Chapter 7: A Family Unraveled

As the carriage rocked gently on the road, Leon gazed out of the window, his eyes tracing the passing landscape. The trees blurred by the speeding wheels, the wind rustling through the branches—it all felt so distant now.

It had been a long five years at the training estate, and as the landscape faded behind him, so too did his days of intense training, rigorous lessons, and sweat-filled sparring sessions with Maddox.

He closed his eyes, allowing his thoughts to drift back to those years. His body had undergone tremendous changes.

He was no longer the scrawny three-year-old boy who had stepped onto the estate with nothing but curiosity. Now, at seven years old, Leon felt the weight of his training and experience in every movement, every breath.

He closed his eyes and focused on the pendant. He could feel it humming in his mind, its energy subtly pulsing against his consciousness.

The familiar sensation of the letters—his status—emerged from the depths of his mind, letters flickering like soft flames. He gave in to the familiar sight, letting the letters spill into the air before his eyes.

Name: Leon Graves/NightshadeAge: 7

Talent: OtherworldlyBloodline: Omniara (All-encompassing)

Power: Initiate (Early Expert)

Health: 550/550 (+515)Strength: 130 (+118)Dexterity: 120 (+110)Mana: 400 (+350)Constitution: 180 (+170)Intelligence: 53 (+35)Wisdom: 40 (+26)Will: 35 (+15)Charm: 60 (+35)

Skills:Shade of Erebos (Nightshade Bloodline): Allows the user to hide their true abilities. "Patience is a blade that cuts sharper with time."

Leon smiled to himself as he stared at the numbers that represented his growth. From the terrified child who didn't know how to guide his own mana, to the strong, capable young expert he was today—it was surreal.

He had reached the Expert stage just a month ago, his mana circulating through his core with a practiced ease. It had taken years of constant refinement to reach this stage, and though he had made considerable progress, he knew he still had a long way to go.

He had surpassed most in terms of raw power for his age, but reaching the end of the Expert stage wasn't something that could be rushed. To refine his core further, he would need to circulate mana into it over a hundred times—slow, methodical, deliberate work.

His core, dense as it was, would take a considerable amount of time to perfect. Leon knew this, but he didn't mind. He was prepared for the long haul.

Though he was proud of his progress, he also knew that there were many things he couldn't show. His bloodline, his potential, the power he had cultivated—they were too dangerous to reveal just yet. It was why he had been hiding a third of his strength at all times.

He called upon the Shade of Erebos to conceal his true power, showing only what he wanted the world to see: an Initiate, no more. It was his trump card, hidden away for a time when it was truly needed.

Leon's charm had also increased significantly over the years, a consequence of his enhanced physical appearance and growing confidence. He had taken to his new body with ease—his once-scrawny frame now lean and toned, a reflection of the intense physical training he had undergone under Maddox's watchful eye.

Even he couldn't deny the fact that he was becoming a handsome young boy, and sometimes, when he caught a glimpse of himself, he would remember his mother's words from his past life.

"You're going to break hearts, my son," she had said with a gentle smile. And now, in this new life, he could already see the beginnings of that prophecy taking shape.

But despite his newfound appearance and confidence, Leon knew that he had a long road ahead. His power was still far from the potential he could one day reach.

Every step he took now was one of preparation, every lesson, every training session, a piece of the foundation he was building to take control of his future.

With a deep breath, he let the letters fade away, pushing them to the back of his mind. He needed to focus. There was still much to learn, and his journey had only just begun.

As the carriage continued its journey, the familiar feeling of anticipation settled in his chest. Whatever came next, he was ready for it.

The wheels of the carriage turned steadily over the familiar cobblestone road, and Leon felt a strange sense of nostalgia settle in as the grand estate's massive gates slowly approached. This was his home, the place where his journey had begun, and yet, it felt different now. It had been five long years since he last set foot in the main estate, and the weight of those years seemed to press against him like an unseen force.

As the carriage neared the gates, Leon's eyes scanned the surroundings, taking in the landscape that had once been so familiar to him. His gaze fell on a figure walking along the edge of the road, someone who moved aside as the carriage drew closer, allowing it to pass. Leon's heart skipped a beat when he recognized who it was.

