“Your guard is dropping,” Aster said and Kaz barely blocked his strike. “Fix it.”

Kaz brought the sword up higher, and Aster released a weird combo on him that he struggled to block, forced back as he tried to make sure his footwork was clean. The two of them circled around each other, and then Aster lunged. Kaz batted astride the strike and slid to the left, trying to swing for his throat, but Aster’s sword swept up and blocked it. The two of them separated again, prowling around each other, and Kaz unleashed an attack, sloppy and clumsy compared to Aster’s smooth swordplay. Aster blocked each strike, and then got inside Kaz’s guard, forcing his arm wide and headbutting him. Blood gushed out of Kaz’s nose, and he stumbled back and fell on his ass.

“Owww,” he said, because that was the third bloody nose this month, and Aster went on his knee in front of him.

“You’ve really got to get better about leaving yourself open to headbutts,” he said, not sounding sympathetic in the least, and Kaz pinched his nose. Aster offered him a handkerchief, and Kaz took it, blocking the blood flowing out.

“I know,” he said miserably.

“It’s a problem,” Aster said, and Kaz tilted his head back and closed his eyes.

He was twelve now, and they had just celebrated his birthday, aka the day Aster found him. Hadrian hadn’t left. He stayed, and Aster and him slept in the same bed now. It had taken literally a solid six months before they were at that point, but they loved each other. It was a happy existence. Sword training happened in the late morning, after they went hunting, and magic training happened in the afternoon. Hadrian was very stringent about Kaz’s education. He had to know history, modern politics, economics, all sorts of things he was never going to use. It wasn’t just magic.

Which was frustrating, but he supposed it was fine.

So far, he had successfully avoided the plot. School for the nobility started in three years, and he had yet to be found by his father. He was home clear, and he was happy about it. So long as he avoided Richard for the next three years, he would be fine. And it wasn’t like Richard was going to visit a huntsman. Why would he? Even if Aster had a… questionable history that Kaz still didn’t know the details of.

“Kaz! Aster!” Hadrian called as he walked out of the forest, wading through the flowers and tall grass that had sprung up around the cabin. Aster looked up, and his expression softened at the sight of Hadrian. “Aster! Did you give him a bloody nose again?”

“Sorry,” Aster said, but he didn’t sound all that sorry. Hadrian sighed and dropped down to one knee in front of Kaz and lifted his hand. A magic circle appeared in the air, and Kaz’s nose immediately stopped hurting. “I’m going to get started on lunch.”

“Mmm,” Hadrian said and leaned up for a kiss, and Aster pressed a kiss to his lips before he disappeared into the cabin to get started on lunch. “I got more books.”

Another magic circle appeared in his hand, and books tumbled out onto the grass. Kaz picked them up and read over the titles there.

“The Complexites of Demonic Culture?” he asked, reading the title aloud, and Hadrian shrugged.

“That’s going to be the next unit,” Hadrian said and ruffled Kaz’s long hair, pulled back in a ponytail. “We’re going to be going over demons.”

Kaz definitely didn’t remember demons being a thing in the otome game, but what did he know? It was all according to what was relevant to the plot, without much flavor otherwise.

“Okay,” he said and stood. Hadrian stood with him, and the two of them made their way towards the cabin. Well, they started making their way to the cabin, but Hadrian grabbed him by the arm.

“Can I check something?” he asked, and Kaz blinked.

“Sure,” he said, and Hadrian drew him back to the middle of the clearing. There was a garden out back now, where they grew fresh fruits and a lot of root vegetables, and Hadrian gestured for Kaz to sit down in the grass. Kaz sat, and a magic circle appeared around him. A long silence unfurled as Hadrian flipped open his journal he always kept on him and scribbled in it, glancing between Kaz and whatever he was looking at that Kaz couldn’t see.

Hadrian looked troubled. Hadrian looked very troubled, and Kaz shifted in discomfort. After some time, he snapped the journal shut and waved his hand, dismissing the circle, that broke apart and turned into floating, glowing sparks.

“Alright,” Hadrian said, and turned for the cabin. “Let’s go inside and help Aster with lunch.”

“What was that?” Kaz asked, and Hadrian glanced down at him.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” Hadrian promised, and Kaz frowned. What did that mean?

“Why can’t you tell me now?” Kaz asked, and Hadrian patted his head absentmindedly, with that expression on his face like his mind was a million miles away.

