(Next Morning)
(Eva and Eyan's house)
Eva gently shook Eyan’s shoulder.
“Eyan...Wake up… please wake up.”
Eyan stirred and opened his eyes. The moment he saw Eva’s anxious expression, all sleep vanished. He sat up quickly and cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheek.
“What happened?” he asked softly. “Why do you look so worried?”
Eva took a shaky breath.
“Go to Brother… please.”
“To Luca?” Eyan frowned slightly. “Why?”
“I used your magical communicator to talk to him,” she explained. “To tell him everything.”
Her voice wavered. “But his voice sounded really bad.”
She lowered her gaze.
“I think he’s sick.”
Then she looked back at him, eyes pleading.
“Can you go and check on him?”
Worry flashed across Eyan’s face.
“Alright,” he said immediately. “I’ll go now. Don’t worry.”
He stood up and headed for the door—but stopped after only a few steps.
Eva watched him, confused.
“Come out,” Eyan said quietly. “…Boys.”
The shadows near the wall stirred.
From the darkness emerged Talon, Fen, and Mara, their black forms stepping silently into the morning light.
Eyan turned back to Eva. “They’ll stay with you.”
“If anything happens, they’ll inform me at once.”
Eva nodded.
“Okay.” She forced a small smile. “Don’t worry about me. Go to Brother.”
Eyan nodded once, then left the house. The door closed behind him.
Eva remained seated on the bed, her hands clenched tightly in her lap, unease settling in her chest.
“I hope…” she whispered to herself, “…Brother is alright.”
__________________________________
— The Night Before —
(The Magic Tower of Velmoria)
After sending Eva back to her home, a magic circle ignited inside the tower.
Light twisted violently—then collapsed inward.
Luca stepped out.
The moment his boots touched the stone floor, his vision sharpened with cold fury.
“I’ll find the woman who dared to use mind control on sister-in-law.”
He lifted his hand.
Mana surged.
Then—
“—Khk!”
A wet, broken cough tore from his throat.
Blood burst from his mouth—hot, metallic—splattering across the marble floor.
Luca staggered, his body folding as if something inside him had snapped.
“Urgh—!”
He dropped hard to his knees.
More blood poured out, slipping between his fingers as he clutched his mouth, his breathing turning ragged, uneven. His chest burned like it was being torn apart from the inside.
A violent ringing screamed inside his skull—sharp, relentless—like iron spikes driven straight into his mind.
His vision warped.
The walls bent.
“AARGH—!!”
Luca screamed, gripping his head as pain exploded through his nerves. His body convulsed, veins standing out along his neck, his magic spiraling wildly out of control.
Knock. Knock.
“Master?” a voice called anxiously. “Is that you? Are you all right?”
Another surge hit.
Luca choked, blood spilling freely now, dripping down his chin, staining his robes.
“GH—AAH—!!”
The door burst open.
A magician rushed inside—and froze in horror.
“Master—!”
He ran to Luca, catching him before he collapsed face-first onto the floor.
“Master, what happened?!”
Luca coughed again, violently—blood soaking into the magician’s sleeves.
His body trembled uncontrollably, magic leaking from him in unstable waves.
The magician’s face drained of color.
“…This is—”
His voice shook.
“A backlash.”
A severe one.
He looked up and screamed—
“Everyone! Hurry! Master Luca is collapsing—bring healers, now!”
The tower filled with hurried footsteps as the night swallowed Luca’s scream.
__________________________________
Luca lay on the bed, his breaths heavy and uneven.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
The heat radiating from his body was unnatural.
Several magicians stood nearby, whispering anxiously among themselves.
“We’ve done everything we could,” one of them said, voice tight. “But Master Luca’s fever isn’t going down.”
Another magician broke down, clutching the bedside.
“Master… please…”
Luca’s chest rose sharply as the pain surged again.
Luca’s POV—
His chest rose sharply.
His breathing turned heavy, broken, each breath scraping his throat raw.
Twenty-two years ago
Royal Palace of Velmoria
…
The sound of his own breathing echoed loudly in his ears.
Small. Weak. Burning.
Luca’s eyelids fluttered open.
The ceiling above him was unfamiliar—high, ornate.
A child’s soft, hesitant voice broke through the haze.
“Mother… who is this boy?”
A gentle woman stepped into his blurred vision. Her presence was warm, calming, like a quiet flame.
