Mom… yes, Yuki?""When I grow up, I'm gonna get so strong that even Ryden won't be able to touch you."She laughed softly. "Oh?""I'm serious, Mom. There's absolutely no limit. Because—just like the universe—I'll keep on expanding."
Yuki. Yuki!His eyes snapped open. "What?""You little piece of shit," Sylas snarled from the doorway."I'm… sorry, Sylas.""What a waste of space. You're lucky we even let you sleep down here in the basement. Dad says you have to come up for dinner."
He hesitated. "…Sylas—happy birthday."Sylas stopped, sneered. "Even hearing those words come from your mouth makes me want to puke."The door slammed so hard dust fell from the rafters.
Rage boiled in Yuki's chest, his breaths turning sharp, ragged. His hand clutched his pant leg. Where is it… where's Mom's necklace?Then—cold metal between his fingers. He gripped it tight, letting the familiar weight pull the heat from his anger. It's alright.
Heading up the narrow basement stairs, he smoothed his hair and pushed open the door."Good morning, Father," he said.Lord Kaelen Ardent gave him a brief glance and a curt nod.
"Good morning, Stepmother."Lady Serenya Ardent, her jeweled fan fluttering lazily, didn't bother to look at him.
"Happy morning, Brother," said Dorian with a thin smile."Morning," Yuki muttered back.
"Boy," Lady Serenya said without lowering her fan, "did you wish your brothers a happy birthday?""Sorry, Stepmother. Happy birthday, brothers."
From the side, Gretta stepped forward, her voice sharper than Serenya's but warmer somehow. "You do remember what today is, right?"Yuki frowned. "…Their birthday?""It's more than that," Gretta said. "It's the day the three of you attempt the Trials… to join the Aetherblades."
The word echoed in his head—Aetherblades. The order every child dreamed of, but only the strongest ever touched.
Later, Yuki stepped outside into the cold air. He tilted his head back, staring at the endless blue above. The wind brushed against him, and for a heartbeat, he was a boy again, holding his mother's hand.
The sky darkened in his mind, clouds thickening as the memory came—Her wrists bound. The platform. The crowd's jeers .Flames roared around her, and he screamed until his throat bled .Her eyes found his one last time through the fire—soft, sad, proud. Then the world became nothing but orange and heat and loss.
He blinked, breath catching. Another memory surfaced.
Gretta, years younger, sitting beside him on the stone steps."…Yuki," she said softly, "I know today is hard for you."He swallowed, looking away. "You don't have to say that."
"I do," she insisted. "You've never really left this house except to run errands for Father. You've never seen the capital. Never seen what's out there."
"Maybe I don't want to," Yuki muttered. She smirked faintly. "That's a lie. I see the way you look at the horizon. You want more than this place… you just don't think you'll be allowed to have it."
He stayed quiet, eyes on the ground. Gretta leaned closer. "The Trials… they're not just for Sylas and Dorian. You'll be there too. And maybe—just maybe—it's your chance to finally step outside these walls."
Yuki glanced at her, unsure if she was teasing or serious. "And if I fail?""Then you'll fail having at least tried. That's more than most people can say."
He let out a quiet breath, half a laugh. "You always make it sound so easy.""It's not easy," she said. "But I think you're stronger than you believe."
He looked at her then—really looked at her. For a moment, the noise of the house and the weight of his memories faded.
Gretta smiled softly. "Happy birthday, Yuki."