and bring Luton to another level entirely.
"And the last item on today's agenda," he continued carefully, "Is that the citizens are requesting an audience with you. They wish to voice complaints… and also express their gratitude to their lord."
I blinked. "Complaint? About what?"
I don't remember giving them anything to complain about. Ever since I became Luton's lord, I've poured myself into improving every measurable aspect of their lives: security, the economy, trade routes, sanitation, even the smallest details of their day-to-day living standards. By every reasonable metric, things should be better than ever. So what could they possibly—
I caught myself and let out a slow, tight breath. It doesn't matter what I think they should feel. Perception has never bowed to logic, and people have a way of finding cracks even in newly built walls. Besides, I can't keep ignoring them, not when this entire arrangement was my bright idea. I was the one who first suggested we hold these gatherings "once in a blue moon," thinking it would be a harmless tradition, a way to stay connected. I didn't imagine it would one day become something I dreaded.
Now that very suggestion has come back to bite me, a quiet reminder that good intentions don't protect you from the weight of responsibility… or from the expectations that grow in the shadows of your own accomplishments. A faint, unwelcome regret settled in my chest, regret that despite everything I've done, it still somehow isn't enough.
"Fine," I sighed at last. "I'll see them." I pressed my fingers to the bridge of my nose, hoping to ease the tension brewing there. "And Kerrigan?"
"Yes, Master?" he replied, already looking nervous.
"How many of them want to complain?"
He hesitated, then adjusted his glasses in that way he always does when he's preparing bad news.
"…More than a few, I'm afraid."
I closed my eyes for a heartbeat. Wonderful.
I had underestimated Kerrigan severely. I thought the audience with the citizens would be done by dinner.
I was wrong.
Very wrong.
Those "more than a few" complaints multiplied like hydra heads but one down and three more appeared. Gratitude? Endless. The whining? Infinite. It felt like a dam had burst and drowned me under a tidal wave of unnecessary emotions and bizarre issues.
By the time it finally ended, I slumped onto the long sofa in my office, letting my head fall back.
"I don't want to hear a single word from anyone anymore," I mumbled, eyes closed, soul ascending. "Not. One. Word."
I think barely a minute passed before my office door slammed open with the force of a storm.
I didn't bother opening my eyes.
"Who is it now?" I yelled. "I clearly said I don't wish to be disturbed!"
"Even us?" came Nox's voice.
Then—WHUMP—all three of them jumped onto me at once. Lux landed on my stomach. Frore ended up sprawled over my legs. Nox dropped dramatically onto the sofa arm, as if he were fainting.
Only then did I open my eyes.
I couldn't help it, I giggled. "Never you."
Nox flicked my forehead. "So? What got you so cranky?"
"You won't believe what I endured today," I groaned. "But first—what did you three do? You were out all day long."
Instant guilt.
I narrowed my eyes. "What did you do?"
"Nothing! We did nothing!" they said in perfect unison.
"As if I believe that," I deadpanned. "Tell me while I'm asking nicely."
They exchanged glances, three criminals deciding if they should confess.
Finally, Nox sighed and raised his hand like a student giving an answer.
"Someone tried to kidnap Lux and Frore."
I shot upright. "WHAT—?! Who dared attempt kidnapping in my territory? What the hell were the guards doing?!"
Lux flinched. Frore froze. Even Nox winced.
I exhaled sharply, forcing down the rage boiling in my chest.
I need to calm down. Getting furious won't help.
But the guards are definitely getting a surprise inspection tomorrow…
"Don't go overboard," Nox warned.
I smirked. "When have I ever?"
"All the time," he answered immediately.
I waved him off. "Anyway—I told you what happened. Now it's your turn.
"You won't believe the kind of complaints I heard today."
I lay back down on the sofa, and they all leaned in eagerly.
"First," I said, "an old woman complained that the roads are too smooth."
Lux blinked. "Too smooth?"
"She said she can't fake tripping anymore to skip her daily walk."
Frore snorted. Nox choked.
"And then," I continued, "a man complained that thieves can't steal his money anymore because of our patrols. He said his wife now thinks he's secretly wasting all of it."
Nox burst out laughing. Lux rolled on the sofa, giggling uncontrollably.
"Oh, and the teenage girl," I added, pointing at them dramatically. "tried to get my sympathy because the curfew is ruining her love life."
"What did you say to her?" Frore asked.
"That if she breaks the curfew, I'll break her instead."
Nox wiped tears from laughing. "You didn't."
"I did," I said proudly. "And she left immediately."
Lux fell off the sofa.
"And then," I continued, warming up now, "I got attacked with gratitude. One family thanked me for fixing their lives. A fisherman thanked me for reviving the port. A baker thanked me for lowering his taxes. A random man thanked me for 'saving his marriage.'"
"What did you do for his marriage?" Frore asked.
"I have no idea," I replied.
Frore wheezed.
"And someone gave me a fish," I added gloomily.
Lux was now crying from laughter.
Nox slid closer, patting my head. "You did well today."
Lux curled at my side. Frore rested against my legs.
Warm. Comfortable. Safe.
