Atrina Cassel, a woman deeply devoted to the Cassel family headed by her brother, was someone who would do anything for her lineage– as such were the Cassel family’s teachings. The sons were prized above daughters, while the daughters were treated as tools, useful only when they served a purpose.
But Atrina, true to her own nature, was not entirely what her family expected her to be. And ironically, no one in the family even had an inkling. She was devoted to the family, but wasn’t one to be with poor ambitions. She had her sights set high—on becoming the head of the family. And for that, she was willing to do whatever it took. Even something as extreme as leaving her husband and dragging her son into the Cassel household while ignoring her daughter entirely.
Her neglect of Raven wasn’t due to hatred or bitterness. It was simple pragmatism. To her, Raven was nothing more than dead weight. The Cassels valued sons, and bringing her daughter back would only tarnish Atrina’s own standing.
When Atrina first heard the rumor about Raven being injured, she was delighted. It meant her son’s competition might be out of the picture. She had even fueled those rumors herself, spreading negativity about Raven to sway the Serth elders in favor of her son.
But tonight, her plans unraveled. Raven had emerged unscathed, and everyone knew what that likely meant—she had awakened her powers.
Atrina had anticipated the possibility, of course. She wasn’t reckless enough to rely solely on the rumors she had sown. Everyone who had heard the rumour didn’t know, but she was the one who spread the rumour, how would she not know that it was really possible that Raven might have awakened? To her, Raven’s awakening was simply another obstacle, one more challenge to navigate.
As she watched her daughter standing confidently by her father’s side, something stirred in her heart—a faint pang she quickly suppressed. Even though she regarded Raven as a burden, she couldn’t deny feeling a flicker of pride. Had circumstances been different, had it not been so inconvenient to bring Raven back, she might have raised her as a reflection of her own strength and ambition and not leave her child to that indifferent man. But Atrina had long since buried such thoughts. As someone who wanted to climb to the top from a hell hole, emotions were luxuries she couldn’t afford.
The banquet ended at eleven— without any incident and Raven confirmed, much to her relief, that the future had really changed. The second turning point of her life didn’t come to pass. This caused her to be optimistic about the future– it could be changed. Raven was the most scared about this. If whatever she did didn’t matter and her future couldn’t be changed, wouldn’t that be despairing? So she was really relieved that this event did not happen.
As the guests departed and her father concluded his speech, Atrina approached Raven privately. The moment her mother came near, Raven’s instincts flared in warning. Narrowing her eyes, she asked, “What do you want?”
“Raven,” Atrina greeted her with a sweet smile. “Why do you speak to your mother like that? I only came to give you a gift.”
She didn’t plan to play with her and directly said, “I don’t think I want your gift. I’ll definitely throw it away.”
“Then mustn’t I give you a gift you can’t throw away?” Atrina's smile widened, her tone deceptively light, “We are coming back, Raven. Are you happy?”
“Then, I must really throw away your gift.” Raven replied calmly, coming to the conclusion that her mother had troubled her enough today and if she let her go peacefully today, wouldn’t that be a waste of her father’s teachings?
Her cold smile made Atrina’s spine tingle, but she kept her composure. “Mother has given me a gift—or at least, tried to,” Raven said with a mock-politeness that was almost gleeful. “And of course, it would be rude of me not to return the favor.”
Raven cast a subtle glance toward her father, who had been observing the exchange with an air of relaxed detachment. When their eyes met, he smiled—a gesture that startled the remaining guests, sending a wave of unease through them. Everyone knew what happened when the Lord of the Ether city smiled like that— it meant that someone was going to have a really bad time. But much to their disappointment, he did nothing, simply watching from his seat.
But that means that he has already done something. Forcing herself to maintain a polite demeanor, Atrina asked, “So, what gift do you plan to give me?”
“How can a mother be as eager as a child?” Raven retorted smoothly. “You’ll receive your gift on your birthday.”
Atrina’s jaw tightened, though she managed to keep her smile intact. “Ha ha… of course. Mother won’t push you.”
Raven felt satisfied as she looked at her mother’s tense face. It was clear that Atrina had bought her bluff. She strolled over to her father and whispered with a smile, “Father, you’re really lucky. Even though your favorite guests couldn’t make it, you didn’t suffer a loss.”
Raven hadn’t invited the guests her father had a grudge against so as to prevent him from being petty and troubling the guests for fun; though she didn’t really care about the guests, her intention was to trouble her father. But unexpectedly her mother showed up. Raven felt that her father must have really enjoyed this banquet.
