The night air was still.
Lucius stood with his wooden sword gripped tightly, his breathing measured, his body tense. Across from him, Adrian rolled his shoulders, his usual smirk still present—but his eyes had sharpened.
For weeks, Adrian had been watching, waiting.
Now, it was time to test how much Lucius had truly learned.
The spar had started as a game—a mere test of skill.
But the moment Lucius had landed a clean strike against Adrian's shoulder, everything changed.
The air grew heavier.
Adrian's smirk faded.
"Alright then," Adrian thought, twirling his sword with ease. "Let's end this."
Lucius barely had time to react before Adrian moved.
It was fast.
Too fast.
A blur of motion—before Lucius even registered the attack, his wooden sword was knocked aside, and a sharp strike slammed into his ribs.
His body staggered backward, pain flaring in his side.
But he gritted his teeth and pushed forward.
His magic flared—just enough to keep his body steady.
He adjusted his stance, tried to counter—
But Adrian was already gone.
A sharp crack!—his wrist stung as Adrian's blade knocked his grip loose.
Another hit—this time to his shoulder.
Lucius struggled to keep up.
He had gotten faster, stronger—but Adrian was beyond him.
Lucius swung wildly, hoping to create an opening.
But Adrian saw it.
Too predictable.
A swift strike to his legs—and Lucius collapsed.
Before he could even try to rise, a wooden sword pressed against his throat.
The fight was over.
Silence stretched between them, only the sound of Lucius' ragged breathing filling the night.
Adrian stared down at him, his gaze unreadable.
Then, he sighed and stepped back.
Lucius clenched his fists against the dirt. His body ached, his pride burned.
But more than that—he felt the gap.
No matter how much he trained, how much he pushed himself, Adrian was stronger.
Was this what true power looked like?
Was this what he had been missing all along?
Adrian sat on a nearby training post, his wooden sword balanced across his lap. His expression was unreadable.
Lucius remained on the ground, exhaustion sinking into his bones.
Neither of them spoke for a long time.
Then, Adrian broke the silence.
"You've improved."
Lucius scoffed, rubbing his sore wrist. "Didn't seem like it just now."
Adrian chuckled, but there was no mockery in his voice. "You kept up longer than I expected. That alone is something."
Lucius exhaled heavily, staring up at the dark sky. The stars blinked down at him, distant and unreachable.
A question gnawed at him.
Something he had never asked before.
Why?
Why was Adrian helping him? Why was he treating him differently from the others in the house?
He hesitated before speaking.
"Why are you doing this?" His voice was quiet, uncertain.
Adrian was silent for a moment.
Then, he sighed.
"Because I know something you don't," he murmured.
Lucius turned his head slightly, watching Adrian's face.
For the first time, his older brother wasn't smirking.
"You went into a coma when you were three."
Lucius frowned.
Adrian didn't look at him. His gaze was distant, lost in memories.
"You tried forming a magic circle before your body could handle it. Most noble children can do it—but you failed."
Lucius' breath hitched.
"Mana Burst."
The words were unfamiliar, but the weight behind them was clear.
"We thought you would never wake up."
Lucius' fingers twitched.
A coma. A failed attempt at controlling mana.
He had almost died trying to do something that was expected of him.
His entire life, he had thought he was just born weak, just a disappointment to the family.
But this—this changed everything.
A question slipped past his lips before he could stop it.
"Then why are you helping me ?"
Adrian finally turned to look at him.
And for the first time, Lucius saw something in his brother's eyes.
A quiet sadness.
"Because this house is cruel."
Lucius swallowed.
Adrian leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. His voice was softer now, stripped of its usual sharpness.
"You're not the only one who suffered, Lucius."
"I grew up in this house too. I know how it feels to be pushed aside, to be treated like you don't belong."
His fingers curled slightly.
"I never got the love I wanted, the affection I needed. No one ever gave it to me."
He exhaled sharply and met Lucius' gaze.
"So I decided—I'd be the one to give it to you instead."
Lucius' breath caught in his throat.
The weight of those words sank in.
Adrian had never needed to help him.
He had never needed to train him.
And yet—he had been there, silently watching, guiding him without expectation.
Because he understood.
Because he didn't want Lucius to suffer the same way he had.
Lucius sat up slowly, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten.
"You said you never got love… what about our sisters?"
Adrian's expression softened.
"Only they loved me."
Lucius blinked in surprise.
"Selena—our older sister. She's the reason I'm still standing today."
There was something raw in Adrian's voice now, something deeply buried but never forgotten.
"This house tried to break me too, you know." He looked away. "There was a time I wanted to quit. I wanted to give up—because no matter how much I tried, I failed. Again and again."
His fingers curled tighter around his sword.
"But I kept going."
Lucius felt his chest tighten.
Adrian had failed?
His strong, unshakable brother had failed before?
"I may not be the strongest in this family," Adrian continued. "But I am part of it."
"And if I have to fight to survive, I will."
Lucius swallowed hard.
Adrian had suffered. He had struggled. He had nearly broken.
And yet—he had never stopped moving forward.
Lucius clenched his fists.
"So get stronger, Lucius."
Adrian's voice was calm but firm.
"So that this house can never break you."
Lucius closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply.
Then, he nodded.
Adrian smirked again, though it was softer this time.
"Good."
Lucius exhaled, his body still aching from the fight.
But his heart—
For the first time in a long time—
It didn't feel so heavy.
Because for the first time—he wasn't alone.