No home anymore

Since that day, young Raphael never saw his father, older brothers.

Some townsfolk said they were eaten by a sea magic beast, while others claimed they were swept away by the waves.

When their mother learned of their deaths, it was as if all the strength had been drained from her. 

Her already frail body grew weaker, and she spent her days curled up in bed, coughing incessantly. 

Raphael's two older sisters, witnessing their mother's increasing frailty, were filled with anxiety and sorrow.

They were not strong enough to take on the heavy labor men could do.

They knew there was no extra money in the family and that their mother didn't have much time left.

So, they made a decision.

They sold themselves into servitude at a wealthy household to earn enough money for their mother to get treatment.

When their mother found out, she was adamantly opposed, falling to her knees in tears, begging them not to do it.

She couldn't bear the thought of more separation.

But the two sisters had already made up their minds.

They eventually left home.

On the day of their departure, they didn't bid their mother farewell.

Instead, they left two bags of copper coins on the table and quietly left.

The two heavy bags of copper sat silently on the table, while their mother sat nearby, her gaze vacant, saying nothing for a long time.

That night, her hair turned considerably whiter, the wrinkles on her face deepened, and her back grew more hunched.

From then on, it was only Raphael, his third brother, and their mother left in the household.

Though Raphael's third brother was older, he was still just a boy, incapable of taking on the burden of supporting the family.

To survive, he took on odd jobs around town, moving goods or running errands, but his meager earnings were far from enough to sustain the three of them.

Each day, Raphael's third brother ran himself ragged, growing thinner and more worn, as the hardships of life gradually stripped away his youthful innocence.

Young Raphael stayed at home, helping his mother with simple chores, fetching water, and cooking porridge, taking care of her as best he could.

But their mother's health continued to deteriorate, her persistent cough worsening with each passing day.

She often sat by the bed, staring into the distance with hollow eyes.

One day, a priest in white robes arrived in their town to conduct a test for the local children.

The test was to find children with magical talent.

Young Raphael queued up with the other children, not expecting much—after all, this didn't seem like something that would concern him.

His heart was filled with worry for his mother; he couldn't imagine leaving home and what would happen to her and his brother if he did.

Yet fate had a different plan.

When the priest placed his hand on Raphael's forehead, he felt a warm surge of power rising within him.

The priest smiled gently and spoke the words that would change Raphael's life forever.

"You have an outstanding affinity for water magic."

Those words echoed like thunder in Raphael's mind. He had never imagined he truly possessed magical talent.

Since Raphael's third brother was older than the specified age limit, he wasn't tested.

When the news was delivered to their home, for the first time in many days, Raphael saw his mother smile.

It was the first time since their father and older brothers had vanished that her face showed such joy.

She grasped Raphael's hands, her eyes glistening with tears as she spoke softly.

"Raphael, you must study well.

You are our only hope... You can leave here and have a better life."

From that point on, Raphael attended school during the day and helped with household chores after returning home in the afternoon.

However, fate seemed determined to deny them any respite.

One day, after school, Raphael rushed home as usual, only to sense that something was off the moment he walked through the door.

The house was eerily silent.

His mother sat stiffly in the old wooden chair, staring blankly out the window, tears silently streaming down her face.

"Mom, what's wrong?" 

Raphael asked in a panic, an ominous feeling rising in his chest.

His mother didn't respond, as if she hadn't heard him.

Just then, their neighbor entered the house, speaking softly.

"Raphael, your brother...

something happened."

Raphael froze on the spot, as if the entire world had come to a standstill in that instant.

He stared at the neighbor, his lips trembling as he struggled to speak.

"W-What happened?"

The neighbor sighed, their eyes filled with sorrow.

"Earlier today, while your brother was unloading goods at the dock, the cargo fell from the ship…

He didn't get out of the way in time and was crushed…

He died on the spot."

Those words hit Raphael like a boulder crashing into his chest, suffocating him.

His mind went blank, his steps unsteady, as he was plunged into a deep well of grief and despair.

He couldn't believe that this was real—his third brother, who had always silently supported the family without complaint, was suddenly gone, without any warning.

His mother sat there in silence, tears streaming down her face, her soul seemingly having left her body. 

