They woke to birdsong.
Real birds.
Not shards.
Not memories.
Just birds.
Law opened his eyes to a ceiling he didn't recognise.
Wood beams.
A crack of sunlight through curtains.
The smell of coffee.
He sat up slowly.
His body hurt in ordinary ways.
Sleep in his neck.
A bruise on his ribs from where Nysera had elbowed him in the night.
No crown.
No bloodline screaming.
No Mirror whispering.
Just quiet.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed.
The floor was cold.
Real cold.
He padded barefoot down a hallway he had never walked before.
But it felt like he had.
Photos on the wall.
Five kids in one frame, arms around each other, grinning at a camera that didn't exist yet.
Another photo: the same five, older.
Scars.
Smiles.
Alive.
He stopped at the kitchen door.
Laura was at the stove, flipping pancakes with one hand, the other holding a spatula like a sword.
Liora was setting the table, humming off-key.
Nysera was on the floor, wrestling with a big black dog that used to be a wolf.
Zero was stealing bacon from a plate and pretending he wasn't.
They all looked up when he appeared.
Laura's smile was small.
Real.
"Morning, sleepyhead," she said.
"You drool."
Law rubbed his face.
"I do not."
"You do," Liora said.
"Like a waterfall."
Nysera's dog barked once, happy.
Zero held out a piece of bacon.
"Breakfast of champions," he said.
"Or survivors."
Law took it.
It was crispy.
Perfect.
He sat.
They ate.
No one spoke for a long time.
They didn't need to.
Outside the window, the little girl from the chalk drawing was now in the backyard, chasing butterflies.
She looked up.
Waved.
Law waved back.
The dog barked.
The sun climbed higher.
The coffee was strong.
The pancakes were slightly burnt.
Everything was ordinary.
Everything was perfect.
Laura broke the silence first.
"So," she said.
"What do we do today?"
No one answered right away.
Then Zero grinned.
"Whatever the hell we want."
Nysera laughed.
Liora leaned her head on Laura's shoulder.
Law looked at them.
At the table.
At the ordinary morning light.
And for the first time in his entire life,
he didn't have an answer.
Because he didn't need one.
The dog stole another piece of bacon.
Laura swatted at it with the spatula.
Liora stole Laura's last pancake.
Nysera howled with laughter.
Zero raised his coffee mug.
"To mornings," he said.
"To mornings," they echoed.
Outside, the little girl finished chasing butterflies.
She sat in the grass.
And started drawing the sky again.
This time,
she drew six people at a table.
Five grown-ups.
One dog.
And a sun that was smiling.
She looked up at the window.
Waved again.
Law waved back.
The sky was blue.
The coffee was hot.
The dog was happy.
And for the first time in ten thousand years,
no one was watching.