[Three Months Later, Lucian's Birthday]

"Are you excited, Lucian?" Mary asked me, her eyes and focus occupied with my attire as she dressed me in my robes.

I, however, remained in fixed silence, my gaze distantly looking back at myself in the cheval glass.

Three months of hard work has decorated me and brought me to this singular day. My most important day as of being reincarnated into this world, but not of my life. So why?

Why was my heart racing with such unease today instead of all those other days?

"Lucian?" Mary repeated herself, this time her hands drawn away from my body as she leaned closer to my face whilst I still faced the mirror.

Her silky white hair had grown longer, passing her shoulder blades and her crimson eyes bewitched me as they searched for lingering doubts within mine.

"...Yes. I guess you could say I'm excited." I finally replied to her, turning my head slightly.

Slowly, she returned to my outfit, ensuring the most minute details would be perfect as she began to speak.

"You know, it's okay to be nervous. But you should relax. There is nothing for you to be worried about. Just enjoy yourself like any other day. Its your special time of the year!" Her words, much like her tone in speaking, were very considerate and embroiled with cordiality aligning perfectly with this character of hers I grew to learn about and understand.

I let out a meek smile and nodded, my eyes filled with more edge than before as I steadied my thoughts and cooled my trembling hands.

"Are you perhaps afraid of what your father will think about you?" Mary continued to uphold our conversation, trying to better understand my feelings to help me feel more comfortable.

"I suppose I am. I've never met my father before, after all." I cheerlessly uttered.

And that was the truth. Not just in this world, but in my old world. Previously, as a child I was an orphan stealing food from good people and fighting to survive in the slums of the worst rejects of my world. I never had a guiding figure who I could call my father and the same could be said for a mother.

Obviously things have changed and I've met and bonded with my mother over the time we've had, but that hasn't occurred with my father. My father is always absent, busy with upholding duties of being a noble and a highly respected man who was formed a family from nothing. He was sure to be a man of high standards.

Could I live up to the expectations of such a man?

Even as I moved along in my life, when I was picked up by a group of assassins and trained for the sake of bringing in profits to their group, no one guided me. I could only look to my own reflection and lean on the crutch of my cracked sword. I had no one to fear of not welcoming me or loving me. But what if my own father, my own blood were to reject me?

I wouldn't know what I would do with myself then.

Mary pinched my cheeks roughly and began stretching my cheeks. "Where's the usually cheeky prodigy Lucian!?"

"Ow! Mary stop!" I giggled, pushing her hands away from my face.

"What do you mean? I'm not even doing anything to you." Her foot stomped away from me as she shot a smug smile in my direction. "Your smile makes you look even better in that outfit, Lucian." She hurriedly skipped out of my room.

I turned back to the mirror to realise my frown had been turned upside down, my cheeks slightly rosy from the pain. "...I guess I do look much better." I commented, gazing at my appearance.

Draped in black pants and a similarly loose fitted black robe tinted with gold, my appearance screamed noble. A regal presence seemed to dawn over my shadow as I turned and twisted before my reflection. The silk fabric felt smooth on my skin and its obsidian shade glossed with light from the chandeliers reflecting down.

I paused before my shut window, looking far and wide at the overcast weather and the leading path to the front of our manor. It was still empty.

"Its still early in the morning. I should head downstairs and practice a little bit before the party starts."

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

And so, I began to march past the confines of my room and slowly walked down the stairs, my hand gliding over the smooth stone pillars upholding the railing as my arms was too small to reach the railing itself. The dark weather casted its shades into the manor, slipping through the open curtains and dulling the usual radiance of the halls.

Everything seemed much bigger today, the halls more broader but not a hair shorter; the arch's followed against the ceiling, chipped into a particular design that made me sick --- though that wasn't the case usually --- and churned my stomach.

I could feel my demeanour grow cold and my skin turn a sickly pale colour. I started avoiding the gaze of the servants lingering around as I moved outside to the western part of our land where a battle hall was built.

I didn't want to be seen in this state. I needed peace and calm to collect myself. An inspiration that I can focus on to remove other needless worries from my mind.

Sliding open the door to the deep hall, I quickly stepped in. It was as quite as usual. Empty too. Or so I thought at first glance.

