“Daddy! Daddy!”

  Sally bursts up the stairs and launches herself onto the bed, jolting Markus awake.

  He reacts on instinct — hand snapping toward his Mahoishi — before his tired eyes focus on her beaming face. His pulse eases.

  “Please don’t scare me like that, sweetheart,” he says with a shaky exhale.

  “I’m sorry,” Sally pouts. “I was just excited you’re home! We finally get to spend the whole day together!”

  Markus smiles faintly and sets the Mahoishi on the nightstand. “It’s okay, Sally. Just remember — my job involves getting attacked sometimes, so I startle easy, alright?”

  She nods quickly. “Okay.”

  He reaches out and pulls her close into a hug. “That’s my girl.”

  Beside him, Liddle stirs with a sleepy yawn, stretching her arms over her head. “Mmm… what’s all the noise about?”

  “Oh, nothing bad,” Markus says, smiling. “Just an ambush from Sally. We were thinking of going to Buckstar for a coffee — well, a hot chocolate for her.”

  Liddle rubs her eyes and smiles softly. “That sounds nice.” She reaches over and laces her fingers through his. “What do you think?”

  “It’s nice… being able to actually walk there with the two of you,” Markus says. He flexes his leg carefully; the faint ache barely bothers him now. “Feels good.”

  “We can bring the wheelchair, though,” Liddle teases, sitting up with a sly smile. “That way you can wheel me around and kiss me on command.”

  Markus chuckles. “Tempting offer.” He leans in to kiss her forehead, then slips out of bed. “But I think we’ll walk today.”

  They step outside together, Markus leading with Liddle and Sally close behind. The other kids are still asleep in their new rooms, the house quiet except for the soft creak of the door closing behind them.

  He raises a hand, feeling the cool morning breeze wash across his fingers. The sky is clear and blue — the kind of peaceful day he hasn’t had in a long time.

  “This is nice,” he murmurs.

  The three of them walk through a neighborhood of colorful houses, morning light glinting off the windows.

  Then — thump.

  Markus freezes. His eyes snap toward the sound and, before he can think, he ducks behind a parked car.

  “Over here!” a voice calls.

  He peeks out and sees a group of kids playing basketball, the hoop nailed crookedly to an old wooden post. The ball bounces again — another thump against the pavement.

  Markus lets out a long breath and rubs the back of his neck. “Uh… sorry about that,” he says, standing and pretending nothing happened.

  Liddle and Sally exchange a quiet look but don’t comment as they continue walking.

  They turn the corner and step into a Buckstar. The smell of roasted coffee beans fills the air, blending with the low hum of conversation and the hiss of the espresso machine.

  Markus takes a slow, steadying breath as he approaches the counter.

  “Hi, could I get an extra-large French vanilla latte and a small hot chocolate? And whatever the lady wants,” he says, reaching for his wallet.

  Before he can pull out any money, the barista lifts a hand with a friendly grin.

  “No need, Dragon Slayer — I’ve got you today.”

  Markus blinks in surprise, then smiles softly. “Oh… are you sure? Thank you.”

  He waits as the drinks are prepared, then carries the cups carefully to the table. Steam curls up from the lids, catching the morning light as he sets them down.

  As he finishes his drink, his eyes drift up to one of the TVs mounted on the wall.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  The familiar title card of The Raccoon Report flashes across the screen.

  “…can you believe the news about the so-called ‘Dragon Slayer’? If that’s even his real name,” the host sneers.

  Markus rolls his eyes but keeps watching, the warmth from his coffee fading into a hard knot in his chest.

  “This man attacked a priest,” the anchor continues, dripping mock outrage. “Fake news claims the priest poisoned him — but come on! I’ve been going to church for twenty years and I’ve never once been poisoned.”

  Markus’s jaw tightens. He looks away, staring at the warped reflection of the screen in his coffee cup — that creeping, heavy feeling rising again.

  Liddle reaches across the table and gently strokes his hand.

  “Don’t worry,” she whispers. “No one takes that news seriously.”

  Before Markus can respond, the cashier behind the counter grabs the remote and flips the channel.

  The screen switches to Central News Network, the bold blue logo flashing across the screen.

  “Looking at this footage,” the anchor says, “it’s hard to believe that anywhere in America you’d see a woman nailed to a cross. And even more shocking — this so-called ‘Dragon Slayer’ actually pulled her out of the fire. We have to blur the scene because it’s too graphic to show.”

