Neze froze as if facing a ghost. He didn't feel fear—but cold sweat trickled down his skin. He couldn't name the emotion swirling inside him. His right arm trembled—not from himself, but from Neysie, who couldn't hide her fear of her own mother.
The woman took a step forward but stopped when she saw her daughter avoiding her gaze.
Neze stepped in front of Neysie, shielding her from the stranger—ironically, someone they knew all too well.
"You don't know your place, you filthy brat. I tolerated your presence only because my daughter adores you," the woman snapped, her words sharp as blades.
"But it seems you've only brought her harm. I think that's enough."
Neze stood frozen, his body rigid from head to toe. His mind raced—he had no right to separate a mother from her child. Yet he couldn't bear to hand over the sister he loved most. He was powerless.
"Brother Neze isn't bad!" Neysie broke the silence, defending him even as she hid behind his back.
"And he's not filthy! He's Father's son—and my brother!" she cried out, her voice shaking, eyes watering, grip tightening.
"Foolish child. You should be packing your things for tomorrow," the woman replied coldly.
Her voice wasn't loud—but her words cut deep. Anyone could tell she was furious.
Neze jolted from his chaotic thoughts at his stepmother's words. He looked at Neysie, desperate for an explanation.
'Where is Ney going? Why didn't she tell me?'
"I… I'm going to the academy… in the capital," Neysie answered softly.
Neze was stunned.
"Why—"
"That's enough talking. Tora, take her home."
"Yes, Lady Yera."
Yera cut Neze off before he could speak.
Neze clutched Neysie's hand tightly, trying to keep her from being taken by force.
"No need!" Neysie snapped.
"I… I'll go with Mother."
She released Neze's hand and walked slowly past the brother she adored.
"I'll wait for you in the capital," Neysie whispered to Neze before heading toward her mother, leaving him behind at the end of the day.
Neze's body remained stiff. He wanted to reach for her hand, to stop her from leaving—but he knew it wouldn't be right.
'Don't go… Why can't I do anything?'
He hated his own helplessness. He could only watch Neysie's back grow smaller until she climbed into the carriage with her mother.
The carriage rolled away, leaving Neze alone in the yard of his small home. Even after it vanished from sight, he didn't move or speak—but his mind was anything but quiet. Emotions churned within him.
Slowly, Neze walked toward the wooden door of his house. As he reached for it, he noticed something—it wasn't fully closed. He pushed the worn door open.
Creak…
The room was nothing like he remembered. The single chair lay shattered into splinters. The small wooden table was overturned, its legs broken. His few belongings were scattered across the hole-riddled floor.
His house had been ransacked.
His wooden sword lay on the ground.
"No… no!"
Adrenaline surged through Neze as he rushed inside. He hurried to the old cabinet beside his bed—only to find his piggy bank smashed, coins gone. The money he'd earned from odd jobs had vanished.
He sank to his knees, defeated. Then his eyes drifted under the bed. He crawled toward it.
'Please… not that!'
He lifted the loose floorboard.
His ragged breathing steadied.
His shoulders slumped in relief.
Inside the hollow space lay an iron sword, its blade scarred from use, and a pouch filled with enough coins to matter. The sword was a gift from his father upon retiring from knighthood. The pouch held savings meant for Neysie's birthday gift—now a gift he'd never give.
He grabbed the pouch and clutched it tightly. It was all he had left to survive on. His eyes, wet since Neysie left, finally spilled over.
Neze didn't know what to do. His little house held only silence and wreckage. Even his tears felt quiet.
Suddenly, the silence shattered.
A deep male voice came from the doorway.
"How unfortunate for you, kid."
Startled, Neze snatched the iron sword from the hiding spot and spun around, brandishing it. His hands shook violently.
"Who are you?!" he shouted.
In the fading sunset light, a silhouette stood framed in the doorway. As Neze's eyes adjusted, the figure became clear.
Before him stood a middle-aged man leaning against the doorframe. His long black hair covered part of his face, but the center revealed sharp, observant eyes. His arms were crossed over his chest. He wore rough cloth and leather armor—typical of a wanderer. His feet were crossed, and a longsword hung at his waist.
"Calm down, kid. I'm not your enemy."
The man tried to soothe Neze—but Neze, distrustful, kept his sword raised.
"How do I know you're not?" Neze's voice trembled, but his tone stayed firm.
The man raised both hands in surrender.
"If I were your enemy, you'd be dead already," he said lightly.
Neze hesitated—but didn't lower his weapon.
"You're Roland's bastard son, right? Nezerock, wasn't it?"
"Nezeroth," Neze corrected sharply, eyes narrowing.
"Ah… right. Nezeroth. My name's Giodarno Rethen. Call me Gio. I am your father's friend."
"My father's friend?"
"Indeed. We trained together at the Knight Academy."
"What are you doing here?" Neze's guard remained up.
"I respect your caution—but please lower your sword. Let's talk peacefully."
Gio lowered his hands and took a step forward—then stopped.
"Hold it! Tell me your purpose first!" Neze demanded, refusing to lower his blade.
Gio sighed deeply, scratching his unshaven chin.
"Stubborn kid… Roland sent me to check on you. Though it seems I've arrived at a rather… chaotic time," Gio said, slightly annoyed.
"Father… sent you?"
Neze slowly lowered his sword—but not his suspicion.
"What did he say?"
"He apologizes for not visiting. Says he's swamped with duties as Baron—and Count Sezane's making things difficult."
"I see," Neze murmured. He wasn't disappointed. He knew his father's position was precarious.
"Unfortunately, he didn't send you any allowance."
"It's fine. Just hearing about him is enough."
Gio scanned the ruined room, then met Neze's dark blue eyes. "So… what's your plan now? This place is a rat's nest. You've been robbed clean."
"I don't know," Neze whispered, staring at the floor, lost in thought.
'What should I do? Where do I go?'
"Hmm…" Gio stroked his bearded chin. "How about coming with me?"
Neze looked up. "Where to?"
Gio gave a faint smile.
"The royal capital."
"Altash?"
"Exactly."
Neze's heart pounded. That name sparked a flicker of hope within him.