It was Lucian.

The figure walking alone, dressed in tattered black clothes, was covered in dirt and grime, his face marked with exhaustion and sorrow.

He looked every bit the image of someone who had been through far too much, his eyes downcast and his demeanor withdrawn. As the carriage passed, Leon caught a fleeting glimpse of his older brother's face.

Lucian quickly glanced in his direction before turning away, his lip trembling slightly, a silent act of suppression.

Leon's mind raced. Why did Lucian look like this? What had happened to him over the years? More pressing was the question of why the family had insisted that he stay away from him. Leon couldn't help but wonder what lay beneath his brother's apparent sorrow.

The carriage continued on its path, the sounds of the wheels grinding on the cobblestones masking the stirrings of concern in Leon's heart. But soon enough, the main gate came into view.

The guards greeted him with respectful bows and opened the massive gates, allowing the carriage to enter the estate's courtyard. The familiar sight of the estate brought a wave of mixed emotions. He had longed for this day, yet something felt off, a strange gnawing sensation deep in his gut that he couldn't quite shake.

As he alighted from the carriage, Eira, his ever-faithful maid, was there to assist him. The other maids quickly scurried to help him with his bags, but it was clear that Eira was the one who knew him best.

Leon allowed himself a moment to appreciate the little comforts, even though his mind remained preoccupied with the image of Lucian.

At the front steps of the main door stood his mother, her gaze soft with care and love, a warmth that seemed to have grown over the years. She had changed since he last saw her—more at ease, more affectionate.

The bond between them had strengthened, and Leon felt a surge of pride when she embraced him, telling him how proud she was of his progress.

Yet, despite her love and the comfort of being home, Leon couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right.

His instincts, honed through years of training, told him that something was off, but he couldn't put his finger on it. There was a sense of unease in the air, but he chose to brush it aside for now.

With Eira's help, Leon made his way to his room, dropping his bags in the process. The other maids eyed him with a mix of surprise and jealousy as he helped Eira with the luggage. He had changed so much—both in appearance and in demeanor.

Gone was the timid child who had arrived at the estate years ago. In his place stood a confident young boy, a future destined for greatness.

The scent of freshly prepared food wafted through the air as Leon made his way down to the dining room, where his family had gathered for the evening meal. He hesitated for a moment at the door, taking in the sight of his siblings.

Caelan, Darian, Lysandra, and Thorne were all grown adults now, their presence commanding and mature, their faces carved with the experiences of life.

They looked at him with a mixture of pride and curiosity, as if they too had been waiting for this moment.

Lucian, too, had changed. He was older, no longer the timid boy Leon remembered, but still… there was something unsettling about him. His eyes, dark and hollow, held the same sadness Leon had seen before.

But there was something else—an unspoken tension in the air between them that neither brother could ignore. Lucian didn't look at him directly, keeping his gaze averted, his lip biting down hard, as though suppressing emotions he couldn't show.

Elira, now a young teen, sat with an air of controlled energy. Though her wild nature had calmed somewhat, Leon could still see the flicker of mischief in her eyes, a reminder that she hadn't completely shed her childhood persona.

Alden, always the bright light in the room, was still the same happy-go-lucky child. His smile was infectious, and his energy seemed to brighten the atmosphere. At ten, he had already begun his training, but Leon could see he had a long way to go before reaching the level of an expert. Nonetheless, he was no less a prodigy.

As Leon stepped into the dining room, all eyes turned to him. His siblings greeted him with enthusiastic cheers and congratulatory remarks. They seemed genuinely pleased to see him, especially when they heard of his progress in becoming an Initiate.

Alden, who had reached Initiate status just before heading to the testing grounds, eagerly shared his own progress, though it was clear that Leon's achievements surpassed his own.

Leon smiled, his chest swelling with pride. His family, despite the distance and differences, was here to celebrate his success. But even as the warmth of their greetings washed over him, his mind couldn't help but wander back to the image of Lucian, standing alone on the road, his face a mask of hidden pain.