Queen Seris Valenne smiled faintly at the young boy beside her.
“He is your new friend, Eyan,” she said softly. “He will live with us from now on.”
The little boy—Eyan—looked at Luca with wide, curious eyes.
“New friend…?”
He hesitated. “What happened to him?”
Seris’s expression softened as she leaned closer, her hand hovering over Luca.
“He’s sick,” she replied gently. “He has a fever.”
Luca’s mind spun.
A cool touch brushed against his burning cheek.
Seris’s hand.
“He’s still burning,” she murmured, concern lacing her voice.
She turned to Eyan.
“Go and change the water.”
“Yes, Mother.”
Small footsteps hurried away, then returned. Eyan carefully handed her a bowl.
Seris dipped a cloth into the cool water and gently placed it over Luca’s forehead.
The relief was immediate—but fleeting.
“There,” she whispered. “Don’t worry. You’ll be all right.”
Her voice was steady. Certain. Safe.
The heat still raged inside him, but her words wrapped around him like a promise.
Luca’s vision dimmed. The world blurred. And slowly—quietly—
He fell asleep.
__________________________________
(One Month Later)
(King Thalor Therald’s Chamber)
Queen Seris Valenne stood before the king, her expression strained.
“Your Majesty… I don’t know what else to do. That child won’t open his heart to me.”
Her voice faltered. “Even after I showed him the adoption papers, he kept saying it was a lie. That one day… we’d throw him out.”
King Thalor’s jaw tightened.
“I’ll speak to him.”
Outside the chamber, little Eyan stood frozen.
He had heard everything.
Without a word, he turned and walked away.
__________________________________
(Luca’s Chamber)
Luca sat on the bed, knees pulled to his chest.
His small body trembled as silent sobs shook him. Tears soaked into the blanket beneath his clenched fists.
__________________________________
(Outside Luca’s Room)
Eyan approached. A maid bowed, holding an untouched tray of food.
“Prince Eyan…”
“He didn’t eat,” Eyan said quietly.
“No, Your Highness. Little Lord locked the door from inside.”
Eyan exhaled slowly.
“Step aside.”
The maid moved back.
Eyan’s voice hardened.
“Come out, boys.”
From the shadows, Talon, Fen, and Mara emerged.
“Break the door.”
Thunder cracked through the corridor.
The door shattered.
Inside, Luca flinched violently.
Eyan rushed in, grabbed Luca’s hand, and pulled him up.
“Let me go!” Luca cried. “Where are you taking me?!”
__________________________________
(The Secret Chamber)
Eyan opened the hidden door and pushed Luca inside.
Luca stumbled and fell to the floor.
“What’s wrong with you?!” he sobbed.
Eyan knelt and placed something cold into Luca’s shaking hands—a black marble.
Luca stared at it, confused.
“What is this…?”
“Our family’s secret,” Eyan said. “Only Father, Mother… and i know about it.”
“Then why are you showing me?” Luca whispered.
Eyan met his eyes.
“Because you’re family too.”
Luca’s lips trembled. Tears spilled freely.
“You’re lying,” he cried. “Everyone leaves. Just like my parents. I’ll be alone again.”
Eyan shook his head fiercely.
“We won’t. I promise.”
Luca broke.
He clutched Eyan’s clothes as Eyan wrapped his arms around him, holding him tight.
“What’s your name?” Eyan asked softly.
“…Luca,” he sobbed.
Eyan smiled.
“Luca—welcome to the family.”
Luca cried harder, but this time—
He wasn’t alone.
__________________________________
(Two Years Later)
Luca was in his room when the sound reached him.
A cry.
Sharp. Broken.
Eyan’s voice.
Luca’s breath caught.
He ran to the door and slammed his small fist against it—once, twice, again—hard enough to sting.
“Open it!” he shouted, voice cracking. “What’s happening—Eyan, why are you crying?!”
No answer.
Only muffled sobs on the other side.
__________________________________
(Funeral Hall)
The hall smelled of incense and death.
Luca sat stiffly, unmoving, his feet not even touching the floor.
He didn’t cry.
Eyan was curled in a corner, sobbing until his breath broke.
King Thalor Therald stood on the other side, shoulders shaking, his face buried in his hands.
The world felt unreal. Distant.
Luca stood. Slowly, he walked toward the king.
