The sun had just started to rise when we arrived at the new house. It wasn't massive — not a castle, not a palace — but it was solid. Stone walls, reinforced with warding runes and subtle storm-resistant enchantments I had layered personally. The roof wouldn't leak. The windows wouldn't shatter. And every entrance, every corner, every garden path was watched by my wraiths and reinforced by a few discreet mercenaries I had hired.
I stepped out of the carriage first, letting the faint hum of purple lightning ripple along my arms, a quiet warning to anyone who might think this house was easy prey.
My mother's eyes filled with tears as she surveyed the house. "Ashura… you didn't have to do this."
I gave her a faint, teasing smile. "Yes, I did. You deserve more than that old, leaky shack. And I don't like leaving anything to chance. Consider this… precautionary measures, courtesy of your stormchild."
My sister tugged at my sleeve, bouncing with excitement. "It's huge! Look at my room!"
"Try not to break anything," I said, voice laced with humor, though my eyes scanned the surroundings automatically. Every shadow. Every corner. Every distant sound. Years of dungeons had trained me to notice threats before they appeared.
We spent the morning unpacking, placing things carefully. My mother insisted on making tea, and I let her — the warmth in the house was enough to dull, temporarily, the storm humming in my veins. My sister ran between rooms, claiming corners as her own, decorating with whatever she could find.
I even allowed myself to sit on the balcony for a few minutes, simply watching them. My hands rested on the railing, faint sparks tracing along my fingertips, but for once they didn't lash out. The storm was calm, tempered by the simple sight of my family living safely.
Kaelen and Darian were stationed discreetly nearby. They didn't interfere, but the subtle shifts in their stances were enough to remind me they were ready if anything — or anyone — tried to test this new sanctuary.
At lunch, my mother looked at me, hands folded on the table. "Ashura, you don't need to… put yourself at risk for us every time."
I smirked, a mixture of pride and stubbornness lighting my expression. "You've got to understand — protecting you isn't a choice. It's who I am. And… besides," I added, a teasing edge in my tone, "if something happens here, who else would keep the storm entertained?"
My sister laughed loudly, nearly spilling her juice. "Don't scare me with your storm jokes!"
I chuckled, watching the small, mundane chaos of the house — laughter, conversation, small arguments over furniture placement. In a world filled with dungeons, catastrophic threats, and divine inheritors, these moments were fleeting. Precious.
And I would guard them with everything I had, no matter the cost.
As night fell, I stepped onto the balcony again. The lights of the house glowed warmly, my mother and sister safe inside. The storm hummed faintly around me, purple sparks fading as I let my mind wander over the next months — dungeons, guild development, Lysera, rivals, and the challenges that awaited.
Yet, for the first time in years, I allowed myself a faint, honest smile.
This was worth fighting for.