The wind had a silent chill... carried through the lonely corridors of Helios Manor. The lanterns, set at regular intervals along the walls, testified to a hollow extravagance casting elongated shadows in the corners, twisted and coiled like specters waiting to whisper secrets into the ears of those who were willing to listen.
A boy is standing near one such lantern, his small frame leaning slightly against the cold stone wall. His golden eyes, unnaturally sharp for a child of nine, flared with an unsettling unease as he stared at the dim hallway stretching before him.
The whispers were here again.
Soft, uncoordinated murmurs slithered through the silence, like a snake crawling in one's skin. He couldn't figure out the words, but they always left a cold, gnawing feeling in his chest. It wasn't fear. No, fear was something he had learned to suppress long ago. This was different—like a wound he had never noticed but had been bleeding all along.
"Rai?"
A small voice called out, pulling him from his thoughts.
Raizen turned to find his younger brother, Ryan, peering at him from the entrance to his room. The five-year-old's bright blue eyes were filled with concern, his tiny hands clutching the fabric of his nightshirt.
"You're awake."
Ryan hesitated, then nodded. "I had a bad dream," he admitted softly. "But when I woke up, I saw your door open, so…"
Raizen's gaze softened. He pushed himself off the wall and walked over, placing a hand on his brother's head. " You should... uh... go back to sleep, Ryan."
"But…"
Ryan's small fingers gripped Raizen's sleeve, he looked troubled. He didn't say it out loud, but Raizen understood. His little brother had been coming to him more frequently these past few months, as if he could sense the silent weight pressing down on him.
Raizen sighed and knelt, meeting his brother's eyes. "I'll... stay until you fall asleep. How about that?"
Ryan's face brightened just a little, and he nodded.
As they stepped inside, Raizen helped him onto the bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. The boy yawned, already looking sleepy.
"Rai…" Ryan mumbled, his voice growing sluggish. "You always wake up at night. Do you… have bad dreams too?"
Raizen didn't answer immediately.
Dreams. If only they were just that.
Images—disjointed, chaotic, and far too vivid—had haunted him for as long as he could remember. Places he had never seen, people whose names he somehow knew, and a battlefield steeped in blood and fire. He had stood there before, sword in hand, facing a man whose dark heart had been pierced by his blade.
"For the atrocities and misery you've brought to the world…"
A voice—his own, yet not—echoed in his mind.
"You shall suffer."
Raizen blinked, pushing the thought away before it could consume him.
"Hah… It's nothing," he finally said. "Go to sleep, Ryan."
Ryan let out a sleepy hum of acknowledgment before his breathing evened out, his small hands curling into the blanket.
Raizen watched him for a while before sighing. He quietly rose to his feet, making his way back toward the door.
And then, just as he stepped into the hallway—
"Why do you care for him so much?"
The voice was calm, yet sharp. Raizen's back stiffened.
Teriel Helios, his stepmother, stood further down the hallway. Dressed in an elegant night robe, her dark hair was neatly tied back, and her sharp features were unreadable.
Raizen met her gaze without flinching. "He's my brother."
"Your half-brother," she corrected coldly. "And you would do well to remember that."
He said nothing.
Her expression remained composed, but there was something in her eyes—a quiet warning.
"I've told you before," she continued, voice as smooth as ice, "Ryan doesn't need unnecessary influences. You should stop clinging to him like this."
Raizen felt his fingers twitch. A part of him wanted to argue, but what good would it do? She would never listen.
"…Understood," he muttered.
Teriel studied him for a moment longer before turning away. "Go back to your room."
Raizen didn't move until she disappeared into the darkness of the hallway.
Only then did he allow himself to exhale.
"...Aren't we... just children?"
His mother had died giving birth to him. His father—the Marquess—had barely acknowledged his existence since then. And his Stepmother Teriel… she had never hidden her disdain.
It had been like this for as long as he could remember.
Yet, none of that even mattered.
He wasn't alone.
Atleast not yet.
With one last glance at Ryan's door, Raizen turned and walked away.
"You... a- are n- not de- deserving o- of happiness"
Raizen looked back, startled. Then exclaimed,
"Who... Who are you?"