CHAPTER 29: CHAPTER 29 - NOT A HOUSE BUT HOME.

The clearing was alive with anticipation.

Over two hundred demihumans crowded the space, eyes bright, tails twitching, ears perked, and wings fluttering.

They weren’t just expecting houses. They were expecting Kael to do something Kaelish.

Kael, who was standing at the center of the clearing with the setting sun spilling gold into his hair, knew it.

He gave them that smile—the one that made even the sternest warriors forget the weight on their shoulders—and raised his voice.

"Before we begin," he said softly, yet every ear heard him, "I want each family... to choose their tree."

A ripple of surprise ran through the crowd.

"Go on," Kael chuckled. "Look around. Find the one that feels like yours. Tall or crooked, leafy or scarred—it doesn’t matter. A home begins not with walls, but with a choice."

They moved hesitantly at first, then, after talking among themselves, wondering if this was some test, they all turned eager.

The demihumans gathered weren’t families. Some of them were, but most weren’t.

The ones who had families moved to the trees they all thought were good.

A family of foxfolk ran giggling toward a thick oak.

"Oho, looks like Yeren is fixated on having an oak, huh?" Kael smiled as he saw that.

The little boy from the family had his eyes widen, tugging at his mother’s sleeve. "Mom! He called my name!"

A harpy mother led her chicks to a slender birch, making Kael raise a brow. "Good choice, little Aro. A birch is quite sturdy."

One of the little chicks giggled, jumping to her feet as she realized that Kael also knew her name.

By now, every other child, and even some adults, was looking at him, wondering who he was going to call out.

After all, to them, Kael was someone so great that having him know their names was more than enough to make them happy.

Kael, however, turned toward a stoic wolfman pressing his palm against a weathered pine, while his mate nodded silently beside him.

"That one suits you, Ronan. It looks stubborn," Kael chuckled at the guy, making the guy, who wasn’t expecting to be called out like that, scratch the back of his head, his mate giggling beside him.

The crowd laughed, gasped, and whispered, ’How did he know them all?’

Kael merely smiled at them, and soon, when every family stood before a tree, Kael raised his hand, and the clearing fell into silence.

"Listen to me," he said. His voice carried warmth now, like a fire in the cold. "A home is not a stone. Not wood. Not walls."

He spread his arms, turning slowly to let every gaze meet his. "A home is where you laugh so hard your stomach hurts. A home is where you cry without shame. A home is where you are not alone."

Heads bowed. Eyes glistened. The crowd held its breath.

"So," Kael said gently, "I will not decide your homes. You will."

He placed a hand on the nearest tree.

"Whisper to it. Whisper your wish of what a home means to you. Your trees will listen. I’ll listen too, just enough to guide them. But the secrets... stay between you and the roots."

One by one, voices rose like wind in the leaves. Some whispered. Some prayed. Some children shouted gleefully, "I want a big room!"

The forest shivered. The ground pulsed faintly.

Kael stepped back, a sly smile tugging at his lips. "Now... Watch closely."

He snapped his fingers.

The clearing moved.

Roots uncoiled like serpents, branches stretched as if yawning awake, and trunks bent and twisted with grace instead of groans.

Under the astonished eyes of the people standing near their trees, bark peeled and smoothed, forming doorways, branches braided into rooftops, and flowers unfolded across windowsills.

Gasps echoed everywhere.

A foxfolk hut shaped itself with arched roots like protective arms.

A harpy nest rose upward, the tree cradling platforms like open wings.

The wolfman’s pine shaped into a hall of pillars, strong and steady.

One after another, each tree turned into a house, some crooked, some disfigured, but for the ones who had envisioned them, they were perfect.

It went on and on until the forest was no longer just trees—it was a village that was alive, breathing, and glowing with fireflies that floated around.

Kael stood at the center, arms open wide as if presenting a finished masterpiece.

"Now," he called with a grin, "tell me—did we make houses?"

"No!" The children cried first.

"What did we make?"

"Homes!" The clearing roared back, their voices breaking into laughter and cheers.

Kael chuckled as he watched them run toward their new lives.

