The room was silent, save for the low crackle of flames licking the stone walls. Joseph Luthbrecht stood motionless in the center of the alchemy chamber, the searing heat radiating off his body warping the very air around him. The document in his hand had already turned to ash.
He raised his head slowly, his eyes burning with rage.
"Find me the Phantom... or what remains of him," he said coldly.
---
In the morning, sunlight blanketed the Ravengard Dukedom. A crisp layer of snow clung stubbornly to the treetops on the outskirts of the forest. On the east side, slightly behind the manor, stood a tower-like structure, a part of the estate long forgotten by most. Inside, dim candlelight flickered against the stone walls.
Kaisel stood over a long table, mixing a dark bluish liquid in a narrow-necked vial. Books lay sprawled across the table alongside herbs, small magic stones, and an old leather-bound diary filled with runes and handwritten notes. The diary was slightly worn, its corners curled and edges torn from frequent use. It was not an ancient relic, but Kaisel's own work—years of research compressed between those dark covers.
Anton, Kaisel's younger brother, pushed open the heavy wooden door.
"Brother... what are you doing here?"
"I'm working," Kaisel replied without looking up.
"You know... you could open the curtains. There's no need to sit in the dark like this," Anton said, pointing at the thick red curtains covering the window.
Still staring at the diary, Kaisel responded calmly, "No need. I'm more comfortable this way."
Anton frowned, concern flashing briefly across his face. "So what are you doing?"
Kaisel looked up with a faint smile. "Something for the mines."
Anton's expression shifted to disbelief. He rushed to Kaisel's side. "What do you mean 'for the mines'? What is that liquid?"
"Rune Ink," Kaisel said, swirling the vial gently. "It's used for drawing runes."
"Runes? Aren't they used for formations and enchantments? I heard they can even channel magic of different attributes. But... isn't Rune Ink usually green?"
"Green is common," Kaisel explained. "This one is rarer. Some even use blood... though only black magicians do that nowadays."
"How do you know all this? You never even went to the academy."
Kaisel turned a page of his diary. "There are many ways to acquire knowledge, Anton. The academy isn't the only one."
"So... how are you going to use it? Do you actually know how to inscribe runes?"
"I do. I'm going to use them to clear the boulders blocking the mine."
Anton stared, speechless. In his heart, he knew Kaisel must have learned all this while he was gone.
To Anton, the Kaisel of the past and the one standing now were not the same. The young boy he once knew had been cheerful and full of light. A genius, even at the age of four. But others, the nobles, whispered that Kaisel was cursed due to his dark, copper-toned skin and black hair. He never cared for their words.
The death of his father shook him, but Kaisel remained strong, trying to support his mother, the Duchess. However, when his mother died a year and a half later, he completely changed. The light in his eyes vanished, replaced by a cold, distant demeanor. The loss broke him, and he was no longer the boy he once was.
Anton recalled the funeral. He and his sister Nerrisa wore black. Their grandfather, Arthur de Ravengard, stood behind them like a looming wall—tall despite his age, with long tied-back white hair, a matching beard, and sharp white eyebrows. He leaned on a black cane with a platinum handle, dressed in a heavy black cloak with fur-lined shoulders.
Kaisel's face was unreadable. His long black hair covered his eyes from the front, but Anton saw from the side—his ruby-red eyes gleamed coldly. A chill ran down Anton's spine.
Arthur noticed it too. His eyes widened. He quickly placed a hand on Kaisel's shoulder and whispered,
"Kaisel, suppress your bloodlust. Your brother and sister are right next to you."
Snapped out of it, Kaisel turned to his siblings. Seeing Anton's frightened expression, he murmured,
"I'm sorry."
From that moment on, the light in his eyes vanished.
---
One year later, on a restless night, Anton couldn't find sleep. He decided to take a walk through the quiet halls of the manor. As he passed by the study, he noticed a faint light spilling through the cracks of the door. Curiosity got the better of him, and he quietly approached.
Inside, he saw Arthur and Kaisel, sitting together, speaking in hushed tones. The older man, Arthur, looked weary, his frail figure leaning slightly on his cane. Kaisel, on the other hand, appeared composed, though there was something different about him — something distant.
Anton lingered by the door, unsure whether to interrupt or simply observe.
"Kaisel, you should be ready to inherit the Duke's title," said Arthur.
"What... this soon? I'm not ready," Kaisel replied.
"I'm old, boy. Dying. I don't know how long I have left. You must take the mantle."
Kaisel fell silent, then said,
"Five years. Just give me five years."
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "What are you going to do in five years?"
"I'm leaving the Dukedom. I need to become strong enough to protect them."
Arthur stared. "You're only ten..." But seeing the resolve in Kaisel's eyes, he stopped. He sighed.
"Five years. But come back. Your siblings can't face those vultures alone."
"Thank you, Grandfather."
A voice rang from the doorway.
"Brother, where are you going?!"
It was Anton.
"Anton, why are you not asleep?" Kaisel said.
"Answer me! You can't just leave us alone!" Anton shouted.
Arthur remained silent, letting the brothers talk.
Kaisel exhaled deeply.
"Anton... I will come back. Have faith in me."
Anton trembled, tears welling. "But, but—"
Kaisel interrupted gently,
"You are my brother. Trust in me. In the meantime, support Grandfather and protect Nerrisa."
Anton, crying, nodded.
Kaisel turned to Arthur.
"Keep my disappearance a secret to outside. I'll leave at midnight."
Arthur groaned. "So sudden... fine. Do as you will."
---
At midnight, Kaisel stood outside Nerrisa's room, clad in a black outfit with a cloak draped over his shoulders. A bag hung at his side, a pouch strapped to his waist, and a sword rested at his hip. He gazed down at Nerrisa, who slept peacefully. He didn't have the heart to wake her, so he simply whispered, "Goodbye. I'll see you after five years."
With that, Kaisel turned and made his way toward the manor's gates. He mounted his horse and rode out into the night, his figure quickly vanishing into the darkness. Anton and Arthur stood silently, watching him disappear into the distance.
---
Five years passed.
Arthur grew frail. Anton and Nerrisa matured. On a rainy evening, Anton walked the dim halls carrying documents. A shadow emerged from the darkness—a cloaked figure.
Anton tensed. But as the figure stepped into the light, his eyes widened.
"Brother..." he whispered. Then louder, tears in his eyes,
"Brother, you're finally here."
Kaisel gave a faint smile. "Anton... I stink right now."
Anton ignored him and pulled him along toward Arthur's room. On the way, they passed Nerrisa and Melvia.
"Brother!"
"Young master Kaisel!"
But Anton didn't stop.
Inside the room, Arthur lay on his bed, aged and frail. Kaisel approached, taking his grandfather's hand.
Arthur opened his eyes.
"You are finally here."
"I am. You can rest now. I'll take care of everything."
---
Back to the present
Anton thought about the past.
_I don't know where brother was during those five years or what he was doing. It's been over a year since he came back, and he's definitely become strong—really strong. I don't even know where he got those knights from,_ Anton thought to himself.
Anton looked at Kaisel, now calmly mixing Rune Ink, and knew one thing for sure:
The brother who had left was not the one who came back.
-To be continued.