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Kapitel 11: Family

Sometimes, things in our lives do not go the way we want. We try our best and do everything we can. We put all our effort, our hopes, our desires, and everything into the thing that we desire.

We would hope that we become successful after doing everything that we can do for it. Of course, not everyone can put in the same effort, and some other people do more, but would it be wrong to want something and desire to have it?

It is not wrong, is it?

But, then, sometimes we fail. Even after putting in all the effort, we fail, hitting the wall. What would happen when this happens?

Feelings would overtake, wouldn't they?

Sadness, tiredness, anger, regret, disappointment…..All these feelings would overtake our minds.

Many of you might have experienced failure from an early age in your life. Not everyone can always be successful, after all.

Then, what is the thing that would keep you going even after you have faced countless failures? What could give you the motivation to move forward?

I am pretty sure there would be many people who would give this question a similar answer.

Family.

When we fail at life when we feel like we can not move forward….

At those times, our family could be the reason why we would be able to move once again, standing up.

It could be for seeing the smile on one's father's face, being able to make their mother experience the life that she could have never had, being able to follow the footprints of your elder siblings, being a good example to your younger ones…..

At least that was the case for me, though I don't know if the same applies to you.

For me, my family had been the reason I was able to push myself forward even while I faced failures over and over again.

When I failed to construct the first line of Thorne's spear, my father's disappointed but patient eyes pushed me to try harder.

When I failed to grasp our family's fire arts, my brother Alistair spent extra hours with me, showing me the techniques again and again.

When I failed to make the correct judgments to the questions my father asked, my mother's gentle encouragement kept me from giving up.

When I failed to reach the strength that my brother and predecessors had at the same age, the memory of my family's unwavering belief in me drove me to keep training, keep striving, and keep hoping.

Family was everything to me. It was the reason I could endure, the reason I could rise after every fall.

And that is why, right at this moment, I can't breathe. The heart that would beat on the left side of my chest feels clumped.

The world looks blurry.

I can't think straight at all.

I can't look into anyone at all.

Is it because I feel ashamed?

It is not.

Because I know that once I take a look at them, I will see those expressions again.

My father's cold words, my mother's disappointment, and my brother's anger—they crushed me in ways no failure ever had.

I had always believed that no matter what, my family would be my pillar, my unwavering support.

How could I know that even having hope would hurt this much?

At this very moment, how could I know that the disappointment would make me unable to breathe?

If not even my family would not believe my words, how can I expect anyone else to do so?

If, in this world, the people who became the reason that I pushed myself to move forward look at me like that, how can I speak?

How can I do anything other than accept this?

The anguish is overwhelming. My eyes blur with tears, and the knot in my heart tightens painfully. Just because of some words from another person, they would discard their own son, without even listening?

I asked myself if that would be the case if the same thing happened to my elder brother Alistair. Would they give him the same treatment?

What about my elder sister?

Would she get the same treatment?

Or was it because it was me?

The questions swirl in my mind, each one a dagger twisting deeper into my soul. The unfairness, the pain of being cast aside by those I loved most, it all crashes over me in waves of despair.

I think of Alistair, my brother, the one who excelled in everything. Would they cast him aside so easily? Would they doubt his every word, his every action?

No. They would listen. They would believe him.

And my sister, Miranda, with her grace and intelligence. Would they condemn her without a second thought?

No. They would stand by her. They would defend her.

But me? I am the one they doubt. I am the one they discard.

The realization is a bitter pill to swallow. It leaves a hollow ache in my chest, a pain that words cannot describe.

Why? Why is it different for me?

The question echoes in the silence of my mind, unanswered and unanswerable. The unfairness of it all crushes me, leaving me gasping for breath, struggling to hold on to any semblance of hope or strength.

I feel the weight of my family's judgment, the coldness of their eyes, and the finality of their decision pressing down on me. And at that moment, I realized that I was truly alone.

For the first time, I see the world for what it is—unforgiving, merciless, and painfully unfair.

Tears spill down my cheeks, hot and unchecked, as I face the harsh reality of my situation. I am alone, abandoned by those I loved most, cast aside without a second thought.

The pain is unbearable...

It is so much that I can't keep this any longer.

I want to forget everything.

At least for a second, at least for a while, I don't want to think of anything.

The pain is unbearable, but even in the depths of my despair, a small voice within me whispers, urging me to hold on, to find a way to survive.

I clutch the bracelet on my wrist, the one that appeared mysteriously. I don't know what it does or who it came from, but it becomes my lifeline, a small glimmer of hope in the darkness.

'Please.'

Can I survive this ordeal, not just physically but emotionally and mentally?

