Valcrest Estate
March 10th
A vast stretch of land lay in northern Westoria, cordoned off for one family alone; the Valcrest. Their manor overlooked rolling fog-cloaked hills, surrounded by iron fences and patrol lights that cut through the mist. It was said they owned the north in everything but name, their reach embedded in factories, ports, and the veins of city trade. No document ever tied them to crime, yet everyone in Novara whispered of it. Their loyalty was sealed in blood, and no amount of interrogation could pry loose a single confession. The Valcrest did not bend. They consumed.
"Lady Lyra." The guard at the wrought-iron gate bowed stiffly, breath fogging in the chill air. "You wish to enter the sacred garden with a guest? I must identify them first."
Reid shifted behind her, shoulders hunched. Lyra let out a tired breath, brushing aside a loose strand of hair. "It's a need-to-know matter, Grum. I'm here to speak with my father about important business." Her tone turned flat. "And I told you, stop calling me that."
Grum paled, straightening like a scolded recruit. "A-apologies, Miss Lyra. No disrespect meant to the daughter of the clan head." He fumbled with the latch, then pushed the gate open with a metallic groan.
Lyra strode through without a glance back. Reid followed in silence.
"Geez," she muttered under her breath. "Embarrassing."
The garden beyond was a walled paradise, maintained with surgical precision. Paved stone paths wound through beds of color, violets, lilies, and ivory-white roses that shimmered faintly in the lantern light. Towering Glasspine trees stretched upward, their translucent leaves catching the glow and refracting it into soft hues of green and amber. The air smelled faintly of wet earth and perfume, a sweetness masking the rot beneath the estate's charm.
"I haven't been here in… fifteen years." Reid's voice wavered. His eyes darted over the flowers, the trimmed hedges, the familiar statues of ancestors staring in silent judgment. "I can't do this, Lyra. He doesn't want to see me. I know it."
Lyra turned, hands on her hips, the look of a commander facing a retreating soldier. "You've faced worse than him, Reid. Stand straight, look him in the eye. After all you've done, he has no right to refuse you." Her tone faltered for a moment, softer. "At least… I hope not."
Reid rubbed his palms together, fidgeting as if to wring the nerves out of his skin. "Something's twisting in my stomach. I don't like this."
She placed both hands on his shoulders and locked her gaze to his. "You're fine. Nervous, sure; but fine."
A metallic creak split the air from across the garden. The other gate opened. Reid stiffened, but Lyra lifted her chin, forcing composure.
Slow, deliberate footsteps echoed over the cobblestone. A tall man appeared beneath the archway, a figure carved from authority itself. Sebastian Valcrest. His hair, streaked with gray, was slicked back to perfection; his beard trimmed to symmetry. He moved with the restraint of someone who knew the world waited on his word.
"Lyra," he said evenly, eyes gliding past her to the man beside her. "You didn't mention you'd bring a guest."
"I believe you know who he is, Father." Lyra extended an arm toward Reid.
Reid swallowed hard, every muscle tense. "Father," he said, the word barely a whisper.
Sebastian froze for a breath. His expression shifted, shock, disbelief, then something colder. His brows lowered, eyes hardening into steel. "What is he doing in my garden?" His tone cracked like thunder. "I made it clear I wanted nothing to do with that failure of a son." He spoke past Reid, as though addressing a stain on the floor.
"Father!" Lyra's voice rose, breaking through the quiet air. Her jaw trembled, but her defiance burned hot.
"Guards!" Sebastian's command snapped through the garden. "Remove him from my sight. Now."
The armored men stationed at the corners began to move, hands gripping their rifles, mana humming faintly through their cuffs. Reid didn't resist. He simply looked down, his lips parting in a defeated sigh. "It's alright, Lyra. I'll go."
Something in her cracked. Reid, the loudest, most untamable spirit she'd known, was accepting humiliation like a criminal. Her throat tightened.
"Stop! Leave him alone!" Lyra's voice shook with fury. She stepped forward, eyes blazing at her father. "He fought for this country while you hid behind your money. You exile him because his mana control isn't perfect? That's pathetic."
Sebastian's mouth opened, ready to crush her words, but she didn't let him.
"He deserves your respect. He's a hero, just like me." Her voice trembled but held. "In fact," she turned to Reid, "he's stronger than I am."
Sebastian inhaled slowly, his lip twitching in irritation. "He contributed little to your victories. A true hero is SosukeEstrella. Your twin has done nothing but ride the coattails of greater men." His gaze cut through Reid. "Do not degrade your own name by defending a half-wit who sullies it."
——
A part of me wanted to think he'd actually accept me. Guess I was stupid for that.
I used to sneak out here when I was a kid. Past the trees, up the small cliff that overlooked the coast. It made me feel like some kind of rebel. Far enough from the estate to feel free, close enough that I could still run home if I got scared. From here, the ocean looked endless. The light bounced off the water like shards of glass.
"God, I missed this view," I muttered, resting my arms on my knees.
"Reid, are you okay?" Lyra's voice snapped me out of it. She only asked when she was really worried.
"Yeah, I am," I said, though my voice didn't sound too convincing. That reaction from him wasn't a surprise. I knew walking back into his life was a mistake. Lyra was just too hopeful, and I didn't have the heart to crush that.
She sat beside me, quiet for once. Maybe she knew I didn't want to talk about it anymore. I appreciated that. I needed the silence.
As much as I like acting like the confident, happy guy everyone knows, it didn't start that way. It was just a mask at first. Something I put on so people would like being around me. Over time, the act stuck. I guess I became what I pretended to be.
I stood and walked to the cliff's edge. The drop wasn't far, just steep enough to make you think twice. "What the hell," I muttered, grinning as I leaned forward. Then I jumped.
The ground rushed up and I rolled all the way down the hill. Dirt and grass filled my clothes while Lyra screamed after me. I hit the bottom laughing like an idiot, staring up at the sky.
"Are you insane? Or just suicidal?" she yelled, running down after me. Her boots kicked up sand. She looked ready to smack me.
I couldn't stop laughing. "Relax, I'm fine. You worry too much."
"You rolled off a cliff!"
"Barely a cliff," I said, sitting up and brushing dirt from my hair. "You're too serious, like the female version of Arthur. Try chilling once in a while."
"Hey, I do chill!" she snapped, folding her arms.
I grinned. She never fooled me. She cared too much to really let go. She and Mom were the only ones who ever made this place feel like home. I don't know how I got through those years without her.
I stood and wandered toward the water, unbuttoning my shirt so the wind could get through. The sea breeze was sharp and clean. I slipped off my shoes and let the waves wash over my legs.
"You're seriously not okay today," she said behind me, sounding half amused, half concerned.
"Maybe you're just not crazy enough," I called back, spreading my arms wide as the wind whipped past. "This is probably the last time I'm allowed near this place, might as well enjoy it."
"I guess so." She joined me, laughing a little as she stepped into the surf. "It's freezing—"
Before she could finish, I scooped water into my hands and threw it in her face.
Her gasp was priceless.
"I thought it'd help," I said with a grin.
She charged at me and splashed water right in my eyes. I stumbled back, losing balance, and fell into the sea with a loud splash.
The cold hit hard, and for a moment, it felt like I was falling through something endless. That same emptiness I used to feel before everything changed. But this time, it didn't hurt. I already had what I wanted. Real friends. A family I chose, not one I was born into.
If I wasn't soaking wet, I probably would've cried.