The morning light spills through the kitchen window, painting the table in soft gold. Markus leans back in his chair, fingers curled around the warm mug Liddle just set in front of him. The rich scent of coffee fills the air, mingling with the faint sound of cartoons playing in the background.

  In the living room, Sally darts between the couch and the coffee table, clutching a stuffed bunny like it’s a prized treasure. Her bare feet thud lightly against the carpet as she giggles, weaving around imaginary obstacles only she can see.

  Markus watches her for a moment, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I just realized,” he says, glancing at Liddle as she sits across from him, “I’m… a parent.”

  He nods toward the miniature whirlwind in the living room. “Should I stop that?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. After a long sip of coffee, he shakes his head with a quiet laugh. “Nah. I’m sure it’s fine.”

  His smile lingers as he watches Sally twirl. “Am I a good parent?” he asks.

  “I don’t know,” Liddle says, leaning her head against his shoulder. “But you brought her into the house and didn’t throw her out—you’ve already done one better than my parents.”

  He chuckles, setting his mug down. “Fair point.”

  “Now…” Liddle’s voice softens into a playful purr as her tail curls around his back. “Are you a good husband? Because you seem to be slacking on your hugs and kisses.”

  Markus smiles and pulls her close, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. “I love you,” he murmurs.

  “I wish my parents could see this,” Liddle whispers. “That I have everything they said I’d never have.”

  “Well,” Markus says with a small grin, “I’ll make sure you never have to think about them again. You deserve the best—and you’re stuck with me.”

  “Not many girls get to date a wielder,” Liddle teases, rubbing her nose against his before blowing playfully on his lips. “But even fewer get to date someone who makes them feel loved every single day. I have my very own Markus.”

  Before he can answer, a knock sounds at the door. Sally peeks in, grinning.

  “Sorry,” she announces, “but Mom and Dad are being sappy again.”

  “Sally, why don’t you let Daddy get the door,” Markus says, wheeling himself over.

  As he opens it, the visitor raises an eyebrow. “When did you have a child? You and Liddle worked fast.”

  Markus smirks. “Good to see you again, Aunt Linda. As you can see, I’ve got a new house and an adopted child. It’s been a busy month.”

  Aunt Linda glances at Sally with a warm smile. “Keep your daddy out of trouble, okay?”

  Markus raises an eyebrow. “Turning my own daughter against me already?” He turns to Sally. “This is Aunt Linda. My parents had her watch me whenever they were deployed with the National Guard. She practically raised me.”

  Sally’s eyes light up. “Oh! So she liked you and picked you up off the street!” she says, beaming as she climbs onto Markus’s lap.

  Markus laughs under his breath and rolls his chair into the kitchen, showing Aunt Linda around. Liddle is already pouring him another cup of coffee.

  “You’re too good to me,” Markus says, leaning over to kiss her cheek.

  Aunt Linda shakes her head. “No, thank you.” She scoops Sally up instead, carrying her toward the backyard. “Come on, sweetheart—let’s give your parents a minute.”

  Markus leans back, watching them through the window with a soft smile. “You know,” he says quietly, “a lot of things went wrong in my life… but I think I used all my luck meeting Liddle.”

  Aunt Linda shoots him a look over her shoulder. “You seem really happy with your wife. Maybe she can stop you next time you decide to ride an alien bird into another dimension. Are you crazy?” She taps her fingernails against the counter for emphasis.

  Markus laughs nervously. “She’s stayed by my side no matter what life throws at me.”

  Aunt Linda folds her arms, her tone softening. “So… Do we thank her for bringing you back? Or do we thank that Lemres fellow?”

  Markus’s shoulders tense. “Can we talk about something else?” he asks quietly, gaze dropping toward his coffee.

  “This is why I didn’t want you to have that damn rock—you’re going to get yourself killed.”

  “Can we not talk about that fucking dragon?” Markus snaps. His grip tightens around the mug, knuckles whitening as coffee trembles and spills over the rim. His chest feels too tight, each breath coming quicker than the last.

  Through the kitchen window, Liddle catches sight of him from outside. She slips back in quietly, placing a steadying hand over his.

  Aunt Linda’s brows lift. “I didn’t mean to be harsh,” she says softly. “I just don’t want to lose my nephew.”

  Markus’s hands shake, his voice caught somewhere in his throat.

  “He still has nightmares about it,” Liddle says gently, her hand never leaving his. “We agreed not to talk about it.”

  She places her hand on the table, and Markus grips it like an anchor. “I appreciate your concern,” he manages, his breathing finally starting to slow. “And I’m sorry if I made you worry.

  “It’s not easy seeing you like this,” Aunt Linda says quietly. “Promise me you’ll see a doctor, okay?” She hesitates, then adds, “But… I know that’s not what you called me here to talk about.”

