It was a bright, sunny morning — a few days after Ether had returned to the guest mansion.
But there was no light left in him.
Once a boy who shone like a small sun, Ether had become as pale and silent as a dull, distant moon. He stayed in his room for hours, staring blankly out the window or sitting with his knees drawn to his chest. He hadn't spoken a single word since the ceremony.
Hera was growing sick with worry. She brought meals herself, tried coaxing him gently back into conversation, tried speaking of pleasant things — but he merely nodded or sat in silence, eyes empty.
His little sister, Elisha, had tried many times to tug on his sleeves and ask what was wrong. Each time, Hera would gently pull her away, distracting her with sweets, stories, and colorful candies to keep her from seeing how broken her brother had become.
Ether couldn't bear it.
He could not even bring himself to look directly at Elisha — the sister he once scooped into his arms and cuddled the moment he saw her, laughing with pure joy. Now, shame dug its claws into his chest every time she walked near.
He believed he had become a burden.
The "liability" of the family.
A stain on their name.
And in that room filled with sunlight… he began to crumble quietly from the inside out.
On this particular morning, Duke Yohan was scheduled to return from the capital to the Duchy of Sephera. As the carriage pulled up before the manor steps and Yohan stepped down, the household staff lined up neatly to greet him. Lady Hera was there as well, along with little Elisha — but notably, Ether was nowhere in sight.
Before anyone could question it, another figure emerged from the carriage behind the duke.
He was a young man with striking long blue hair, a sharp chin, and keen, hawk-like eyes — clearly not a servant, yet unfamiliar to most of the estate.
The servants bowed low. Lady Hera offered a graceful curtsey and welcomed her husband back. Yohan said little as always, but when Elisha ran up to him, he paused — gently tapping her on the head by way of praise, a rare hint of tenderness crossing his stern face.
Then, he turned to Hera."Come with me. To the chamber," he said quietly. "Excuse the rest."
Understanding from his tone that something was serious, Lady Hera nodded once and dismissed the servants with a wave of her hand.
The mysterious blue–haired man remained silently behind Yohan as they headed into the manor, drawing curious glances from every corner of the staff.
Once inside the chamber, Yohan sat quietly on the sofa and waited until Hera closed the doors behind them. Only then did he speak.
He explained everything — from his request to the emperor, to the late-night meeting with Zen of the Fallen in the gardens. His voice was level as always, yet Hera could hear the strain beneath it.
"I've brought someone to help Ether," Yohan said at last. "A personal instructor. He will teach him swordsmanship… and the basics of mechanics — things he can grow into even without magic."
Hera's eyes widened slightly in surprise. Yohan was not a man who trusted easily — and the idea that he had personally gone out of his way to hire a teacher just for Ether told her everything she needed to know.
She studied her husband for a long moment.
Yohan didn't show it on his face.
But he was worried. Truly, deeply worried about their son.
Then came the most difficult task of all — convincing Ether.
After finishing his explanation to Hera, Yohan rose from the sofa and headed back toward the entrance hall where the blue-haired man still waited silently.
"Eyrus, follow me," Yohan said.
The instructor gave a small nod and fell into step behind him without a word. His boots clicked against the polished marble floors as the two made their way down the corridor toward the wing where Ether had been keeping himself isolated.
Yohan's expression was calm… yet his heart beat heavier with each step.This would not be easy.
But for Ether's sake, he would try — even if it meant stepping into unfamiliar territory:
that of a father... not a duke.
When they reached the door to Ether's room, Eyrus paused.
"Duke Yohan," he said quietly, "it may be better if you step back for now."
Yohan hesitated for a moment… then gave a silent nod and retreated a few paces down the hallway.
Eyrus entered alone.
Through the crack of the doorway, Yohan watched as the instructor looked at Ether — truly looked at him — taking in the hollow eyes, the bent posture, the quiet grief swallowing his son whole.
After a short moment, Eyrus stepped back into the hall and approached the duke once more. There was something in his expression — a shadow of understanding, a glimmer of familiarity, as though he recognized that pain all too well.
"I may need to be a little rough with him," Eyrus said softly.
Yohan understood exactly what that meant. Ether was trapped — clinging to despair, refusing to accept reality — and if they didn't break through soon…
That's when a sudden flash crossed Yohan's mind — a memory of Sara's eyes during the ceremony. Eyes filled not with anger, nor pride… but with a profound emptiness. The look of someone who had already lost everything.
Yohan's chest tightened.
He would not allow Ether to fall into that same abyss. He would push him forward, however painfully, so that his son might learn to stand again — not as a noble, not as a mage… but as himself.
He met Eyrus's gaze and gave a single, resolute nod.
"Do what you must," he said.
Yohan turned and walked away, leaving the corridor behind him. Eyrus watched his retreating back for a long moment.
That man…
Unfazed by countless wars.Renowned as the greatest genius mage of his generation.Feared by the Tainted.A man who never bowed… never trembled…
And yet today — he shook before the despair of his own son.
Something tightened in Eyrus's chest as he turned back toward Ether's door. He understood. He had once worn that same broken expression himself, after his homeland was ravaged by the Tainted. But the thing was that Ether was only nine years old . For a kid, having the same look was sad. He had known that emptiness — that feeling of being lost — and he also knew what it meant to kill ur own dreams and build new ones.
And so, when he first saw Ether upon arriving in Sephera, one thought had taken root in his heart:
I will become to this boy… what Lord Zen once was to me.