“It’s not time yet,” he said, with a furrow in his brow. He was bothered. He was very bothered, and that bothered Kaz. What was that magic circle? He had never seen that magic before, and he had seen a lot of magic. Hadrian taught him a new spell almost every day, and he had learned a lot of magic.

Even so, Kaz knew pressing was pointless. Hadrian was a brick wall, and Kaz knew he couldn’t manage to bulldoze through. It was annoying, but Kaz would find out when he found out. Or, he would look in Hadrian’s books while he was supposed to be in bed.

The two of them entered the cabin, where the interior had changed rapidly over the past eight years. There were books piled up everywhere, shoved into shelves, and there were all sorts of plants hanging up to dry. Hadrian grew a lot of herbs in the garden and brought in income by selling tinctures and poultices. He was the herbalist to the general public in town, and they often came to him for help, trekking all the way out to the cabin to request herbal remedies. He went to market on Saturdays to sell his wares, and Kaz typically went with him.

Aster was chopping up veal for lunch, salting and peppering it and tossing it in the skillet over the fire. Kaz joined him and started chopping up the potatoes, and Hadrian started preparing the barley tea. Aster pulled out a loaf of bread from the bakery and started slicing it up, and Kaz finished chopping up the potatoes and added them to the pan. Aster started the laborious process of spreading it with Hadrian’s special seasoning, and Kaz sat down at the table and started chewing on a piece of bread slathered in butter. Honey was too precious for a snack, but he wished he could have some on the bread.

“Don’t eat too much of that or you won’t finish your lunch,” Aster said and tweaked a stray flyaway as he passed Kaz, and Kaz tilted back his head.

“I won’t,” he promised, and Aster pressed a kiss to Hadrian’s cheek.

“Picked up some new books?” he asked, and Hadrian nodded.

“I did,” he confirmed and set the kettle over the fire.

“We’re running out of space,” Aster said grimly, and Hadrian rolled his eyes.

“It’s fine.”

“I’m gonna build you a shed,” Aster threatened, as if Hadrian would ever let his precious book collection go in a shed, and Kaz opened the book on tales of dragons. He had developed a special interest in dragons, mostly because he was 100% sure he was a drakon, or a half-dragon, halfbreed, bastard, whatever the common folk wanted to call it. Mostly because he had discovered lesser dragons couldn’t shift, which left him with two options: either he was a greater dragon, or a drakon. And he wasn’t inclined to believe he was a greater dragon, considering he hadn’t been around since the dawn of time.

The thing was, Shyllian, the death dragon, had never had any children, same as Ferrilin, the life dragon. And he was pretty fucking sure he was a death dragon offspring, judging from the fact that in the otome, Kazerine breathed necrotic breath. Which meant he was the first, and the only one of his kind. Which was distressing for a variety of reasons, mostly because it stank of main character syndrome. The thing that got him, though, was that he had no special abilities that typically came with being a drakon. He had tried to shapeshift so he could have his male body, and it had fruited no results, which meant he was just… here.

But, his magic capacity was inhuman. He knew that. He knew things that Hadrian knew and didn’t say. Which was probably why Hadrian checked him just now. He wasn’t able to turn into a dragon, wasn’t able to turn into a half dragon form, wasn’t even able to turn his gender into what it actually should be. It was like there was a lock on his power. He still didn’t know why Hadrian and Aster didn’t talk about Shyllian. He had read enough that he knew who she was, but he didn’t know who she was, or why his fathers refused to mention her.

It was a problem, he thought in irritation. It was a big problem. It was like they knew something he didn’t.

For a long time, he had thought of this world like he was in a coma, and none of it was real. But, he was being confronted with a full, rich history the original game developers could have never came up with, and he was coming to realize this was the real life. His parents were real. The townsfolk were real. He was real. All of this was real.

And that was distressing. He knew his original body was dead, but… He had hoped he could go back someday. That was becoming rapidly apparent that it wasn’t possible. His diabetes had killed him, and thank gods he hadn’t ended up with diabetes again in this lifetime. He wouldn’t have survived longer than a few months before he died again.

With a sigh, he flipped to the next page of the book, and a new book dropped loudly in front of him. He blinked and looked up, and Hadrian sat down across from him and pushed the book to him.

“It’s time to learn about demons,” he said, and Kaz pulled a face.

