CHAPTER 1: Ruins That Refuse to Crumble
Kael Darvick sat in silence on the porch of his old house, letting his body sink into a wooden chair that was starting to rot with age. At twenty-eight years old, Kael often found himself only able to stare at the gray sky hanging over the horizon with mixed feelings. There was no longer a spark of ambition in his eyes; all that remained was a thin mist of despair. The cigarette smoke he exhaled rose high into the air, swirling for a moment before finally vanishing into the cold evening wind, just like the hopes that were slowly fading from his life.
From behind, the sound of familiar footsteps broke the silence. "Young Master, here is the black coffee without sugar that you like," said a middle-aged woman in a calm voice, yet one full of affection.
"Thank you, Bi," Kael replied softly. He took the porcelain cup—which was cracked along the rim—without shifting his gaze from the sky.
Vivian stood beside him, also staring at the overcast clouds that seemed reluctant to move. As someone who had served for decades, she knew what was swirling inside the young man's head. "Don't think too much about heavy things, Kael. Just live through what is right in front of you now," Vivian said, trying to offer comfort.
Kael took a long breath; the bitter aroma of coffee and tobacco melded in his senses. "Bi, twenty years ago, wasn't this house the most magnificent place there ever was? I still remember how those crystal chandeliers used to glow," Kael paused, his eyes sweeping across the massive pillars that were now dull and overgrown with moss. "Why did it all just vanish? It's as if no matter how hard I try to fix it, everything still ends in vain. This house... it's like it refuses to come back to life."
Vivian turned toward Kael, seeing the firm jawline that now appeared thinner. She understood that the burden Kael carried wasn't just about wealth, but about the pride of a great name that was nearly gone. Vivian patted Kael's shoulder gently, a small touch trying to pass on whatever strength was left. Without saying anything more, she turned and walked slowly back into the large house that now felt silent and cold, leaving Kael alone with the rest of his coffee and his dark thoughts.
Kael was once again pulled into the whirlpool of memories that haunted him every time silence took hold. The events from twenty years ago were still clearly etched in his mind, as sharp as a wound that never truly healed. A Christmas holiday that should have been filled with laughter turned into a bloody tragedy when a horrific accident claimed the entire Darvick family, leaving Kael as the sole survivor.
That night, it wasn't just his family's lives that were lost, but the very foundation of his own life. One by one, their glory crumbled. Their company's shares plummeted, colleagues who once bowed in respect turned their backs, until finally, absolute bankruptcy swallowed the Darvick dynasty whole.
Throughout that raging storm, only Vivian remained steadfast in the mansion. As the head housekeeper who had dedicated herself since she was young, Vivian was no longer just a servant; she was the only living witness left of the Darvick family's golden age—the only anchor preventing Kael from sinking into total despair.
"Kael, come inside. There is something I want to tell you," Vivian called from within, breaking Kael's bitter reverie. Her voice echoed faintly in the grand living room that now appeared worn out.
Kael sighed heavily, his tired eyes scanning the remnants of luxury around him the faded carpets and the empty frames that once held priceless paintings.
"What is it, Bi? Is it something very important?" Kael asked in a listless tone, as if there were no news left in the world that could possibly surprise him.
He crushed his cigarette butt in an old crystal ashtray on the marble table. With a weary gait and slightly slumped shoulders, he walked inside to meet the woman who had cared for him even better than his own mother.
Kael sat on the cracked leather sofa, looking up at Vivian, who stood waiting for him with an unreadable expression a mixture of anxiety and firm resolve.
"Kael, do you remember what I told you the other day? That when you turned twenty-eight, I would give you something?" Vivian's voice flowed calmly, but her gaze pierced through him, as if demanding the young man's full attention.
Kael didn't answer right away. He remained leaning back, his eyes fixed on the remaining wisp of smoke from the cigarette butt he had just stubbed out in the ashtray. A bitter smile played at the corner of his lips a smile that looked more like a pained smirk.
"Tonight I'm exactly twenty-eight, aren't I, Bi? And look... for twenty years I've lived in this pit of poverty. Even just to fill my stomach, I have to rely on you," Kael said with unmistakable bitterness. Every word that left his mouth felt like a thorn pricking at his own pride as a man.
Vivian didn't flinch for a second hearing that despair. Instead, she took a single step closer to Kael. "Kael, after this, your life will no longer be hard. Trust me," she said with a tone so certain, it sounded almost like a prophecy.
Hearing that, Kael looked up. He stared at Vivian's wrinkled face for a few seconds before a small laugh escaped his throat. The laugh was dry and hollow, as if Vivian's words were nothing more than a ridiculous joke that wasn't funny at all. "Are you daydreaming, Bi? Look around us. This house is dying, and we're just waiting for the moment it all finally collapses," Kael said.
Kael's laughter grew louder, echoing through the vast, quiet living room. Yet, behind that laughter was a thick layer of desperation a form of self-defense because he had been let down by hope too many times before.
To him, the promise of a better life was just a bedtime story he had long since forgotten. He didn't know that behind Vivian's steady gaze lay a great secret, ready to pull him out of this black hole or perhaps draw him into something far more complicated.