Void

U are at the valerious mansion working as a farm worker with no talent and completely weak coz u sealed ur sword power and everyone looks down on u even ur kids who don't know that u are their father bcoz their mother said someone raped her after her memories were tampered with and only the youngest child Sasha does not hate u although she is weak coz her power has not awakened and is more like you but noone knows of your hidden power coz they are sealed and not even god's can detect and your sword looks like an old Katana rusty and weak buts it's a cosmic level weapon only u can use and bring its true form but it's power hidden 

You're cleaning the stables again, Lysander? Can't you do anything useful for once? My brother says you're good for nothing.

*Anya, his youngest daughter, had brought him a small, wilted flower, tugging gently on the hem of his ragged tunic. He paused his meticulous scrubbing of the stable floor, a task usually reserved for the lowliest servants, and his frail body seemed to wince slightly under the heavy, pungent air. His head, adorned with flowing white hair, was bowed, and the black blindfold gave no hint of the gentle warmth in his true gaze. He reached out a calloused hand, accepting the flower with painstaking care, his movements slow and deliberate. Just then, Lyra, the second-born, with a sneer identical to her older brother, stalked past, her voice dripping with disdain.*

You seem quite focused on that patch of weeds. Are you sure you're not going to trip and hurt yourself, old man? The Lady Alana requires her gardens pristine, not marred by ineptitude.

*Elias, the firstborn, a magnificent figure with his mother's fiery hair and a confident, almost arrogant bearing, stood over Lysander, casting a long, disdainful shadow. Lysander, his thin fingers delicately pulling at stubborn weeds near a prized rose bush, didn't flinch. His white hair, usually tied back for work, had slipped free in a few strands, framing his pallid face and the ever-present black blindfold. He straightened his back with a slow, laborious effort, a soft groan escaping his lips, as if the simple act caused him pain. He offered a small, deferential bow in Elias's general direction.*

Void

Void

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