  Markus exhales, the tension easing from his shoulders. “I’m going to ask the mayor of Ohio about funding for an orphanage,” he says. “Got any advice?”

  Aunt Linda taps a finger against her lips, thinking. “I know your heart’s in the right place, but remember—he’s a politician. Focus on what’s good for him, not just what’s good for the kids.”

  “I get it,” Markus says with a small nod. “So… I should talk about how it’ll keep gangs off the streets?”

  “That might work,” Aunt Linda replies, her tone thoughtful. “Mind if I take a look at the lease for this house?”

  Markus handed her the papers, but his mind was already on what came next.

  This meeting could mean the difference between giving those kids a safe place—or leaving them to fend for themselves.

  In the blink of an eye, he teleports to the mayor’s office.

  The echo of his wheelchair against the marble floor makes the whole place feel too big, too official. Every turn of the wheels carries him deeper into the building’s polished, echoing corridors until he finally stops outside the mayor’s door.

  “Oh, you must be the young man who fought that dragon,” the mayor says, straightening his suit before extending a hand. His grip is firm, his smile practiced. “Your story is an inspiration to all Americans.”

  Markus bows slightly from his wheelchair before rolling inside.

  “There are quite a few things I’ve been looking forward to discussing with you,” the mayor continues, gesturing toward a steaming mug on his desk. “But first—coffee.”

  “Thank you,” Markus says, accepting it. The rich cream softens the bitterness as he takes a sip. “Your assistant makes the best coffee.”

  The mayor smirks. “Perks of the job. Better than being down there with the people… the ones who have to deal with the consequences of that dragon.”

  Markus tries to ignore the remark. “Speaking of that event… maybe we could talk about the children left homeless because of it?”

  “Oh, no need to worry about that, young Markus,” the mayor says, pulling a thick stack of papers from his desk. “I’ve already signed an order to increase the police force in Ohio. That should take care of the gang problem.”

  “They’re children,” Markus says, his tone sharpening.

  The mayor doesn’t flinch. “I know. But the truth is… they don’t vote, and neither do their parents.”

  Markus’s jaw tightens. “Well… that’s one plan,” he says evenly, hands trembling slightly as he lifts the cup for another sip. He takes a breath, then meets the mayor’s gaze. “But if we had an orphanage, we could give those kids a better life—keep them off the streets before they ever end up in gangs.”

  “Do you think it’s fair for kids who’ve already committed crimes not to face consequences?” the mayor asks, his tone measured.

  Markus meets his gaze. “Nothing about their lives has been fair up to this point. Why should I start worrying about that now?”

  “Oh,” the mayor laughs, leaning back in his chair. “I see you’re new to politics. Let me tell you — you won’t get far if you try to help everyone. The public? They’ll cheer for you one day and turn on you the next. You need a few strong groups in your corner if you want to survive.”

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  He opens a desk drawer and sets a neat stack of cash on the table. “Keep your key supporters happy, or you’ll be replaced before you know it. The police unions are one of mine — they keep the streets under control, so I make sure they’re well taken care of.”

  His smile fades, replaced by a colder edge. “As for those kids… well, no one wins elections on charity cases.”

  “I’m sorry if I have to look like I’ve got some charity cases to take care of,” Markus says, bowing his head slightly before opening a portal beside his chair.

  The mayor’s voice softens as the air begins to hum. “I’ve seen young people like you get ripped apart time and time again,” he says. “I hope you get your orphanage, I really do. But people with influence and money will tear into you the moment they think you’re a threat to their gains.”

  He sighs, then reaches into his desk and slides an envelope across the surface. “Before you go… I have a gift for you.”

  Markus frowns, taking it carefully. “What is it?”

  “An ID for your demon wife,” the mayor says. “It should help her keep a low profile. Be careful out there, Markus.”

  Markus’s expression softens, a genuine smile breaking through. “Thank you. Welcoming Liddle like that means a lot more than you think.”

  The mayor returns the smile, his handshake firm but calculated — more a transaction than a greeting.

  “Oh, and one last thing,” he adds. “The Alien Department has relocated to Ely, Minnesota. That should make life easier for you and your wife.”

  The mayor’s voice dips with practiced ease, each word deliberate and heavy.

  “But remember, my friend… easier for you also means easier for me. Keep it that way.”

  Before Markus can respond, the portal closes. The world folds in on itself, and in the next heartbeat he’s back in front of his house. The portal snaps shut behind him, leaving only the quiet.

  No voices. No footsteps. Just the soft rustle of wind through the trees.

  He sits there in his chair, staring at the front door. The mayor’s words cling to him like a weight pressing against his chest. His fingers curl loosely around the envelope, but it feels heavier than paper should.

  For a long moment, he can’t make himself move.

