**

In a luxurious bed, he laid looking contemplatively at the ceiling of his dark room. His eyes were like onyx; his vision was blurry.

The moonlight was fighting to illuminate his room, blocked almost entirely by the ample curtains.

Still few brave rays pierced through, shimmering unto the ground and casting light unto the furniture.

"6 years uh?"

It was the time it had taken for the one he was replacing to leave the premises of the house for good.

When he had left he couldn't quite believe it. "He would come back soon," he had convinced himself. After about a month had passed he had realized his initial mistake. The one he was made to replace was gone... for good.

He wasn't happy, he wasn't sad either.

He wasn't even relieved. In fact he felt jealous.

"You must be dead now.."

"How lucky..."

These past 5 years had been hell. The operations he had underwent to change his face forced him to take pills every 3 days or atrocious itching would wash over him. Transformation magic did exist in this world, but those able to transform humans were few and far between, and even then the transformations weren't permanent. As for his Balmung eyes... he had traded his vision to obtain them. The injections made to darken them, troubling his sight.

The constant feeling of being out of place, living the life destined for another. The bone-rendering training coupled with a plethora of elixirs had made his core comparable to a regular's noble. Still...

Nothing.

Nothing had went well for him since that day.

He had went along with his father's whims, wanting only to make him proud, but soon enough that father started taking care of another. Now he didn't know what to feel, nor how to express it.

A deep seated, silent rage brew inside him. Not the kind that made you explode and yell in a violent outburst... No, that he'd have dealt with a long time ago. His rage was corrosive, the kind that slowly devoured your innards and corrupted everything around you. What could he do? Rebel?

He was in the Balmung's residence. He was their first son, allegedly, but would the one who had treated his own son in such a callous way bat an eye at getting rid of him. Yet again...

The only thing that kept him somewhat functional and hopeful was his affection for his pretend little brother. Not only was he kind, he was a true Balmung. And his potential was so terrifying, that he had no way to compete. However, this was exactly why he liked him. This kid, was his key out of this world of pain. "5 years.." This was how old the brother was now. And in Balmung's culture this meant he would soon be given a name. "Become strong brother."

This lonely kid's name was Sorre -- Sorre Balmung.

****

"Sorre! Wake up wake up!" A childish voice said from behind the door.

"Mmmhm," Sorre mumbled in his bed. "Oh, I fell asleep."

Wake up?

"Leave me alone, I want to sleep..." he said his voice sounding remote.

Dum, Dum

DUM, DUM.

"Uh?" Sorre thought, as he heard noises he couldn't recognize. Instinctively he pounced up, his long black hair like an aroused cat's, his eyes trained on the door.

"Wake up!!"

No w--

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Bam!

A running youth said as he crashed into the room, the heavy mahogany door collapsing on the ground.

"WAKE UP!" The youth said standing valiantly over his defeated wooden opponent.

He then flew forward, jumped unto his reluctantly awake brother and slapped him. Pack

"ARGH!" Sorre gasped as his back made an audible crack and as his ears rang.　"What--"

"Wake up, stupid Soso! You're late!" The kid interrupted.

"Uh?" Sorre said as he massaged his aching back and stinging cheek. He stood up lethargically, looking at the energetic brat who had woke him up so rudely.

Late, what would I be late--

"Ooooh!" he said as he somber eyes illuminated, "Yeah, you're right! Today's an important day!"

The important day that they were talking about was the naming ceremony.

The unnamed kid in front of him was dressed in beautiful attire, his hair well kempt, and he exuded a perfume reminiscing of sisterella, a rare flower associated with luck and growth. Clearly he had been pampered for this occasion.

His domineering mana, that he couldn't even restrain, only partly kept in check by his metal bracelets, guaranteed that he would get a good name.

"Hahaha starting today I'll finally be able to call you something else than 'baby,'" Sorre said a mocking smile on his face.

