The dawn mist still clung to the fields when Kian led Nyla and Dael down the narrow trail that wound toward the edge of Draegor's outer district. Behind them, the quiet farmlands of Greenthorn Valley faded into the gray morning. In front of them, the city loomed—a beast of steel and stone wrapped in neon scars.
Kian kept his hood up. His siblings each carried a small pack. To them, it was a new beginning. To Kian, it was the start of his real trial.
"How much longer?" Dael asked, skipping a stone into a puddle beside the road.
"Not far," Kian replied with a soft smile. "We're almost home."
He didn't call it his home. Not yet. He wanted it to be theirs.
They arrived at the house just as the rain began again, a soft drizzle more mist than storm. The house stood near the edge of Ashridge's old ward—tucked behind a crumbling wall, two floors of reinforced stone and mana-shielded windows. Modest by city standards, but to the siblings, it was huge. The house had a sturdy red-tile roof, a small walled garden with mossy stone benches, and enough space for three or four people to live comfortably.
Nyla looked around the entryway. "This... is where you live?"
"Yeah," Kian said, setting his pack down. "It's not much, but it's ours now."
The rooms had been cleaned, the beds made. He'd kept Nyla's drawings pinned to the walls and Dael's scrap collection in a small box beneath a window. It smelled faintly of cinnamon bread, thanks to an illusion charm he'd traded for.
Dael ran into the back room, calling out, "I call the top bunk!"
Nyla laughed and turned to Kian. "It's... more than I expected."
Kian smiled. "You'll both be safe here. That's what matters."
And for the first time in years, they were.
The days that followed were quiet. Peaceful. Kian walked them to the local market each morning, bought bread and fruit, and let them explore the nearby park. Nyla began helping him cook. Dael found an old drone core and spent hours trying to repair it. They went to sleep under real blankets, behind real walls.
Kian told them nothing about the Codex, nothing about his power. He wore gloves to hide the faint glow under his skin and suppressed his aura with practiced ease. To them, he was just Kian—older brother, survivor, protector.
But every night, after they slept, he returned to the crypt.
Codex Status: Dormant
Bound Servants: 3 (Stasis Mode)
Trial Progress: Ongoing
He didn't train for conquest. He trained for defense. He reinforced the wards around the crypt, built escape tunnels that connected to nearby alleys, crafted glyphs that would warn him if any Guild scouts approached. He studied magic silently, carefully. Not to draw power, but to keep it hidden.
One night, as he left the crypt, he found Sylie waiting on the roof again.
"You brought them back," she said without turning.
"I did."
"You're not telling them, are you?"
Kian shook his head. "Not yet. Not unless I have to."
She stared at him for a long time. "That's dangerous."
"So is the truth."
She didn't argue.
"They happy?" she asked.
"I think so," he said, quietly. "They laugh now. Sleep without flinching. That's enough."
Sylie stood. "You're building something bigger than a fortress, Kian. You're building a life. Just don't forget—this city doesn't like secrets."
He looked at her, eyes cold. "Then I'll protect mine better than anyone else ever has."
A week passed. Then two.
Kian knew he had to think about the future. Nyla was thirteen now—quick-witted and serious beyond her years. Dael was ten, restless and bright-eyed. They needed routine. Structure.
So he enrolled them in a local school under false names.
Nyla began drawing again—more birds, but now cities too. Dael took apart every old appliance in the house and turned them into makeshift toys. Kian got work at the edge of the repair district, fixing rune circuits in exchange for food tokens and low-grade mana vials. No one looked twice.
At night, he read to them. Old books, fairy tales. Dael's favorite was about a knight who lived beneath a mountain, waiting for the day his people needed him. Nyla liked the ones with clever girls who tricked demons.
Kian liked the quiet.
It wouldn't last. But while it did, he let himself enjoy it.
One day, Dael came to him with a question. "Kian, why did you send us away before?"
Kian paused, washing dishes. "Because it wasn't safe here."
Dael frowned. "But you stayed."
"I had to. I needed to get strong enough to protect you."
"You mean, like... get a better job?"
Kian smiled faintly. "Something like that."
Dael nodded. "You're strong now. You won't let anyone take us, right?"
Kian knelt and put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Never. No one will ever hurt you again."
He meant it.
In the background, the Codex pulsed faintly.
System Update: New Directive Proposed
Title: Guardian Veil Protocol
Function: Create a cloaking shroud to obscure household presence from external mana scans.
Status: Initial Draft – Materials Required: (Mistroot Extract, Obsidian Dust, Wyrd Crystal)
Kian added it to his list.
He would keep them hidden.
He would keep them safe.
Even if it meant becoming the shadow beneath the city.
End of Chapter 5