"…Our son…"
Light.
It hurt.
Lucien's eyes opened slowly.
Everything was blurred—shapes, shadows, movement.
Voices.
Close.
Too close.
Where… am I?
His body felt wrong.
Small.
Weak.
A face came into focus.
A woman.
Beautiful—and crying.
"Thank God…!"
Her voice broke as she held him closer.
"My son… you're alive…"
Lucien froze.
Son…?
Another figure stepped forward.
A man.
Around thirty. Tired eyes, but steady.
"Let me hold him."
She nodded immediately and gently placed the child in his arms.
Warmth.
The man held him carefully, firmly—like something precious.
Like something he refused to lose.
"…You made it."
His voice was quiet.
"I thought we lost you."
A tear fell onto Lucien's face.
"I'll give you everything I can," he said.
"Everything."
Lucien didn't understand the words.
But he felt it.
Something unfamiliar.
Warm.
He had never felt it before.
Not in his past life.
Not as a soldier.
Not as an orphan.
For the first time—
something inside him moved.
His lips shifted slightly.
A small smile.
"…He smiled," the woman whispered softly.
The man exhaled slowly, tension leaving his shoulders.
After a moment, the woman spoke again.
"We should give him a name."
The man looked down at the child.
At those quiet, unreadable eyes.
"…Kael."
A brief pause.
"Kael Draven."
The room fell silent.
Lucien—
no,
Kael—
looked at them.
The name didn't feel like his.
Not yet.
But the warmth remained.
And then—
for a brief moment—
the candlelight flickered.
The shadows in the corner stretched unnaturally…
twisting, bending—
like something was there.
Then—
nothing.
The light steadied.
The room returned to normal.
No one noticed.
Except him.
And for the first time—
something inside Kael felt… familiar.
Not warmth.
Something colder.