  Markus lifts his gaze — and the world tilts.

  Above him, the sky is gone, replaced by a vast, coiling shadow. The dragon. It winds around the Earth like a living horizon, its endless body blotting out the light. Its head looms over the planet, jaws yawning wide enough to swallow oceans. Even the stars seem to tremble in its presence.

  His breath catches. A cold tremor runs down his spine.

  He blinks, forcing himself to breathe — and just like that, the vision vanishes. Only a calm, blue sky remains, as if nothing had ever been there at all.

  Markus’s heart still races as he opens the door.

  “Daddy’s home!” Sally cries, darting across the room to wrap her arms around him.

  From the kitchen, Liddle peeks her head out and smiles. She crosses the room and presses a kiss to his lips. “Glad you’re back. Aunt Linda’s out.”

  She glances toward the stairs, then gently guides his chair toward the bedroom. Once she’s sure no one can overhear, her voice softens.

  “You okay? Your heartbeat’s racing.”

  Markus swallows hard, the image of the dragon still coiled around the Earth burning in the back of his mind. He can still feel its shadow lingering — cold and heavy — as if it has followed him home.

  Liddle wraps her arms around him, holding him close. “It’s okay,” she murmurs. “I know how scary the dragon must have been.”

  She lifts him gently from the chair and sets him down on the bed. “You’ve had a lot of work today,” she says softly. Then she slips in beside him, curling up against his shoulder.

  “It’s not okay,” Markus says, his voice low but unsteady. “The people out there don’t get to rest. So much was destroyed and… and—” His words falter as a tremor runs through him. “That dragon is still out there. I failed. I couldn’t kill it. I can’t kill it. It makes the Earth look like a peanut.”

  Liddle holds him tighter, her arms firm around him as if she can shield him from the memory itself.

  “How was I supposed to defeat that?” he whispers.

  “We still have a planet because of you,” Liddle says softly, kissing his nose. “So please… it’s hard watching you beat yourself up like this.”

  Markus pulls her in, burying his face against her as the tears come. He doesn’t speak—he just holds her, letting the quiet settle over them, the stillness wrapping around them like a fragile kind of peace.

  “Thank you, Liddle. I’m sorry… I know I’ve been a lot of trouble since the dragon. It’s just been…” His voice trails off, searching for the word that won’t come.

  “I know,” Liddle says gently, her hand resting against his cheek.

  “So… I didn’t tell you what happened when I was buying groceries the other day.” She parts her hair, revealing a faint bruise on her temple. “A guy threw a beer can at me and called me a demon. The world’s still not kind… but being here with you, I know I’ll be alright.”

  Markus’s arms wrap around her instantly, pulling her in so tightly it’s almost crushing.

  “It’s hard seeing you like this,” she murmurs into his shoulder. “But promise me we’ll work through your feelings together.”

  Markus shifts, trying to push himself upright.

  “Where are you going?” Liddle asks, concern in her voice.

  “The first-aid kit’s in the bathroom,” he says. “I can see what I can do for your bruise.”

  Liddle presses a hand gently against his chest, easing him back down. “It’s alright. It doesn’t hurt that much.” Her lips curve into a small, touched smile. “You’ve been through enough today—you don’t have to worry about me too.”

  “I’ll always worry about you,” Markus murmurs, his fingers brushing lightly over the spot where the bruise peeks through her hair.

  “Look, promise me you’ll get some rest. I’ll wake you when Aunt Linda comes back. And if you try to get up…” Liddle’s eyes narrow playfully, “…I’ll be forced to cuddle you down so you can’t move.”

  “So if I get out of bed, I get cuddles? Bet.”

  “That’s not what I said!” Liddle laughs, launching herself onto him. Markus catches her, and they tumble together in a burst of laughter—the earlier heaviness melting into warmth.

  After a few minutes, Markus drifts off, his breathing evening out. Liddle brushes a kiss across his forehead.

  “I love you,” she whispers before slipping quietly out of the room and down the stairs.

  “Is Daddy okay?” Sally asks the moment Liddle reaches the bottom.

  “He should be,” Liddle says gently. “Fighting a dragon takes a lot out of someone, you know.” She lifts Sally and sets her on the couch. “Can you do me a favor? Don’t ask your father about it right now. He’s trying to be strong for us—even if it’s not easy for him—and he doesn’t need the extra pressure.”

  Sally’s face grows serious. She nods, then leans into Liddle’s side, wrapping her small arms around her. Liddle holds her close, feeling a quiet understanding settle between them.

  A moment later, a knock echoes through the house. Everything goes still—the only sound the soft hum of the fridge.

  Liddle opens the door to find Alexia standing beside Aunt Linda.

  “Liddle!” Alexia beams, pulling her into a quick hug. “It’s always good to see you.”

