Jack did not sleep deeply.
Knights trained themselves not to.
Even in safe towns.
Even in warm beds.
Years of discipline had sharpened his senses beyond comfort.
That warmth from earlier—
It lingered faintly in his memory.
Not fire.
Not magic in the crude sense.
Something older.
Controlled.
He rose before dawn.
Quietly.
Stepped into the hallway.
The bakery below was still.
He paused near the staircase leading upward.
Listened.
Soft footsteps.
A child's voice.
"…again."
A man's low reply.
"Just once more."
Jack frowned slightly.
He did not know why he was listening.
He did not know why he cared.
But something in his chest felt unsettled.
He turned away.
For now.
---
Upstairs—
Edward was crouched on the floor, wooden practice sword in hand.
Elsa stood opposite him.
Her stance was crooked.
Unbalanced.
Determined.
"No," Edward corrected gently, adjusting her grip. "You don't swing wide.
Keep it close."
She swung anyway.
Missed entirely.
Almost fell.
He caught her before she hit the floor.
She laughed.
The sound filled the small room.
Edward's expression softened.
"Again," she demanded.
"You'll grow strong if you keep that up," he said.
"I am strong."
He raised a brow.
She puffed her cheeks.
Then—
Without warning—
She moved faster than before.
Not dramatically.
But enough.
Her small wooden blade tapped his wrist before he could react.
He froze.
So did she.
The air warmed slightly.
Her eyes flickered—
Gold.
Just for a second.
Edward released her wrist slowly.
"…That was good," he said evenly.
She smiled.
Proud.
He forced himself to smile back.
Inside—
Something tightened.
She was growing.
Faster than she should.
---
Later that morning—
Jack sat near the bakery window, observing the town as he ate.
He noticed patterns.
Who spoke to whom.
Who avoided whom.
His gaze eventually lifted.
Upward.
The small window above the bakery was open slightly.
A child's silhouette appeared briefly.
A cap.
Dark hair.
Watching the street carefully.
Not playfully.
Carefully.
Their eyes met.
Just for a second.
The child didn't wave.
Didn't smile.
She simply studied him.
Then stepped back from view.
Jack's fingers paused around his cup.
Most children either stared boldly at knights—
Or avoided them entirely.
That look had been different.
Measured.
---
Edward saw Jack that afternoon.
Recognition was immediate.
Time had sharpened Jack.
Made him straighter.
Harder.
But his face was the same.
Older brother of the village.
Edward felt something cold settle into his bones.
Jack noticed him too.
A flicker of surprise.
Then—
"…Edward?"
The name felt foreign in the open air.
Edward nodded once.
"Jack."
Silence stretched between them.
Years of it.
"I thought you were dead," Jack said quietly.
Edward gave a small shrug.
"Almost."
Jack studied him.
Scars.
Worn equipment.
Steady posture.
"You became an adventurer."
Edward nodded again.
"You became a knight."
A faint, restrained smile touched Jack's lips.
"For the kingdom."
Edward said nothing.
Jack glanced toward the bakery.
"You have family here?"
Edward's heartbeat slowed deliberately.
"Yes."
Jack's gaze sharpened slightly.
"Wife?"
"No."
The pause was almost imperceptible.
"…Daughter."
The word hung in the air.
Jack looked surprised.
"You?"
Edward didn't react.
Jack exhaled slowly.
"I didn't expect that."
Edward's voice remained calm.
"Neither did I."
Silence again.
Then Jack spoke carefully.
"There are rumors of dragon activity in the western forest."
Edward's pulse did not change.
"I heard."
Jack watched him closely.
"Strange things happen when dragons move."
Edward met his gaze evenly.
"Strange things always happen."
Jack studied him for another long moment.
Searching.
For fear.
For guilt.
For something.
He found none.
Just steadiness.
He nodded slowly.
"If you hear anything unusual… report it."
Edward inclined his head.
"Of course."
---
That evening—
Elsa sat by the window again.
Watching the knight leave town on horseback.
Her fingers gripped the edge of the sill.
"Father."
Edward paused behind her.
"Yes?"
"That man."
He waited.
"He smells… like steel."
He almost smiled.
"That's accurate."
She shook her head.
"No."
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"He smells like when animals don't run."
Edward's breath stilled.
Predators.
He knelt beside her.
"Stay away from him."
She tilted her head.
"Why?"
"Because not everyone who protects… understands."
She looked thoughtful.
Then asked quietly—
"Am I wrong?"
The question struck him harder than any blade.
He placed his hand gently on her head.
"No."
He did not hesitate.
"You are not wrong."
Her shoulders relaxed.
But his did not.
---
That night—
Jack stopped at the edge of town.
He looked back once.
The warmth he had felt earlier pulsed faintly again.
Subtle.
Hidden well.
But there.
He did not draw his weapon.
He did not investigate further.
Not yet.
But something in his instincts whispered:
Watch.
---
Above the clouds—
Ancient eyes observed the town briefly.
The scent was undeniable now.
Half-blood.
Growing.
The Dragon Lord did not descend.
He remembered fire.
He remembered blood.
He remembered a daughter who chose love.
His massive wings shifted once.
Then stilled.
He would not interfere.
He had already interfered once.
And destroyed everything.
---
Back in the small room above the bakery—
Edward lay awake long after Elsa had fallen asleep.
He stared at the ceiling.
Jack was close.
Too close.
The world was beginning to notice.
And he understood something clearly now:
It was no longer enough to simply hide.
Soon—
He would have to choose.
Run again.
Or stand.