The rain poured heavily, its cold droplets cutting through the air, matching the despair that wrapped around Dante Aelric's heart. A storm raged not just outside, but inside his very soul. It had been this way for days now, as if the heavens themselves were mourning alongside him. His body stood motionless, his gaze locked on the massive mansion in front of him, the one that had been his home for as long as he could remember. A place of wealth and status, where his father, Aelric Drakorn, held the title of patriarch and wielded power over their vast family lineage. A lineage that now felt like nothing more than a distant echo.
Dante had always been told he was destined for greatness, that one day, he would become an Evolver, someone who could transcend humanity and transform into a mythical creature, a being of legend. It was a promise made to him by his father, a promise that had burned bright in his chest as a child, something that made him believe he was special, that he would one day rise above the ordinary and claim his place among the powerful.
But that promise had been shattered tonight.
His father, the great Aelric Drakorn, had condemned him to a life of mediocrity, a life that would never touch the heights of the Evolvers, a life where he would remain as human as the day he was born.
"You are a disgrace, Dante. A failure."
His father's voice echoed in his mind, cold and final, the words etched into his heart like a scar. It wasn't just that Dante had failed to evolve into a mythical creature, but that he had been born without the talent to even take the first step on the path of evolution. In a world where power, strength, and status were defined by one's ability to evolve into these legendary beings, those who failed to do so were nothing more than dead weight, left to wallow in their uselessness.
Dante's hands clenched into fists, his fingernails digging into his palms, but even his rage couldn't fuel his movements. He couldn't do anything. He wasn't strong enough.
"Dear, please! Let us stay with him!"
The voice of his mother, Ariella Aelric, rang out sharply from behind him. Dante didn't have to turn to know that his mother's tear-streaked face was filled with desperation, pleading for some semblance of mercy for their son. The sound of her voice was one of the few things that had kept him going for the last few years, but now… now it only served to deepen the sorrow that clung to him like a shadow. His mother had always been a kind woman, one who loved him unconditionally, but in the end, she too had become powerless in the face of his father's unrelenting will.
"Enough, Ariella!" his father snapped.
The sound of his voice was harsh, final. There was no room for discussion, no chance for anyone to sway his mind. Dante knew this well; his father had always been a man of absolute certainty, one who didn't care for weakness or failure. And Dante, in his father's eyes, was the embodiment of both.
Dante could hear the struggle in his mother's voice, the way she fought against the reality that her husband had made his decision. She didn't want to leave, didn't want to let go of her son, but in the face of her husband's overwhelming power, what choice did she have?
"I'm sorry, Dante," Ariella said, her voice trembling with emotion, "I tried… I really did."
Tears welled up in Dante's eyes as he stood there, a helpless spectator to his own tragedy. His sister, Lyra, had been silent up until this point, her own emotions no doubt swirling in her chest, but now she stepped forward. The small, slender figure of his younger sister, barely older than fourteen, stood beside their mother, looking up at their father with a mixture of anger and sorrow. Lyra had always been the optimistic one, the one who believed that things could change, that their family could be whole again. But now, even she was powerless.
"You can't just take them from me!" Dante finally shouted, his voice breaking with emotion. "They're my family! They're everything to me!"
Aelric Drakorn, his father, turned to him with an air of disdain, as if Dante's words held no weight. His father's gaze was cold, calculating, and as sharp as a blade.
"Do not speak to me like that, boy," his father said, his voice low but laced with fury. "You are nothing but a failure, and I will not let that stain my name. I'll not let you drag the Aelric family's legacy into the mud. You've failed to become an Evolver, and as such, you no longer belong here."
Dante's heart shattered at his father's words. The word 'Evolver' echoed in his mind like a sick joke. Evolvers were revered in this world. They were the ones who transcended their humanity, evolving into beings of legend—Dragons, Phoenixes, Vampire, creatures that could wield unimaginable power and magic. They were born from bloodlines that carried the essence of these mythical creatures, or they could evolve by consuming their blood, albeit at a high cost.
Dante had done neither. He had no talent, no bloodline. He was nothing. He had been given no chance to rise above the ordinary.
And now, his father, the man who should have stood by him, had cast him aside, declaring him unworthy of the Aelric name.
"Please, Dear, don't do this," his mother begged again, her voice pleading. "We can work something out. Just… don't give up."
Her words fell on deaf ears. Dante knew, deep down, that there was no bargaining with his father. His decision was final. The Aelric family was a powerful one, famous for producing Evolvers, and Dante had brought shame to that legacy. His failure was a stain, one that his father could never forgive.
"You're nothing but a failure," his father repeated, his eyes hard and unforgiving. "And I will not allow you to remain in this house."
Dante could feel the weight of his father's words bearing down on him. The finality of it all left him numb, but beneath the numbness, a dark fire began to simmer. Rage. Pain. Helplessness. A mixture of emotions that Dante had no outlet for, emotions that had been building up for years.
"You—" Dante's voice cracked, a sharp, bitter edge to it. "You can't just take them from me! You can't do this!"
His father's gaze darkened, and without another word, he turned his back on Dante, moving to his mother and sister, who stood there, trembling, afraid. His father's strength was a palpable thing. No one could stand against him.
"I am leaving with your mother and sister. You will remain here," Aelric Drakorn said coldly. "And if you ever show your face here again, you will regret it."
And just like that, they were gone. His mother, the woman who had cared for him his entire life, the woman who had raised him with love and affection, was taken away by his father. Lyra, his younger sister, followed without a word, her eyes downcast, unable to even meet Dante's gaze.
He stood there, rooted to the spot, as his father's footsteps faded into the distance. The door slammed shut with a finality that echoed in his soul. The silence that followed was suffocating. His chest felt tight, his heart heavy with the weight of betrayal.
The storm raged on outside, the wind howling through the trees, but inside, all was quiet.
Dante Aelric stood alone in the cold, abandoned by his father, left in a world that had no place for him. A world that valued power, that saw him as nothing more than weak, useless. A world that had no use for someone who couldn't evolve, who couldn't transform into a mythical creature.
And yet, despite the crushing weight of his failure, Dante felt something stir deep within him. Something that he couldn't yet name, but something that burned with the fury of a thousand suns.
Maybe he had been cast aside. Maybe he was nothing now.
But that didn't mean he was done.
No, this was only the beginning.
With a final, trembling breath, Dante Aelric turned away from the door, his fists clenched at his sides. The storm raged on, but in the heart of that storm, something began to awaken within him.