“Are you upset that your gift didn’t get delivered properly?” her father teased, a smug tone in his voice as he stood to leave with her.
Raven frowned slightly but chose not to answer directly. Instead, she remarked lightly, “Some people are not going to have a good time.”
Raven wasn’t like her father, who delighted in taking revenge for fun. However, she wasn’t one to let things slide, either. Letting people go without consequences would only encourage them to try again. It was better to be decisive towards such people or else they would only bring more trouble in the future.
“I will say that I am impressed.” her father said as they walked out together.
Raven’s curiosity piqued. Her father rarely praised anyone. “Oh? Why?”
He glanced at her but didn’t answer the question. He said after a while. “You are still inexperienced so you don’t understand. But your mother has done a lot of things which could be used against her– quite sneakily too. Your bluff wasn’t just making her nervous for a moment.”
Raven’s initial surprise gave way to understanding. Her eyes curved into a sly smile. “Is that why you helped me?” she asked, referring to the subtle look he’d given during the banquet. She had only glanced at him to deepen her mother’s anxiety. His smile had been an unexpected bonus. At that moment, due to the waves it created, Raven could only think that her father was so powerful that even a smile could make everyone else cautious.
Her father didn’t reply but his silence already said everything. Raven took a deep breath.
This was really a pleasant turn of events. She didn’t know much about her mother, so it was normal for her to be mistaken. When she had been bluffing, she didn’t know that Atrina had done some suspicious things. She just wanted to unsettle her with the possibility that Rayan was trying to mess with her and she would anxiously wait for it to pass.
But if she was guilty instead, things would be different– Atrina would think that Rayan had caught some of her deeds. Wouldn’t then she be very anxious, make mistakes while trying to safeguard herself and reveal her trail?
Even though Raven didn’t know her mother, she was sure that she was at least not stupid. Considering Atrina’s intelligence, Raven deduced the likely progression of her mother’s thoughts.
And as any smart person, Atrina would first doubt why they had hit the bush to alert the snake when they could have struck quietly— she wouldn’t stupidly accept her bluff. She would probably think it through carefully.
First, Atrina would discard the idea that it was a bluff almost immediately. After all, Raven’s father had indirectly confirmed the fact. He was a cold person, he wouldn’t casually support his daughter’s bluff. And even if it was a bluff, she couldn’t afford to take that chance.
As for the possibility of it being a trap? That was unlikely. Atrina herself had initiated the conversation, and Raven hadn’t even known she would show up at the banquet. There was no time to plan such a scheme. Even if she did know, Raven would have to take the initiative to approach her at some point during the banquet to trap her. But Raven acted as if she didn’t exist at all. So her mother wouldn’t consider this possibility for long.
Left with these considerations, Atrina would likely conclude two possibilities
Either they had already done something that it didn’t even matter if she were alerted. And if alerting her wouldn’t change anything, then Atrina could only admit defeat and try to cut her losses. And if she was smart, she would have done that anyway.
Or most probably, Atrina would think that it was simply her young daughter’s inexperience which led her to act on her emotions and reveal it. After all, Atrina had approached Raven so that she could stimulate her– she wanted her to slip up; and the other possibilities were low.
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It was possible that Atrina wouldn’t fall into their trap, though. If she did, however, it would be really… amusing. Even if she doesn't, she’ll surely be troubled mentally. At that point, Raven’s goal would already be attained.
Raven mused over her father’s reaction. Was this why her father was impressed? Raven didn’t think so. She hadn’t done it intentionally. Wasn’t it like a blind cat running into a dead mouse? There was no need to be impressed with luck.
Then what had impressed him?
Raven contemplated while her father patiently waited for her to think it through. After a while, she finally understood. If it was not for her mother, then it must be connected to someone else. Her intuition ruled out her brother—anything she’d done today was only the beginning of their rivalry. It was too soon to be impressed.
That left Freya.
So, Ashcal probably convinced Freya to apologise. It was easy for Raven to come to that conclusion by looking at things from her father’s perspective.
Her father could easily hear whatever happened at the banquet from just about anywhere. He must have noticed the commotion in the kids area.
Then it was logical to think that he would have heard her conversation with Ashcal too. Raven could guess what went on in her father’s mind while he heard their conversation. And he certainly wouldn’t be impressed by the end of it.
