Sunlight filtered gently through the nursery windows, casting warm golden pools over soft blankets and polished wooden floors. The room smelled faintly of fresh flowers and linen, and somewhere outside, birds were chirping like they had no care in the world.
Lux opened his eyes slowly. He had grown used to these quiet mornings. At just over six months old, his control over his limbs was improving, though his body still felt like an ill-fitting robe—soft, clumsy, and frustratingly limited.
Still, there was peace here. Real peace. The kind he had never known in his last life.
"Everything feels... lighter. I don't mean the weight. I mean... the silence inside."
The door burst open with the force of a tiny hurricane.
"Luxyyy!"
Aeris, his sister, bounded into the room, nearly tripping over the rug as she carried a crooked little flower crown in both hands. Her silvery-blond hair bounced with every step, her face glowing with excitement.
"I made this for you! You're the prince today!"
She plopped the uneven crown onto his head with a proud grin and clapped.
Lux blinked at her. She was loud. So loud. But strangely, he didn't mind it. There was something about her presence—like sunlight after years of rain.
"She talks more than an entire war camp... but she's warm. Bright."
Moments later, Miriel appeared in the doorway, humming softly to herself. She carried a clean blanket over one arm and watched the scene with quiet joy. Not long after, Atheron followed behind her. He wasn't armored like a warlord today—just a tall man in a plain tunic, quiet and composed.
He walked over and gently picked Lux up from the cradle, cradling him against his chest.
"You'll grow strong... but not alone," he murmured under his breath.
Lux looked up into the man's face. Atheron's expression was unreadable, but not cold. There was something behind those eyes—something hidden, something soft.
Then came Ronan, and perpetually unimpressed. He strolled in holding a plate of sliced fruit.
"Why does everyone act like he's royalty?" he grumbled, though he made no effort to hide his smirk
Miriel only chuckled. "Because he's your brother. And he's adorable."
"I've seen potatoes with more expression," Ronan muttered.
Lux watched them all, quietly absorbing every detail. These people—no, his people—they laughed together. Teased each other. And they loved.
"I didn't live... I just survived. If there's a next life—I'll change that."
Later that evening, after a nap and more chaos courtesy of Aeris's dramatic puppet show, she leaned over his crib again, her cheeks puffed and determined.
"Say Ae-ris!" she insisted. "Come on! Ae-ris! That's me! Your favorite person!"
Lux blinked
She tapped his nose. "Ae. Ris."
He opened his mouth. A strange, wet gurgle came out.
Then, like fate had waited for this exact moment:
"Ae…wis."
Everything stopped.
Aeris gasped so loudly she nearly fell backward. "M-Mama!! He SAID MY NAME!!"
Miriel's eyes went wide. Atheron straightened. Even the maids in the hallway peeked around the corner in disbelief.
"He likes me best!!" Aeris squealed, hopping in circles. "He said MY name first!!"
Lux wasn't sure what he had just done. His cheeks were warm. Drool dripped down his chin.
Ronan, who had returned with a book in hand, froze mid-step.
He stared.
"He talks now?" he said, deadpan. "Great. What next? Sword practice tomorrow? Maybe he'll write poetry by lunch."
Lux gave a soft sneeze.
The room erupted in laughter.
And for the first time in two lives, Lux Windblade—formerly Vulcan—felt the strange, unfamiliar warmth of being loved.
He didn't smile. Not yet.
But his eyes softened.
He would get it right this time