The gentle hum of lullabies faded as the night deepened. The stars above the manor glistened like shards of shattered dreams, while the wind outside howled like a whisper from a forgotten past. Inside the lavish yet humble estate of Baron Elric, a strange pressure began to stir.
Jay—now only a few weeks old—lay in a silk-lined crib, his tiny body resting but his soul very much awake.
---
"Where... am I?"
He opened his eyes not in the real world, but in a place that felt far beyond it—a vast realm of swirling white mist and echoing silence. His tiny infant body was gone. He stood tall, adult, yet weightless, his old self within a dreamscape.
Before him, two swords floated—one gleaming with radiant light, pulsing with warmth and harmony; the other crackled with an ominous black aura, its edge wreathed in shadows and cold fury.
A voice thundered all around him.
"You are neither chosen nor cursed. You are the Balance."
Jay stepped forward, drawn to both blades.
"These powers... what are they?"
"Light is the gift of the divine. Dark is the truth of existence. One brings peace. The other brings strength. But you..."
"You shall wield both."
In a flash of blinding force, the two swords surged toward his chest. He screamed—but instead of pain, a pulse of power spread through him. The mist faded.
---
Back in the real world…
The baby's eyes snapped open. His crimson irises glowed faintly in the dark, unnoticed by the sleeping maid beside the crib.
The room suddenly grew colder.
From the nearby chapel, the manor's priest jolted awake, sweat trickling down his face. Something—no, someone—had just released divine energy. But not the holy kind he was used to. This was... dual. It was unnatural. Forbidden.
He rushed to the baron's chambers.
---
"Baron Elric!" the priest cried, banging on the doors. "Your son must undergo a Naming Rite. Immediately."
Elric, half-dressed and still adjusting from sleep, blinked. "A Naming Rite? But he already has a name. Jay."
"I fear the heavens have not accepted that name," the priest said, voice trembling. "The child carries a mark. One I cannot explain."
Reluctantly, the family gathered in the ceremonial room. Candles were lit. Sacred incense burned. The infant Jay was placed upon the glowing pedestal.
The priest chanted the invocation.
A golden flame emerged from the ceremonial bowl, swirling with divine energy. As he spoke the name "Jay," the flame flickered—then hissed and snuffed out entirely.
Everyone gasped.
The priest lit it again, trying another name.
This time, the flame twisted violently before forming glowing letters in the air:
ASH
The name hovered, pulsing gently before fading into sparks.
---
"That is his true name," the priest said quietly. "Not one given by you or me. One chosen by the will of this world itself."
Lady Elara held her son tightly, confused but filled with awe. "Ash…" she whispered. "Ash Elric…"
The baron placed a hand on his wife's shoulder, hiding his anxiety. "Then Ash he shall be."
---
As Ash grew over the following months, strange phenomena began to unfold.
Sometimes, when he cried, shadows moved unnaturally around the crib. Other times, rays of light would burst from his fingers in his sleep. No one could explain it—but most servants simply assumed the child was "blessed."
Only the head maid, Mai, felt the truth. She had once seen his eyes during a tantrum—one eye glowing gold, the other pulsing red.
No ordinary child, she thought. But whatever he is... I must protect him.
---
One night, as Ash dreamed again, a whisper entered his mind:
"You will be hunted."
"You will be feared."
"But you will never be broken."
Ash, still only an infant but carrying the mind of his past life and the power of something far greater, smiled gently in his sleep.
---
END OF CHAPTER 2