Chapter 4: Bonds in the Shadows

The days at the Drakhar estate passed in a rhythm that Kael was slowly becoming accustomed to. His body, though still small and weak, had begun to grow stronger, and his awareness of the world around him had sharpened considerably. He had lived a life before this, and that knowledge lingered in his mind, making his new existence even more complex.

He often thought back to the life he'd had on Earth—a life where he had been in control, where his decisions had mattered. Now, in the body of a child, he felt helpless and frustrated at times. He had to rely on others, had to wait for his body to catch up to the mind he carried. It wasn't an easy adjustment, but Kael knew that patience was key. He couldn't rush things—not yet.

His mother, a reserved and dignified woman, visited him regularly. She was calm and quiet, never doting or overly affectionate, but Kael didn't mind. He was still adjusting to her presence, the way she would sit by his crib or cradle him in her arms, her gaze searching as though she were trying to see what lay beneath the surface.

She never said much to him, and Kael preferred it that way. Her presence was enough—steady, reliable, and without unnecessary words. There was a sense of expectation in the way she looked at him, but it was subtle, always just beneath the surface.

The servants who cared for him treated him with quiet respect, though Kael could sense the distance in their actions. They handled him as though he were fragile, which often annoyed him. He had once been a man capable of doing everything for himself—being treated like something delicate only reminded him of how far he had fallen.

There was one servant, however, who treated him differently. Aelith, an older woman who had worked in the Drakhar household for years, seemed to understand that Kael wasn't like the other infants. She didn't coddle him, didn't speak to him in baby talk. Instead, she treated him like he was capable, even when his body wasn't.

"Still watching everything, aren't you?" Aelith said one day as she helped him sit up. "You're going to be sharp when you get older. I can tell."

Kael, though unable to respond, gave her a thoughtful look. There was something about Aelith that made him feel at ease. She saw more than the other servants did, and though she couldn't know that he had lived an entire life before this one, her attitude toward him made him feel like she understood, at least in part, that he was different.

Riven, his older brother, was a different story altogether. Riven was already well into his training, a boy full of energy and confidence, loved by their parents and admired by the servants. He was the favored heir, and it showed in the way he carried himself. Yet, despite the gap between them, Kael didn't feel a sense of resentment toward him—not yet.

Riven was often playful when he visited, his teasing remarks carrying a lightheartedness that Kael found both endearing and mildly frustrating.

"Look at you, still so tiny," Riven said one afternoon, leaning over Kael's crib with a grin. "You're going to have to work hard to catch up, you know. Don't worry, though—I'll give you a few tips once you're old enough."

Kael stared up at his brother, his small hands grasping at nothing. He couldn't respond, but the look in Riven's eyes was one of genuine affection, even if it was layered with teasing. Despite his older brother's confidence and superior position in the family, there was no malice in his words. Riven enjoyed his role as the older brother, and Kael could sense that there was a bond between them—one that had yet to fully form.

Still, it wasn't easy. Kael could do little but watch as Riven trained, ran, and played with the other children, all while he remained confined to the nursery or his crib. There were days when the frustration bubbled up, when the weight of being so small and weak made Kael long for the life he had left behind. But he knew that his time would come. He just had to wait.

Eventually, Kael was allowed to venture out into the courtyard, where the other children played. His legs were wobbly and unsure, but the feeling of being outside, of seeing the world beyond the confines of the nursery, was exhilarating. He wasn't fast or steady yet, but it didn't matter. He was free, at least for a while.

The courtyard was alive with the sound of laughter and footsteps, the older children running and playing games that Kael couldn't join in just yet. He watched from the edges, his eyes following the movements of a boy named Allian, who seemed to lead the group with ease.

Allian was a few years older than Kael, but there was something about the boy that drew Kael's attention. He was confident but not arrogant, kind but not soft. Kael had seen him many times from the nursery window, but now that he was in the courtyard, he felt both curious and hesitant.

Allian noticed Kael standing at the edge of the courtyard and, with a grin, jogged over to him.

"Hey there, little guy," Allian said, his voice friendly. "You watching us, huh? Want to play?"

Kael blinked up at him, unsure how to respond. He wasn't quite ready to join in, but Allian's offer felt genuine. Without waiting for an answer, Allian tossed him a ball, the motion casual and easy. Kael fumbled with it, his small hands unable to catch it properly, and the ball dropped to the ground.

Instead of laughing, Allian just smiled. "It's okay. You'll get it next time."

Kael nodded, though he wasn't sure if he believed it. Still, there was something comforting in Allian's attitude. He didn't treat Kael like a baby, even though he clearly was one. That small act of kindness—of treating Kael like he was part of the group—was enough to ease some of the frustration Kael had been feeling.

For the rest of the afternoon, Kael watched the older children play, occasionally fumbling with the ball when it was tossed his way. Allian was always patient, always ready to encourage him, and Kael found himself drawn to the boy's easygoing nature.

As the weeks passed, Kael's interactions with the other children became more frequent. He still struggled to keep up, still stumbled more than he liked, but he was learning. Each day, his legs grew stronger, his movements more coordinated. He was no longer just an observer—he was starting to become part of the group, even if his role was still small.

Riven, when he visited the courtyard, would occasionally watch Kael from a distance, a smile tugging at his lips. He seemed pleased to see his younger brother out there, even if he didn't say it outright.

"You're getting the hang of it," Riven said one day, after Kael managed to catch the ball without dropping it. "But don't get too comfortable. I'm still miles ahead of you."

Kael couldn't help but smile at that. Riven's teasing was less of a sting now and more of a reminder of the bond they shared. It wasn't perfect—it was still filled with the unspoken expectations of the Drakhar family—but it was real. And that was enough for now.

Kael's days were still filled with quiet frustration at his limitations, but there were moments of joy too. Moments where he could forget about the man he had been and simply be a child, learning to run, to play, to interact with the world around him. He was still growing, still figuring out his place in this new life, but he was beginning to understand the dynamics of the people around him.

For now, that was enough. He had time. Time to grow, time to learn, and time to figure out what his future in this family would truly mean.