  “It’s nice to see you too,” Liddle says with a smile. “I’m sorry, but Markus is sleeping right now.”

  “Markus is… sleeping?” Alexia’s eyes widen before she giggles. “Didn’t think he even knew how. Guess he’s finally starting to feel comfortable. You must have your magic.”

  “Yeah… he hasn’t really been able to sleep since the dragon fight,” Liddle admits, sitting down on the couch. “It’s like he’s haunted by something. I don’t know what to do.”

  Alexia’s smile softens. She sits beside Liddle, her hands resting loosely in her lap. “When we finally get the orphanage off the ground, maybe we can convince him to see a psychiatrist.”

  “Am I not good enough?” Liddle asks, her gaze dropping to the floor. “I just want him to be happy… like how he makes me feel.”

  “Trust me,” Alexia says, wrapping an arm around her shoulders with a reassuring smile. “If you weren’t here, he wouldn’t even be able to rest right now. You’re doing a good job—and I wouldn’t want anyone else watching over him.”

  “I can’t leave him,” Liddle says softly. “When I needed help, he was there for me—no questions asked.”

  “That’s why we’re here,” Aunt Linda says warmly. “You’re not alone in this. When Markus wakes up, tell him we’ve got some good news for him.”

  “Are you sure I should wake him? You don’t know how much work it took to get him to sleep,” Liddle says.

  “Oh, trust me, I know,” Alexia replies with a giggle. “You’ve got your hands full with that one. I don’t know why you put up with it.”

  Liddle’s cheeks warm as Alexia goes on. “I bet he does the whole ‘I am the wielder of the Life-Giving Blade! I must protect everyone no matter what happens to my body—oh no, I’m dying again!’”

  Liddle laughs, shaking her head. “It’s cute. I love that about him.”

  The door upstairs creaks open, and Markus appears at the top of the stairwell, bracing himself against the wall as he tries to walk.

  “I’d know that voice anywhere,” he says with a faint smile. “Good to see you, Alexia.”

  “Markus—hold on, let me grab your wheelchair,” Liddle says quickly. She hurries past him, retrieves the chair, and helps him sit down before carefully carrying him down the stairs.

  “Look at you, Markus—being carried like a prince,” Alexia teases, leaning in to poke his nose as he reaches the bottom.

  “Haha, I feel so special… not being able to walk,” Markus says with a wry grin.

  “Oh, come on—you should be honored to have Liddle as your wife,” Alexia says with a grin.

  Markus leans over and kisses Liddle. “Who said I wasn’t?”

  Liddle’s cheeks flush, and she gives him a playful nudge before settling herself in his lap. “Your turn to carry me around,” she teases, kissing him back.

  “So… I overheard something about good news,” Markus says, wheeling himself and Liddle over to the kitchen table.

  Aunt Linda slides a piece of paper across to him.

  “You might have to read it for him,” Alexia teases. “I don’t think he can.”

  “Oh, you’ve got all the jokes today,” Markus says with a smirk, picking up the paper.

  “This is a picture of a building.” He tilts his head, studying it closer. “Oh wait—this is a blueprint. About ten rooms… is this—?”

  “I have my ways around politics,” Aunt Linda says with a faint smile. “It’s good to be a lawyer, after all. You already have a plot of land large enough for two buildings like this.”

  Markus’s eyes light up. “This is amazing. Thank you.”

  “We won’t have as much funding as if the government got involved,” Aunt Linda admits, “but it should be enough to get those kids off the streets.”

  A knock sounds at the door. Aunt Linda opens it to find a few construction workers standing outside. She steps onto the porch, explaining the plan for the building in careful detail.

  “Thank you for everything,” Markus says as the men prepare to leave. “We wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.

  One of the workers smiles. “Don’t worry about it, Dragon Slayer. If my son were still here, he’d be proud to see his family being part of something like this.”

  Markus’s voice softens. “That means a lot. Really.”

  He turns to Aunt Linda. “You seem to know more about this stuff. Mind if I trust this part to you?”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” Aunt Linda says with a small smile.

  Markus glances down at his wheelchair, then at his Mahoishi, and sighs. “The longer I’ve been doing this, the more I realize I can’t do it alone. I guess I was a huge pain in the butt after my parents died.”

  “Oh, you were a huge pain in the ass,” Alexia teases, ruffling his hair.

  Aunt Linda chuckles. “But you’ve matured into a fine adult. No need to feel bad about it.”

  “Thank you. You’ve got this,” Markus says as Aunt Linda and Alexia both nod. He turns toward the living room. “Hey, Sally, mind coming with me? I need you.”

  Sally slips her hand into his as they step toward the door.

  “There are kids who need my help,” Markus says, glancing down at her with a determined smile, “and we’re going to find them.”