Chapter 23: The Sister. Part two.
"Argh!"
"Father! Please stop hurting my brother!"
Since when had Father turned into this monster? Every day brought a new torment, a fresh wave of pain that crashed over me relentlessly. I lay on the ground, helpless and exposed, while the entire household bore witness to Father's cruelty. Ever since Mother's passing, he had changed, his once gentle demeanor replaced by anger and madness.
"That brother of yours can't even lift a sword properly! How could you call him a shield? Huh?!" His words cut through me like a blade, each syllable dripping with venomous disdain.
"Father, you can't do this to my brother! Even if he can't wield a sword, he's intelligent! Can't you spare him?! Please!"
This wasn't the father I once knew. This was a stranger wearing his skin.
Every time I angered him, Father would lock me away in my room. He'd shove books of martial arts and combat strategies under my door, insisting that I improve myself. They wouldn't give me any food, only water, claiming it was punishment for my weakness.
As the supposed shield of our family, I was meant to be reliable and capable, a stalwart defender of the kingdom. But deep down, I knew I fell short. Our family's weak Alice magic made me a target for criticism, except from my sister.
A knock at my door interrupted my thoughts.
Fatigue weighed heavily on me; I could barely muster the strength to lift myself from my bed.
"Hurry, while Father's occupied," a voice urged from outside.
With a click, the door swung open, revealing Yona.
"..." I could only manage a weak sigh.
"Hurry, help him sit."
"Yes, my lady."
With the help of a maid, Yona assisted me to sit up, placing a small table by the bed.
"Here, eat while Father's away."
"Yona..."
I lifted my head slightly, exhaustion evident in every breath.
"Eat, brother. You mustn't be weak," she insisted, scooping a spoonful of soup.
But as the soup reached my mouth, I began to retch.
"Brother!"
"Oh no, my lady. The young master is too ill to eat. We must take him to the hospital."
"H-hospital? But Father won't allow it..."
I couldn't respond, even if I wanted to. I was too weak.
Somehow, I found myself in the hospital.
But even here, I was alone. Where was my sister? Every day, I waited for her to visit, but the days stretched on with no sign of her.
When I returned home, I found a stranger waiting for me—a woman whose appearance exuded an air of elegance and refinement. Her features were delicate, with high cheekbones and piercing eyes that seemed to hide secrets behind their depths. Cascading waves of glossy hair framed her face, casting her in a soft halo of light, while her lips curved into a practiced smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
She carried herself with poise and grace, her movements measured and deliberate, as if every step had been carefully choreographed. Adorned in impeccable attire with subtle touches of luxury, she appeared every bit the lady of the household.
Yet, despite her outward beauty, there was an aura of coldness about her—a distance that kept others at arm's length. It was as if she were a porcelain doll, lovely to look at but devoid of warmth or emotion.
"Welcome back," she greeted me with a saccharine smile, her voice laced with a hint of insincerity.
"Who are you?" I asked, unable to hide the uncertainty in my voice.
"Lucian!" Father's stern voice cut through the air. "She's your new mother. Show some respect."
Mother? Her?
"I... I'm sorry, Mother," I mumbled, bowing my head in deference.
"It's fine. You must be tired. Go to your room. I'll have the maids bring you dinner."
Her strange presence lingered in my mind, leaving me with a sense of unease and curiosity. Despite her picture-perfect appearance, there was something about her that felt... off.
Her words felt hollow, devoid of any warmth or affection. But I obeyed, retreating to my room as instructed. Later that evening, as the household slept, a figure slipped into my room.
"Lucian? Are you awake?"
I heard the voice, female's voice...
"Good, listen to me."
Her words, they seemed to ensnare my mind, like she was using Alice.
"You'll be my slave. You'll obey me without question."
"..." I couldn't resist. I couldn't fight back.
My body trembled as I nodded, ready to submit to her will.
***
"Hey, did you notice the young master's improvement? H... he was scary!"
Rumors began to spread like wildfire, echoing through the corridors of the Wills household.
I stood before the man who dared call himself a soldier of our household.
"Please, y-young master! Y-you'll kill me if you don't stop—" The soldier's pleas fell on deaf ears. I couldn't stop, not until he lay defeated at my feet, his pride shattered in the sand. It was what my mother had taught me—to show no mercy, to be ruthless in battle, no matter the circumstances.
The soldier stumbled, tripping over his own feet as he tried to evade my relentless onslaught. With a determined gaze, I prepared to deliver the final blow.
"Ekkk—" He covered his head with his arms, a futile attempt to shield himself from my wrath.
"Brother!"
That voice halted me in my tracks. I turned to see her—Yona.
"That's... Yona...?"
She rushed towards me, enveloping me in a tight embrace. But despite her warmth, I felt nothing. My heart had turned cold, consumed by the single-minded pursuit of my mother's approval.
"I was worried about you. I heard you're excelling in combat, but look at these men. They've already suffered enough," she pleaded.
I averted my gaze. "If you're just here to distract me, leave. I'm not finished with my training yet."
Her shocked expression pierced through me, but I remained indifferent. Why couldn't I feel anything at all?
And that's when our relationship began to fracture.
Yona stopped visiting, disappearing from the household without a trace. But I had more pressing matters to attend to. My sole focus was on making Mother proud.
Kneeling before her, I awaited her judgment.
"You've become a fine servant," she praised, sipping wine by the window. "Now it's time to kill your father."
My blood ran cold at her words. How could I take the life of my own father? The conflict raged within me.
"I see you're hesitating. You're not like that, Lucian," she whispered, her voice like a serpent's hiss. "You'll do it for Mother, won't you?"
My hands trembled as I reluctantly nodded. "Yes, Mother."
***
The next thing I knew, I was holding a bloodied sword, standing over a lifeless body in the pouring rain.
"Brother... why??" Yona's voice trembled with anguish as she knelt beside the fallen figure, her tear-streaked face turning toward me. But I couldn't comprehend her pain. I felt nothing.
"Yona..."
Then reality crashed down upon me, and I dropped the sword in horror. "No! I... didn't..." My hands were stained with blood, trembling as soldiers dragged me away from the scene.
"Yona! It wasn't me! Please believe me! Yona!!!"
I was thrown into a dark cell, where they tortured me relentlessly. They didn't want to kill me—they wanted me to suffer. But for what? What had I done to deserve this?
End of flashback.
"Lucian! Are you alright?"
I blinked, finding Lykon kneeling before me, her gentle touch soothing against my cheek as the chains fell away.
"Ly... Lykon?" I whispered, barely recognizing her.
"I'm sorry I'm late," she said with a reassuring smile, sweeping me up into her arms.
"Ack! Lykon?!" I blushed furiously, embarrassed by my own weakness.
"I'll take care of you. Don't worry," she promised, her caring presence a beacon of hope in my darkest hour.
Lykon was a lifeline in a sea of despair. I was grateful to have her by my side.
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Virtuosa
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