I Built a Divine Zoo in Another World

Since then, Lukas explored the Dmond mansion with an enthusiasm that bordered on obsession.

He wasted no time. Every morning, as soon as Aurora took him out of the crib, he no longer even tried to escape. Why escape if his mother already let him out? He immediately began his journey.

He crawled through the stone corridors, stopping in every room, examining every object, every detail, every corner.

The great main hall was impressive.

Tall stone walls, rising more than five meters from floor to ceiling, supported a dark wooden structure from which hunting trophies and ancient banners hung.

Swords of different sizes and shapes were displayed on metal racks, polished until they gleamed even in the dim light. Shields, some scratched, others dented by old blows, decorated the walls in alternating patterns.

Complete suits of armor, the kind that covered a warrior from head to toe, stood on pedestals in the corners like silent guards.

Lukas crawled between them, carefully touching the blades, now much better at controlling his strength.

He did not want to break an ancient sword, not only because his parents would be upset, but because those objects told the story of his new family.

There, in that hall, he learned a little more about the Dmonds.

”We are barons,” Clavor explained one day, sitting in a chair while Lukas explored the room.

”We are not the richest nor the most powerful. But we are respected. Our strength comes from the sword.”

”Baron?” Lukas repeated, testing the word despite not knowing the meaning behind the title.

”Yes. We, the Dmonds, govern five villages. Small ones. Simple people who work the land and raise animals. They swear loyalty to us, and in return we protect them.”

”From what?” Lukas asked.

Clavor frowned, surprised by the depth of the question. But he answered.

”From monsters. From bandits. From beasts.”

Lukas absorbed the information.

’So this is not a peaceful world. There are threats. Dangers. And the Dmonds are protectors.’

The kitchen was another place he loved.

It was located at the back of the mansion, near the inner garden. A large room, warmed by two stone ovens that operated almost the entire day.

The smell was intoxicating, fresh bread coming out of the oven, vegetable soup bubbling inside a cauldron, and meats slowly roasting on iron spits. Dried herbs hanging from the ceiling released aromas of rosemary, thyme, and something Lukas still had not managed to identify.

The three cooks, middle-aged women with strong arms from kneading bread and faces marked by decades of work, always made a fuss whenever he came crawling through the doorway.

”Look who arrived!” exclaimed the eldest, a woman named Helga, with gray hair tied into a tight bun.

”The little young master came to visit us!”

They would place him in a tall chair near the oven, far enough away that he would not burn himself, close enough to feel the cozy warmth. They would also give him little pieces of mashed fruit or soft bread fresh from the oven.

”Here, sweetheart,” said another cook, a shorter, plump woman, offering him a piece of cooked apple.

Lukas ate happily. The food was simple but honest. There were no exotic seasonings or sophisticated techniques from Earth, but there was care.

You could feel that every dish was made with dedication, with love.

”Thank you,” he always said after finishing his food.

Helga exchanged surprised glances. Even after weeks of hearing it, they still marveled at the baby’s politeness.

”What a polite child... I always heard that nobles don’t usually thank servants.”

”Lukas isn’t like the other nobles.”

Lukas listened to those conversations and felt a warmth in his chest that did not come from the oven.

He also explored other rooms.

The dining hall, where the family gathered every night. A long, dark wooden table capable of seating twenty people, though it never held more than five.

Tall chairs with carved armrests. Silver candlesticks. Hand-painted dishes, each piece a small work of art.

Asmon’s room is on the second floor. An organized mess. Sweaty clothes tossed into one corner, training weapons leaning against the wall. The smell was sweat, metal, and youth.

Lukas entered only once, when Asmon invited him, and was surprised to see that his older brother had a small aquarium filled with colorful fish.

”They’re mine,” Asmon said proudly.

”I caught them in the river.”

”Pretty,” Lukas answered, watching the fish swim in circles.

”Take good care.”

Asmon laughed, ruffling his younger brother’s white hair.

Judite’s room was colorful chaos. Cloth dolls of all sizes were scattered across the bed, the floor, and the desk.

Drawings made with charcoal on scraps of parchment, scribbles Judite swore were horses, dragons, and flowers, covered the walls.

Dried flowers pressed between the pages of books she never read filled the room with a soft, slightly moldy fragrance.

”Do you like it?” Judite asked when Lukas visited her room for the first time.

”I cleaned everything just for you!”

”It’s... clean?” Lukas looked at a doll lying upside down on the floor beside a crumpled drawing.

”Yes! Very clean!”

He decided not to comment.

The inner garden was his favorite place after the kitchen.

Located at the center of the mansion, it was a small courtyard open to the sky, protected by tall walls on every side. It was like a hidden oasis. Strange flowers, in colors Lukas had never seen on Earth, grew in carefully maintained flowerbeds. There was a small pond filled with golden fish and a fountain that murmured softly throughout the entire day.

Butterflies with gleaming wings, some blue like sapphires, others red like rubies, and one especially beautiful butterfly that looked as though it had been made from golden dust flew between the flowers. They gently landed on petals before taking flight once more.

Lukas spent hours there, either sitting in Aurora’s lap or crawling between the flowerbeds while observing the butterflies.

’Different from Earth’s.’ he thought, his eyes fixed on a butterfly with translucent wings that looked as though they were made from thin glass.

’Not just in color. In structure. In flight.’

He wanted to study them. He wanted to understand them. He wanted to know whether they were distant relatives of Earth’s butterflies or if they had evolved along completely different paths.

But for that, he needed time. And books.

Books about the local fauna. About the biology of this world. About the creatures that inhabited the forests, rivers, and mountains.

And there was one place inside the mansion that Lukas suspected held exactly that kind of knowledge.