The two children had drawn their fathers' attention, with Caden smiling down at his son, Aiden, and his friend, Serena.

  "How was your first sword spar with Serena, Aiden? Was it…?" Caden's eyes flickered toward the faint bruise on his son's forehead. "Hm, that bump on your—"

  "It wasn’t Serena’s fault, Father. It was just a minor accident," Aiden quickly interjected, his voice unusually firm.

  Caden raised a brow, slightly taken aback. "Nothing bad or wrong from her at all."

  'Strange…' Caden mused, watching his son with mild intrigue. Aiden’s eyes carried a spark—a fierce protectiveness he had never seen before. 'The intent to protect burns bright in him… Did something happen today that stirred such a strong feeling?'

  His expression remained passive and relaxed, but inwardly, he was analyzing every detail. 'No… He’s just a child still. Unless…'

  He could not have known that his son had lived through an entire lifetime of suffering—a cycle of war, loss, and despair. He could not have known that Aiden’s mind, body, and soul had been tempered by the fires of a broken world, only to be sent back to his youth. Eight years old once more, his wish for a second chance granted by the dying light tree.

  Oblivious to the weight behind Aiden’s words, Ramiro, Serena’s father, rose from his seat and approached the children. He knelt before them, his presence composed, his demeanor cool and distant as always.

  "Serena hasn’t been trained in the way of the sword," he said. "It’s only natural that she struggles. She was born frail and learned certain things more slowly than others."

  As he spoke, he reached out—not to Aiden, but to Serena—his hand resting lightly atop her head. His touch was gentle, almost tender, a stark contrast to his detached tone. Caden’s expression darkened. "You sound rather harsh, don’t you think?" He crossed his arms, his brows knitting into a frown.

  Ramiro remained impassive. "It’s for her own good, my friend. And I trust she hasn’t been in any trouble to you, Aiden?" His gaze shifted from his daughter to the boy beside her.

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  "No, Lord Ramiro," Aiden answered, his tone polite but measured. "It’s like always. We spent time together, and… everything else came after."

  Ramiro studied the boy for a moment before nodding. "That’s pleasant to hear."

  For the first time, he smiled—faintly, briefly. Then, before withdrawing his hand from Serena’s head, he ruffled Aiden’s hair.

  Aiden huffed in mild annoyance, though he didn’t swat the hand away as he usually would. This small change caught Ramiro’s attention. He didn’t glare or pull away… 'A shift in his heart, perhaps?'

  Caden, however, remained unreadable, his demeanor indicating that he had something important on his mind.

  Sensing the conversation nearing its end, Ramiro straightened. "It’s time for us to take our leave, my friend. Serena and I will visit again tomorrow."

  He stepped past Aiden and gently pried Serena’s reluctant hands from where they clung to the back of Aiden’s shirt. Enclosing her small fingers on his own, he gave her a light tug. "Come now, Serena. Let’s return home."

  "Okay, Father…" Her response was quiet and hesitant, as it always was when their time together came to an end.

  She turned to Aiden, her eyes lingering on him as she mustered a small smile. "Let’s see each other again tomorrow, Aiden. And you too, Lord Caden." Her voice, soft and meek, carried a warmth that made Aiden’s chest ache.

  Without thinking, Aiden pulled her into a quick hug, one Serena melted into before stepping back.

  Caden shook hands with Ramiro, exchanging silent farewells, while Aiden watched Serena disappear through the tall doors, her hand still clasped in her father’s.

  And for a fleeting moment, the weight of his past and future blurred, leaving him standing still in the present—watching the girl he had sworn to protect, walk away.