Especially since she had entrusted Ashcal with the most important and difficult step of her plan– convincing Freya to apologise to her officially. Her father hated Ashcal and didn’t have any positive impression about him.
Raven knew that Ashcal could convince Freya because she had seen him in action many times before. But her father hadn’t. At that time, her plan probably looked like it was just wishful thinking of someone who underestimates others.
Her father would only be impressed after Ashcal succeeded. After all, it would mean that Raven’s plan was actually realistic and well thought out.
So, I will soon have to deal with the Urnal family. After sorting her thoughts about her future plans, Raven turned towards her father, and said with a smile, “Dad, I didn’t expect you to pay attention to us.”
“Are you so happy that you started calling me dad?”
Raven narrowed her eyes, “Should I not?”
He kept a hand on her head, decisively changed the subject, and said slowly, “That boy is stupid, or maybe he is too young, he doesn’t understand. The Urnals wouldn’t let their heir roam freely if she were truly that naive. Freya is as cunning as she is lucky. Illegitimate children aren’t merely bullied—they’re eliminated if they’re a threat. It was her cunning when she appeared as someone harmless so that they ignored her, but it was her luck that she had such a superpower.” He gave her a serious look, “Raven, be careful of such people. You can easily beat her cunning. But luck?”
Raven froze for a moment, processing his words. After all, wasn’t her father right? Freya was part of the protagonist group, protagonists were both unlucky and incredibly fortunate. Raven wasn’t clueless about the usual routine of protagonists after reading a few novels. Even though the protagonists were bound to suffer, weren’t they always supposed to make it to the end and improve, no matter what?
Her thoughts drifted to the recent turn of events. Just as she planned to make the Urnals formally apologize to her, her brother—a fellow protagonist—had appeared, ready to undermine her power.
Her brother’s appearance meant that she’ll have to be careful enough to not offend any prestigious family casually, or else they would simply support her brother. So, eventually, Raven will have to take a step back when dealing with the Urnals– so as to not offend them.
If this wasn’t luck, then what was?
It was outrageous, but Raven wasn’t worried too much about this. She believed in herself. Her eyes sharpened as she said, “Dad, can something like luck matter in front of someone like me?”
Rayan’s eyes glinted with approval at her confident words. Anyone who thought he didn’t know how to raise a child was a fool. His daughter was clearly growing up just fine.
They reached the entrance of their house when Raven heard her father say, “Happy birthday, Raven.”
“You too, Dad,” she replied lightly.
“I think I never gave you a proper gift,” he added, an unusual hint of thoughtfulness in his tone.
Raven narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “...What are you planning?”
He flicked her forehead lightly, eliciting a small cry of protest. “You’re getting the chance to be an apprentice under the world’s strongest wind elementalist. Do you know how many people would kill for that?”
For a moment, Raven stood stunned. Then, snapping out of her daze, she quickly replied, “Dad, I’m grateful! Really, I am! Don’t worry, I won’t disappoint you!”
Her father scoffed, amused. “You’d better not. Be in my study at 5 AM sharp tomorrow.”
Raven nodded enthusiastically. “Goodnight, Dad!”
She was still reeling from the surprise as she hurried inside. This opportunity was priceless. Her father was such a busy man that he rarely even shared a meal with her, let alone devoted time to teaching. For him to personally train her was nothing short of a miracle.
Raven had never been formally trained in her element, as it was common to encourage young spectres to discover their abilities independently at first. But now, having her father as her teacher was the best possible outcome.
After a quick wash, she prepared for bed. While spectres required less sleep than ordinary people, her nanny was strict about ensuring Raven got at least six hours a night.
“Young Miss, did you enjoy the banquet today?” Margaret asked, helping her change out of her elaborate dress.
“Enjoy?” Raven tilted her head thoughtfully. “Not really. But it was… interesting.”
Margaret’s curiosity was piqued. “Interesting? How so?”
“For the first time, I was the center of gossip at a banquet,” Raven admitted with a faint smile. “It was… a new learning experience.”
Margaret hesitated before consoling her. “Young Miss, you’ll grow used to it. As a Serth, it’s normal to be at the center of attention—especially at your own family’s event.”
Raven nodded and mused aloud, “You don’t mind it much while you’re there. You might even enjoy it. But afterward… you realize you don’t want it to happen again anytime soon. Hosting a banquet is exhausting.”
***
In a quiet town below Ether City, an inconspicuous, abandoned warehouse began showing subtle signs of activity. Then, as if a mirage, the disturbances vanished, leaving the area eerily silent.
