The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the silent room. Seated across from Meliodas and Zeldris, Zéphyr took a deep breath. His gaze seemed to pierce through time itself.
"It all began long before the First Holy War. Before divine spears were raised... before the world was split by fire and hatred."
He paused, then continued, his voice calm but laced with pain.
"I was very young… barely three or four years old. But I remember. I never grew up with you. While you were raised as princes, proud heirs to the Demon King… I was 'the unwanted child.' The one they never meant to keep."
Meliodas frowned. Zeldris lowered his gaze.
"The demons despised me. Some… even tried to kill me. They called me a bastard. An illegitimate son."
He clenched his fists.
"But I held on. Because of her… our mother."
Meliodas and Zeldris flinched, stunned.
"You knew our mother?!" they exclaimed.
Zéphyr studied them, surprised.
"Judging by your reactions… you've never seen her."
A heavy silence fell over the room.
"No," Zeldris admitted. "To be honest… Meliodas and I never met her."
Zéphyr closed his eyes briefly, sorrow softening his expression.
"I see. Then… he must have erased her too. Not just me… but also our mother, from the clan's memory… and from yours."
Meliodas grimaced.
"But why? Why would he do that to us?"
Zéphyr looked him in the eye.
"Because she saved me."
The tension in the room thickened. Zeldris slowly lifted his head.
"Go on."
"One day, an old demon came to the palace. He prophesied that the Demon King's third son… would bring about his downfall."
Zéphyr's voice grew darker.
"And as always… our father tried to destroy what threatened him."
Meliodas remained still. Zéphyr continued.
"He sent his servants to eliminate me. But Mother had heard the prophecy… and she took me far away, beyond the Demon Realm, even beyond Britannia."
"When he failed… he decided to erase me. To wipe out every memory of my existence."
He slowly stood, placing a hand on the table.
"After Mother saved me, she returned. She wanted to free you both from his grip. But… I never saw her again."
A painful silence settled between them.
"Three thousand years passed. I wandered from continent to continent. I did things… things I'm not proud of. I was angry, lost, homeless."
Then a sincere smile lit his face.
"Until the day I met someone. A light in my darkness."
Meliodas smiled faintly.
"Your wife?"
Zéphyr nodded.
"Miranda. She gave me a second chance. A reason to believe in something other than vengeance."
He turned to them, his gaze honest and unwavering.
"I'm sorry for earlier. When I attacked you… I thought you were demons sent by our father. I never imagined it was you… my brothers."
He glanced toward the window. The sky was dark.
"It's getting late. That's enough for tonight. You can sleep in the guest room downstairs."
He took a step toward the hall, then added softly:
"Good night."
And he left the room, leaving them in silence.
Meliodas and Zeldris remained seated, frozen.
They had just learned that their forgotten brother… had truly existed.
And that he had suffered just to survive