Dear Mom, Dad, and Lia,
I don't even know why I'm writing this. You're not here to read it, and maybe that's why I'm doing it—because if you were, I'd never have to write it at all.
The house is so quiet now. Sometimes, I sit in the living room and just listen, hoping to hear your footsteps in the hall or the sound of the kettle in the kitchen.
But it's just silence. This place used to be filled with life, with you. Now, it feels like a tomb, and I'm trapped inside.
I keep expecting you to come back, to walk through the door and tell me it was all a mistake, that you're not really gone. But you never do. And I'm starting to realize you never will.
I've tried to keep it together, to stay strong like you'd want me to, but I'm failing. Every day is a struggle just to get out of bed.
I feel so empty, like I'm just going through the motions, pretending to live a life that doesn't mean anything anymore.
The only thing that might have helped me was getting revenge, but can you believe it? All he got was ten years in prison.
Ten years for taking you all from me. And all because he pretended to feel guilty, like that could ever be enough. It's like the world's playing a cruel joke, and I'm the punchline.
I thought I'd feel something—anything—when I saw him in that courtroom, but all I felt was the same emptiness that's been gnawing at me since you left.
Even my anger feels hollow now. I couldn't even hold onto that. It just slipped through my fingers like everything else.
I keep thinking about all the things I didn't say, all the times I should have hugged you longer, listened more, told you how much you meant to me.
It's too late now. I missed my chance, and I can't forgive myself for that. Neither could you, right, Mom?
I understand why you looked at me like that in your last moment in the hospital.
If only I had told you the truth… If only I hadn't tried to hide it, maybe we wouldn't have fought.
Maybe you wouldn't have hated me in the end. Maybe you'd still be here. But I didn't, and now it's too late.
I can see that so clearly now, but what good does it do? The guilt is eating me alive, and I don't know how to live with it.
I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.
Everyone keeps saying it'll get better, that time heals. But I don't believe them. How could it? How could anything ever be okay again when you're gone?
The pain is so deep, so constant. It's heavy fog that I can't see through, can't breathe in. I'm so tired, but I'm afraid to sleep because that's when the dreams come—dreams where you're still here, where everything is okay.
And then I wake up, and it hits me all over again that you're gone. The reality is worse than any nightmare.
But I can't end it. Ending it would be the easy way out, and I don't deserve that. I think about it, sometimes—more than I want to admit—but I know it would be running away.
And I don't deserve that kind of peace.
Perhaps this is my punishment.
I don't know what to do. I don't know how to move forward when all I want is to go back, to have you here with me.
I miss you so much that sometimes I think my heart might actually break from it. But it doesn't. It just keeps hurting, day after day.
I don't know how to end this letter because I don't want to end it. Ending it feels like another goodbye, and I'm not ready for that. I'll never be ready for that.
I miss you. I miss you so much it's killing me.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything.
"Big brother, big sis, are you both ready for the academy?"
The question came from a young girl, no older than ten, with long blonde hair cascading down her back and bright blue eyes as clear as the sky.
"Yuna? Oh, yeah, we are. Honestly, I do feel a little nervous about the entrance exam, though." the boy responded, his own blonde hair and blue eyes mirroring Yuna's as he sat on the couch.
A soft chuckle came from beside him.
"You don't need to be nervous, Lumine. I doubt anyone would reject a Grade 3 Intermediate at the age of 16. You'll probably rank first, you know?"
Yelena Heart, his childhood friend, teased him with a smile.
Her obsidian black hair and emerald green eyes sparkled with mischief.
Lumine Versille smiled back at her, feeling a bit more reassured.
"I guess you're right."
Yelena returned his smile.
"Jeez... How are both of you not like Mom and Dad already..."
Yuna whispered to herself, her voice too quiet for them to hear.
"Oh, by the way, where are Mom and Dad, Yuna?"
Lumine asked, looking around.
Yuna pointed toward the kitchen.
"They're going all out since the two of you are leaving. They even invited Auntie and Uncle, big sis."
"Eh? Mom and Dad are coming too?"
Yelena asked, surprised.
Yuna nodded, and Yelena's expression softened.
'Looks like we're getting a full-on farewell party...'
Lumine's heart warmed at the thought.
The fact that his father was helping his mother instead of being buried in work brought a smile to his face.
Their father, a small guild master, was often overwhelmed with responsibilities.
Lumine knew that starting or joining a guild was always an option if he wanted to become independent in the future, rather than affiliating with one of the Four Great Clans or working for the government to become a hero.
But he also understood that even being in a guild, or leading one, didn't mean complete independence.
There were countless rules to follow, including the necessity of establishing a guild headquarters in one of the sacred capitals if the guild master was at least a master.
Approval from the Great Clan that ruled the sacred capital was required, and any significant mission needed their endorsement.
True independence for a hero was almost impossible.
"The internet has been going crazy for the past week with rumors about Azriel Crimson, the prince of the Great Crimson Clan."
A news reporter's voice on the TV drew their attention away from the conversation.
Lumine thought, recalling how the prince had disappeared for the past two years, leading many to believe he had either died or been exiled from the Crimson Clan.
"Reportedly, Prince Azriel Crimson suddenly appeared at the Christmas Banquet hosted by the Crimson Clan this year. He challenged the Nebula Prince, Caleus Nebula, and defeated him overwhelmingly. The former rank two of the first years... Prince Azriel also confirmed at the banquet that he will be attending the Hero Academy.
It is said that Prince Azriel spent the last two years surviving in the Void Realm, far beyond the conquered territories, defeating void creatures unimaginable to most, all on his own..."
The reporter's voice continued, the rumors swirling around Azriel seeming almost too incredible to believe.
"Those must be fake. Surviving the Void Realm alone is absurd, even for a prince. Besides, isn't Prince Caleus a Grade 2 Intermediate? He's even stronger than you, no?"
Yelena said, skepticism evident in her voice, while Yuna, too young to grasp the full meaning, simply listened quietly.
Lumine, however, shook his head.
"Defeating someone of a higher rank isn't impossible. It depends on skill. For example, if Prince Caleus is known for his overwhelming strength and flexibility... I don't know much about Prince Azriel, but if he's faster or has better physical strength than Prince Caleus, then it's possible to defeat someone from a higher grade."
'But that would mean Azriel Crimson is either as strong as me, or stronger than Prince Caleus, if the rumors are true.'
Lumine thought, a wry smile tugging at his lips.
'If the rumors are true, though... getting first place might not be as easy as I thought.'
The nervousness began to creep back in as he considered the quest assigned by the system.
He didn't want to disappoint anyone, and securing first place at the academy would help his father's guild significantly.
"We have an official picture of Azriel Crimson, looking out from a balcony..."
The reporter continued, but when the image flashed on the screen, it was blurry, making it impossible to see Azriel's face clearly.
Yuna's eyes sparkled with excitement.
"He looks extremely handsome!"
"You can't even see him properly!"
Lumine retorted, exasperated, while Yelena stifled a laugh.
"Haa... seriously, you're too young."
Lumine sighed, his earlier nervousness about the academy now redirected toward his little sister.