"Leave me alone!"
Aaron's desperate plea cut through the air—but it was quickly drowned out.
Whack.
A loud crack echoed through the alley as the boy—no older than sixteen—collapsed onto the cold ground.
A beautiful woman stepped forward, her heel pressing down hard on his stomach. Behind her stood a rough, brutish man who spat angrily.
"Fuck this! When am I going to get my money from that damn gambling woman? She doesn't have any money, and this useless brat is just… worthless!"
The woman stepped back and wrapped her arms around the burly man.
"Don't worry," she purred softly. "I can always help you relax. You don't need to waste your time on this… trash."
Her fingers traced slow circles across his back.
But the man was no longer listening.
Instead, shoving her aside, he stepped forward and began throwing punch after punch.
Each blow knocked more air out of Aaron's lungs.
Bones fracturing,
Pain and a torrent of emotions,
As death silently approached,
his vision blurred.
His soul and mind drifting farther…
…and farther…
…and even farther.
POV Aaron
What did I even do to deserve this?
I just wanted a normal life.
Or at least something close to one.
My aunt spent every day drinking, never caring about me. My mother had died years ago, and my useless father disappeared just like that—leaving me alone with the woman who ruined everything.
She gambled constantly.
Every coin she had vanished into cards and machines.
School wasn't any better either.
Why me?
Why do I have to pay the price for something I never even did?
My thoughts drifted endlessly into the darkness.
Until a voice suddenly reached me.
"I will send you to a new place," it said calmly. "I can grant you a few things. What would those be?"
My answer came almost instantly.
"I don't want to carry any more burdens. I don't want to suffer anymore…"
I hesitated.
"Where am I going?"
"You will find out soon enough," the voice replied. "But first, I will grant you a wonderful opportunity. A new world—one you would probably call a fantasy world."
"You will be reborn as good as new. Live well. And when the time comes…"
The voice paused.
"I will take care of the rest. Do you agree?"
I nodded.
What else could I say?
It felt like someone offering a billion dollars to a starving man.
Suddenly, I could see again.
Endless darkness surrounded me.
Within it floated countless orbs of light, drifting like stars through a quiet stream. I was among them, slowly moving forward.
Then—
A massive hand suddenly emerged from the void.
It grabbed me.
Pulled me away from the flowing stream.
The hand carried me to a strange place where enormous chains stretched across the darkness, binding something massive. Its shape constantly shifted, impossible to fully understand.
Then it happened.
A strange symbol forced itself into my body—
Etching itself directly into my soul.
Suddenly—
The hand was violently pulled away by a dark crimson-gold thread.
The thread rushed toward me.
It entered my body.
Filling me with something I couldn't even begin to describe.
And then—
My vision collapsed inward.
Folding into silent existence.
Memories I didn't recognize suddenly flooded my mind.
My name is Aaron Veyrath.
Son of the Rogue Duke Magnus Veyrath.
A cripple.
Ever since I was born, my body had been weak. I was constantly looked down upon by my siblings and the others within the castle.
More memories came.
And more.
Even more…
Snap.
My eyes flew open as the sensation of being alive returned to my bones and soul.
"Where… am I?"
My body felt strange—an unfamiliar sensation coursing through every limb.
Slowly, I stood and walked toward a nearby mirror.
The person staring back at me was someone I barely recognized.
Lean.
Lightly defined muscles beneath darker-toned skin.
Sharp ears.
And above all—
Eyes of light golden hazel, faintly glowing in the reflection.
My hair was braided tightly across my head.
I raised my hand slowly, moving my fingers and studying the unfamiliar body that now belonged to me.
My new body.
***
At the same time, the Rogue Duke Magnus Veyrath was preparing to begin the traditional Awakening Ceremony.
Only a small group had gathered within the Ancestral Square.
Two of the Duke's children stood near the ceremonial platform, while several loyal knights and a handful of servants waited silently around the edges of the stone courtyard.
The atmosphere was calm.
Then suddenly—
Screeee—!
A sharp cry tore through the air.
Everyone froze.
Their eyes lifted toward the sky.
A massive white eagle, its body resembling polished marble, descended from above at incredible speed.
Wind swept across the square as the creature slowed, its enormous wings beating heavily while it hovered in place.
The knights instinctively reached for their weapons.
But the Duke raised a hand.
From the eagle's talons hung a rolled parchment bound with a crimson ribbon.
Magnus stepped forward and took it without hesitation.
His sharp eyes studied the wax seal.
An emblem was pressed into the surface—
A female angel holding a scroll.
The symbol of one ancient house.
The House of Oracles.
With a quiet tear, Magnus broke the seal and unrolled the parchment.
The message contained only a single sentence.
_________________________________
{The King Totality}
is born.
_House of Oracles_
__________________________________
As the Duke folded the scroll inward, it dissolved into tiny motes of flame—vanishing at the same moment as the white eagle.
Magnus Veyrath's expression hardened.
Whenever the House of Oracles delivered a prophecy, it was never wrong.
Never.
But this…
This was the most cryptic message he had ever received.
For a moment, silence lingered across the Ancestral Square.
Then suddenly—
Magnus's head turned sharply.
As if he had sensed something.
His gaze locked onto a distant section of the Castle of Valor.
One particular window.
His voice cut through the air, urgent and commanding.
"Check Aaron's room immediately."
The knights stiffened.
Magnus's eyes burned with a dark crimson glow, shifting constantly between their usual deep blue and the predatory red of a hunting beast. His pupils flickered—alternating between round and narrow slits.
It was the gaze of something far more dangerous than a noble.
The gaze of a predator.
The caretakers rushed forward at once, trembling under the immense pressure radiating from the Rogue Duke.
No one dared question his command.
Not when Magnus Veyrath looked like that.