Chapter 1: Beyond My Imagination (Part 3)
The Kaizah household was vast—so vast that a stranger could lose themselves wandering the courtyards and corridors for days. To me, it felt less like a home and more like a battlefield carved into marble and silk.
My siblings sparred on sunlit terraces, their shouts echoing like thunderclaps. The clash of weapons rang from dawn until dusk, punctuated by bursts of aura that shook the air itself. They were brilliant, fierce, each one certain of their strength and their right to inherit Father's legacy.
And then there was me.
The porcelain daughter, shadowed by guards, whispered about in hallways.
Sometimes, I thought the silence hurt more than the words. The way their gazes slid past me as though I were invisible, or worse—unworthy of notice. But silence never lasted long.
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One afternoon, I found myself passing through the inner courtyard, where several of Father's children trained under the watchful eye of their mothers. The air shimmered with heat as two of my older brothers exchanged blows, their swords sparking with energy. The younger ones cheered, laughing, their eyes bright with pride.
I had hoped to cross unnoticed.
But Dinah's voice cut across the courtyard like a whip.
"Well, if it isn't little Lailac."
My steps faltered. Heads turned. My brothers slowed their sparring, smirks tugging at their lips.
"She's still alive?" one of my sisters murmured, her tone dripping with mock sweetness. "I thought perhaps her latest attempt would finally finish her."
Laughter rippled around them.
I forced myself to keep walking, my face a careful mask, though inside my stomach knotted. Ignore them. Just keep moving.
But Dinah was not finished. She never was.
"Tell me, dear," she called, her eyes sharp as blades, "do you still waste your father's treasures? How many beast cores have you devoured to nothing this month? Ten? Twenty? Perhaps we should start tallying them like debts."
My cheeks burned. My fists clenched at my sides, nails digging crescents into my palms.
One of my brothers stepped forward, sweat gleaming on his brow, his aura still humming from training. "Careful, Mother. If we speak too harshly, perhaps little Lailac will awaken her bloodline and drain us all dry." He widened his eyes in mock terror, clutching his chest. "Oh no, my vitality!"
More laughter. Cruel. Sharp. Each sound a blade slicing deeper.
I wanted to scream. To unleash the flame inside me and watch their mocking smiles melt away. But there was no flame—only emptiness. Only the void that devoured everything I touched.
So I bowed my head. My voice trembled, but I forced it steady. "Excuse me."
And I walked on.
Every step felt heavier, as though the weight of their laughter clung to my shoulders. My vision blurred, not with tears—never in front of them—but with the haze of shame.
---
Later, in the quiet of Father's quarters, I sat by the window, hugging my knees to my chest. The memory of their voices replayed endlessly, each echo carving itself deeper into me.
Useless.
Parasite.
A drain.
Was that all I would ever be?
The door opened. Father entered, his presence filling the room like a storm. He stopped when he saw me, his expression softening.
"Lailac," he said. Just my name, but it carried a weight that steadied the storm inside me.
I lifted my head, trying to smile, but the effort cracked and fell apart. "They hate me," I whispered. "All of them. They think I'll ruin everything."
Father crossed the room and knelt before me, his large hands resting gently on my shoulders. His eyes were fierce, unyielding. "Listen to me. You are my daughter. Their hatred is born of fear, nothing more."
"Fear?" I echoed, confused.
"Yes." His gaze held mine, unshaken. "Because they see how much I value you. They see that even in your weakness, you stand taller than they do. They fear the strength they cannot understand. And one day, when your bloodline awakens, they will kneel before the fire you carry."
I wanted so badly to believe him. His conviction burned brighter than the sun, enough to almost blind me to the shadows clawing inside. But still… doubt lingered.
"What if it never awakens?" My voice cracked. "What if I'm always… like this?"
For the first time, his expression faltered. A flicker of pain crossed his face, gone in an instant, but I saw it. He was afraid too.
But then he straightened, his voice steady, resolute. "Then I will carry you as long as it takes. Until the day comes, or until my last breath. That is my vow, Lailac."
Tears blurred my vision. This time, I let them fall, silent streaks down my cheeks. Not because I was weak, but because his words pierced deeper than cruelty ever could.
I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face against his chest. His embrace was strong, steady, the kind that promised the world could not touch me so long as he stood.
For a moment, I allowed myself to believe it. To believe I was not useless. To believe the flame inside me was not a curse, but a promise.
---
That night, as I lay awake beneath the weight of silence, I whispered to myself:
"I will not give up. Even if they hate me. Even if the world itself rejects me. One day, I'll prove them wrong."
The ember inside me flickered, faint but unyielding.
And that ember, I swore, would one day blaze beyond imagination.
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