The world outside still smelled of smoke, ash, and regret—but within the towering black gates of the villa, life bloomed like it had never known sorrow. The courtyard was a whirlwind of motion and noise as the rescued children and women shuffled in behind Mira, their eyes wide at the sight of white stone arches, carved fountains, and sunlit gardens that seemed impossibly clean after the filth of the slums.
Drathan stretched his arms high overhead, cracking his spine. "Alright, welcome to Casa Chaos," he declared. "Rules are simple—don't die, don't steal my snacks, and if you break something, blame Kenshin."
"Bruh," Kenshin muttered, side-eyeing him while carrying a pair of small kids on his shoulders like they were feathery hats. "You act like you ain't the number one menace in this household."
Seme smirked, arms folded as her gaze swept over the crowd. "Nah, he right though. You the one who blew up the courtyard wall last month 'testin' a spell.'"
"That wall disrespected me," Kenshin said deadpan, making the kids on his shoulders giggle.
Mira was crouched in front of her younger siblings, brushing stray strands of hair from their faces. They looked nervous, like two kittens flung into a room full of lions. The boy clung to her arm; the girl half-hid behind her tail. "It's okay," Mira whispered softly, voice melting from guide to big sister. "We're safe now. No one's gonna hurt you here."
Drathan knelt down too, setting a gentle grin on his face that rarely appeared outside of battle. "Names?"
The girl hesitated, then spoke barely above a whisper. "Nyla."
The boy puffed up like he was defending her. "Kael."
"Cool," Drathan said. "You two like bread? We got mad bread."
Kael blinked. "Bread… with butter?"
"Bread with whatever you want, lil man." Drathan patted his head and stood. "Aight, let's get 'em washed up. Mira, show 'em their rooms."
Inside, the household staff moved like a well-trained unit despite their recent induction. The wolf hybrid siblings—Renn and Raya—hauled tubs of warm water from the heated cistern while their tails wagged, though they tried to hide it behind stoic faces. The dark elf halfling, Selene, darted around with her usual quiet grace, laying out fresh clothes, soft towels, and scented oils like she was staging a royal welcome.
The elven princess Lysera and her twin maids, Liri and Lyna, floated down the grand staircase like sunlight in human form, curious eyes glinting as they watched the chaos. Lysera tilted her head at Mira's siblings. "They're… very small."
"Yeah," Kenshin said, "they come in the fun-size pack."
Seme elbowed him. "Shut up before you make them cry."
"They gon' love me," Kenshin said, grinning. "Everybody does."
As the kids were swept away to be cleaned and dressed, the rescued women settled in the lounge. Food began to appear by the armload—platters of roast pheasant, baskets of soft bread, bright fruit glistening like jewels. The air filled with scents of cinnamon and roasting meat.
One older woman sat gingerly on the edge of a plush chair, tears slipping silently as she cradled a steaming cup of tea. "I forgot what warmth felt like," she whispered.
"Get used to it," Drathan said from where he sprawled across the couch, head tilted back. "Ain't no chains in this house."
Mira's siblings reappeared soon after, scrubbed clean and dressed in soft linen tunics. They walked like they weren't sure the floor wouldn't vanish under them. Nyla stared at the chandelier, mouth forming a little 'o.' Kael just kept glancing at all the doors like he was trying to memorize escape routes out of habit.
Seme crouched down to their level, voice gentle despite her usual edge. "This place ain't a cage. You wanna run in the garden? Do it. You wanna eat all the cookies? Might get yelled at, but no one's gonna stop you."
Kael blinked, unsure, then nodded once. Nyla clung to Mira's tail again—but this time, she smiled faintly.
"Alright, feast time," Kenshin announced, tossing Nyla a sweet roll like an underhand pitch. She fumbled it and then grinned like it was treasure.
The main hall roared to life. Firelight danced across polished marble as laughter echoed off the vaulted ceiling. Drinks were poured, cups clinked. Renn challenged Raya to an arm-wrestling contest that cracked the table leg. Selene bet them both they couldn't beat her and then actually did, which made Kenshin holler so loud one of the kids spit juice out their nose.