“Can’t it wait until after lunch?” he asked, and Hadrian picked up the book he was reading and set it aside.

“No,” he said with a smile Kaz didn’t entirely like. “Let’s go over the basics.”

“Okay,” Kaz said testily, and Hadrian cleared his throat.

“As you know, there are three realms. The demonic realm, the mortal realm, and the heavenly realm,” he said, and Kaz was quiet. “Demonic forces make up the demonic realm, and are separated into two classes: greater and lesser, just like dragons and nephilim. Demons, unlike mortals, have no cap on their mana, and are able to siphon it off from other living beings. Once a lesser demon reaches a certain threshold of mana, they evolve into a greater demon.”

Literally none of this showed up in the original otome, and that was one reason Kaz was inclined to believe this entire world was real. The worldbuilding was too expansive compared to the game to make any other excuse.

“Greater demons can siphon from greater dragons, but they can be one shot by the breath of a greater dragon, so they typically don’t try it. Lesser demons cannot siphon from greater dragons, but they can siphon from lesser dragons. Well, they can try to siphon a greater dragon, but it would kill them immediately,” Hadrian explained, and Kaz wondered if any of this was going to come up in his lifetime. Probably, if a demon showed up and tried to siphon off him. “Greater demons are sterile, but lesser demons often mate with mortals, particularly the women, to make half-demon children they can siphon off of to increase their mana. Those children typically die before the age of twenty.”

“What about half-demon children of the men?” Kaz asked, and Hadrian pursed his lips.

“Either they avoid their fathers and survive, or they don’t,” he said, and Kaz blinked. “They can become a lesser demon by making a pact with a greater demon or, on rare occasions, a dragon, but that rarely happens. They typically don’t survive long enough to pull it off, and dragons are ill-inclined to help demons and their children.”

“Why is that?” Kaz asked, and Hadrian sighed.

“Many demons target dragons to increase their rank. They go to the mortal plane for huntings,” he explained, and Kaz blinked. Oh. Oh, that was pretty bad. “Why would a greater dragon make a lesser demon when it may go on to kill their children?”

“Oh,” Kaz said quietly, and Hadrian nodded.

“Now, while dragons reside over the domain of elements and life and death, demons reside in three sects: heart, mind, and soul, and the magic that goes into that. Lesser demons, much like lesser dragons, live for about 5,000 years before they have to die. The difference is while dragons typically just go into a slumber until another dragon mercy kills them or the earth takes them, lesser demons start bleeding mana and are targeted by other demons for siphoning or just simply killed. Or they die on their own. Greater demons, like greater dragons, do not age. Most lesser demons try to reach the rank of greater demon before they turn 5,000. Many fail. It is extremely difficult.”

“Okay, I think I understand. Do greater demons reincarnate like greater dragons?” Kaz asked, and Hadrian shook his head no.

“No,” he said, and Kaz was quiet. “They are extremely difficult to kill, but once they are dead, they are dead.”

“If there’s a bunch of greater demons, shouldn’t there be a demon king? Or queen?” Kaz asked, and Hadrian rolled his eyes.

“They certainly think one will show up, but I personally think it’s impossible,” he said, and Kaz tilted his head.

“Why?”

“A demon king must be able to master heart, soul, and mind magic. It’s virtually impossible to do. They’ve been trying for thousands of years now, and none of what they’ve done has worked.”

“Huh. Okay,” Kaz said, and Hadrian pushed the book across the table to him.

“Now, read,” he demanded, and Kaz opened the book as Aster got a cloth wrapped around the handle of the pan and shook around the meat and potatoes. It was starting to smell good, and all Kaz could be bothered to think about at this point was food. This was tedious, he thought as he started the book on demons, but he may run into one at some point, so he supposed he would read it. He had little other choice.

Then again, he could just literally never leave this forest. It wasn’t like a demon was going to find him in this backwater county. He had managed to avoid his dad for eight years now while living in his territory, so he supposed he could just as easily live with Aster and Hadrian for the rest of his life, but…

He’d like to figure out why he couldn’t shapeshift. Maybe Hadrian knew something about it, and was saying nothing. He knew his fathers would let him live as a man, but his body had other ideas. Already, he had grown some little mosquito bites, and it was only a matter of time before he had to figure out how to get his hands on a compression bra at the least in a literal fantasy verse.

Maybe he would be flat.

He hoped he’d be flat.