"Take him away," my father's voice echoed in my ears, and I felt the firm grip of the guards on my arms, pulling me away from the grand hall.

I walked with heavy steps, my mind a whirl of memories and emotions. The faces of my family, once my source of strength, now felt like ghosts haunting my every step.

"First light," the guard muttered as we passed through the mansion's corridors, and I knew that tomorrow would bring a new and terrifying reality.

As we reach the same confinement room, the door gets closed once again.

"Haaaah...Haaaah..."

Finally, as we are in the darkness, I can let everything go.

I can let the fire inside me go.

I can no longer hold it in.

CRACK! 

The pain spreads through my hand as my fist hits the wall.

"Why?"

The same question once again.

"Why did it have to be me?"

The pain is unbearable, not the one in my hand, but the one in my heart.

Yet, still, even in the depths of my despair, a small voice within me whispers, urging me to hold on, to find a way to survive.

"At least I will believe in you."

I clutch the bracelet on my wrist, the one that appeared mysteriously. I don't know what it does or who it came from, but it becomes my lifeline, a small glimmer of hope in the darkness.

Yeah…..

I may be alone, but I will not give up.

I can still move forward.

For whoever left me this small token of comfort, for myself, and for the small, stubborn spark of hope that refuses to be extinguished, I will endure. I will survive.

And one day…..I will prove…..

Prove my innocence to the world.

So that everyone who had never believed in me….

So that those who discarded me like this can understand their mistake.

'Yeah….that is right….Don't give up, Lucavion….It is not over yet….'

But right now, I can rest a little, right?

I hope so.

Because I can not keep my consciousness any longer.

-----------------------

You can check my discord if you want. The link is in the description.

I am open to any criticism; you can comment on things that you would like to see in the story. 


Kapitel 12: Departing

The hours passed slowly, each one marked by the faint sounds of the mansion settling in the night. My thoughts were a whirlwind of memories and fears, and the ache in my hand from striking the wall served as a constant reminder of my anguish.

Finally, the silence was broken by the sound of footsteps approaching the door. The heavy clank of the lock being turned echoed through the room, and the door creaked open.

A guard stepped inside, his expression stern and cold.

"Time to go," he said curtly, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me to my feet.

I stumbled out of the cell, the sudden movement causing my head to spin. The guard's grip was firm as he led me through the dimly lit corridors of the mansion.

We passed through the main hall, where the weight of my family's judgment still lingered, before stepping out into the cold night air.

A carriage awaited us, its dark, wooden frame illuminated by the flickering light of a nearby lantern.

"Enter."

From the side, the voice of a knight echoed. I didn't even feel the need to look at him or confirm. I just complied and followed what he was saying.

–GROWL!

My stomach growled, most likely because of the fact that it was kept empty for a while. But it was not like there was something I could do about it.

–CREAK!

In one week, I had been moved countless different times from the Duke's mansion to my own family's and now to another place.

Just as I entered the carriage, my eyes captured something.

There, slightly hidden behind the trees, was a young girl. The torch of the people around me revealed her face, and I recognized her immediately.

Eliza.

Her presence took me by surprise. I remembered her as the somehow clumsy but cute maid, always trying her best despite her occasional mishaps. But why was she here?

As our eyes met, Eliza flinched and then turned away, disappearing into the shadows.

Not that it mattered, as the knight grabbed me from my arms and then pushed me into the carriage.

THUD!

The door closed with a heavy thud, sealing me inside.

The carriage jerked forward, and I was plunged into darkness, the only light coming from the flickering torch outside. The rhythmic clatter of the wheels on the cobblestone road filled the silence, a constant reminder of the journey ahead.

I tried to steady my breathing, to calm the tumultuous storm of emotions raging within me.

The brief glimpse of Eliza's face lingered in my mind, her presence an unexpected yet fleeting moment of familiarity in this sea of uncertainty.

'Why did she come here? To see the young lord that she once served becoming something that is lesser than her? How ironic?'

Somehow, it felt like she was mocking me, but then, as I remembered her expression, I realized I was just being dumb.

That girl's expression had far too much sadness for her to be mocking me after all.

Just like that, the hours passed slowly, the journey marked by the occasional bump and jolt as the carriage navigated the uneven terrain.

The cold seeped through the wooden walls, chilling me to the bone. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to preserve what little warmth I could.

Days went by, and the journey was pretty similar compared to the one I did from Dukedom to our mansion.

Eventually, the carriage came to a halt.

The door was flung open, and a guard's harsh voice broke the silence. "Out, now."

I stepped down, my legs stiff and unsteady from the long ride. We were in a large, open courtyard surrounded by high walls and guarded gates.

Torches lined the perimeter, casting eerie shadows on the stone buildings. I was herded toward a group of other prisoners, all huddled together in the cold night air.

