March 6th. Sixteen years old today.

I glanced at the mirror across from my bed, catching my own reflection. My eyes, crimson, stared back at me. They looked almost... foreign, like I was looking at someone else. I couldn't shake the feeling that I wasn't just me today, like something or someone else had settled into my skin.

A light knock at the door broke the silence, followed by a familiar voice. "Luca?"

Sacer's face appeared as he pushed the door open. His white hair was wild with bedhead, catching the early morning light. His gold eyes, shining bright, looked tired-like he hadn't slept much, either. He gave me a small, cautious smile.

"Morning, birthday boy," he said, his voice light but edged with something I couldn't place.

"Happy birthday, Sacer." I sat up, my hands rubbing my eyes.

"You okay? You seem off." he asked, sitting on the edge of my bed and folding his arms, his expression mirroring my own unease.

I nodded, unable to keep it in. "Yeah. It's like... I don't know, like something's coming." My chest felt tight, as if the air had turned thick and heavy overnight.

Sacer glanced down, tapping his fingers on his arm as if debating something. "Sixteen's supposed to be important, right? Maybe you’re just psyching yourself out."

"Yeah," I said, but the words felt hollow. It wasn't just the day-it was something deeper. And as much as I wanted to brush it off, I couldn't ignore the chill that crept up my spine.

A few minutes later, we heard footsteps on the stairs, followed by the familiar call of our father's voice. I threw on my clothes, and Sacer waited, lost in thought as he traced invisible patterns on the bedspread.

We headed downstairs together, bantering as we made our way into the kitchen.

Father was already there, a pot of tea steaming on the table, its warm scent filling the room. Honey? He looked up as we entered, his face creasing into a smile.

"Happy birthday, boys," he said, pulling us both into a quick, tight hug. "Sixteen. Almost men, aren't you?" His voice was full of pride, and for a moment, the strange heaviness lifted, replaced by the warmth of his smile.

"Thank you, Father," Sacer replied. I just nodded, feeling a sense of comfort in the way he looked at us. It made everything feel... normal, like it was just another birthday.

Father poured us each a cup of tea, and we sat together in the kitchen, the morning light spilling through the windows and casting a soft glow over the room. Outside, the faint calls of birds mingled with the rustling of trees in the wind. I glanced out through the window and noticed our old cart hitched up, packed with supplies.

"Are we... going somewhere?" I asked, glancing at my Father.

He nodded, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "I thought I'd take you both to Valtara. There's something I want you to see, and I figured a birthday in the city might be a nice change."

Sacer's face lit up, and I felt a flicker of excitement too. A trip to the capital city was rare, especially with Father. Hell, we’d only been there once before. At least ten years ago.

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"Finish up, boys, and we'll be on our way," Father said, grinning as he finished his tea and stood, already preparing to leave.

We followed him outside, stepping into the cool morning air. I climbed into the cart beside Sacer, the quiet anticipation of the trip pulling me away from the strange unease I'd felt all morning. Sacer seemed happy as ever, glancing over at me with a grin as we set off down the road.

The journey was longer than I remembered. We passed through quiet villages, winding along roads flanked by rolling fields and forests. Sacer and I pointed out landmarks, laughed at each other's jokes, trying to pass the time as the cart bounced along the rocky path.

As the morning wore on, the landscape began to shift, the small villages and quiet fields giving way to signs of the bustling capital. Valtara rose up in the distance, its towering stone walls dark against the horizon. My heart pounded as we neared the gates, and the quiet of the countryside melted into the chaos of the city.

The smell of spices and roasted meat hit me first, the came the stench of smoke. Crowds filled the streets, their voices blending into a low hum. Merchants called out, offering wares from lands I'd only heard of, and street performers drew small crowds, spinning illusions that glowed in the air.

Father led us through the winding streets, pointing out landmarks, his smile never fading. Sacer and I tried to take it all in, glancing at each other as we passed temples, taverns, and statues of ancient heroes.

After weaving through the city, we finally reached the center square, a vast open space surrounded by statues and towering buildings. At its heart was a raised platform, and in the middle of it stood a stone pedestal. My breath caught when I saw what was embedded in it.