Why was it that Lucian seemed to be carrying so much weight, and why had the family kept him at arm's length? What secrets lay hidden beneath his sad eyes?

For now, Leon pushed those thoughts aside. He joined his family at the table, his focus on the food and the jovial conversations around him. But deep inside, something told him that this homecoming would not be as simple as it seemed.

The grand dining room echoed with the clatter of silverware and the hum of conversation as the Nightshade family gathered around the long, polished table. Varek, the ever-commanding patriarch, motioned for everyone to begin eating, and with his signal, the family dug into their meal.

The air was filled with the sounds of friendly chatter, yet Leon couldn't shake the feeling that there was an undercurrent to their words, a tension that wasn't entirely welcome.

Caelan and Darian were engrossed in conversation about their recent missions as warriors of the Nightshade family. Their discussion was serious, full of details about their duties and the dangers they faced.

Both of them had grown into formidable figures in their own right, and their conversation reflected it. Leon listened intently, his respect for them growing with each word, but there was something in the way they spoke that made it clear they saw him as competition.

Lysandra and Thorne, now adults at 19, were engaged in their own lively discussion about their experiences at Zenith Academy—the prestigious institution that attracted the most talented warriors and mages from all over the world.

As students, they were considered to be near the top of their class, and from what Leon gathered, they had cultivated a reputation for themselves as skilled and powerful students. The Zenith Academy was known for molding future leaders, and it was clear that Lysandra and Thorne were on track to graduate as forces to be reckoned with.

Elira, now 13, had just finished her time in the testing grounds. She spoke with a confidence that only someone who had achieved the best results could exude. Once she turned 14, she would be joining her older siblings at the Zenith Academy.

Leon admired her tenacity and the drive she had shown, but there was still something about her that reminded him of the wild child she used to be. Her eyes sparkled with a challenge, especially as she conversed with Alden, her younger brother.

Alden, still the happy-go-lucky child at 10 years old, excitedly chattered about his own experiences in the testing grounds. He was closing to reaching the early expert status and was eager to share his progress.

It was clear that despite his youthful exuberance, he still had a long way to go before catching up to Leon. However, he was undoubtedly talented, and his optimism was a breath of fresh air compared to the more intense conversations of the older siblings.

As Leon listened to their stories, he was acutely aware that they were all curious about his own time in the training estate. They all took turns asking him about his teachers, his lessons, and his experience, and Leon did his best to share the highlights.

He spoke of his time spent training under Maddox, of the lessons in diplomacy and etiquette from Elara, and of his progress in becoming an Initiate. It felt good to be acknowledged, but there was something in their words and the way they spoke that seemed to mask an underlying animosity.

Though they congratulated him, there was a clear undercurrent of competition. It wasn't so much admiration as it was a veiled recognition of the threat he posed to their standing in the family.

Leon couldn't help but notice the cold glint in their eyes, especially when they spoke of his progress. To them, it seemed, he was a new player on the field, someone they would have to watch.

But what caught Leon's attention most was his mother. Unlike the rest of the family, who were happily engaged in their conversations and food, she remained silent. Her gaze didn't waver from the table, nor did she join in the meal.

Instead, she observed everyone around her with a quiet intensity that unsettled Leon. He had always known her to be nurturing and warm, but tonight she was different.

Her silence hung in the air like a heavy fog, making him wonder what she was thinking.

Occasionally, Leon would sneak glances at his mother, trying to decipher her emotions, but her face remained an unreadable mask. It was as though she were watching the family, studying them with an intensity that made him uneasy.

Leon's gut told him that something was off, but he couldn't pinpoint exactly what.

After a while, the conversation shifted, and Leon's thoughts turned back to Lucian. His brother, now 14 years old, was noticeably absent from the academy, and Leon couldn't help but wonder why. Lucian should have been there, just like everyone else, yet he remained in the estate.

His absence was peculiar, especially given that he was supposed to be attending the academy.

Leon's curiosity got the better of him. He knew he had to ask Lucian about it—soon. There was something deeply wrong with the situation, and he wasn't going to let it slide.

