Chapter 3
Two years had slipped by unnoticed.
Elyra was now two years old, while Eldern had just turned five. In that time, the Solv household had settled into a warm, lively rhythm — one that Elyra still found both comforting and deeply unsettling.
Every afternoon, Eldern would sneak into her room with a storybook clutched tightly in his small hands. He had recently moved to his own bedroom, but he still made time to read to her almost every day. For Elyra, whose previous life as Ryudien had been devoid of any formal education, books held an almost magical allure. The elegant rows of letters on each page felt like doors to worlds she had never been allowed to enter.
Today was no different.
"Elyra, look! A new story about a brave knight!" Eldern announced proudly, puffing out his chest as he sat beside her on the soft carpet.
Elyra's eyes sparkled. "Eden… read!"
From the doorway, Damnern watched them with a gentle smile. He stepped forward, kneeling beside his children. He is twenty-six now.
"Let Papa read for you today, Elyra. I'll do the voices too."
"No!" Elyra shook her head firmly, clutching Eldern's sleeve. "Eyya only wan Eden!"
Damnern's shoulders visibly slumped. The mighty Strongest Warrior No. 5 looked like a kicked puppy. Eldern, on the other hand, grinned from ear to ear.
"Hehe, sorry Papa. Elyra prefers me," he said smugly.
Elyra secretly rolled her eyes. Why are you so proud about this?
Her memories drifted back to an event three months earlier.
On a quiet afternoon, Eldern had come again, carrying a brand-new book.
"Elyra! I brought a new book today," Eldern said cheerfully.
"Wahhh," Elyra's eyes sparkled with excitement.
"If you want Eldern to read it, you have to ask nicely first, hehe," Eldern teased.
"Eden! Eden! Pwease read it for Eyya," Elyra replied, as usual.
"Hehe, what can I do? If it's my beloved little sister asking, Eldern can't refuse," Eldern said proudly.
As Eldern opened the book, Elyra suddenly noticed something.
"Eden, what happened to your hand?" Elyra asked, staring at the bandage wrapped around it.
"Oh, this? I got it during training with Papa. It's nothing serious."
At that moment, something dark stirred within Elyra.
So it's the same after all…
Even in this life, a father was pushing his young child into the world of warriors with blood and pain. The image of a five-year-old boy being forced into brutal combat training made her stomach twist with sickening familiarity. She couldn't understand how their mother, Elina, could remain calm about it.
That night, she made a quiet decision.
"Mama, Eyya wants to sleep with Eden tonight."
Elina, who is twenty-five now, smiled softly and nodded. "Alright, but don't kick him in your sleep."
As Elyra toddled after Eldern, teddy bear in her arms — a precious gift from maid Sasha — Damnern appeared from the bathroom, freshly bathed.
"Elyra, where are you going, sweetheart?" he asked warmly, reaching out to pat her head.
Elyra walked straight past him without a glance, her tiny face cold.
Damnern blinked in confusion, his hand hanging awkwardly in the air. "Did I… do something wrong?"
Elina chuckled from the living room. "Looks like you're in the doghouse tonight, darling."
Later that night, as Elyra lay beside her brother, the heavy silence of room allowed the old memories she had tried to bury resurfaced.
It all began twelve years ago in the Willoreach region, when Ryudien was only six years old. His father, Blanco Rontow, twenty-five at the time, was a drunkard who often beat Ryudien's mother whenever he came home intoxicated.
"Why is the money never enough?!" Blanco roared, slamming the empty bottle onto the rickety wooden table. The sound echoed through the small, dim house like a crack of thunder.
Siana flinched, her thin shoulders trembling. Her stomach had been empty since yesterday, and the sharp pain made her dizzy. Still, she forced herself to speak softly, hoping to calm him.
"Blanco… please, I've tried everything I can. Just… lower your voice a little—"
"Shut your mouth!"
His hand swung fast. The slap sent Siana crashing to the floor. She clutched her burning cheek, tears spilling down her face as hunger, exhaustion, and shame twisted together inside her.
In the corner of the room, six-year-old Ryudien curled into a tight ball, hugging his knees to his chest. He bit his lip hard, trying not to make a sound. His small body shook uncontrollably as he watched his mother on the ground.
Siana slowly pushed herself up. Her gaze shifted toward Ryudien.
For a moment, her eyes dulled.
He looked so much like his father — the same dark hair, the same eyes, even the same fearful expression. Every time she looked at him, it felt like staring at a younger version of the man who had destroyed her life.
"What are you looking at?" she suddenly hissed, her voice cracking.
Ryudien jumped. Before he could react, Siana grabbed his thin arm with surprising strength.
"M-Mom… it hurts…"
But Siana wasn't listening anymore. Years of pain, hunger, and resentment finally broke free.
"You're just like him," she whispered bitterly, tears streaming down her face. "Every single time I look at you… I see him."
Her grip tightened as her voice rose into a broken shout.
"Why were you even born?! Why do I have to suffer because of you?!"
She shoved him hard. Ryudien stumbled backward and fell, scraping his elbow on the rough floor. He didn't cry out. He had learned long ago that crying only made things worse.
Siana stared at her son lying on the ground, her chest heaving. For a brief second, a flicker of guilt crossed her face — but it was quickly swallowed by exhaustion and rage.
She turned away, covering her face with both hands as quiet sobs escaped her.
That was the beginning of the end. Not long after that night, unable to endure the endless cycle of suffering, Siana chose to end her life.
Siana's hands shook violently as she stared at her son. Her eyes were hollow, broken.
"Ryudien…" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I'm so sorry… Please forgive me."
End of Chapter 3