In her trembling hands, she clutched Raphael's brother's old, tattered coat, tears falling onto the rough fabric.

From that day on, Raphael became the pillar of the family.

His brother's death not only signaled the collapse of the family's support, but it also meant that he and his mother would face an even harder life ahead.

Their days were filled with endless struggle, but even so, his mother continued to encourage Raphael in her weak voice.

"Child, don't give up...

You must keep studying, keep moving forward—for yourself and for this family."

Raphael went to the academy every morning to study magic.

He knew that magic was his only chance to escape their dire situation.

He dared not slack off, absorbing every bit of knowledge he could.

After school, Raphael would head to the church to do odd jobs—sweeping the courtyard, organizing books, polishing statues.

Though his strength was limited, he worked diligently.

Sometimes, the priest would give him some food, and Raphael would always choose items that would last longer, like dry bread or biscuits.

Though the food wasn't much, to Raphael and his mother, it was a lifeline.

When he returned home, his mother would already be curled up in bed, her face pale.

Her body grew weaker by the day, and the sound of her cough echoed through their dilapidated house.

"Child, you're back."

She would always greet him with a weak smile, doing her best to hide her fatigue and pain.

Raphael would take out the food from the church, carefully breaking the dry bread into small pieces and placing it in her hands.

His mother would look at him, both proud and sad.

She knew that her son was carrying far more than any child his age should bear.

"Mom, eat up. The church gave us this; don't worry."

Raphael's voice was gentle, his eyes filled with hope.

His mother would nod slightly and take the bread, but after just one small bite, she would set it down.

Gently, she would push the food back toward Raphael.

"I'm not hungry.

You need to eat more—you're still growing."

Raphael saw the pallor of his mother's face, and his eyes reddened with unshed tears.

He knew her claim of not being hungry was just to ensure he ate more.

She poured all her love into him, while sacrificing her own needs.

"Mom, you have to eat something.

Your body needs the strength."

Raphael tried to keep his voice calm, though the urgency was still evident.

But his mother shook her head again.

"I'm fine, child.

You're young, and you need the food more—to have the strength to study and work."

All Raphael could do was nod, but his heart grew heavier.

Every bite of bread felt as though he was chewing on the weight of their shared burden.

His mother was growing weaker, and he was powerless to stop it.

One day, after hurrying home from the church like usual, Raphael opened the door to a scene that made his heart lurch.

A large pool of blood stained the floor, and his mother was slumped beside the bed, clutching her chest as she coughed violently, blood trickling from the corners of her mouth.

Her face was as pale as paper, her eyes vacant and lifeless.

"Mom!" 

Raphael cried out in horror, rushing to her side and falling to his knees, grasping her cold hand.

He wanted to run for help, but his mother weakly held him back.

"Don't go..."

Her voice was hoarse and faint, barely audible.

She struggled to open her tired eyes, gazing at her son with a gentle smile—the last act of a mother's love.

"Raphael..."

Her words came slowly, each one taking immense effort.

"You must... be an honest man...

Never do wrong...

Keep studying magic...

Use it to help others...

Don't let me down..."

Raphael's heart felt as if it was being torn apart.

Tears flowed uncontrollably from his eyes as he gripped his mother's hand tightly, sobbing.

"Mom, don't say that...

I'll go get help, you'll get better!"

His mother shook her head slightly, her smile tender but utterly exhausted.

"Be an... honest person...

Remember..."

Her fingers trembled as she gently stroked Raphael's cheek, as if to comfort his breaking heart.

"Mom..." 

Raphael's tears fell freely, his grief overwhelming him.

Her hand slipped from his face, falling limply to her side.

The world around Raphael seemed to go still.

His mother's eyes remained slightly open, but they were now lifeless.

Her body was still sitting there, but the spark of life was gone.

Raphael knelt beside her, holding her hand, his tears silently falling onto her cold skin.

His mother would never respond again.

He no longer had a home.

That small, cramped house could no longer contain the warmth of the memories they once shared.

With his siblings scattered and his parents gone, the world had abandoned him, leaving him alone with only the echoes of his past for company.

The once dependent child had now lost everything, left to face the harshness of the world all on his own.