Why had his family hidden Lucian away? Why was he not attending the prestigious academy like the rest of them?

But for now, the meal continued, and Leon was caught between his family's warm smiles and the unsettling realization that there were secrets within the walls of his own home.

As the meal went on, the questions lingered in his mind, unanswered, like the shadows that danced just beyond the light.

Once dinner was finished, Leon's family rose from the table, each member retreating to their respective quarters. Leon, still feeling the weight of the unspoken words, glanced over at his mother one last time before excusing himself.

He needed time alone to process everything that had transpired. There were too many unanswered questions, too many subtle hints that something wasn't quite right in his home. But he would get to the bottom of it.

He would find the truth.

After the meal, Leon bade farewell to his family and excused himself, heading out to the courtyard for a walk. The cool evening air helped him clear his mind, but the unsettling events from dinner still weighed heavily on his thoughts.

As he strolled along the cobblestone path, his gaze wandered to the distant shadows, the trees swaying gently in the breeze. He couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right, that there was more lurking beneath the surface of his family's seemingly perfect facade.

The sound of footsteps behind him broke the silence, and Leon immediately tensed, his senses alert. He didn't have to turn around to know who it was. The presence was unmistakable. Darian, his second oldest brother, was walking toward him.

Leon could hear the scraping of Darian's boots on the stone, deliberate and measured, as if every step was carefully calculated.

Darian had always had a slithering, almost serpentine demeanor—his calm, calculating gaze always gave Leon the impression that he was sizing everyone up, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Leon instinctively knew that Darian was dangerous, a man who would stop at nothing to achieve his goals. His ambition was palpable, and his thirst for power seemed endless.

"Leon," Darian's voice interrupted Leon's thoughts. "I just wanted to congratulate you. I've heard about your progress. To be able to reach Initiate status at such a young age... truly impressive. You're a prodigy."

Leon offered a polite nod, unsure of what to make of Darian's words. There was a hint of sincerity in his tone, but something about it felt off. Darian, after all, was the sort to hide his true intentions behind a facade of pleasantries.

He was always the schemer, and Leon couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this conversation than met the eye.

Darian studied Leon for a moment, his gaze sharp as a hawk's. "But I must admit, I've heard rumors. People are saying you've reached Expert level already. I was curious to see if that was true."

Leon stiffened, but he kept his composure. He knew he had been hiding his true strength using the Shade of Erebos, showing only his Initiate status to the world. The secrecy had served him well, especially with his family's growing suspicion.

Darian's probing gaze lingered for a moment, before his face softened. "I see... You're still at Initiate, then." He gave a thin smile, though Leon could detect a trace of relief in his brother's expression. "Well, I suppose you'll get there soon enough. But for now, congratulations are in order." With that, Darian gave a curt nod and turned, walking away without another word.

Leon watched him go, feeling a sense of unease. The interaction had been strange—Darian had congratulated him, then stood there in silence for an uncomfortable amount of time, only to leave abruptly.

Leon was left with a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he brushed it off, assuming it was just Darian's strange way of communicating.

Turning back toward the main estate, Leon made his way inside, the long halls echoing with the sound of his footsteps.

The weight of his thoughts seemed to press down on him as he walked, the mysteries surrounding his family growing with each passing moment.

As he approached his room, Leon's thoughts were interrupted when, out of nowhere, a door slammed open with force. Before he could react, strong hands gripped his shoulders, pulling him into the room.

Leon could have easily broken free if he had wanted to, but something about the situation intrigued him. He decided to play along, curious to see where this would lead.

Once inside, he saw the familiar face of his brother, Lucian, who stood with a serious expression. Lucian was holding Leon's shoulders tightly, but his grip wasn't threatening—just firm.

"Hey, Leon," Lucian greeted him, his tone surprisingly calm. He released Leon and motioned for him to sit. "We need to talk."

Leon, still taken aback by the suddenness of the encounter, sat down across from his brother. Lucian's expression was unreadable, his usual disheveled appearance giving him a sense of mystery.

For a moment, there was an uncomfortable silence between them, the tension thick in the air.

