Josh had always held the Righeart family in the deepest regard. He had watched Ether's father rise to head of the house, admired the union with his wife, and witnessed the birth of their children. When the duke's firstborn arrived — a boy — Josh had seen only one thing: a child impossibly cute, full of life and curiosity.
From that moment, Josh had been near the young master almost constantly. He had watched Ether's childish antics, his playful demeanor, the way he laughed and explored everything without restraint.
Then, after a while, a girl was born into the household. She resembled the duchess more than the young master — quiet, deliberate, graceful. Her name was Maria.
But the girl carried something of her brother's spark. Even as a child, she had energy that made her impossible to ignore, mischievous and daring in small ways. Yet, as time passed, that spark was tempered by responsibility. While Ether remained the embodiment of curiosity and play, Maria grew serious.
Then tragedy struck the house.
First, the young master — the duke's heir — was gone. And then the duchess followed. In the span of a short time, the household became unmoored, a family without its center.
It was Maria, at only fifteen, who became the light that steadied them. She took up the weight of the house's affairs, carrying duties far beyond her years. Her laughter faded. Joy became a luxury she could not afford. Material pleasures, once tempting, were suppressed. Responsibility molded her, and Josh watched it happen, his heart heavy with respect and sorrow.
Five years later, Josh returned. And with him came news that the missing child — Ether — had found his way back.
Josh felt relief, yes, but the family's rules were clear: no one could see him yet. The child lost was still a secret.
One afternoon, Josh was training in the yard, swinging his blade with every ounce of strength he had. Sweat poured down his face. His muscles burned. The world around him blurred into the rhythm of motion.
Near exhaustion, he paused for a breath, only to notice someone at the edge of the training ground. A young man with dull, blue hair, standing perfectly still, watching him.
How long had he been there?
The figure stepped forward, and a small smile curved his lips. "Hey, Uncle Josh. Long time no see."
Josh's chest should have leapt with joy. Relief, happiness, reunion — all the emotions he had bottled up for years.
But none of them came.
Something about Ether was… off.
It was subtle, almost imperceptible, yet undeniable.
It was as if he were hiding behind a mask. As if the boy who had been lost for so long was no longer entirely himself.
Josh felt a chill run down his spine. He wanted to trust, to embrace, to welcome the child back.
But a part of him recoiled. Something in Ether's gaze hinted at a truth he could not yet grasp — a version of the boy, or the man he had become, that was not meant to be fully seen… yet.
From that day, Josh made it his mission to understand the mysteries of his young master. When he heard of Ether's simple desire to walk through the town, Josh had immediately volunteered to accompany him, taking full responsibility for whatever might happen.
As they moved through the streets, Josh's heart gradually eased. Ether seemed… normal. Calm. Human. In a way, he reminded Josh that perhaps the boy he had once known — the child he had watched grow up — still existed beneath the layers of hardship and silence.
Then, unexpectedly, a small figure darted across their path. A child, rushing around the corner, collided with Ether.
"I'm sorry!" the boy stammered, trying to bolt.
Before he could get far, Josh reacted with lightning speed. One hand gripped the boy's wrist; the other plunged into the child's pocket, pulling out a small bag of gold coins.
The boy struggled, eyes wide with panic.
"You little thief!" Josh barked, his voice sharp as steel. Anger flashed across his face. "Stealing from a noble? Do you know what the law of the Empire of Leon says? That hand would be yours!"
He drew his sword, the blade catching the sunlight. The boy froze, terror written clearly across his face. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable.
Ether watched silently, calm and composed, his gaze unflinching.
Then, as Josh's sword hovered over the child, Ether moved. Slowly, deliberately, he raised a hand.
"Stop," he said. His voice was soft, yet carried absolute authority.
Josh froze, the weight of the sword suspended mid-air. The boy blinked, disbelief and fear mingling on his face. Slowly, cautiously, he opened his eyes.
Ether's presence held the moment like a force no one could oppose. He did not yell. He did not threaten. He simply… stopped it.
The child looked from the knight ready to punish him to the young master who had intervened, and something profound seemed to register in his eyes. This was not just mercy — it was judgment tempered with understanding.
Josh slowly lowered his sword, still wary, still alert.
The boy, previously trembling, remained rooted in place, staring at Ether. The man who had seemed carefree just moments ago now carried the wisdom and presence of someone far older. In Josh's eyes, Ether looked like a sage.
After a long pause, Ether knelt slightly, bringing himself closer to the boy's level. His hand rested gently on his knee as he spoke.
"Tell me… your name."
The boy's lips quivered. One wrong word, one hint of defiance, and he knew the consequences could be severe.
"N-Norn… my name is Norn," he whispered.
Ether nodded, a soft, almost imperceptible smile appearing. He patted the boy's shoulder gently.
"Are you afraid?" Ether asked, his voice calm, inviting honesty.
"Yes," Norn admitted, barely above a whisper.
"Then why don't you calm down?" Ether said, his hand resting lightly on Norn's shoulder, the gesture both comforting and commanding.
Josh's voice rose, tinged with frustration and disbelief. "Young Master, what are you—?"
"Josh!" Ether interrupted, his voice rising slightly, cutting through the tension. Then, his tone lightened, almost teasing, "I see what you don't."
He turned his gaze back to the boy. "I have a terrible sense of money, but even I can tell this is a lot. To have the guts to steal from me… and with a knight right beside you… weren't you afraid of getting caught?"
At those words, the boy began trembling again, his small body quivering under the weight of fear.
Ether let out a soft shrug, brushing a strand of hair from his face. "Let me rephrase it," he said gently, yet with unmistakable authority. "Why do you steal?".