  The footage flickers — a faint, pixelated silhouette of Markus carrying someone through flames. The distorted image reflects in his eyes as he stares, unmoving.

  His chest tightens. The room suddenly feels smaller — the hiss of the espresso machine and the clatter of cups melting into a harsh, distant buzz.

  Smoke. He can almost smell it again. Screaming. The sound hits him like a wave. His hands tremble as he grips the edge of the table.

  Flashes — Mauna Loa, lifeless and gray. The dragon’s shadow sweeping across the ruins. The heat. The helplessness.

  “Markus?” Liddle’s voice is distant, muffled under the roar in his ears.

  He stumbles to his feet and rushes out of the café, heart pounding so hard it hurts. The cold air outside doesn’t help — it only makes it harder to breathe.

  “Markus!”

  Liddle catches up to him, grabbing his hand. She gently presses her forehead to his and wraps her arms around him.

  “Hey, hey… breathe with me. In… and out. Nice and slow,” she whispers, her voice steady but full of concern. “You don’t have to fight it. Just let it pass.”

  Markus’s breaths come out in sharp, uneven gasps. “When I let it pass… billions died,” he chokes, his voice shaking.

  Liddle freezes. “What?”

  “The dragon,” Markus says, clutching his chest. “I don’t slay anything. What if it comes back?”

  “Dragons never attack the same place twice,” Liddle says softly.

  Markus slams his fist against the ground, his voice cracking. “That’s because the dragon always destroys the place!”

  “Not always,” Liddle whispers, taking both his hands now. “We have you to thank for that. And I promise… if anything ever happens again, I’ll be there. You won’t face it alone.”

  Slowly, Markus begins to follow her breathing — in and out — until his heartbeat starts to steady.

  “I failed,” he says quietly. “If I really defeated that dragon, Sally and Kanna would still have their parents. I keep thinking about it — about one point two billion people, just… wiped out. Gone. Like their lives meant nothing.”

  Liddle squeezes his hand, her eyes soft but unwavering.

  “I know a lot of people didn’t make it back,” she says gently. “It must hurt more than anyone realizes… but there are still so many people who did. The world’s still moving — it’s healing. And it can do that because of you.”

  The café door creaks open.

  Sally steps outside, her voice small. “Is Daddy okay? You’ve been out here a long time.”

  Markus looks at her, and the question slips out before he can stop himself. “Do you miss your parents?”

  Silence fills the air. Liddle’s grip tightens around his hand as they wait for Sally’s answer.

  “Of course I do,” Sally said finally. Her eyes glistened, but she smiled through it. “But… I love what you’ve done for me. And thank you — for loving me like my real daddy did

  Markus’s eyes filled instantly. The only words he could manage were, “I love you.”

  He pulled Sally close, holding her for a long, quiet moment before standing again. His legs were still unsteady, but his breathing had finally evened out.

  Back inside, he finished the last of his coffee, warmth settling deep in his chest. Then he bought another to take on the road — something simple, something normal.

  Step by step, sip by sip, his nerves settled. Slowly but surely, Markus was finding control again.

  He hugged them both — a little longer than usual. “Mind if we check up on Ange? She got burned pretty bad.”

  He raised his hand, opening a portal that shimmered into existence. On the other side was the quiet street outside Ange’s house.

  They stepped through together. Sally’s eyes lit up when she spotted a cluster of frogs gathered by the puddles along the walkway.

  “Ribbit!” she giggled, pointing. “Ribbit, ribbit!”

  Markus smiled faintly at her imitation, feeling the last of the tension in his chest begin to lift.

  Then it snapped tight again.

  “Wait… the door’s open.”

  He grabbed his Mahoishi, his whole body tensing as he approached the house. Each step was careful, silent. When he peeked inside, he saw Lemres kneeling beside Ange, checking her vitals.

  “What’s happening?” Markus asked, voice low but urgent.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Lemres said quickly. “Watch her while I get Alexia.”

  He opened a portal and vanished in a flash of blue light.

  Markus stepped closer to Ange. “Hey… how are you doing?” he asked softly.

  She didn’t respond. Her eyes were half-open but unfocused, staring past him as if she couldn’t quite see. When he touched her neck, he flinched — her skin was dry and rough, almost grainy. Like sand.