Finally, Leon couldn't take it any longer. "Lucian," he said, breaking the silence. "Why does the family treat you like an outcast? What's going on?"

At the mention of his family, Lucian's demeanor instantly shifted. His eyes darkened, and for a moment, he was silent, as if wrestling with some internal conflict. Then, without warning, he stood up.

"Follow me," Lucian said, his voice low and urgent. "We need to go somewhere. It's not safe to talk here."

Leon hesitated for a moment but then stood, curiosity getting the better of him. He followed Lucian through the halls, trying to make sense of the situation. Lucian was moving quickly, almost as if he were in a hurry to avoid being seen.

The two brothers navigated through the estate, sneaking past maids and guards who roamed the halls. The secrecy of it all piqued Leon's interest even further.

After a tense journey through the estate, they finally reached the miniature forest behind the main estate. Lucian led Leon through the trees to a small outhouse, hidden from view. Without hesitation, Lucian moved to the back of the building, sliding open a window and sneaking inside.

He motioned for Leon to follow, and Leon did so without question, his heart racing with anticipation.

Inside, the air was thick with an eerie stillness. Lucian moved through the room like a shadow, opening a door that led to another, smaller chamber. When Leon stepped inside, his breath caught in his throat.

Lying on a table, almost lifeless, was their mother.

Her pale form was barely recognizable, her once vibrant face now gaunt and hollow. The faintest hint of a pulse could be seen, but it was clear she was barely holding on. Leon's eyes widened in shock and disbelief.

"Mother…?" Leon whispered, stepping forward. He could hardly believe what he was seeing. What had happened to her? Why was she like this?

Lucian, standing in the doorway, watched his brother with a cold, unreadable expression. "She's not what she seems, Leon," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "There's something wrong with her. Something the family doesn't want you to know."

As Leon's mind raced to comprehend what he was seeing, he realized that the answers he had been searching for—the ones that had been haunting him since his return—were now within his grasp. But at what cost?

The dim light of the room flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls as Leon gazed at his mother lying motionless on the table. His breath caught in his throat, his chest tightening with a mix of disbelief and sorrow. "What happened to her?" Leon whispered, his voice trembling.

Lucian stood by the door, his face hardening as he observed his younger brother's reaction. He didn't seem surprised by Leon's question, though the weight of his own words seemed to be something he had long accepted.

"I don't know," Lucian replied softly, his voice tinged with bitterness. "But your birth… It triggered something in her. After you were born, she started to… deteriorate. They say it's because of you." He glanced down, his eyes clouding with something that might have been regret or frustration. "But I don't believe that."

Leon's heart dropped at the revelation. He could feel a sharp pang of guilt twist in his gut, the kind of feeling that took root even when you knew there was no way you could have caused it. Tears began to well in his eyes, but before they could fall, Lucian sat next to him, his hand gently resting on Leon's shoulder.

"It's not your fault, Leon," Lucian said in a quiet, reassuring tone. "It's not. It's more my fault, to be honest."

Leon looked up at his brother, confused. Lucian's face had softened, but there was a deep sadness there—something that Leon had never fully understood until now.

Lucian let out a long breath, as if steeling himself for something. "Let me explain," he began, his voice steady, but the weight of his words clearly felt. "When I was born, everyone expected me to be a prodigy. Lysandra and Thorne had already set the bar high. They were exceptional, and everyone thought I would be the same. But when I went through the Mana Awakening Ceremony, nothing happened. No mana. The doctor said I was a Null."

Leon's brow furrowed. He had heard the term before but didn't fully understand it. "Null? What does that mean?"

Lucian's eyes darkened as he looked away. "It means I have no mana. None at all. Not a trace. It's like being born without a soul, except you're alive. A contradiction. You see, every living being has mana—it's in their blood, in their essence. But not me. I'm nothing but a hollow shell."

Leon's heart ached as he listened. He could hardly imagine what it must have been like for Lucian to be born without the very thing that made everyone around him so powerful.

"Most commoners are Nulls," Lucian continued, his voice flat, "but it doesn't matter to them. They live their lives, just like everyone else. But when you're born into a family like ours, it's different. You're a disgrace. A stain. Everyone looked at me like I was… a speck of dust."

