My name is Rayan Sunreign.

Six months ago, I was stripped of my noble title and cast out of my own family.

Yesterday, a letter arrived—sealed with the Sunreign crest.
A summons.
They want me to attend a family dinner

I don’t have any interest in going.
They never really liked me—even when I was living under their roof.
But still, they raised me. I have to go.

They even sent me expensive clothes—
as if I’m supposed to dress up and play the part at their little dinner.
Like some puppet on display.

The carriage ride was quiet.

Trees lined the narrow road, green and heavy, casting long shadows across the trail.
This forest hadn’t changed.
Still as silent and suffocating as the day I left.

Then the carriage slowed.

The gates of the Sunreign estate loomed ahead—tall, cold, and familiar.

The carriage slows to a halt.
I step down onto the gravel path, surrounded by the quiet shade of tall trees lining the estate road.

For a moment, I stand there—
wearing the clothes they chose for me, in a place that once called me its own.
But I don’t feel like I belong.

Another carriage was parked near the entrance.
Its crest caught my eye—my grandfather’s.

I let out a quiet breath.
He’s the only one in this house who ever looked at me like I mattered.

I still remember one of the few warm days here.

When I was ten, Grandfather saw me watching the older heirs train with their swords.
I had no Crest back then—no magical light in my veins, no noble glow to earn respect.

But he still knelt beside me, offered me a wooden sword, and said,
“Even if your Crest never shines, you can still learn how to stand tall.”

That was the first time someone made me feel like I belonged.

I carry that moment more tightly than any title.

A moment later, the mansion doors opened.
And there he was. Lucen Sunreign.

My younger half-brother stood at the top of the steps, arms crossed, wearing a smirk that hadn’t aged a day.

“Brother Rayan,” he greeted, voice syrupy with mockery.
“So you actually showed up. I half expected you to crawl in wearing rags.”

I didn’t respond to the jab.
I just walked forward.

Lucen’s eyes scanned my outfit—the fine clothing they sent me.

“They even cleaned you up, huh?”
He gave a low chuckle.
“Well, I suppose even a stray deserves a fancy collar for one night.”

He enjoyed this far too much.
But I was used to it.

Lucen was always one of the loudest voices that pushed me to the edge.
One of the first to cheer when I fell.

Still, I kept walking.
My silence was the only thing I had left that couldn’t be twisted.

I stepped past him.

Even if they hate me…
Even if I no longer belong…
Tonight, I return.

Not because I want to…
…but because I have to.