Offered to the Triplet Alphas

[Ezra]

"I knew I'd find you here," I breathed. My footsteps echoed as I stepped closer to the bar counter in Asher's penthouse.

The chandelier above cast a soft, golden glow that mingled with the darkness, creating an ambiance where one could drown and forget oneself in the haze of gin and smoke.

And as always, Asher sat alone at the borders of light and darkness, not to forget but to be forgotten.

Asher placed down the empty goblet on the cold marble countertop. As he reached out to pour more black wine, I picked up the wine bottle.

"Will it be ok if I pour the wine for you?" I asked.

Asher's eyes flickered towards me, blinked once in a brief acknowledgment before they drifted back to the sea of skyscrapers beyond the glass walls. The twinkling lights of the city reflected in his eyes, while his own remained blank. Sitting beside him, I poured him the wine.

"Mind if I join you?" I asked.

He slid his goblet towards me.

I peered at the faint glint of light from the chandelier dancing on the surface of the wine.

I smiled, curling my fingers around the stem of the goblet, lifted it in my hand, and placed it in front of him.

"I don't need your wine, Asher. I can join you by pouring another for myself," I said, serving myself wine in another goblet.

Asher hadn't changed at all, yet I wish I could say the Asher sitting beside me was the same as before.

Over the years, I had watched Asher fade with each sip of wine and puffs of cigarette, as though witnessing a star's death. I couldn't stop it, couldn't interfere with it. All I could do was watch as the child grew up and assumed that there were no more stars left in his eyes to dim - to die.

I was wrong.

There was still something left inside him, something that had rekindled the day his eyes found an angel. Something was saved that day, something that was probably dying today.

I had noticed all the changes in him ever since he saw Xanthea and I chose to ignore them. But something about him had changed so drastically tonight that there was no way I could let him be on his own. Something about him felt so off that I forgot how angry I was when I got here. All the questions I wanted to ask him had been summarized into a few words - 'are you ok?'

Asher took a small sip, and I followed him. Both of us peered outside the glass wall, taking in how big our pack actually was.

Xanthea's sweet scent lingered on Asher. The scent was so sweet; it interfered with the bitterness of the wine in the best way possible.

I quietly observed the faint bite marks and scratch left behind by Xanthea on his body that the silk robe failed to hide. Wounds as trivial as those should have healed within seconds, but it seemed as though he didn't want them to heal. As though he wanted to relish on their soft pain as long as he could.

"What happened?" I asked, breaking the silence as soon as the red clouds glowed on the horizon, breaking the night sky into dawn.

Asher took another sip of the wine.

"Xanthea. Who is she to you?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "She's not just a breeder to you, is she?"

Asher silently took another sip.

I finished the wine in my goblet in one go and placed the goblet on the counter.

"I know you like doing things alone, but you don't have to anymore. You're not alone in this curse. Raven and I are with you," I said. "Whether we like it or not, we're in this together. If we overcome this curse, we do it together; if we succumb, we do it together. This burden isn't yours to bear alone, Asher. This curse is ours to carry."

He still didn't reply.

I shut my eyes and let out a sigh.

***

Maybe I was asking him the wrong questions, but then again, will there ever be a right answer?

It had been so long that I couldn't even remember when Asher silently withdrew himself, when we brothers separated and drifted apart. But I know it happened when we were kids, when he might have needed us the most.

But instead of understanding him, all we did was ignore and abandon him. I might be one of the reasons he doesn't open up, so I know I don't have any right to ask him to do it now.

The memories of my own childhood are a mere blur of events in my mind.

But I remember Asher's and Raven's childhoods vividly.

Back then, I stood on the same level as them. Neither weaker nor stronger than them.

By "level," I mean the standard our father had set for the three of us. It was the level he expected the sons of the demon lord, Eireal Xipher, to achieve.

Our academic education, training sessions, and even the punishments we received were almost the same.

Looking back at how we were raised, I realize we were more like raw materials being molded into a refined product whose only purpose was to meet our father's expectations.

Our interaction with our mother was limited to once a month. However, I remember her being impassively warm. Neither too attached and loving nor too cold and distant. She was the perfect balance, fulfilling the role of a mother without spoiling us.

Raven was always the loudest one in the room, doing his best to stand out. He loved being noticed, praised and carried in our mother's arms.

Asher was the complete opposite. He remained silent most of the time, observing from the sidelines, as if trying to dissolve into the background. While Raven demanded all of mother's attention, Asher seemed satisfied with the slightest stroke of her hand.

Bare minimum had always been more than enough for Asher and even that bare minimum came rarely from our mother.

Meanwhile, I don't remember how I was back then. Maybe because I merely observed my brothers and tried to figure out where I belonged. I have a feeling that I might have loved being close to my mother since I still faintly remember the peace and security I felt when she hugged me.This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

As years passed by, the academics and training grew more challenging, and the punishments became harsher. It was because the three of us were meant to activate our immortality genes.

Asher always did just enough to meet and satisfy father's expectations and I barely touched the safety line. Raven did much more than expected and it seemed as though had become father's favorite.

Among the three of us, our father had the highest expectations for Raven. However, those expectations were shattered on the day that possibly sowed the seeds of bitterness in Raven's heart towards Asher.

It was the day when Asher's immortality genes were awakened.

To celebrate it, father threw an immortal-awakening party.

I can still remember the glow in my father's dark eyes as he raised Asher up in his arms like a trophy and proudly showed him off in his court and the world, declaring him as 'my son, my blood, my pride, my heir'. Raven kept glaring at Asher who sat beside father throughout the party. In a blink, everything Raven had built with our father came crashing down. Father no longer paid any attention to him.

That was the first time I saw Raven cry, throwing a tantrum in front of everyone at the party. But before he could get father's attention, mother swept him in her arms and took him away.

I stayed and witnessed Asher become the center of attraction. Asher handled the attention just as deftly as he had handled the neglect. He neither looked happy nor disturbed. He behaved like a perfect prince was expected to behave. Since that day, Raven, the smiling, laughing kid, eventually turned into a scowling, bitter kid filled with a constant jitter, envy and hatred.

Hatred might be a harsh word to use, but there could be no other word to describe what Raven felt whenever father chose Asher over him, when he compared him with Asher.

Raven began reading medical books and eating all kinds of plants, potions like a naïve kid and often ended up in the hospital.

He didn't have immortality genes back then, so he could have died because of his recklessness. And our father expected a kid to be mindful enough to not do such things. So, father began scolding and punishing him more because Raven was acting like a 'desperate kid'.