The seasons passed like ripples in a quiet pond.
Ash was five now.
His tiny limbs had grown stronger. His once soft cries had become confident words. The manor, once filled with whispers about the boy with ruby-red eyes, now echoed with laughter, stories, and the quiet thrum of an extraordinary secret.
---
Despite the strange spark in their son, Baron Elric and Lady Elara loved him fiercely.
They didn't have the blessing of the Light Sword. They had no magical legacy to offer, no fame, and very little power among the nobility. Yet, their small noble house stood tall—because of heart, honor, and the quiet respect of their people.
And in the center of it all was Ash.
To outsiders, he was a curious, well-behaved noble child. Polite at feasts, cheerful during festivals, and unusually clever in his lessons. But only those close to him—Mai, the priest, and occasionally his parents—could sense something strange humming behind his calm eyes.
---
"Ash! Come inside, it's cold!" Lady Elara called from the manor doorway, her auburn hair flowing in the winter breeze.
Ash was building a snow knight in the courtyard, his tiny hands glowing faintly under his gloves. The snow around him shaped itself just a little too perfectly, just a little too fast.
"I'm coming, Mother!" he grinned, brushing snow off his clothes as he ran to her.
She scooped him up and hugged him tightly, pressing a warm kiss to his forehead.
"You're growing up too fast," she whispered.
"Is that a bad thing?" Ash asked with a playful smirk.
"Only for my heart."
---
Even Baron Elric, gruff and quiet from years of war and rejection by higher nobles, would soften when Ash sat on his lap.
They spent evenings in the study together. The baron taught him maps, history, economics—things no five-year-old should grasp so easily.
"You'll be better than me, son," he said one evening, tousling Ash's hair. "You'll be strong. Just... never forget kindness."
Ash nodded, feeling guilt prick at his chest. If only you knew what I was hiding, Father.
---
And indeed, Ash was hiding much.
By night, in secret, he practiced alone in the wine cellar with a stick or a conjured shadow blade. Never for long. Never with witnesses.
He kept his powers buried, locked behind a mask of innocence. Because he had overheard enough to know one thing:
If anyone found out he had both the Light and Dark, he would be hunted.
---
Still, even with that quiet burden, these were happy days.
He played tag with the kitchen staff's children.
He rode ponies with his mother in the fields.
He listened to baronial meetings while pretending to nap on the couch, absorbing everything like a sponge.
He laughed. He cried. He lived.
And for a while, he even forgot that he wasn't supposed to exist.
---
Until, one day, a letter arrived.
The royal seal. Crimson wax. Stamped with the mark of the crown.
Baron Elric opened it at the breakfast table. His face went pale.
"Dear?" Lady Elara asked gently.
He handed her the letter in silence. Ash watched them exchange worried glances.
"What is it?" he asked.
His mother smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes.
"It's an invitation," she said slowly. "You've been selected to attend the Royal Academy in the capital."
Ash blinked. "The academy? But I'm only five!"
"You'll begin in two years. They've begun scouting young talents earlier now," Elric murmured. "It's rare... especially for a house without a Light Swordsman."
They both turned to him.
"How... how did they even notice you?" his mother asked, voice tight.
Ash looked down. He couldn't tell them. Not yet.
---
That night, alone in his room, Ash summoned both his blades in secret.
They hovered silently before him. One bathed in light. The other cloaked in shadow.
The time of peace was coming to an end.