Inside, a sharp voice broke the stillness. “You! Have you lost your mind?! How could you damage the charm?! Do you want to die?”
The trembling subordinate stammered, “I’m sorry, A12! It won’t happen again!”
“It better not,” the supervisor snapped. “Do you know what will happen if anything goes wrong? None of us will keep our heads!”
“Yes, A12!”
“Then get back to work!” the supervisor barked, wiping sweat from his brow. The brief malfunction of the charm had terrified him. If the authorities discovered them, the organization would rescue its prized scientists first, leaving disposable bodyguards like him to face the consequences.
Cursing his luck, the supervisor made his way into one of the underground labs.
The lab reeked of antiseptic and despair. Glass chambers lined the walls, filled with restrained figures whose hollow eyes silently pleaded for mercy. The cold gleam of sharp instruments reflected the flickering fluorescent lights, and the low hum of machinery drowned out faint cries of agony. Bloodstains marred the sterile floors, and the air felt oppressive, saturated with suffering and cruelty.
Unbothered by the grim scene, the supervisor approached a figure in a white coat. “How’s the progress?” he asked gruffly.
Without turning, the scientist replied coldly, “Final tests are underway. If all goes well, we’ll be done in a few weeks.”
The supervisor nodded and left, unwilling to disturb the scientist further fearing any delay.
***
A strange, melodic sound pierced the stillness of the night. It was soft yet clear, a lilting tune carried by the wind, like a flute playing an otherworldly melody.
Raven stirred in her sleep, the sound rousing her. Slowly, she opened her eyes and frowned. “Again?” she murmured, sitting up. “What is it?”
For a year now, she had been hearing these strange melodies—near yet far, intangible yet hauntingly real. She had searched through countless texts but found no answers. The only certainty was that no one else seemed to hear them.
Each melody was unique, and they came sporadically, just as she was beginning to forget the last. Though she had initially suspected something was wrong with her ears, her intuition told her otherwise. She’d even stopped Margaret from calling a doctor.
Sighing, Raven resolved to ask her father about it tomorrow. For now, she lay back down and drifted into a peaceful sleep.
But Rayan Serth was far from at ease. Insomnia had once again driven him to his desk, where he worked under the soft glow of a lamp. The quiet of his bedroom, usually a sanctuary for concentration, felt oppressive tonight.
The winds began to stir unexpectedly, faint at first, then growing insistent. This wasn’t the usual breeze slipping through cracks—it carried a peculiar energy, whispering melodies that seemed to shift the atmosphere itself.
He froze mid-motion, his pen hovering over a sheet of paper. Instincts, honed by years of confronting calamities, roared to life. Slowly, he leaned back in his chair, his jaw tightening as the winds swirled chaotically around him. Papers rustled and lifted as if trying to escape, and a chill seeped into the room, cutting through the warmth of the hearth.
The haunting notes were familiar yet unsettling, brushing against his senses like a warning. Unlike the ethereal sounds Raven occasionally felt, these melodies carried weight—a resonance that only someone of his mastery could discern.
Rayan set his pen down, his sharp gaze narrowing as he let the sounds wash over him. The winds, though not wild, were restless, carrying a faint edge of urgency. What troubled him wasn’t the sound itself but what it signified. Something was brewing—not a disaster, but a disruption significant enough to leave ripples.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the sapphire wristwatch Raven had slyly slipped into his pocket earlier during the banquet as a birthday present. He thumbed the smooth surface of the watch, his mind turning over possibilities.
As thoughts of Raven crossed his mind, a shadow of worry passed over him. “Settle,” he murmured to the winds, exerting his will to calm them. The air grew still once more, but his unease did not fade. These warnings weren’t about immediate chaos—they were glimpses of an approaching challenge.
He clenched his fists, his knuckles pale against the dark wood of his desk. The timing couldn’t be ignored. This stirring came just as his daughter was beginning to re-enter society—a coincidence too precise to dismiss.
The night grew deeper, and though the winds had stilled, Rayan’s thoughts churned restlessly. He could only begin to prepare, despite being unsure of what awaited.
Across the northern region, the winds carried faint whispers, too soft for most to hear. A few sensitive spectres stirred in response, unease rippling quietly through the air.
That night, the whole north was subtly alerted, and forces quietly stood on standby.
When the sound of the wind is heard, everyone must hold their breath and brace for what may come.
***
Would you be interested in a bonus or side chapter from another character’s point of view?