Positioned down at the very far end of the hall, a large figure sat with his back turned away from the door. His large beryl trench coat lined with edges of gold sprawled across his back and his gold straw-hat sat awkwardly on his head, leaning more to one side than the other.

I froze right there and then at the entrance, simply inspecting the man. My feet then began to step again, the clicking of my boots heel resounding through the room as I moved to his broad back.

He then flinched and I paused once more. His large hand adjusted his straw-hat as his rough and grumbled voice began to speak.

"Am I intruding," he asked.

"That depends." I replied, wary of the stranger and how he arrived here.

Is he a guest? A friend of our family? Or maybe a new servant?

As endless possibilities of the mans identity ran through my head, he eventually stifled a grunt as he rose haltingly. His large and powerful body covered in ropes of muscle twisted around to face me. His imposing figure burned a deep image into my retinas. His emerald eyes, much like a starved wolves, hounded mine not allowing me to break contact. His rough and patchy beard scratched his sharp jaw and his cheekbones were clearly pronounced. At his waist, sheathed in his scabbard was a sword that he rested his right hand upon.

Awe and fear crept into me as his bloodlust leaked.

I cannot show fear, I thought. If he's an intruder, I have to take care of him!

Gathering all my strength to suppress the effects of his crushing presence, I ignited my Sigil laying dormant beneath my robes. Mana infected my body as I felt my strength slowly being reclaimed.

I matched his gaze confidently, making sure to get my point across as the aureate hue of my iris intensified.

"Ho? You hold quite the presence yourself, boy. No, the word boy isn't appropriate for someone who holds such confidence and bloodlust of his own. Young man it shall be!" The man bellowed as a surprised smile split his face.

Caught off guard, I remained on the front foot, wary of his moves.

My feet plunged ahead of me as I walked closer to this wolf in mans clothing, its teeth sharpened by the blade at his waist.

"I'll ask you this once, so answer me properly. Who. Are. You." I had already readied mana to act on my smallest of whims in case I didn't like the answer he gave me.

"Now, now kid! Rela-"

His words cut off as a ball of fire crackled in my palm. Now only my arms length away from him, I raised my palm to him, condensing the spell conjured in my hand.

"Don't make me repeat myself." I warned him sternly.

Soon, his features faded from my sight. His wide grin had been wiped from his face and all emotion and presence vanished around him. At first, I believed I managed to apply enough force to perhaps make him feel threatened, but soon I realised it was something different. Something more menacing. I wasn't even entirely confident in my senses to tell if he was actually standing in front of me anymore.

By the time I blinked, his lean muscular and large frame had vanished from my sight like his existence which I conceived was nothing more than a mere phantasm.

However, once more I was proven incorrect.

A cold and blunt metal surface scraped along the base of my neck, a tip piercing past me in the corner of my sight as a rash ran across the base of my neck. The razor-edged blade he carried around his waist in a mere blink of an eye was now dictating my life entirely.

"A young man like you has awakened? At such a tender age? It seems like you're going down the page of a mage already! You must be the youngest to ever awaken, well, barring the dragons of course." His voice breathed down my neck, his chill tone raising the smallest of hairs on my body.

I thought I was in control of this situation but...

The predator corners the prey in a net of false security.

I quickly jumped away from his reach, tumbling across the firm surface of the floor. Keeping the embers in my palm ablaze, I scrambled up from the floor, possibly three or fewer metres away.

My breathing became heavy and sweat poured from me, but I kept my mind and body poised in anticipation for his next move.

"Who are you!? What are you doing here!?" I roared in rage, the seething ball of flames released in my iron-sighted vision, charging at break-neck speed towards him.

Only a smirk played on his lips as he side-stepped my attack with confidence, his sword drawn ready by his side as with one large step he was brought before me. His blade swung downwards with potent force, trimming a single hair of my head and catching it.

I was rendered useless. This has been the first time I've had such an experience since a young child in my old world.

His stone-cold face soon cracked and a sunny smile revealed itself. Though, I could still feel remnants of his still readied fangs.

"I'm sorry about that, kid." He withdrew his sword back into its scabbard and patted me on my head. "I was simply trying to find a quiet spot to calm my nerves. You know, I'm not the best at these type of events." He continued to talk as if I had any inkling of what he was referring to.

"Anyway, I'll head off now. Good luck today."

Just like that, with his beryl trench coat swaying in the wind as he opened the door, he left.

"Good luck?"