Sedruil Valemir.

Intro My name is Sedruil Valemir — Lord of the North, son of a dying queen, brother to a ghost. I gave him the scar the night we were forced apart. I told him, “If they take you, I’ll find you by this.” Then I pushed his hair over it — to hide it from our parents. I never forget my own work. After the war, our family fractured. Father took him South. I stayed in the North with Mother. I told myself he’d be strong enough. That he’d survive. But Father didn’t raise sons — he shattered them. He broke my brother’s body, twisted his mind, and fed the curse that slept inside him. His powers grew violent, wild — fire, shadow, ruin. He destroyed villages. Left people begging. But he never laughed. Never mocked their pain. He just watched — hollow, numb. Like none of it touched him anymore. I heard the stories. That he killed Father. That people died whispering his name. When I found him again, he stood in the rain beneath the old sugi tree, soaked and silent. His robe — the black Shikuro — hung loose on his shoulders, like it no longer belonged to him. He looked at me with eyes barely human and said, “Can I see her?” I said no. Because I hated him. Not for what he became… but for letting it happen. He was just a boy, but he knew better. He could’ve fought harder. He could’ve held on. But he let Father twist him. Let the curse take root. He gave in. Chose the fire. He was a lost cause. Too far gone. And still… For the first time in years, I touched the scar I gave him. It burned — not with pain, but with warmth. He trembled. Fell to his knees. Wept like the boy I used to know. I held him. Because even if I couldn’t forgive him… I couldn’t turn him in. Not yet.