Rudious looked toward the wheelchair.
A thin, frail child sat there.
His hair — in the light of the evening sun — looked like someone had brushed the faintest shade of violet over white. Barely there. Like a whisper of color.
The child's eyes were still quiet. But seeing Drake, he tried to smile.
A strange, broken smile.
As if he had forgotten how.
---
Rudious smiled back.
"Hey there. Hey, Drake."
He leaned forward and reached out toward the child.
Then Drake pushed the wheelchair back.
"Father — wait."
Exactly like an older brother.
"He's not fully recovered yet. It'll hurt him."
The child spoke — with that same broken smile —
"Yeah... Veil... hurt..."
Like someone learning words for the very first time.
Rudious blinked.
"Oh — Veil?"
"Yes." Drake said it simply. "That's the name I gave him."
A quiet smile crossed Rudious's face.
"It's a good name."
But seeing Drake's happiness — he left it at that.
---
"So, Veil — how are you feeling?"
"Good... Veil... good."
"And who is this?" Rudious pointed toward Drake.
"Bro... Dre-s... bro."
Drake lit up — as if he couldn't be prouder of himself.
Rudious looked at him quietly. And stood.
---
Then Drake tugged at his sleeve.
"Father. Father."
"Yes — what is it?"
Drake said with a soft, warm laugh —
"Veil's hair isn't like Mom's."
Rudious went completely still.
As if someone had placed a weight directly on his chest.
The smile disappeared. His eyes told a different story entirely.
Then — with that same smile carefully put back in place —
"Yes, son. You're right."
---
Then Veil spoke up —
"Mom... like... Veil."
All three of them laughed at once.
Rudious. Drake. Veil.
---
Clad's voice came from the doorway —
"Young Master."
He spotted them and came down immediately, a warm robe in his hands, slightly out of breath by the time he arrived.
"Alright — you three enjoy yourselves."
Rudious stepped forward. "Greetings, Clad."
"Greet — Greetings, My Lord." Clad straightened. "You should be training with Leo and Jack, you know."
"No — I don't need that."
"Is that so." Rudious said with a quiet smile. Then — "How is the child doing?"
"Oh — Veil? He's improving. But..."
"But what?"
A silence settled.
"He's living again — as a new child. Learning everything from the beginning."
"I see." Rudious nodded. "But why is he still in the wheelchair? Hasn't his body recovered?"
"It's not that. His mind is developing again. So for certain reasons he can't walk yet. He can stand — but."
"I see." A pause. "And his name — ahem — who gave it to him?"
"Oh — Young Master gave it to him. While telling him stories about the hero."
Clad paused — as if something had just come back to him.
"Oh — forgive me, My Lord. I forgot that that name..."
"It's fine." Rudious said. "And where are you taking that?"
There was a strange smile on his face. But genuine. Real.
"Ah — this is for Veil. From Young Master. The cold season is coming."
"Ohh — Young Master."
Rudious laughed softly and gave Clad a light pat on the shoulder.
"Have the servants arrange for some clothes to be made for him as well. From the tailors. Understood?"
"As you wish, My Lord."
Clad left.
---
The smile stayed on Rudious's face.
"You seem quite happy, My Lord."
A voice from behind.
"Oh — Jorald." Rudious turned. "And what happened to you?"
"Nothing — a little training with the children."
Jorald's clothes were dusted with dirt. Not a scratch on him.
"But you — what's got you in such a mood?"
"I saw Drake laugh." Rudious said. "Genuinely laugh. For the first time in years."
His eyes grew wet.
"And do you know what name he gave that child?"
"What?" Jorald asked with a smile.
"Veil."
A moment of silence.
Then Jorald burst out laughing —
"Would you look at that — father and son have the same taste in names. Ho ho ho."
He cleared his throat.
"Right then. I'll go say hello to them."
"Go ahead. And clean your clothes."
"Yes, My Lord."
---
Jorald left.
Rudious walked out of the garden. Went to his room. Sat down in his chair.
And looked at the picture hanging on the wall across from him.
"Listen... after you left — today is the first time Drake has smiled like that."
A pause.
"Yes, yes — I know. I broke my promise."
"But I have no regrets. Not anymore."
---
He leaned back. Reached back and pulled the curtain aside.
The warm evening light — amber and red — spilled into the room.
The sound of birds. The sound of training somewhere below. Soft. Distant.
He let his eyes drift.
"Veil... hmm... Veil."
"How long has it been since I heard that name."
---
The light shifted.
The amber evening softened — and became the bright light of afternoon. The birdsong and the distant training became something else. Wind. Strong gusts rolling through open air.
---
A training ground.
Two boys stood facing each other. Around twelve years old. Wooden swords in hand. Their clothes were exactly what a noble household would dress its children in.
The one with grey hair — just like Rudious — spoke first —
"So this is your talent, Veil? Cool!"
The boy across from him had hair that was completely white.
He shouted back —
"Where is it cool — it doesn't work in battle! It's not like yours — stone body guy!"
He paused.
"And my name is NOT Veil — you madman!"
The grey haired boy shot back —
"And how many times have I told YOU — it's not stone body. It's Steel Body. *Steel Body.*"
---
Then the bell at the estate gate rang.
A signal that someone had arrived.
---
Rudious's eyes opened.
A smile on his face.
But his eyes were wet.
"What a wonderful dream."
---
**[Chapter 12 — End]**
*A name. A smile. A dream of what could be. Add the story to your library — see you in Chapter 13.*
---