“Father,” he said. “I want to see Mother’s face too.”
His voice trembled. “Let me see her.”
King Thalor froze. Then he pulled Luca into his arms, crushing him against his chest.
“No,” Thalor cried. “You can’t—”
Luca struggled, fingers clawing at the king’s sleeve.
“Please,” he sobbed. “I didn’t get to say goodbye. I didn’t—”
Thalor held him tighter, shaking.
“You don’t need to see that,” he whispered, breaking. “You don’t need to remember her like that.”
Luca cried out, gripping Thalor’s arm like it was the only thing keeping him standing.
But the hall stayed silent.
The coffin stayed closed.
__________________________________
(Present Time — Early Morning)
Luca was still burning.
The fever clung to him like a curse, heat pressing beneath his skin, stealing the strength from his limbs.
“Why…” His voice came out hoarse. “Why am I being dragged through all my sad memories…?”
He tried to sit up.
Pain flared instantly—sharp, merciless.
His body gave out.
Luca fell back onto the bed, breath breaking. “…I can’t even move.”
Just then, the magic communicator beside him glowed faintly.
Luca stared at it through blurred vision. With trembling fingers, he activated it.
A familiar voice came through.
“…Sister-in-law,” Luca whispered.
He swallowed hard. “Why are you calling me through Eyan’s communicator?”
She spoke quickly, carefully—explaining everything.
Luca listened in silence, jaw clenched.
Then—
“You didn’t tell him about the mind-control spell, did you?” he asked.
,” Eva replied.
A faint smile tugged at Luca’s lips.
“…You did well,” he said quietly.
Suddenly—
“Kh—!”
Pain surged.
Luca clamped a hand over his mouth, his body shaking.
Eva’s voice sharpened with worry.
Luca forced himself to breathe.
Once.
Twice.
Then he let out a soft laugh—thin, practiced.
“No,” he said. “I’m fine, sister.”
There was a pause.
“Yes,” Luca replied gently. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Before she could protest, he ended the call.
The glow faded.
Silence returned.
Luca let his hand drop.
The strength drained from him all at once.
He closed his eyes, the fever burning on—
alone with the pain he refused to share.
__________________________________
(One Year After Queen Seris Valenne’s Death)
Luca stood before King Thalor Therald, his small back straight, hands clenched at his sides.
“Father,” Luca said softly. He was only eight. “I want to learn magic. Please… allow me to.”
King Thalor looked at him for a long moment, then smiled—a tired, sorrowful smile.
“Luca,” he said gently, “you are free to do whatever you wish, my son.” He paused. “But may I ask… why?”
Luca lowered his head, fists tightening.
“Yes,” he answered. “I want to become strong.”
He looked up, eyes steady despite his youth.
“I want to my family, Father.”
Something flickered in Thalor’s eyes—pain, pride, regret.
“…Very well, then,” the king said.
Luca bowed deeply and turned, leaving the throne room.
__________________________________
(Palace Hallway)
Eyan was returning from sword training, sweat clinging to his hair, a wooden blade still in his hand.
“Eyan!”
Luca ran toward him, smiling wide, and jumped into his arms.
Eyan staggered in surprise. “Luca—what’s wrong?”
“Father said I can learn magic!” Luca said brightly. “Just wait and watch, I’ll become as strong as you!”
Eyan smiled faintly. “Then do your best.”
He turned and began walking toward his chambers to bathe.
Luca watched him go, the smile slowly fading.
Luca clenched his hands.
The hallway swallowed his quiet vow.
__________________________________
Luca’s POV
It’s still fresh in my mind.
That cursed day—
when I lost my family .
Eyan, covered in blood.
Father, covered in blood— not moving.
I had sworn I would protect them.
I failed. Miserably.
A smile surfaced in my mind—too bright, too innocent.
Eyan (5 years old).
“…Liar.”
Eyan (27 years old)
“…Liar.”
You called me your family— and still hid everything from me.
I hate you.
I hate you so much.
I thought coming back in time meant I wouldn’t have to watch my family die again.
I was wrong.
I watched my sister-in-law die.
Again, I was powerless.
Why is it so hard… to keep everyone alive?
Why can’t we live—
just live—
happily?
A weak breath leaves me.
…But now that Eyan has told her the truth—
Everything will be fine.
It has to be.
Because I don’t think I can survive
losing them
one more time.
.
.
.
