I dragged myself into my room, my entire body aching from Damien's so-called "training session." The familiar sting of bruises and cuts greeted me with every step, a bitter reminder of the monster my half-brother truly was. I couldn't use my [Clone] spell too often—it was too risky. If Damien ever caught on, I'd lose the sliver of freedom I had left.
The worst part? To maintain appearances, I had to let him hit me, to take enough of a beating that the injuries looked real. My ribs ached from where his sword hilt had slammed into me, and my left arm throbbed from blocking a strike with no protection but my bare skin.
I leaned against the door, breathing heavily, and wiped the sweat from my brow. Blood stained my shirt, trickling from a cut just above my eyebrow. My head swam, but I didn't have time to rest. She'd be here soon.
Almost on cue, the door creaked open.
"Ariana..." I murmured, my voice hoarse.
The girl standing in the doorway was the only light in this otherwise miserable existence. At fourteen years old, Ariana Lionheart already carried herself with a grace beyond her years. Her golden hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders, and her blue eyes sparkled with warmth and concern.
"Lloyd!" she gasped, rushing to my side. Her delicate hands immediately reached for my arm, steadying me as she guided me to the bed. "Damien did it again, didn't he?"
I didn't answer. I didn't need to. The bruises and cuts told the story well enough.
Her face twisted into an expression of anger so fierce it was almost comical. She puffed out her cheeks, crossing her arms like an indignant child. "That stupid Damien! I'm going to give him a piece of my mind! How dare he treat you like this?!"
I chuckled despite the pain. "You're going to scold him? I'd pay to see that."
"I mean it!" she huffed, kneeling beside me. "Just because he's a Magic Swordsman doesn't mean he can act like a brute." Her hands hovered over my injuries, and a soft glow began to emanate from her palms. Her [Heal] spell activated with a warmth that spread through my body, mending the torn skin and easing the bruises.
I watched her work, marveling at the talent she wielded with such natural ease. Healing wasn't just a skill for Ariana—it was part of who she was. In a family filled with cruelty and apathy, she was the only one who treated me like a person.
She was my second reason for not fighting back.
I couldn't risk putting her in danger. If my power was discovered, if I rebelled against the family, Ariana might suffer the consequences. She was the only thing tethering me to this miserable place, the only one who gave me hope that things might someday get better.
"There," she said after a few moments, sitting back with a satisfied smile. "Good as new!"
I flexed my arm experimentally. The pain was gone, and the cuts had vanished without a trace. "Thanks, Ari," I said softly.
Her expression softened, and she reached out to squeeze my hand. "You don't have to thank me, Lloyd. That's what family is supposed to do. We're supposed to look out for each other."
The irony of her words stung, but I nodded. "Yeah. Family."
She tilted her head, studying me with those bright blue eyes. "You're not smiling. You should smile more, you know. It makes you look less scary."
"Scary?" I raised an eyebrow. "Do I really look that bad?"
"Only when you're brooding," she teased, standing up and brushing off her dress. "Come on. Let's go for a walk."
"A walk?"
"Yes!" She grabbed my hand, tugging me toward the door with surprising strength. "You need fresh air, and I'm not taking no for an answer."
The town of Lioncrest stretched out before us as we walked through its cobblestone streets. Despite the modest size of the barony, the town was lively, its market bustling with vendors calling out their wares. The scent of freshly baked bread mingled with the earthy aroma of spices and herbs, creating a welcoming atmosphere.
Ariana clung to my arm as we wandered, pointing out various stalls and chattering excitedly about everything and nothing.
"Look, Lloyd! They've got candied apples!" she exclaimed, dragging me toward a cheerful vendor.
I couldn't help but smile as she handed over a few coins and returned with two brightly colored treats. She held one out to me, her expression expectant.
"You're not going to let me eat alone, are you?" she said, pouting playfully.
I took the apple, biting into it with a satisfying crunch. The sweetness exploded on my tongue, a rare pleasure in a life filled with bitterness.
"Good, right?" Ariana beamed, already halfway through her own.
We continued through the market, stopping occasionally to watch street performers or examine trinkets at the stalls. For a little while, it was easy to forget the pain, the cruelty, the suffocating weight of the Lionheart estate.
"Ari," I said after a while, my voice soft.
She looked up at me, tilting her head curiously. "What is it?"
"Why do you do it?" I asked. "Why do you care so much about me?"
Her expression turned serious, and she squeezed my hand tightly. "Because you're my brother. And I love you."
The simplicity of her answer caught me off guard. I opened my mouth to respond, but she cut me off, her blue eyes blazing with determination.
"One day, when I'm older, I'm going to protect you," she said firmly. "No matter what. I'll make Damien stop. I'll make Father and Mother see how amazing you are. You won't have to suffer anymore, I promise."
My throat tightened, and I looked away, blinking back the sting in my eyes. "You're too kind, Ari. Too good for this place."
"So are you," she replied without hesitation. "You just don't see it yet."