Feeling their excitement, eagerness, and happiness, he smiled like a showman who had just pulled off his greatest trick—not bending trees, but bending despair into joy.

"Big Brother!"

The voice cut through the crowd’s cheers, sharp, joyous, and familiar.

Kael’s smile curved wider before he even turned. He braced himself just in time to catch a blur of fur and tails launching into his arms.

Rue hit his chest with all the force an eight-year-old fluffball could muster, her tail puffing wildly as she giggled.

"How did you do it?! I liked it! Do it again!" She demanded breathlessly, her purple eyes sparkling.

Kael chuckled, spinning her once in his arms like she weighed nothing. "You want me to bend the whole forest, little fox? What if I accidentally bend the world instead?"

Rue gasped dramatically, gripping Kael’s shirt. "Then we’ll live on the moon!"

He laughed, head shaking. But before he could answer, he felt a gentle tug at his sleeve.

Looking down, he found Rina, quieter and slower, her soft ears twitching as she stared up at him.

Without a word, Kael bent down, scooping her up into his other arm.

She buried her face against his shoulder, cheeks pink, whispering so only he could hear. "...It was pretty."

Kael’s smile softened. He carried them both with ease—Rue bubbling with excitement, Rina tucked close like a secret—and turned as footsteps approached.

Alenia was first, her arms folded loosely, lips curved in something halfway between fond amusement and resigned exasperation.

"I should’ve known you’d turn spectacle into policy," she murmured, shaking her head. "A whole village with a snap of your fingers."

Others just giggled while Kael merely shrugged, glancing at the earth bear standing some distance away.

It was stretching its back with a low, satisfied groan.

For the first time all day, his eyes looked almost... relieved.

"Finally. Off my back. I was starting to lose muddy fur," he muttered, glaring halfheartedly at Rue, who only stuck out her tongue.

"Big Brother!" Rue chirped again, tugging Kael’s collar. "When do we get our home?"

Kael arched a brow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Now, if you like. Tell me, girls—what kind of rooms do you want?"

Rue flung her arms high. "A big room! With a big bed! No—a big bouncy bed!"

Rina peeked up shyly, voice soft. "...A window seat. To read."

Kael nodded as if their requests were the most solemn commands in the world.

His gaze then slid toward Alenia, Lyra, Evethra, and Selene. "And you guys? Any wishes before I snap my fingers?"

They exchanged glances, caught off guard.

But then, Alenia, ever composed, pressed a hand to her chin. "A study. Quiet, functional."

Evethra followed, bowing slightly. "I wish to be next to you, Master. That is more than enough for me."

Lyra’s voice wavered, though her eyes glowed. "A garden... with flowers. For the children."

Selene hesitated, then whispered, "A perch. High enough to see the sky."

Kael hummed as though taking notes in his head. His eyes flicked once toward the bear—but he didn’t ask. He already knew.

With Rue squealing on one arm and Rina nestled on the other, Kael raised his hand.

Snap.

Roots burst from the ground where their hut once stood.

They twisted upward, curving and weaving, branches fanning into eaves. In moments, a two-floored Japanese-style home rose from the earth—graceful lines, sliding doors, and broad windows.

Flowers bloomed at the edges of the garden. A quiet nook formed by a wide window seat glowed as sunlight filtered through.

Higher still, a sturdy balcony curved outward, perfect for wings to stretch into the wind.

Finally, at the side, massive roots bent to create a vast, garage-like alcove, shaded and wide.

It was a den, a fortress, and a resting place.

The earth bear squinted, grumbling. "...That’ll do."

Then, without another word, he stomped forward, shoved his bulk into the space, and flopped down with a satisfied thud that made the ground tremble.

Kael smirked, golden eyes glinting as he lowered Rue and Rina to the ground. "Welcome home."

The clearing filled not with cheers this time, but with a softer sound—laughter, relieved and full, echoing like the breath of a new beginning.

This was the demihumans’ first night of freedom, and despite not having much to eat, they still enjoyed every moment of the night.

Because, for the first time, they were sleeping in a place they could call home.