THE DAY I LOST TEARS
“Hey, Mom! Is it ready yet?”
Erina, the eldest daughter of the House of Novalanch—one of the highest-ranking noble families in the Kingdom of Krane—called out eagerly. She was practically vibrating with excitement. Today was her little brother Erik’s fifteenth birthday. In their kingdom, turning fifteen was a massive milestone; it meant a youth could finally enroll in prestigious knight academies or legally take part in the family’s vast business industries.
“Geez! You’re even more excited than the birthday boy himself,” her mother replied with a fond shake of her head. “Go on, go wake up that little fool.”
Erina practically sprinted upstairs. Reaching her brother's bedroom, a mischievous grin spread across her face. She burst through the door and lunged directly onto his bed, aiming a flying tackle at him.
Erik, however, was already half-awake. Showing off the lightning-fast reflexes that made him a prodigy among knight students, he smoothly rolled to the side, letting his sister crash harmlessly into the mattress.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, L’IL BRO!” Erina cheered, completely unbothered by her missed target.
“My birthday is technically tomorrow," Erik groaned, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "And is that how you're supposed to wish someone, Sis? Grow up already.”
Despite his complaints, a faint smile tugged at his lips. Erik was blessed with abundant magical reserves and an innate talent for the blade. His absolute dream was to become a decorated noble knight, one of the most highly honored professions in the country.
“You know how chaotic tomorrow is going to be," Erina countered, crossing her arms. "Father is throwing a massive public gala, and even the Seventh Prince himself is attending. We’ll be buried in politics all day. That’s why we decided to celebrate early today, just as a family. Anyway, congrats! Now strip so I can dress you. Everyone knows you have zero fashion sense.”
“I have a much better dressing sense than you, thank you very much," Erik shot back, deadpan. He pointedly looked at her. "Just look at yourself.”
He wasn't wrong. His chaotic older sister had rushed into his room wearing nothing but her undergarments.
Erina puffed out her chest playfully. “It’s fine! Or what, are you going to ogle your own sister, you little pervert?”
“I am absolutely never going to do that! And it is not fine!” Erik sighed, burying his face in his hands. But as the banter died down, a shadow of worry crossed his face. He looked up, his tone shifting. “I heard from Father... you won’t be here tonight?”
Erina’s playful demeanor softened into an apologetic smile. “Yeah, sorry about that. The Knight Order called me in for an emergency shift. But I promise, I’ll be back before midnight so we can cut the cake together.”
“I see,” Erik murmured.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The grandfather clock in the corner of the great hall chimed. It was officially midnight. The celebration was supposed to start an hour ago, but the grand double doors remained shut.
My sister wasn't back yet.
“She always does this,” I muttered, crossing my arms and staring down at my boots. A heavy pout settled on my face. “Going back on her promises... I'm never going to forgive her for this.”
“Now, now, don’t be upset, Erik,” Mother said gently, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. “You know how demanding the Knight Order can be. Look on the bright side—here is your cake.”
Father stepped forward, carefully setting down a magnificent, multi-layered birthday cake in the center of the mahogany table. At its peak sat a single, thick candle, its bright flame dancing merrily and casting a warm glow over my parents' smiling faces.
“Make a wish, son,” Father smiled, his voice full of pride. “They say a mage's fifteenth birthday wish carries a special kind of magic. Whatever you ask for will surely come true.”
I already knew exactly what I wanted. I didn't care about becoming the strongest knight or inheriting the family fortune. I just looked at my parents, feeling incredibly grateful.
Leaning forward, I closed my eyes. 'May we all always be together, and may we always be happy,' I prayed in my heart.
With a gentle puff of air, I blew out the candle.
Plunge.
The moment the flame died, the entire manor was plunged into a suffocating, unnatural darkness. The magical light crystals lining the walls didn't just flicker—they shattered simultaneously, raining glass onto the stone floor.
Before I could even gasp, the massive iron doors of the great hall groaned open.
A heavy, metallic stench flooded the room. It was the unmistakable smell of fresh copper. Through the dim moonlight filtering through the high windows, I saw a tall silhouette walk inside. Dragged carelessly behind him on the pristine carpet were several mangled, unmoving shapes—the bodies of our elite house guards.
“Who goes there?!” Father roared, instinctively stepping in front of Mother and me, his hand reaching for the magical sword at his waist.
He never got the chance to draw it.
There was a sickening, wet sound. In the blink of an eye, the intruder moved like a phantom. A pair of glowing, crimson eyes flared in the dark right in front of us.
“Wish granted,” a cold, raspy voice echoed through the hall.
Thud. Thud.
Two heavy objects hit the ground. My breath hitched. My eyes strained against the shadows, and my heart stopped. Standing right there, completely lifeless on the floor, were my mother and father. They were dead before they could even scream.
Terror, absolute and freezing, paralyzed my muscles. I wanted to cry out, to weep, to run—but no sound came out of my throat. My tears dried up instantly, frozen by sheer shock.
Before my brain could process the nightmare, a cold, iron-like grip clamped tightly around my neck. The crimson-eyed man lifted me effortlessly off the ground, cutting off my air. The world spun, the shadows swallowed my vision, and I completely passed out into the dark.