The sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows across the sprawling estate of Duke Marcelo. In the dim light of the stables, young Elian was seen working tirelessly.
His hands calloused from the endless chores assigned to him. He was no more than seventeen years, though his worn and tired expression made him appear much older. His green eyes, inherited from a mother he had never known, were dulled by fatigue and sorrow.
He was crouched over, scrubbing the floor of the stables, with its strong scent of hay and manure, that had become his sanctuary of sorts. It was here, away from the prying eyes of the manor's residents, that he found a semblance of peace, though it was a fragile one and can easily be shattered at any moment.
Look who's playing in the dirt again," Vecto sneered, his voice laced with malice. He was tall for his age, with the same aristocratic features as his father, but his eyes were cold and calculating, always searching for a way to hurt others. Today, his gaze was locked onto Elian like a predator sizing up its prey.
Elian didn't need to look up to know that Vecto was wearing that smug look on his face, the one that always preceded trouble.
"Cleaning up after the horses again, bastard?" Vecto continued, stepping closer. "Seems fitting. After all, you're nothing more than the filth they leave behind."
Elian remained silent, keeping his eyes on the floor, willing himself to remain calm. He knew better than to talk back. It never ended well when he did. He prayed that his silence, might make him lose interest. But Vecto had never been one to let things slide.
"Hey, bastard, I'm talking to you!" Vecto snapped, striding forward and kicking the bucket Elian had been using. It clattered to the ground, water splashing everywhere, soaking Elian's pants. "Answer me when I speak to you, bastard!"
Elian flinched but remained silent, his hands trembling as he tried to focus on the task at hand. He knew that any reaction would only fuel Vecto's cruelty.
Vecto leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "What's the matter, Elian? Did the cat get your tongue? Or are you too stupid to answer?"
Elian clenched his teeth, forcing himself to stay calm. He couldn't afford to let Vecto get under his skin, not when he was so vulnerable.
But Vecto was far from satisfied. He grabbed a fistful of Elian's hair, yanking his head back so their eyes met. Vecto's dark eyes were filled with a sadistic pleasure, feeding off Elian's fear and helplessness.
"Look at you," Vecto sneered. "You think you're so special with those pretty eyes of yours? As if being a bastard gives you any right to look like that. You're nothing, Elian. Just a stain in this house, and one day, I'll make sure you're wiped out for good."
Elian bit his lip, refusing to let the tears well up in his eyes. He had learned long ago that tears only made things worse. Vecto pushed him away with a disgusted huff, causing Elian to stumble back and fall into the dirty straw. Vecto laughed, the sound harsh and echoing in the stable.
"Pathetic," Vecto spat. "Why don't you just run away? No one here would miss you. You're not even worth the dirt on my boots."
With one last kick aimed at Elian's side, Vecto turned and left, his laughter still ringing in Elian's ears long after he had gone.
For a long moment, Elian stayed on the ground, his body trembling from the pain and the humiliation. His hand instinctively moved to his wrist, where the frayed rope held the half-heart pendant. The pendant was all that remained of something precious, something he couldn't quite understand but felt deeply in his bones. It was his only connection to the mother he had never known, the mother Mira had finally told him about.
Mira, the woman Elian had always believed to be his mother, had hesitated when he first asked her about why the Duke's family despised him so much. But Elian had been persistent, the curiosity and confusion gnawing at him until she had no choice but to tell him the truth.
"Your birth mother, Elian, was not me," Mira had said, her voice heavy with reluctance. "She was Ireen, the Duke's mistress. She passed away when you were born."
Elian had stared at her, the words not quite sinking in at first. It was as if the world had shifted beneath his feet, leaving him more lost and adrift than ever before. "What? That can't be true… I'm just a servant…"
Mira shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. "No, Elian. You're the Duke's son."
Elian's world seemed to collapse in on itself. All his life, he had believed he was just another servant, no different from the others. But now, to learn that he was the bastard son of Duke Marcelo himself… it was too much to take in.
Mira had looked at him with sad eyes, her hands wringing the apron she always wore. "The heart pendant you always had on you, was the only thing she left for you before she died."
Elian looked down at the pendant, his fingers brushing against the worn metal. It had always been a comfort to him, a connection to a mother he had never known.
He didn't know how to react. He felt numb, lost in a whirlwind of emotions that he couldn't begin to understand. His mother… his real mother… had died bringing him into this world, and all he had left of her was this small, broken piece of metal.
"Mira," Elian said, his voice shaking. "What… what did she look like? My mother?"
Mira smiled sadly, her eyes filled with a deep, abiding sorrow. "She was beautiful, Elian. She had the same green eyes as you, the same gentle heart. She loved you very much, even though she never got the chance to hold you."
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he asked, his voice barely audible.
Mira sighed, looking away. "I wanted to protect you, Elian. The truth… it's a heavy burden to bear, especially for someone as young as you. But now, I see that keeping it from you has only caused you more pain."
Elian nodded slowly, the weight of the revelation settling heavily on his shoulders. He felt like he was drowning in a sea of confusion and grief, unsure of how to navigate this new reality.
As Elian lay on the stable floor, the memory of that conversation fresh in his mind, he clenched his fist around the pendant. It used to be whole, but now it was just a half, just like him, a fragment of something once complete. He had given the other half to a boy he had helped years ago, a boy with a kind smile.
But that was a lifetime ago, back when he believed that kindness could be repaid with kindness. Now, he wasn't so sure.
The stable door creaked open, and Elian flinched, expecting Vecto to return. But it was only Mira, her face lined with worry as she hurried over to him.
"Oh, Elian," she murmured, kneeling beside him. "What has that boy done to you this time?"
Elian tried to sit up, wincing as pain shot through his side. Mira gently pushed him back down, her hands warm and comforting as she examined his bruises.
"I'm fine," Elian mumbled, though he knew it was far from the truth.
"You don't have to lie to me," Mira said softly, as she tried to help him up. "I know it's hard, Elian. But you've to be strong."
Elian looked up at her, his green eyes filled with unshed tears. "I just wish… I wish things were different."
Mira sighed, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. "I know, child. I wish that too. But you mustn't lose hope. Your mother - your birth mother, wouldn't want you to give up."
Elian nodded, though the words felt hollow. But as he looked down at the pendant on his wrist, he couldn't help but wonder if there was still some small piece of that hope left in him.
"I'll try," he whispered, more to himself than to Mira. "I'll try to be strong."
Mira smiled sadly, her eyes filled with pride and sorrow. "That's all anyone can ask of you, Elian. Just keep trying."