The sunlight barely filtered through the leaves when Garlan opened his eyes, breathing hard.

  Garlan (inner voice, fast and uneven):

  Two children. Two. Not illusions, not mana avatars. Real ones—with legs, a mouth, and probably teeth way too early. But how do you even handle that?

  He rose slowly, slipping out of bed without waking Marenna. Then—crack—a twig.

  A weary voice drifted from the tree above:

  “It’s six in the morning, Garlan. You sound like a war drum.”

  Garlan (glancing up, whispering):

  “Virellia? You… you can read my thoughts?!”

  Virellia (eyes half-shut):

  “No. But you’ve been talking to yourself for ten minutes.”

  Garlan shuffled to a small pool, sat down, feet in the water. He inhaled—then burst out:

  Garlan:

  “What do they eat? Milk? Mana? Organic embers? And what if they cry at night? I sleep hot! I’m a walking furnace! What if I… roast them by accident?!”

  Visual insert: absurd image of a baby wearing a fireproof helmet. A fire alarm blares in the bedroom. Marenna sleeps peacefully in the background.

  Garlan (hands in his hair, spiraling):

  “What if I melt the crib?! Or the floor?! Or Marenna?! Damn it, isn’t being a dad supposed to be cool? Why does it feel like I’m carrying a volcano on slow cook?!”

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  Virellia (still unmoving):

  “Garlan. Breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Again. And again.”

  (He obeys like a child.)

  Behind him, a soft laugh.

  Marenna, awake, smiling, arms folded under her head:

  “You want me to knit you some overprotective-dad armor?”

  Garlan (serious but lost, stepping closer):

  “I’m not ready. I protect people by scaring things off. But now… I have to protect them without ever scaring them. Without ever hurting them. And that’s… harder than burning a demon.”

  (Marenna strokes his cheek.)

  Marenna:

  “Then we’ll be afraid together. But they’ll have the best father they could ever wish for.”

  (He smiles, a little less tense.)

  Garlan (regaining some lightness):

  “I’m still carving a few fireproof runes into the crib, though. You won’t hold it against me?”

  For the first time since waking, Garlan allowed himself a genuine smile. Then he muttered:

  “I’m definitely putting fireproof runes on the crib. Just in case.”

  Marenna sat up slowly and turned to Virellia, a little puzzled.

  “Tell me… is this normal? Are all males like this?”

  Virellia allowed herself a half-smile, almost maternal.

  “No, my child. Among dragons, once the mating is done, the males leave. They don’t stay to raise the young. It has always been so.”

  She glanced briefly at Garlan, still pacing and flailing in the background.

  “But I believe humans are different. Perhaps it’s their genetic legacy at work. And in his case… it’s a very loud one.”

  Marenna, thoughtful, returned to Garlan and crouched beside him.

  “Garlan… why are you panicking so much? You’ve never feared anything, not even demons. But now, you’re practically trembling.”

  He lowered his eyes, hesitated, then spoke with a raw edge in his voice:

  “It’s easy for you… You have Virellia. You have a guide. A figure to lean on. Me… I’ve got no father, no mother. No one ever told me what I’m supposed to do, or who I’m supposed to be. How can I be a good father if I’ve never seen what one looks like?”

  He lifted his gaze, determination flickering there.

  “I have to find my mother. Maybe she’ll have answers. Maybe then I’ll understand… what I really am.”