Alaric’s voice emerged even quieter, carrying certainty that came from decades of experience.

"They listen to consequences... To demonstrations of what happens when they cross certain lines. I’m done wasting breath on warnings that won’t be heeded."

Understanding dawned in Lyandra’s eyes as she realized what he wasn’t saying directly.

"My father is probably stationed at one of the active battlefields right now."

Her voice carried acceptance.

"The frontlines always need people like him. He never could stay away from combat for long."

Alaric nodded.

"If you’re going to meet him anyway, we might as well enter together. Get the political protection secured for Luna, then stay and... get stronger."

Lyandra gave him a long look, one that conveyed she knew exactly what he was planning and approved completely.

She reached up, pulling his face down to hers, kissing him deeply.

When they pulled apart, her voice was firm.

"...Together then. Like always."

Alaric’s smile became real for the first time since Ezra had left their house.

"Like always."

They stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, before slowly pulling apart.

Lyandra walked to the window, looking out at the estate grounds bathed in moonlight.

Then they both stopped, their movements slowing as the reality of what they were about to do settled over them.

Alaric’s eyes swept across the bedroom, taking in details he’d stopped noticing years ago.

The family photos on the dresser, Damian’s first day of school, Luna’s birthday parties, holidays spent together without the weight of war pressing down on them.

The bookshelf filled with children’s stories they’d read aloud when the kids were younger.

The comfortable furniture they’d picked out together when they’d first retired, choosing softness over utility for the first time in their adult lives.

Lyandra’s gaze moved through the room as well, her throat tightening as memories surfaced unbidden.

Sixteen years of peace.

Sixteen years of being parents instead of soldiers.

Sixteen years of morning breakfasts and bedtime stories and normal problems like homework and friendship drama instead of life-or-death combat.

This house had been their sanctuary, the place where the Twin Terrors had transformed into Mom and Dad.

Where legendary warriors had learned to bake cookies and worry about normal things that normal families worried about.

"We built a good life here."

Lyandra’s voice came out soft, tinged with something that might have been regret.

Alaric moved to stand beside her at the window, his hand finding hers.

"We did."

His voice was gentle.

"We gave them sixteen years of safety. Sixteen years of happiness... That’s more than most awakeners can give their children."

He squeezed her hand.

"But that Chapter is ending. They’re growing up."

Lyandra leaned her head against his shoulder.

"I’m going to miss this house."

"So will I."

They stood there in silence, two legendary warriors saying goodbye to the peaceful life they’d built, preparing to return to the violence they’d left behind.

For their children.

For the threats they couldn’t yet face.

For the future that required them to be more than parents.

"The Academy starts in a few weeks."

Alaric’s voice was practical.

Lyandra pulled away from the window, her expression shifting back to the cold determination that had made enemies fear her name.

"Then let’s make sure we come back stronger than when we leave."

Her voice hardened.

"Strong enough that whoever’s pulling strings in the shadows learns to regret it."

Alaric’s smile became sharp and predatory.

"Now you’re talking like the woman I married."

The Twin Terrors were coming out of retirement.

****

The Valcor family sat gathered around the dinner table, the familiar warmth of a shared meal filling the room.

Kuro perched on the back of Damian’s chair, occasionally stealing pieces of meat from his plate with shameless efficiency.

Luna talked about the Academy invitations she’d received, her voice animated as she described the increasingly desperate recruitment attempts from various Noble houses.

Lyandra listened with maternal pride, asking questions and offering advice about never trusting nobles.

Alaric ate quietly, his usual stern expression softened slightly as he watched his family interact.

But Damian was distracted.

His food sat mostly untouched, his crimson eyes distant, his mind clearly somewhere else entirely.

Alaric noticed after several minutes of watching his son push rice around his plate without actually eating any of it.

"Something on your mind, kiddo?"

Damian’s eyes focused, coming back to the present.

He looked at Alaric for a long moment, then at Lyandra, his expression unreadable.

Then he spoke, his voice quiet but carrying through the room.

"...I want to know about my real parents."

The temperature dropped.

Luna’s fork froze halfway to her mouth, her silver eyes going wide.

Alaric and Lyandra exchanged a long look across the table, an entire conversation happening in that single glance between two people who’d spent decades reading each other’s thoughts.

Lyandra’s lips curved into a helpless smile, sad but understanding.

"Looks like we can’t keep it hidden anymore, can we?"

Her voice was soft, resigned rather than defensive.

Alaric’s expression mirrored hers, his silver eyes showing the same helpless acceptance.

"No."

His voice was quiet.

"I suppose we can’t."

They looked at each other for another moment, then something shifted in their expressions.

Resignation transforming into conviction.

Lyandra’s smile became firmer and more certain.

"He was always meant to find out one day."

Alaric nodded slowly, his jaw setting.

"It’s time, I guess."

He looked at Damian, then at Luna, both his children watching with varying degrees of confusion and anticipation.

His hand moved, his fingers snapping once.

Snap

The sound echoed through the room.

Then Damian felt it.

A pressure descending over the entire house, invisible but tangible, like reality itself had been wrapped in a barrier.

His enhanced senses immediately detected the change. All electronic signals were cut off and every sound from outside the house vanished.

’His Physical Domain.’

Complete isolation from the outside world.

Nothing getting in or out.

Whatever they were about to discuss, Alaric didn’t want anyone or anything overhearing it.

Damian’s eyes narrowed slightly as pieces clicked into place.

His voice came out as barely a whisper.

"...I’m related to the Bloodworth Imperial Family, aren’t I?"