Noah learned very early who mattered.
And more importantly—
Who did not.
The village they lived near was not large. It was a settlement shared by elves and a few humans who had married into elven families. Wooden houses were built carefully among the trees, never harming the forest. The air was calm, and people spoke softly.
The villagers were kind.
At least, that was what everyone said.
They smiled at Noah when he passed. They praised his silver hair, which caught the light strangely, and his calm eyes that seemed far too old for a child.
"Such a beautiful child," they said.
"So quiet and elegant."
They said similar things about Luca.
Luca had blonde hair like his mother, warm and bright, always a little messy. His smile was easy, and his presence felt open and welcoming. Standing next to Noah, the two brothers looked different but equally striking in their own ways.
Noah noticed the difference.
And did not mind it.
The neighboring elf families liked Noah and Luca very much.
They said the brothers were handsome.
They said they were pleasant to look at.
They said it often, as if appearance itself was enough reason for affection.
Noah listened.
And felt nothing.
Luca responded differently.
Luca smiled back.
Luca waved.
Luca laughed easily when praised.
The elves liked Luca more openly because of that.
They liked Noah too—but in a quieter, more uncertain way. Some felt drawn to him. Others felt slightly uncomfortable without knowing why.
Noah's eyes lingered too long.
His expression changed too little.
Still, no one complained.
After all, he was just a quiet child.
When an elf child tripped near the river, Noah did not move.
Luca did.
Luca rushed forward immediately, helping the child up, checking if they were hurt.
Everyone praised Luca.
"What a good boy."
"So kind."
Someone glanced at Noah, waiting.
Noah did not react.
He was watching Luca.
That was enough.
At home, Noah was different.
When Seraphina, with her blonde hair, hugged him, he relaxed.
When Elarion spoke, Noah listened carefully.
When Luca laughed, loud and careless, Noah felt steady.
The world narrowed.
Outside the house, people were vague shapes. Inside, everything was clear.
Noah noticed small things.
The way his mother hid her worries behind gentle smiles.
The way his father always positioned himself slightly ahead of the family.
The way Luca unconsciously stepped in front of Noah when voices grew loud.
They protected him.
So he protected them.
One evening, Luca came home with a bruise on his arm.
It was small.
Barely visible.
But Noah saw it immediately.
"What happened?" Noah asked.
Luca blinked. "Oh—nothing. I was sparring. I slipped."
Noah stared at the bruise.
In his previous life, Theodore had been covered in wounds no one noticed.
Now, one small mark on Luca felt wrong.
"Did they push you?" Noah asked.
Luca laughed. "No. Don't worry about it."
Noah nodded.
And remembered every face that had been there.
The villagers continued to adore the brothers.
Elves brought gifts.
Children wanted to play with them.
Adults praised their parents for raising such fine sons.
Noah responded politely.
He never opened his heart.
He never trusted.
He watched.
Elarion noticed.
"You don't like crowds," Elarion said gently.
Noah considered it.
"I don't dislike them," Noah replied. "I just don't need them."
Elarion studied him for a moment.
"You are very young to think that way."
"I learned early," Noah said.
Elarion did not ask how.
That night, Noah dreamed again.
He saw the battlefield.
He saw himself dying.
He saw people walking past.
Then the dream changed.
He saw his home.
His mother inside.
His brother laughing.
His father standing guard.
The rest of the world faded.
When Noah woke, his thoughts were calm and clear.
This family was his world.
Anyone outside it—
Did not matter.
Anyone who threatened it—
Would be dealt with.
The silver-haired boy closed his eyes.
And slept peacefully.