01

The sound of raindrops crashing against the cold, cemented roads of the Emerald Empire echoed loudly in the child's ears as he sat alone in the carriage, sheltered within the towering walls of the Soru'draigg manor. The child had no name, no identity to call his own. Slowly, he pulled himself up from the carriage seat and gazed out the window, staring at the figures standing just outside the place he once called home.

An old man stood at the center of the group, his eyes cold and indifferent as they met the child's curious gaze. The two others beside him mirrored his expression, though the woman on the far right bit her lip, refusing to meet the child's eyes. The child raised his tiny hand, instinctively wanting to comfort the woman who was his mother, but he knew better. He remained where he was, his hand falling limply to his side.

As the carriage began to move, the gates of the manor slowly fading into the distance, he could only wonder why things had turned out this way. His earliest memories were of happiness—his mother's warm smile when she first held him, his father's proud grin. But those memories were hazy now, overshadowed by the amazement he had felt when he first saw the young girl cradled in his father's arms—his twin sister.

But the happy memories didn't last long. At the age of one, he was separated from his parents and his sister. The leisurely life of a child was replaced with the intense and grueling training of the Soru'draigg family. He was taught how to read, write, and speak runes by the time he was two. Then came chess, music, and various other disciplines. The years dragged by, each one marked by a new lesson, until last year when he was tasked with learning magic for the first time.

Despite all his efforts, he couldn't cast a single spell. At first, he hadn't given it much thought, feeling a sense of relief that he might be given a year to spend leisurely before his next lessons. But now, sitting alone in the cold carriage, the truth became painfully clear: it was his failure that had led to this. He was being sent away because he was useless—a failure in the eyes of the only family he had ever known.

Frustration and sadness overwhelmed him, tears flowing down his cheeks as he blamed himself for being disowned. He continued to cry throughout the entire journey, the rain never relenting, as if it too mourned his fate.

As the carriage rumbled to a stop, the child's tears finally dried, much like the rain that had ceased only moments before. Dark-grey clouds still loomed over the horizon, casting a somber shadow on the child's face as the carriage doors opened for him.

When he stepped out, he immediately noticed that his new home was considerably smaller than his previous one. There were no intricate designs carved on the manor's walls, nor were there lavish green hedges decorating the front garden. The manor stood at the center of a forest, the air thick with the scent of pine and damp soil. Even though it was only a short distance from the capital, it felt worlds away from the bustling life he had once known.

"Oh? What do we have here?" A gentle voice broke the silence as a young woman walked down the mossy cobblestone path leading from the manor's doors and crouched in front of the boy. "Are you lost, young one?"

"H-Hello, I'm... supposed to live here... I think." The boy replied in a quiet tone, not making eye contact with the woman, whose eyes widened in shock and horror before she wrapped her arms around him.

"Oh, you poor thing, we didn't know you were coming today. I swear, that old man doesn't care for proper procedures." The woman huffed angrily while fussing over the boy, who had been left alone for an entire day. "What is he thinking? Sending an eight-year-old boy without an adult to keep him company?"

The boy stood frozen in his spot, unsure of how to react as the woman continued to embrace him. The warmth was unfamiliar to him, yet it felt strangely comforting. He was also confused about why the woman was reacting that way, thinking there was nothing wrong with going alone—after all, it had always been that way.

"What's going on here, Cynthia? It's the middle of the night!" A gruff voice came from behind them, causing the boy to flinch and hurriedly pull away from the woman's grasp. His eyes landed on a middle-aged man who sauntered toward them, his gait slow but purposeful.

"Alcor, can you believe that old man!?" Cynthia puffed her cheeks in anger as she faced the man, who flinched subtly under her gaze. "Not only did he not tell us he was sending the kid today, but he didn't even send anyone to accompany him!"

"Well, the old man probably doesn't care if the kid gets killed or not. He did send him here, you know." Alcor grumbled in contempt as he glanced at the boy before turning back to his wife, only to grunt in pain as she delivered a well-aimed strike to his stomach.

"Don't say that in front of the kid, you idiot. I swear you're just as bad as that old man." Cynthia huffed and crouched in front of the boy again, a gentle smile on her face as she held his hands. "I'm Auntie Cynthia, and that idiotic man over there is your Uncle Alcor. I know things might be a bit confusing right now, and it might be hard for you at first, but we're your family now." She whispered and patted the boy's head.

The boy didn't utter a single word, only staring at the couple in confusion. The warmth he felt from Cynthia's words and the comfort of her touch pained him for reasons he couldn't understand. He was at a loss, unsure of what to do. He had been abandoned, thrown away. His old family didn't care for him anymore, just as his uncle had said.

"I... don't like rain." The boy whispered, assuming it was starting to rain again, not realizing that tears were flowing down his cheeks as he began to cry in his new family's embrace.