Leon could hear the bitterness in Lucian's voice, a bitterness that had built up over years of rejection and pain. He could feel the weight of his brother's words, and yet, Leon couldn't help but feel a deep sorrow for him.

"After your birth," Lucian went on, his voice cracking slightly, "when mother started to fall ill, they blamed me. They said it was my fault, that I had caused her health to deteriorate somehow. I couldn't refute it. And the elders… the older generation of the family, they decided I had to be killed."

Leon's eyes widened in shock. "What?!" he exclaimed, his voice rising. "They wanted to kill you?"

Lucian nodded, his expression hollow. "Yes. But father fought for me. He didn't want that, so instead, they exiled me. My name was wiped from the family records. I became a nobody. No more Nightshade. Just Lucian. No legacy, no future."

Lucian paused, a bitter smile twisting his lips. "I tried, Leon. I trained every day, pushed my body to the brink, hoping that maybe, just maybe, I could prove everyone wrong. That I could become strong enough to earn a place in this world. But no matter what I did, it didn't change anything. I couldn't become strong. And now… now I'm being cast away."

The room was heavy with silence. Leon's heart clenched as he watched his brother's pain unfold in front of him. "But… why?" Leon asked softly. "Why are you visiting mother? She treated you like… like trash."

Lucian's eyes softened, the hardness in them slowly melting away. "Because I understand her," he said quietly. "I know what true loneliness feels like. I feel as though she's awake, trapped in her body, unable to move. She used to love this family, but now… no one visits her. They've all abandoned her." He paused, looking down at the frail woman lying on the table. "And I relate to her. I've been alone my whole life, Leon. Alone in this family. And so, I visit her. I feel sorry for her. I want to be there for her, even if she can't wake up."

Leon swallowed hard, his tears finally beginning to fall. "But why? Why should I visit her? If everyone else has abandoned her… why should I do it?"

Lucian stood, his face hardening once again, though there was a quiet resolve in his gaze. "Because, Leon, someone has to care. If not you, then who? She might never wake up, but maybe, just maybe, by visiting her, you can show her that she's not alone. That someone still cares."

Leon wiped his eyes, the weight of Lucian's words settling deep in his chest. Lucian's next words were filled with an almost painful sincerity. "When I leave… I hope you'll continue visiting her. Promise me, Leon. Don't let her be alone."

Leon nodded through his tears, his heart heavy with the promise he was making. "I promise."

Lucian smiled faintly, the first real smile Leon had seen in years. He pulled Leon into a tight embrace, his words soft but firm. "Be strong, Leon. Strong enough that no one can ever look down on you. Reach the peak, and when you do, don't forget about me. Forget about the rest of this family. But at least, when you're at the top, you'll know that I'll be proud of you. You're the only family I have left."

The two brothers lingered in that moment, a bond forged through shared pain and understanding. Then, silently, they left the room, slipping out of the window and making their way back toward the courtyard.

They reached a small hill on the outskirts of the estate, the quiet of the forest surrounding them. The stars above glittered in the night sky, a reminder of how vast the world was. Lucian turned to Leon, his gaze distant, as if lost in the past.

"Do you know the story of the Genesis Knight?" Lucian asked, his voice softer now, as if speaking of a dream long past.

Leon shook his head. "No, who is he?"

Lucian's eyes brightened for a moment, a glimmer of hope sparking in his gaze. "The Genesis Knight was a commoner. His village was destroyed by demons, and he survived through sheer luck. He swore vengeance and set out on a journey to rid the world of demons. He even ventured into the Forbidden Land, where he held back the demonic forces while the Archmages set up a barrier to protect the world. In his final act, he told the Archmages to close the barrier while he was still inside, allowing it to fully charge and reach full power. He sacrificed himself, but in doing so, he saved the world from the demons for 5000 years."

Lucian paused, looking at Leon with a somber smile. "He was the kind of knight I always wanted to be. Someone who protected the world with everything they had. But… destiny had other plans for me. I'll never be that knight."

