The room smelled faintly of cedar polish and old books, the kind of scent that brought a quiet sense of warmth and familiarity.
Kyle sat on the edge of his bed, a towel draped loosely over his shoulders as he dried his medium length locks. The soft rustle of the fabric was the only sound breaking the silence. His hair damp and heavy, brushed against his neck with every small movement. A few strands gleamed white the same shade as his eyebrows, a subtle but distinct contrast against the rest of his dark hair.
His gaze drifted toward the nightstand beside him, where a single framed photo rested. He reached out absently, fingertips brushing over the smooth glass before letting his hand fall away.
In the photograph, a younger version of himself stood between his mother and late father, both smiling with an ease that now felt like a lifetime ago. His father's arm was wrapped protectively around his baby sister, holding her close. The man was tall, brown skinned, with faintly scattered facial hair and sharp brown eyes that seemed to look straight through the lens, eyes full of quiet confidence and warmth.
Kyle's sister, only a baby then, had a small tuft of white hair and the same pale brows m, a mark passed down from their mother.
Kyle studied the picture for a long moment. His mother's gentle smile, his father's strong presence, his sister's innocent face, all frozen in that single frame. While his sister bore more resemblance to their mother, Kyle took after his father in almost every feature. In time, he knew he would look just like him. The same sharp eyes, the same quiet strength. Sometimes, when he caught his reflection unexpectedly, it already felt like he was looking at a ghost of the man in the picture.
The towel slipped slightly from his shoulders as he exhaled, the faint creak of the bed the only sound that followed.
"Life's as unpredictable as ever, old man, l wish you and Grandma were here." He murmured.
His eyes water as he looked at his father's cheerful expression in the photograph. That familiar smile steady, confident, and kind struck something deep inside him. His father and grandmother had been the strongest pillars in his life, the foundation upon which everything he had become was built.
His father's wisdom had shaped him, guiding him through every decision, every hardship. The man had never spoken much, but when he did, his words carried weight. Kyle could still remember those quiet evenings when his father would sit with him, sharing lessons about strength, patience, and responsibility. Even now, those words echoed in his mind whenever he faced something difficult.
His mother's love and his grandmother's tenderness had been the forces that kept him standing when life tried to crush him. Between them, they had built a wall of comfort and belief around him, a shield against the world's cruelty. Whenever he stumbled, they were the ones who reminded him who he was.
From the very bottom of society, his family had clawed their way up. Every step of their climb was marked by struggle and sacrifice. There had been days when they had nothing, when the world had turned its back on them. But through perseverance, they rose again. Their name, once spoken with mockery, now carried weight and respect. Even the great families and powerful clans who once looked down on them had no choice but to acknowledge their presence.
And those who had laughed, those who had scorned and stepped on them when they were weak, now lowered their heads whenever paths crossed. The victory was sweet, but bittersweet all the same.
Because the two people who had believed in him the most, the ones who had given him his strength and purpose, were no longer here to see it. They weren't here to witness the triumph, to share in the success.
Kyle's throat tightened as he stared at his father's face in the photo, his vision blurring. The silence of the room pressed down on him, heavy and suffocating. Their absence, even after all this time, was a wound that refused to heal.
"Son, life is strange and full of surprises, some good, some bad. It nothing we have control of. We cannot control how, when or to whom things happen. However one thing's certain life is a journey there are ups and downs, but do not let it hold you down. When challenges come and they always do, face them head on and keep moving.when the time comes, you'll regret nothing, son."
His father's words echoed softly in his mind, steady and grounding. The memory of them brought both comfort and pain. Losing his grandmother had been one of the hardest moments of his life. A wound that time had dulled but never healed.
Back then, they had lived among the Makenas, one of the Seven Kings of Mau City. Life there was harsh and unkind. Though they shared the same blood, Kyle's family was treated as outsiders, tolerated, but never truly accepted. The air in that house was always heavy with unspoken judgment and cold courtesy.
Only his grandmother had truly embraced them. Her kindness was a rare warmth in a home filled with distant faces and whispered contempt. She treated Kyle not as a burden, but as her own heart. Her laughter filled the halls, and her gentle words had the power to ease any pain. She often brought him small gifts like little toys, carved animals, and shiny trinkets, things that meant nothing to others but everything to him. In those simple gestures, she made his world brighter.
But his cousins had been cruel. Their words, sharper than knives, cut deeper than any wound. Kyle had tried countless times to befriend them, to laugh, to play, to belong. Each attempt ended the same way nothing but rejection, bruises, broken toys. Eventually, he stopped trying. He retreated indoors, finding comfort only in the presence of his loving grandmother, who never failed to remind him that he was enough just as he was.
When she died, the house grew colder than ever. They were forced to move away, carrying with them nothing but memories and the weight of loss.
Life slowly began to improve after that. Kyle found new friends, tasted what it meant to live freely, and for a time, things felt normal even happy. But that fragile peace didn't last.
Three years later, tragedy struck again. His father passed away, and with him went the stability that had held their world together. Overnight, everything crumbled. The wealth, the respect, the status, all of it vanished like smoke in the wind. Those who had once smiled in their presence turned their backs without hesitation. Even the so called family friends disappeared.
Despite her education and sharp mind, his mother couldn't find stable work. She was forced to take on multiple jobs, exhausting herself day and night just to keep food on the table and a roof over their heads.
Those were their darkest days. Days of hunger, shame, and endless struggle. Kyle could still remember the hollow look in his mother's eyes whenever she came home late, too tired to even eat. That image became seared into his mind, a reminder, a promise.
He swore that their suffering would never repeat.
And so he fought back. Step by step, he clawed his way up from the ashes, pushing through every obstacle that tried to drag him down. Every sacrifice, every sleepless night, every battle, all of it was for them. In time, he lifted his family out of despair and reclaimed the glory his father once built.
But victory came at a cost. Along the way, he made enemies and powerful ones. Politicians, underworld syndicates, even elements of the government itself had crossed paths with him, and none had forgotten. Yet despite it all, he stood firm.
Now that he had regained everything they had lost, there was only one thing left that mattered that is his family's safety and well being. That would always remain his top priority no matter the price.