the struggle of the unwanted

Raze's life kept moving forward, year after year. His long black hair grew quickly, often forcing Nyx to cut it for him. He never minded, though. It was one of the few moments where he felt close to his mother—when her gentle hands combed through his hair, trimming away the strands that had grown too long.

But aside from that, life had been a constant battle.

"I can't do anything for him," Nyx muttered under her breath one evening, her expression troubled. "There are treasures that can boost mana, but even those are expensive… and temporary. Given our situation…"

Her voice trailed off as she gazed at Raze, who sat near the dimly lit fireplace, sharpening a wooden stick as if it were a sword.

She knew.

She knew that, deep down, no matter how much Raze admired the mages, he could never be one of them.

At the age of eight, he had already stopped spending time with his teacher. Instead, he chose to follow the guards stationed in their small village, running errands and doing chores in exchange for combat tips. If he couldn't use magic, then he would strengthen his body. That was the only option left to him.

On the other hand, Keal's progress was the complete opposite.

Keal was a natural. He had become quite popular in their village, impressing the elders and children alike with his elemental abilities. A spark of fire, a gust of wind, a few drops of water—small tricks, but enough to confirm his talent.

At ten years old, Keal was already being praised as someone who would become an important figure in the future.

And Raze?

Nothing.

He trained his body relentlessly, hoping that through sheer effort, magic would flow into him. He copied Keal's movements, mimicked the way he shaped his fingers, controlled his breath—anything that might help him trigger even the tiniest spark of magic.

But there was nothing.

No warmth of fire. No cool sensation of water. No whisper of the wind.

Nothing.

His fists clenched as he watched Keal easily summon a floating water droplet, the blue liquid reflecting the evening light.

Why?

Why, gods?! Why bring me into this world just to suffer? Why show me all of this, when I can't have any of it?!

It wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair that he, with all his knowledge, all his past life's memories, all his desperation—was being left behind.

Keal never rubbed it in his face, at least. He was too kind for that. But even that kindness made it worse. If Keal had been cruel, maybe Raze could have hated him. Maybe that hatred would've fueled him, pushed him forward.

Instead, all he could do was swallow his anger and keep training.

But deep down, he was afraid.

No matter how much he strengthened his body, muscles could never defeat magic.

That thought haunted him every night.

The Question That Should Not Be Asked

It was another quiet evening. After dinner, the three of them—Nyx, Keal, and Raze—sat together, the warmth of the fire crackling softly in the background.

Nyx turned to them, smiling gently. "How was the food?"

"Delicious as always," they both replied in unison.

Raze wasn't in the mood to talk much. His body was sore from training, his hands rough from gripping wooden weapons all day. He glanced at Keal, who seemed to be deep in thought.

Then, Keal finally spoke.

"…Mother."

Nyx blinked, looking at him. "Yes?"

Keal hesitated for a moment, then gathered his courage.

"Who was our father?" he asked. "Why does everyone ignore us whenever we ask about him?"

The room fell silent.

Nyx's expression changed.

She didn't look surprised—she had been expecting this question. But even so, she seemed… unwilling.

A few moments passed before she looked up at the ceiling, her fingers tightening slightly.

"He was a good man," she said, her voice quiet. "He cared about his family, more than anything else. That's all you need to know."

That's all?

Raze's eyes narrowed. "But—"

"It's not important," Nyx interrupted sharply, her voice firm. "Do you hear me? I don't want you asking this to anyone else."

Something in her tone made it clear—this wasn't just about keeping a secret. There was something more.

Something deeper.

Keal lowered his head, disappointed.

Raze, however, wasn't satisfied.

He didn't understand why, but a strange feeling told him that their father's identity mattered.