Leon listened intently, the sadness in his heart growing as he realized just how much Lucian had given up, how much potential had been snuffed out before it even had a chance to blossom. He could see it now—the dreams that Lucian had once held, now buried beneath the weight of a life he never asked for.

"You were meant for greatness," Leon whispered, his voice filled with sorrow. "But… it was taken from you."

Lucian looked at him, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "Maybe. But it's not too late for you, Leon. Don't let my story be yours. Become the knight I never could be. Protect the world, and don't let anyone hold you back."

Leon's heart clenched as he stared at his brother, the pain in Lucian's eyes piercing through him. He wiped his tears away and nodded, the weight of his brother's words pushing him forward.

"I will," Leon promised, his voice firm. "I will reach the peak. For you.

Lucian reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, weathered ring. He held it up between them, the silver glinting faintly in the moonlight.

Leon's gaze immediately locked onto the ring, his eyes widening in recognition. The obsidian band, smooth and unyielding, was adorned with a delicate purple flower on the signet.

It was almost identical to the pendant he had worn for as long as he could remember. His heart skipped a beat as a strange sense of connection washed over him.

Lucian met his gaze, a somber expression on his face. "I made this," he said quietly, his voice steady but filled with a deep sorrow. "I wasn't allowed to train with the family's resources. They kept me locked away from everything—denied me any help. So I left the main house for weeks at a time to train on my own. I learned blacksmithing and forged my own weapons."

He paused, running a finger gently over the flower on the ring. "This... This is something I made from materials I found during my travels. I didn't have much, but I wanted to create something that would remind me of the family, something that would keep me connected to the name."

Leon's heart pounded in his chest as he listened. The weight of Lucian's words, the sacrifices he had made, struck deep within him. Lucian had been so alone—isolated by a family that saw him as nothing but a stain on their name, yet still, he found a way to respect that name, to hold onto the legacy that had been so cruelly denied to him.

"The Nightshade flower," Lucian continued, his voice quieter now, almost reverent, "is beautiful, isn't it? Despite everything that's happened, I still find it incredible. It's the one thing I've always admired, the one thing that kept me going through all the darkness."

He looked at Leon, his eyes filled with an emotion that was both tender and heavy with finality. "This is my last remaining memento of the Nightshade family. I want you to have it, Leon. I want you to carry it with you. Remember where you come from, even if the rest of the world forgets."

Leon's fingers brushed over the obsidian ring, the smoothness of the stone grounding him in the moment. His heart felt heavy, but also strangely full—full of love, regret, and something else. Hope. He slowly slid the ring onto his finger, the cool metal settling against his skin.

"I promise I'll carry it with me," Leon said softly, his voice thick with emotion. He looked at Lucian, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Thank you, Lucian. I won't forget you. You'll always be a part of me."

Lucian smiled, but it was a bittersweet smile—one that held all the sadness of a man who had given up everything for a dream that was no longer his to chase. He stood up and extended his arms, pulling Leon into a tight hug.

Leon clung to his brother, unwilling to let go, but knowing, deep down, that this was their final moment together. Their paths were diverging, and they both understood that the distance between them would never be bridged again.

The two brothers stepped apart, each facing their own destiny. Leon turned to leave, his heart heavy with the weight of his brother's sacrifice and the promise he had made. Lucian, with one last look, disappeared into the shadows, walking away from the family he had once called his own.

As Leon walked back toward the main estate, his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, emotions, and unresolved questions. He felt the ring on his finger, its presence a constant reminder of the brother he had lost, and of the promise he had made to carry the Nightshade name with honor.

Back in the outhouse, in the dark room where their mother lay motionless, something stirred.

A single, delicate tear drifted down her cheek, catching the faint light from the window.

The tear shimmered in the darkness, like a final, unspoken plea for redemption, for forgiveness, for the love that had been forgotten.

It was a tear for the family that had fallen apart, for the son who had been cast aside, for the brother who had been forsaken.

It was a tear that spoke of a past that could never be undone and a future that remained uncertain.

But in that tear, there was a glimmer of hope. Perhaps, just perhaps, there was still a chance for redemption.