The training hall at the Roschild estate was like a shrine to hard work, a spot where people had been shaping their bodies and minds for ages. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, lighting up the dust motes that floated around in the still air.
The stone floor had seen it all, marked with faint burn spots from fire Gifts and deeper scars from all sorts of weapons. Tall practice dummies lined the walls, looking worn out from years of use. Racks of dark wood held an array of weapons, from simple wooden swords to shiny steel blades that glinted in the light, waiting for action. The air was thick with that familiar scent of hard work: the smell of old sweat mixed with polished wood and a hint of metal.
In the middle of it all, one guy was moving like a whirlwind. The whoosh of his wooden sword cutting through the air was the only sound, a frantic rhythm that seemed to shake up the quiet. This was Artur Lancaster, a member of a respected branch family of the Roschild clan. At almost fifteen, he looked every bit the noble hero, his body molded by years of intense training. His damp training gear clung to a strong, athletic frame. Sweat plastered his golden hair to his forehead, and his striking gold eyes usually sparkled with warmth, making him pretty popular. He was part of a trio of childhood friends along with Leo Roschild and Rina Ellis.
But the Artur training now was nothing like that polished image. This version of him was consumed by raw emotion. Gone was the gentle smile; instead, his face twisted in pain. Every swing of that wooden sword was driven by frustration, each movement heavier and sharper, fueled by a storm of feelings that threatened to tear him apart. The sword felt like an extension of his frustration, a tool against an unseen enemy that he could sense all around.
Finally, he lost it. A curse burst from his lips, startling in the silence of the hall.
"Shit! How could she? How could she reject me?" The words came out like a low growl, raw and desperate. He swung the sword down with the power of his anger, the impact buzzing up his arms. "How could she!"
His thoughts spiraled back to that morning when everything fell apart. He'd picked the perfect spot under the ancient cherry tree at the top of the estate's eastern hill, where the tree was in full bloom and pink petals drifted around them like soft snow. The sky had been a perfect blue. He'd practiced what he wanted to say for weeks, imagining her face lighting up with understanding and then joy. He had genuinely believed that Rina, the girl he'd loved since they were kids, would finally see him as more than just a friend.
But then came the sting of her rejection, sharp and cold, like a blade in his chest. He could replay it all in his mind: Rina standing there, beautiful with her cherry-blossom hair framing her determined face. Her pink eyes, usually warm, were steady as she said, "Sorry… it can never work out between us. You're just my friend."
Those words hit him like a ton of bricks. The world felt like it slowed down, the falling petals mocking his shattered hopes. He stood there, frozen, as a cold numbness spread through him. And then, just before she turned to leave, that dark thought he'd been trying to ignore finally broke free.
"Is it… because of Leo, isn't it?" he whispered, barely audible.
He had always thought it was just paranoia, a childish fear. He tried to ignore the way her eyes seemed to follow Leo, or how her laughter was a bit brighter when he was around. He buried those insecurities deep, convincing himself their trio was unbreakable, that he was imagining things.
But in that moment, her reaction confirmed his worst fear. Rina, who was usually so strong, suddenly faltered. She looked away from him, and he noticed the tips of her ears turning bright red, a clear sign.
When she finally spoke, her voice shook, breaking through any last bit of denial he had. "W-What nonsense are you spouting? This has nothing to do with him. I—I'm leaving."
She turned away quickly, practically running from a truth she couldn't bear to face.
"You're heading to him, aren't you?" Artur muttered, his head down, feeling a strange new emotion tugging at him.
Rina paused, her pink hair dancing in the breeze. When she looked back, her response wasn't defensive at all; it was just plain and cut straight to the heart. "Of course."
"I see…" Artur bit his lip hard enough that he could taste blood, fists tightening at his sides until his knuckles were pale. In that moment, everything inside him broke. The wall he'd built against envy and insecurity crumbled, and a rush of dark, consuming hatred took over. It was jealousy he'd never wanted to admit to, but now it was all-consuming.
He had always felt a twinge of resentment toward Leo. Growing up in a branch family meant living in the shadow of the main house. He was like the moon next to Leo's sun, always reflecting someone else's light. He was expected to be strong but never the strongest, talented but never the highlight. Watching Leo, the favored heir, get celebrated and praised while he had to struggle was a tough pill to swallow. The worst part? Leo had never acted like competition; he was more like a brother, dragging Artur into adventures, sharing secrets, laughing, and defending him. That genuine friendship felt like a trap, making Artur's resentment feel wrong, like he was betraying the one person who treated him as an equal.
But now, standing there beneath the cherry blossoms, all those buried feelings exploded. Years of feeling second-best, that gnawing inferiority, and the bitter truth that he'd always be seen as "the branch family boy" came crashing down into one burning desire for revenge against his oldest friend.
Fueled by those thoughts, he swung the wooden sword with a wild intensity, again and again, until blisters formed and broke on his hands, staining the hilt with a light pink. He pushed through the pain, welcoming it because it felt straightforward—unlike the complex mess in his heart. Each thwack of the blade felt like a punishment, a promise.
Dark thoughts crept in, twisting his face with ugly emotions. 'I'll make him pay… I'll take everything from him. His name, his place, her… everything. Then she'll cry for choosing him over me. I'll show them all at the Blessing Ceremony. I won't fade into the background—I'll shine brighter than anyone and destroy everything he holds dear. Just wait and see. They'll regret this.'
It was a vow that tasted bitter in his mouth. Beneath the relentless beat of his training, something dark was taking root in the wounds of his heart—a seed of pure resentment, fed by his humiliation and ignited by jealousy. He had no clue where this path might lead, but in that moment, it didn't matter. All he could feel was the storm raging inside him. Rina shouldn't have turned him down. Not after all the courage he had mustered. Not after loving her for so long. She was meant for him. How could she pick someone else? How could she pick Leo?
It was unforgivable. She had no right to do that. Absolutely none.