Family

Sometimes, things in our lives do not go the way we want. We try our best and do everything we can. We put all our effort, our hopes, our desires, and everything into the thing that we desire.

We would hope that we become successful after doing everything that we can do for it. Of course, not everyone can put in the same effort, and some other people do more, but would it be wrong to want something and desire to have it?

It is not wrong, is it?

But, then, sometimes we fail. Even after putting in all the effort, we fail, hitting the wall. What would happen when this happens?

Feelings would overtake, wouldn't they?

Sadness, tiredness, anger, regret, disappointment…..All these feelings would overtake our minds.

Many of you might have experienced failure from an early age in your life. Not everyone can always be successful, after all.

Then, what is the thing that would keep you going even after you have faced countless failures? What could give you the motivation to move forward?

I am pretty sure there would be many people who would give this question a similar answer.

Family.

When we fail at life when we feel like we can not move forward….

At those times, our family could be the reason why we would be able to move once again, standing up.

It could be for seeing the smile on one's father's face, being able to make their mother experience the life that she could have never had, being able to follow the footprints of your elder siblings, being a good example to your younger ones…..

At least that was the case for me, though I don't know if the same applies to you.

For me, my family had been the reason I was able to push myself forward even while I faced failures over and over again.

When I failed to construct the first line of Thorne's spear, my father's disappointed but patient eyes pushed me to try harder.

When I failed to grasp our family's fire arts, my brother Alistair spent extra hours with me, showing me the techniques again and again.

When I failed to make the correct judgments to the questions my father asked, my mother's gentle encouragement kept me from giving up.

When I failed to reach the strength that my brother and predecessors had at the same age, the memory of my family's unwavering belief in me drove me to keep training, keep striving, and keep hoping.

Family was everything to me. It was the reason I could endure, the reason I could rise after every fall.

And that is why, right at this moment, I can't breathe. The heart that would beat on the left side of my chest feels clumped.

The world looks blurry.

I can't think straight at all.

I can't look into anyone at all.

Is it because I feel ashamed?

It is not.

Because I know that once I take a look at them, I will see those expressions again.

My father's cold words, my mother's disappointment, and my brother's anger—they crushed me in ways no failure ever had.

I had always believed that no matter what, my family would be my pillar, my unwavering support.

How could I know that even having hope would hurt this much?

At this very moment, how could I know that the disappointment would make me unable to breathe?

If not even my family would not believe my words, how can I expect anyone else to do so?

If, in this world, the people who became the reason that I pushed myself to move forward look at me like that, how can I speak?

How can I do anything other than accept this?

The anguish is overwhelming. My eyes blur with tears, and the knot in my heart tightens painfully. Just because of some words from another person, they would discard their own son, without even listening?

I asked myself if that would be the case if the same thing happened to my elder brother Alistair. Would they give him the same treatment?

What about my elder sister?

Would she get the same treatment?

Or was it because it was me?

The questions swirl in my mind, each one a dagger twisting deeper into my soul. The unfairness, the pain of being cast aside by those I loved most, it all crashes over me in waves of despair.

I think of Alistair, my brother, the one who excelled in everything. Would they cast him aside so easily? Would they doubt his every word, his every action?

No. They would listen. They would believe him.

And my sister, Miranda, with her grace and intelligence. Would they condemn her without a second thought?

No. They would stand by her. They would defend her.

But me? I am the one they doubt. I am the one they discard.

The realization is a bitter pill to swallow. It leaves a hollow ache in my chest, a pain that words cannot describe.

Why? Why is it different for me?

The question echoes in the silence of my mind, unanswered and unanswerable. The unfairness of it all crushes me, leaving me gasping for breath, struggling to hold on to any semblance of hope or strength.

I feel the weight of my family's judgment, the coldness of their eyes, and the finality of their decision pressing down on me. And at that moment, I realized that I was truly alone.

For the first time, I see the world for what it is—unforgiving, merciless, and painfully unfair.

Tears spill down my cheeks, hot and unchecked, as I face the harsh reality of my situation. I am alone, abandoned by those I loved most, cast aside without a second thought.

The pain is unbearable...

It is so much that I can't keep this any longer.

I want to forget everything.

At least for a second, at least for a while, I don't want to think of anything.

The pain is unbearable, but even in the depths of my despair, a small voice within me whispers, urging me to hold on, to find a way to survive.

I clutch the bracelet on my wrist, the one that appeared mysteriously. I don't know what it does or who it came from, but it becomes my lifeline, a small glimmer of hope in the darkness.

'Please.'

Can I survive this ordeal, not just physically but emotionally and mentally?

"Take him away," my father's voice echoed in my ears, and I felt the firm grip of the guards on my arms, pulling me away from the grand hall.

I walked with heavy steps, my mind a whirl of memories and emotions. The faces of my family, once my source of strength, now felt like ghosts haunting my every step.

"First light," the guard muttered as we passed through the mansion's corridors, and I knew that tomorrow would bring a new and terrifying reality.

As we reach the same confinement room, the door gets closed once again.

"Haaaah...Haaaah..."

Finally, as we are in the darkness, I can let everything go.

I can let the fire inside me go.

I can no longer hold it in.

CRACK! 

The pain spreads through my hand as my fist hits the wall.

"Why?"

The same question once again.

"Why did it have to be me?"

The pain is unbearable, not the one in my hand, but the one in my heart.

Yet, still, even in the depths of my despair, a small voice within me whispers, urging me to hold on, to find a way to survive.

"At least I will believe in you."

I clutch the bracelet on my wrist, the one that appeared mysteriously. I don't know what it does or who it came from, but it becomes my lifeline, a small glimmer of hope in the darkness.

Yeah…..

I may be alone, but I will not give up.

I can still move forward.

For whoever left me this small token of comfort, for myself, and for the small, stubborn spark of hope that refuses to be extinguished, I will endure. I will survive.

And one day…..I will prove…..

Prove my innocence to the world.

So that everyone who had never believed in me….

So that those who discarded me like this can understand their mistake.

'Yeah….that is right….Don't give up, Lucavion….It is not over yet….'

But right now, I can rest a little, right?

I hope so.

Because I can not keep my consciousness any longer.

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