The guards pushed us into a dimly lit building. Inside, rows of wooden benches filled the room, and we were instructed to sit. I took a seat near the back, my eyes scanning the faces of those around me.

They were a mix of men and women, young and old, their expressions a blend of fear, anger, and resignation.

A door at the front of the room opened, and a tall, broad-shouldered man strode in.

His uniform was pristine, and a scar ran down one side of his face, giving him a menacing appearance. He stood before us, his eyes cold and hard as they swept over the room.

CLENCH!

And as his gaze passed people, they started clenching their teeth and hands. As he locked with mine, I understood the reason.

A feeling of insects crawling down on your skin, the feeling of your life on the line, the feeling of your heart crushed, the feeling of not being able to breathe…

All of them happened at the same time, this time physically. My body reacted on its own, trying to cope with the pain and the pressure.

It somehow made me remember the duke and what happened at that time. Of course, what was happening right now could not come closer to that at all, as this pressure was a lot more bearable than at that time.

'Right…..They call this Romance-fantasy for a reason…..'

At that time, my memory was hazy, and I was not able to understand what was happening before me, but now I could.

'This is killing intent.'

The duke was releasing his killing intent at that time. I had partially experienced it beforehand from my father, but none of them were to this extent.

After pressuring us for a while, the man retrieved his pressure back.

–THUD!

Many people fell down after the pressure was relieved.

"HAaaaaah....haaaaah….."

They were breathing heavily, me included. Even if I was able to keep myself standing, not being able to breathe still affected me.

"I am Captain Stroud," he announced, his voice rough and commanding. "I am the military supervisor overseeing you lot. You've all been sentenced to serve on the front lines, and let me make one thing clear: you are here because you are expendable."

The room was filled with the sound of labored breathing as Captain Stroud surveyed us with a look of disdain. He had established his dominance, and the fear was palpable among the prisoners.

"You are criminals," Captain Stroud continued, his tone filled with contempt. "You have disgraced yourselves and your families, and now you will atone for your crimes with your lives. Do not expect sympathy or leniency. You will be treated as the lowest of the low, and your only chance of redemption is to fight and die for the Empire."

He began to pace again, his heavy boots echoing in the silent room. "You will be given basic training, but do not mistake this for an opportunity to prove yourselves. You are fodder, nothing more. Your lives are worth less than the weapons you will carry."

The murmur of fear and anger that rippled through the room was quickly silenced by Captain Stroud's sharp glare. "Discipline will be maintained at all times. Any attempt to escape or disobey orders will be met with immediate execution. Do I make myself clear?"

A chorus of reluctant affirmations followed, and Captain Stroud nodded in satisfaction. "Good. You will begin your training at first light. Until then, you will be confined to your quarters. Remember, your lives are forfeit, and your only hope is to serve the Empire with what little dignity you have left."

With that, he turned and strode off the platform, leaving us to ponder the grim fate that awaited us.

Just as I felt like the world had stopped, suddenly he turned back.

"Ah...I forgot…..Who is Lucavion Thorne?" He said, but then smirked suddenly. "My bad, only Lucavion would be enough. Criminal Lucavion, step forward."

A murmur rippled through the group of prisoners as they exchanged glances and whispered amongst themselves. In the Empire of Loria, only nobles had surnames, and the use of "Thorne" indicated that I had once belonged to a noble family. The realization sparked a mix of curiosity and hostility among the others.

Feeling a knot form in my stomach, I stood up. "I am Lucavion," I said, my voice steady despite the anxiety gnawing at me.

Captain Stroud's smirk widened as he met my gaze. "Follow me. We need to talk."

The room fell silent, and I felt the weight of countless eyes on me. Hostility and resentment radiated from the other prisoners. To them, I was a fallen noble, most likely.

A symbol of the privileges they had likely never known. But I couldn't afford to care about their opinions now. My focus was on surviving, and for that, I had to follow Stroud.

I stepped forward, feeling the tension in the room rise as I walked past the others. Their glares burned into my back, but I kept my head high and my gaze forward. I could sense their hatred and suspicion, but I forced myself to remain composed.

Stroud led me out of the main hall and into a dimly lit corridor. We walked in silence, the sound of our footsteps echoing off the stone walls. Eventually, we arrived at a small, sparsely furnished room. Stroud motioned for me to sit on a wooden chair while he took a seat behind a plain desk.

He leaned back, his cold eyes studying me with a mixture of amusement and disdain. "So, Lucavion Thorne," he began, emphasizing my surname with a sneer. "Viscount instructed me to take good care of you."

–SWOOSH!

And then, suddenly, he moved, his fist reaching down to my stomach.


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