Two years after the disappearance of Lord Belvedere, drops of sweat poured down Raphael's face as he smacked the training dummy relentlessly.
His pale face was red with anger as he simulated decapitating the armor-clad doll before him.
This is unbearable… Ordering me outside like a dog when my own father and brother return for the first time in thirteen years…
Swinging his arm down, sword in hand, he felt the wood shatter into pieces across the solid surface, blasting splinters at his face.
Dammit—
He barely had time to react to the shards before a strong gust of wind slammed into him, knocking him to the side.
Raphael's leg twisted on the way down, forcing him to fall on his face, smacking his nose perfectly on the stone.
Tears welled in his eyes against his will as the pain seared through his face that only reddened further in rage.
Hearing a quiet snickering behind him, the boy whipped around, summoning his staff into his hand.
Preparing to cast a non-lethal spell at the person behind him, he felt an intense pressure well up in his throat, blocking his voice.
Not only did it prevent him from uttering the chant for the spell, but it also halted his lungs, effectively suffocating him.
Falling to the ground in shock, he felt his airways open up once again, allowing him to suck in as much air as his lungs could take.
Raising his head in pain, he looked at the person who had nearly broken his nose and choked him with the power of wind magic.
I swear on the Steinfeste name that whoever—
The words he had meant to speak never came out of his mouth as he lay there, face to face with himself.
Both had long white hair that was carefully maintained with the best products on the market, while eyes the color of gold gazed into each other.
Raphael's breath caught on the realization of who was standing before him; however, he felt a rush of dizziness overcome him.
Nearly collapsing again, the boy could barely gaze up at his identical twin, watching him sneer.
"Why does something so weak have my face? Are you a defective product?"
Winding back his leg, the standing boy slammed his pointed shoes into Raphael's side, knocking him over.
Blood seeped from a wound hidden by clothes, with the dizzy boy barely able to react as another strike smashed into his stomach.
The other figure had placed his foot atop the boy, stomping downward repeatedly until blood dripped from Raphael's mouth.
"Pathetic. You aren't even worthy of the Steinfeste name, much less the honor of being my twin. Father should've sold you to the merchants of Svall like grandfather suggested."
Stepping backwards, the older boy spat downward on the beaten and bloody child whose eyes were trembling in fear.
The sound of retreating footsteps echoed through the crippled boy's ears as he lay there, without a thought coursing through his mind.
…
Later that evening, after being treated by the family healer and prepped by the butlers brought alongside the patriarch's entourage, Raphael stood in front of a large doorway, hesitating.
I-I can't go in… N-No…
His body trembled as he forced himself not to run away from the people sitting behind the opulent door.
The maid who had brought him here had left in a hurry, obviously not wanting to come face to face with the head of the family himself.
D-Dinner is too much… After what happened earlier…
He shook again, remembering the taste of iron seeping down his throat as his bones broke and bent.
Falling deep in thought, he almost missed the explosive roar of an infuriated man yelling through the doorway.
"ENTER!"
Raphael's entire body froze as his instincts forced him forward, pushing against the massive entryway with all his strength.
The first thing that entered his view as he opened to door was a mahogany-carved banquet table that stretched for fifty meters down the brilliantly decorated hall.
Silver lanterns hung down from the highest arches of the chamber, brightening the room and illuminating the faces of the four people who already sat at the table.
At the head of the table sat a large man with gray and black hair, whose clothing was adorned with gold, diamonds, and sapphires, reflecting his wealth.
Raphael's own father, Phantos von Steinfeste, the patriarch of the family and the most powerful noble in the eleven remaining territories, scowled at his son, who entered quietly.
On one side of the man sat his mother, Maria Steinfeste, whose expression was neutral, yet to Raphael, who knew her better than anyone, it was clear that anger lay beneath the surface.
Across from her sat the boy who had stomped him into the ground, nearly broken his nose, and mocked him.
Alaric von Steinfeste, his identical twin brother who looked at him with such disgust that Raphael wondered if he saw him as a cockroach.
Finally, the only person from the group he had only known by name and had never actually met was his brother's wife-to-be, who had been arranged to marry him since birth.
Griselda Brevmore, a person who, in some regard, even shared a blood connection with the other members of the table.
Such a choice was meant to bring the two separated families back together after a nearly one-hundred-year divide; however, the strangeness of the familial engagement left a poor taste in the water.
Her appearance to Raphael could only be described in one simple word that even his own mother had once used to describe the girl.
Ugly.
Her hair was matted with gaping patches that simply lacked any follicles, while her face was deformed in such a way that each of her eyes rested like a deer's.
One of her legs was permanently bent in a direction that no human should be capable of, while her nailbeds were green and black with filth.
Normally, the white-haired boy would refrain from any degrading comments as his mother had instructed.
However, this was a rule he was flexible with, and with what he had learned from newspapers, her personality was worse than her looks.
Scandal after scandal kept emerging in the papers about her escapades in Svall, Sea Fallen, and even the Holy Capital.
Some framed her as a mass slave owner, buying only child slaves that she deemed 'perfect' while forcing them until death.
Another article spoke of her psychopathic tendencies to enter bars, start fights, and wound normal salarymen.
The legal consequences were waived, of course, with the Brevmore and Steinfeste family backing her every move.
In all regards, she was a vile girl who somehow surpassed even his violent twin brother for the person he wanted to see the least.
So as he glanced over at her horrid face, he watched as she moved her lips, curved in a smirk, slipping him a mix of profanities that he caught through lip reading.
Inbred monster…
The thought nearly slipped out into real words; however, he caught himself, realizing he would very likely be beaten to death if he spoke them.
Making his way over to the seat next to his mother, he sat down carefully, refusing to make eye contact with anyone but his plate.
There was a murmur between Griselda and Alaric; however, the first person to address the table was his own father.
"Now that all four of us have arrived, I must applaud the one whom we all should be celebrating tonight."
Ignoring Raphael's presence completely, he smiled widely, tipping his glass towards Alaric, who reflected his father's grin with one of his own.
"Thank you, Father, for your kind words, but I must admit I'm barely even worthy of such praise. You are truly the one deserving of the honor that befalls me on my birthday."
The two men bantered off each other, complimenting the other to no end, causing Raphael to scoff aloud.
Silence engulfed the table as all eyes turned to him, his mother paling and clenching the tablecloth gently.
An immense presence immediately descended over the room as his father stared daggers into his soul.
"Raphael von Steinfeste. Failure of the family. Disgrace to the bloodline. And the son I wish I never had. Is there something you would like to say?"
Raging hot anger oozed out of every word the man spoke, digging into the white-haired boy's mind like spears.
"N-No—"
He was cut off by his brother, who sighed, opening his mouth and beginning to speak loudly.
"Forgive him, Father. This weasel is too weak to even lift his fork, and you expect him not to cough occasionally? His lungs must be sore from the exercises I helped him through earlier."
Smirking while twirling his fingers around his knife in a way mimicking a murder scene, he waited for the patriarch to speak again.
"Very well, Alaric. I hope your educational session with this impudent and disrespectful mollusk was profound for you as well. I wouldn't want anything insignificant to get in the way of your birthday."
Griselda snickered at the face Raphael made, mocking the anger that burned the boy as his thoughts were consumed with only one thing.
I will kill them all.