"Yo, clean that up before Seme sees it," Drathan called from where he was teaching Kael how to eat chicken wings properly. "Twist, bite, slide the bone out. Boom. Art."
"You a menace," Seme said, though she was smiling.
"Art," Drathan repeated, licking sauce off his fingers.
Lysera watched it all from the grand chair near the fire, chin resting on her hand. The chaos seemed to dazzle her, like it was some wild magic. When Drathan glanced her way, she startled and looked down, cheeks flushed. Liri and Lyna were whispering furiously at her sides, their pointed ears twitching like nervous birds.
By nightfall, everyone was full, clean, and maybe a little drunk on relief. The kids fell asleep curled up on Mira's lap by the fire, soft snores rising with each flick of the flames.
Seme stretched out on the rug, arms behind her head, eyes half-lidded. "Can't believe we pulled this off."
Kenshin raised his mug. "A toast—to not bein' dead, and to family that don't suck."
Drathan clinked his cup to Kenshin's, voice quiet but sure. "To family."
The hall echoed with the sound of mugs slamming on wood and cheers rising to the rafters.
As the Moonlight spilled across the villa's marble balcony, bathing the stone in pale silver. The party below had dwindled into silence—distant snores, soft murmurs of dreams, and the faint hiss of dying embers in the grand hearth. The courtyard smelled of spiced wine and roasted meat, the ghosts of laughter still lingering like perfume.
Drathan leaned against the railing, arms folded, eyes fixed on the horizon where Tierwyn's walls glimmered faintly. The night air was cool, brushing against his skin like whispers. Behind him, the soft creak of the balcony doors opened, and Kenshin strolled out barefoot with a half-empty bottle dangling from his fingers.
"Yo," Kenshin said, voice low and lazy. "Whole damn house finally quiet. Kinda weird."
"Yeah," Drathan murmured. "Feels… almost normal."
Seme followed soon after, yawning as she pushed the door closed with her heel. Her hair was down, falling past her shoulders in dark waves, and her eyes carried that rare glimmer of ease. "Normal's overrated," she muttered, plopping into one of the lounge chairs. "But this? This ain't bad."
For a long moment, none of them spoke. The villa loomed behind them, alive with the soft warmth of lanterns. Beyond, the city slept—a sea of muted lights and distant song.
Kenshin broke the silence first. "Think they'll be okay? The kids, the women… Mira's sibs?"
"They will," Seme said firmly. "Not 'cause this world is kind… but 'cause we are."
Drathan smirked faintly. "Deep."
Seme shot him a look. "Don't make me ruin your moment of reflection."
"Wouldn't dare."
Kenshin exhaled through his nose, then grinned crookedly. "Still can't believe we got a whole-ass household now. Like… we homeowners, bro."
Drathan chuckled. "Slum-clearing, god-defying, kingdom-shaking homeowners."
"Bet the goddess didn't see that in her prophecy," Seme said dryly.
They laughed softly, the sound carried off by the wind. Then quiet returned, heavier but comfortable.
Drathan's gaze darkened as he thought of the Demon Lord's voice, the hidden war, the shadow creeping at the edge of their newfound peace. He didn't speak it aloud—but the weight settled on his shoulders like an invisible cloak.
Seme, watching him, seemed to sense it. "Whatever you're brooding about," she said, voice gentler than usual, "you don't carry it alone."
Drathan gave a small nod, not trusting words.
Kenshin stretched, groaning dramatically. "Aight… I'm off to bed before I start sayin' real feelings. Can't have that. Ruins my rep."
"Your rep's already in shambles," Seme called as he walked back inside.
"Then I got nothin' to lose," Kenshin shot back, laughing.
The balcony fell silent again. Drathan stayed until the moon climbed high and cold, letting the quiet seep into his bones—just for tonight, just for this sliver of peace.
Tomorrow, the world could start spinning again.
Tonight, they breathed.