Sons of a devil-Chapter 113: Laughter of legacy

From a distance, Selene stood by the garden archway, smiling warmly. Her long hair fluttered in the breeze, and the sapphire emblem of the queen rested on her gown like a second skin. Cain approached her, wrapping an arm around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder.

"They've worn him out again," he murmured.

Selene chuckled. "He won't admit it, but he lives for this. He missed so much of your childhood. He's trying to give it back in his own way."

Cain nodded, eyes fixed on the sight of his father laughing, playing, being whole. "He's not the man I used to fear."

"No," Selene said. "He's the man your sons adore."

The twins tumbled into a pile on the grass, giggling and wrestling, glowing softly with inherited magic. Caelan could now summon light like his mother—pure, healing, radiant. Azrael Jr. had inherited his grandfather's shadow magic, but it shimmered with Cain's fire and a bit of Leo's prankster spark.

Eira approached with a basket of fruits, followed by Eren and Leo. Zara trailed behind, hand in Leo's, visibly pregnant with their first child.

"You three always leave me with snack duty," Eira complained, handing the basket to her father.

"It's because you don't trust anyone else to carry them," Eren teased.

"Because you eat half before we arrive," she shot back.

"Exactly," Leo grinned.

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The family gathered beneath the ancient moonbark tree—once the kingdom's execution site, now a symbol of rebirth. Queen Isolde joined them, regal in her lavender robes, her smile softening as she knelt beside the twins and kissed their brows.

"Tell me," she asked them, "what did you learn today?"

Caelan raised a finger. "That Grandpa was the strongest king before Daddy!"

"And that he once turned into a dragon!" Azrael Jr. added, eyes wide with wonder.

The king looked amused. "That... may be a bit exaggerated."

"Still true," Cain muttered under his breath.

Laughter echoed. It was light and easy, like spring wind through the petals above.

The sun began its descent, casting golden hour rays over the family as they shared food and stories beneath the tree. The past—the wars, the tears, the betrayals—no longer weighed them down. It was part of their story, but not the whole of it.

Here, now, in the garden of peace, the next generation played without fear.

And the kingdom—reborn from fire and sorrow—watched its princes grow under the gaze of forgiven fathers and proud queens.

As the sun dipped lower into the horizon, painting the sky in strokes of rose and amber, the palace garden buzzed with quiet joy. The royal family had settled into their picnic beneath the Moonbark tree. The scent of honeyed bread and wild berries filled the air, mixing with the floral perfume of the blooms nearby.

Azrael Jr. curled up beside his grandfather, holding a shiny crystal that flickered with shadowy magic. "Grandpa, do you think I'll ever be as powerful as you?"

King Azrael placed a hand gently on the boy's head. "You're already more powerful, my little heir. You've inherited both light and shadow. Balance. Something I spent a lifetime seeking."

Azrael Jr. blinked. "But... you were scary before."

The king chuckled softly. "I was. And I'm sorry. I don't want you to remember me as that man."

"But I don't," Caelan said, crawling into his lap without hesitation. "You make the best shadow puppets."

That simple declaration, from a child who knew nothing of war or vengeance, pierced Azrael's heart with a strange warmth. He glanced at Isolde, who smiled knowingly and raised a glass of blossom wine in silent toast.

Nearby, Selene and Cain sat close together on a woven blanket, her head on his shoulder, her fingers tracing invisible patterns across his palm.

"I remember when we first met," she whispered. "You were all fire and fury, but your eyes—your eyes were searching for peace."

"And I found it," Cain murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair. "In you."

Selene closed her eyes, listening to the sound of the boys' laughter echoing through the garden. "They'll never know pain like we did."

"No," Cain agreed. "They'll know love. Safety. Family."

Eira, lounging beside a yawning Eren, was braiding flowers into a chain while Leo teased Zara about her waddle. She smacked his arm with mock outrage.

"I'm carrying your child, you insufferable goof."

"And you look stunning doing it," Leo grinned, kissing her cheek.

Eren looked over at Eira and smiled softly. "You braided those flowers for me?"

Eira looked up, feigning nonchalance. "Nope. For the twins."

"Liar," he teased, leaning in to steal a kiss.

Isolde clapped her hands gently, drawing everyone's attention. "We've been through so much. Today, let us honor not the battles we've won—but the love that survived it all."

She turned toward Azrael, her voice softer now. "And to the man who returned to us—not perfect, but present."

The king stood slowly, lifting his goblet. "To forgiveness. To family. To the future."

Everyone raised their glasses, even the twins—who held tiny cups of grape juice and shouted, "To the future!"

As the stars began to bloom across the night sky, Cain summoned gentle flames that floated like fireflies, lighting up the garden. Selene added her own touch—tiny, twinkling moons that shimmered above the children's heads.

Music began to play, soft strings and wind instruments drifting from the palace.

"Dance with me?" Cain asked, extending a hand.

Selene laughed, rising. "You've improved, haven't you?"

"Maybe a little."

They swayed together under the stars, joined slowly by the others. Even the maids nearby watched fondly, clapping gently along.

At the center of it all, the twins chased each other barefoot in the grass, magic trailing behind them like stardust. Azrael watched them, arms around his queen, and whispered, "This... this is what I was fighting for. I just didn't know it back then."

Isolde leaned into him. "Now you do."

And in the heart of the garden, surrounded by love, laughter, and legacy, peace reigned—not through conquest or fear—but through unity.