"I am not a baby!" The boy said, soiled. "I am five now!"

"I know, I know." Sorre replied amused.

"Good! Hurry up, I want to eat!"

"Ha-" Sorre didn't even have the time to laugh, that the kid had vanished from the room.

"Ha-ha-ha," he said with the manners of a man who didn't know whether to laugh or cry after a frustrating vagary of life, still his face carried a soft smile.

"This kid, seriously..."

"No. that's good too..." He stretched his body.

"Stay young... brother."

He looked at his figure that wasn't there anymore, and then at the door he had broken.

Then after making sure he was thoroughly awake, he put on his slippers and walked toward his desk, and on there was a small crystal ball, that he repeatedly knocked on the table.

He then walked slowly towards the window.

Pulling open the curtains and looking outside. The sun wasn't up high yet, but it's radiance and warm rays warmly reminded him that he was alive for yet another day.

Soon

"Yes, young--" a woman said in a dignified voice, before her eyes fell on the collapse red door.

"What happened!?" she said a slight creak in her voice as she staggered in the room, scanning it in an attempt to

better understand what had occurred.

He looked at her, his eyes in a warm and candid smile.

"Gloria," he said with a voice as cold as ice. He had no need for her worry, and he wouldn't answer that question.

Right now, there were far more important things to do.

"Dress me like a prince."

******

After being dressed in attires that satisfied his fancies, he thanked Gloria and went to the dinning room. There was sitting his soon-to-be-named brother, along with his father and mother.

"Greetings, father."

"Greetings, mother."

No sooner had he said that, that he sat at the table; both parents only nodded. The mother was there, but her mind was elsewhere. She had never taken well the idea of being separated from her son, but now that he was gone for good, she was... Her herself didn't know.

Still it was obvious that she wasn't feeling well, her usually silk white complexion taking a sickly white, and her face looking somewhat emaciated.

As for the father, he was simply not talkative; not looking much worse than usual.

Still, for this rare occasion he talked.

"Slept well?"

At the rare question, Sorre answered "Yes, father". His smile radiant, but his voice frigid. Still the father didn't seem to mind.

"Good."

"Today will be a long day, so make sure to eat well."

Then he looked at him again.

"Sorre, you're sure you got everything ready."

"Yes father.." He said robotically, not aware that he had forgot something fundamental to his wellbeing.

"Daddy! Can you stop talking, I am hungry!" Said the impatient child besides Sorre.

To be fair, he had been waiting for quite some time now.

Nathanael laughed. "Sorry, sorry," he said before clapping thrice.

When he finished clapping, the servants started pouring into the dining room bringing with them platter of staple breakfast foods as well as side dishes for those who would be so inclined. Staples including toasted sliced bread, bone soup, and rice.

Among the accompagnements, were cheese, seared meat, bacon, cut and seasoned vegetables as well as what looked like some sort of chips.

Nathanael asked after the food arrived, "How does it feel to finally get a name?"

"Hahaha I don't know, but I am happy!"

"Good," he said with a smile that reached his ears.

"Still... after that we will have to train you in a way that suits your new name!"

The boy shrieked back in his seat for a second and then realized it also meant that his father knew the name.

"Oooh, what's my name! What's my name?"

"It's a ssecret."

The father and son reveled in the atmosphere of the day.

The mother didn't joined in that banter. She might as well not have been seated.

Sorre, from the side, looked at the scene with a tinge of amusement and disgust, on one side he was happy to see his brother smile, on the other he wanted to puke in his mouth seeing this man pretend to be kind and amiable.

Still he was so happy, and today's morning attack had disturbed his routine so much that he hadn't noticed that he had forgot to take his pill.

He lightly scratched the side of his left cheek something suddenly itching him, before going back to his meal still unaware.

Before starting to eat, the father did a silent prayer to the primordial goddess of the night and darkness, before allowing everyone to dig in.

This itch that had went away unnoticed however, was a sign of what was to come.