A sword.

It was longer than I could have ever expected, its hilt wrapped in weathered leather, the blade shimmering with a faint golden glow that seemed to pulse in time with my heartbeat. Runes were etched along its edge, symbols that I couldn't read but felt in my bones. My feet moved forward on their own, carrying me closer to the platform, my eyes locked on the blade.

"That's the Mirage Sword," Father said from behind me, his voice full of awe. "The weapon Gabriel used to defeat Damon, the Demon King."

I felt a wave of cold run through me at the name, like it was sinking into my skin. I'd heard the stories a hundred times, read about Gabriel's battles and the final fight that ended Damon's reign. But seeing the sword itself felt different, like something was pressing down on me, urging me forward. I stared at the blade, and a strange feeling twisted in my chest- fear.

Beside me, Sacer was just as captivated, his gold eyes wide as he gazed at the blade. I could feel him tensing beside me, his fingers twitching, almost as if he wanted to reach out. I glanced at him, but he didn't meet my eyes. He looked lost, caught in his own spell.

I took another step forward, and then another, drawn to the sword by an invisible force. It wasn't until I heard the whispers in the crowd that I realized people were watching. I glanced around, noticing the glances that darted between me and my brother. Murmurs drifted through the crowd, quiet but sharp, the words digging into my skin.

"Look at his eyes," one woman whispered, her gaze darting away as I looked at her. "They're... red."

"It can't be..."

"I heard the last one with red eyes was..." A man's voice trailed off, his words swallowed by the crowd.

"Did you see that other boy's hair? White as snow."

The crowd pressed in closer, their eyes narrowing as they took in every detail-my dark hair and strange eyes, Sacer's bright gold gaze and hair that seemed almost to glow in the sunlight. I could feel the weight of their stares, their suspicion filling the air like a heavy mist.

I wanted to turn away, to pull Sacer with me and disappear, but I was rooted to the spot. The blade pulsed, the glow around it intensifying, and I couldn't shake the feeling that it was looking right at me.

Sacer shifted beside me, his expression mirroring my own unease. He glanced back at Father, but he was just confused, glancing between us and the crowd around.

Then, without warning, a sharp, searing pain tore through my body.

I gasped, doubling over as fire burst from my skin, spreading up my arms in black, twisting flames. The pain was overwhelming, raw and consuming, like I was being burned alive from the inside out. I stumbled back, barely aware of the crowd around me, of the screams and the horrified faces staring at me.

"Please," I choked, reaching out, desperate for something to hold onto. I fell to my knees, the ground beneath me scorching over.

"Father! Sacer!" I gasped, my voice breaking. I looked around, searching for them, but my vision was blurring, swallowed by the darkness that twisted around me, binding me in shadows that pulsed with a life of their own. The flames wrapped tighter, growing hotter, until I could barely breathe.

Sacer stood a few feet away, his face pale, his eyes wide with horror. He took a step back, shaking his head, and I saw his hand twitch like he wanted to reach out-but he didn't. He just stared at me, his gold eyes full of something that looked like... pity.

"Luca..." he whispered, his voice barely audible over the roar of the flames.

"Help me!" I screamed, my voice cracking.

"Luca, what's happening to you?" My Father whispered, his voice full of disbelief. He looked between me and Sacer, like he was seeing us both for the first time, and the confusion in his eyes only made the pain worse.

"I don't know!" I choked, my voice raw. I felt the fire clawing deeper, pulling at something buried inside me, memories that weren't mine flashing through my mind-faces, battles, blood spilled on cold stone. I clutched my head, fighting to hold onto myself, to push back against the darkness that felt ancient and endless.

Then, from somewhere deep within the flames, I heard a voice, cold and echoing, whispering a name.

Damon.

The darkness surged, growing thicker, hotter, wrapping around me until I could barely feel my own heartbeat. I looked at Sacer one last time, desperate, pleading. I needed him to see me, to know I was still his brother. But in his eyes, I saw something else-something that felt like betrayal.

"Sacer... please... don't leave me..." I whispered, my voice breaking. But he just stared at me, his face filled with a terrible understanding, as if he'd known something about me all along.