All four of us snuggled together on the sofa, the chaos of the day fading into a gentle hum around us.
As my eyes grew heavy, I whispered, "Today was exhausting…"
And I drifted into sleep surrounded by the three beings who made everything chaos, exhaustion, and petty complaints feel strangely bearable.
Day Two.
I was drowning—no, buried alive in a mountain range of documents. Paper Apocalypse. A cursed landscape where every form I signed spawned three more like some administrative hydra.
Even though I'd already diverted most documents to be handled at the academy, the stack here refused to shrink. I approved, I stamped, I signed, I scribbled notes, and yet…
Nothing changed.
It was like fighting an immortal enemy.
"My hands are hurting," I muttered, massaging my wrist. I have excellent stamina, but sitting and reading documents requires an entirely different type of endurance. Mental strength. Soul strength. Something I was clearly lacking.
"I'm so tired," I groaned dramatically, letting my forehead fall onto the papers.
"Then take a break," Nox said lazily.
Easy for him to say who refused to even look at a tenth of the documents I asked to review, I looked, narrowing my eyes at him.
All three of them—Lux, Nox, and Frore had been sprawled across the carpet since morning, forming a lazy triangle of chaos. They'd cycled through three bags of snacks already. Frosted biscuits. Chips. Chocolate, you name it they ate it. Lux even had a bowl of grapes he was flicking into the air and catching with his mouth like a seal at a circus.
None of them moved except to reach for more food.
Nox stretched, long and luxurious, like a cat sunning itself on a balcony. "I'll help you," he said, voice dripping with insincerity, "but I'm busy sunbathing right now."
"Sunbathing," I repeated flatly.
We were indoors.
There was no sunbeam.
He had dragged a glowing crystal lamp next to him and set it to warm mode.
He adjusted his sunglasses.
Lux nodded seriously. "He needs his vitamin D."
"He's literally made of shadows!" I snapped.
Nox sighed with tragic elegance.
I stared at them.
They stared back.
A biscuit slid off Lux's chest.
I exhaled. "I'd show all of you what suffering truly is… if I didn't have to leave for inspection in a bit."
Nox smirked. "So violent when you're tired."
Lux offered me a grape.
Frore held up a cookie like a peace treaty.
I buried my face in my hands.
I dragged another stack of documents toward me, mentally preparing for my upcoming inspection, while the three of them continued their snack-filled relaxation ritual like divine beings untouched by mortal burdens.
At this point, I wasn't sure if they were helping my stress…or were the cause of it.
—
The academy had been unbelievably quiet and peaceful ever since that witch disappeared. Honestly, I had no idea where she'd gone and I didn't care. All that mattered was that she stayed gone for a while.
Waking up without sensing that oppressive dark mana of hers was a blessing. That ominous, heavy aura… I'd only felt something like it on the frontlines. It even reminded me of someone I knew, but then, that someone who'd been declared dead, last I checked.
So yes. Peace. Silence. An academy that felt like an academy again without that annoyance.
I was enjoying that rare calm… until Cassian walked in and shattered it.
"Asier, there's a letter addressed to you," he said, handing me an envelope.
A letter?
I blinked at it like it was something cursed.
No one wrote me letters. Not the director, not Tia—they know why they shouldn't. And the temple's letters? I ignore those on sight.
So who in the world was sending me something?
There was no name. No crest. No return address. Just my name written neatly on the front, as if that alone should explain everything.
And somehow…
somehow that made it worse.
I felt a chill crawl up my spine.
This wasn't normal.
Not at all.
I turned the envelope over in my hands.
Still no name. No mark. No hint at who sent it.
Cassian hovered nearby, watching me like he expected the letter to explode.
Honestly? Same.
"…Did you check it for traps?" I asked.
He raised a brow. "It's a letter, Asier."
"And?" I shot back. "Curses can be written. Seals can be embedded. Assassination attempts can be folded into paper, don't look at me like that, it's happened before."
Cassian sighed, long-suffering.
But he still stepped back. Coward.
I exhaled slowly and broke the seal.
Only five words were written:
"The children have been kidnapped."
Five simple words, yet they hit me like a blade to the gut.
My pulse spiked.
How?
Since when?
Everyone in town knows better than to lay a finger on the orphanage. Even the most braindead criminals steer clear of it. Someone would have to be unbelievably bold… or unbelievably stupid… to cross that line.
I need to hurry. I need to find them.
But where do I start?
I can't just run outside and search blindly, I'd waste precious time.
"Asier? Are you okay?" Cassian's voice cut through the ringing in my ears. "You look… kind of pale."
"I'm fine," I said—too fast, too flat. My hands were already curling around the letter. "I'm going out for a bit."
His eyes narrowed, but I didn't give him time to question me.
There's only one person who can help me slip away unnoticed.
Only one who can cover for me without raising alarms.
The headmaster.
And, as if fate itself decided to shove me forward.
"Asier," came the headmaster's voice from the hallway, calm but firm. "Come to my office. Now."
Perfect timing, uncomfortably perfect.
I took a breath, folded the letter into my sleeve, and stepped forward.
This was a battle against time itself.
To be continued....