"I think there's something you need to tell me."

My father's body language completely shifted. It suddenly tensed up and he looked more guarded. His arms crossed and his feet came close together, a defensive gesture. His face was completely neutral as he turned to face me.

"This sounds like a you issue, so I'm going to leave," Michael whispered to me. My father and I were locked in a mental stand-off. We kept staring at each other, not saying a word. The atmosphere was electric with the only interruption being the door opening and closing.

"So," I said, taking charge of the conversation. "What did you want to hide from me?"

His body didn't relax. Instead, it seemed to only get tenser and tenser. "I didn't want to hide anything from you."

"Cut the bullshit," I said bluntly. "Give me an answer to my question. Why did you put a glamor on me?"

Glamor. A type of illusion magic that can change the appearance of the body. This was usually short-term and couldn't do anything to drastic. It's main use was to just touch-up your appearance during an event.

So why would he put a glamor on me? Much less go through the effort of finding a more permanent version of the spell. It was rare to come across the materials that would be used.

Putting on glamor daily is seen as something weird and odd. The fact that no one else has spotted it yet told me that he went through extra lengths to make it less detectable.

And the cherry on top of this large sundae is that glamor can only be taken off if you're the person who casted it or knew which spell was used. The latter wouldn't help me as I had no mana and Michael would've done something already if he knew.

"I did it to protect you," He answered in an assertive voice. His arms slowly went back down to the sides of his body.

"I don't care about that, I want to know what you're trying to hide."

He remained silent. His eyes started to slowly move away from my stare.

"Okay, let's play it that way," I said with a small smile. It was time to setup a bluff. A farce. "What's going to happen is when I carry out my plan, I'm going to get caught with the glamor. I'm going to get more suspicion on me which will lead to my arrest and death."

My father's eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't risk your life just to find out," He said. His words heavily contrasted his voice. While his words sounded like he was sure, his voice was filled with uncertainty. It was slow and low.

I changed my face to look more confident and challenging. My smile got wider and my eyes danced with playfulness. "And what gave you that idea? I'd gladly risk my life to solve a mystery."

I'd just put him in check. He would have to give a response

He didn't move. All of his energy went into his brain and eyes. They continued to scan me from top to bottom while trying to spot any signs of deception. However, it was to no avail. I was better than him and too good to show obvious signs. After all, I had almost sixteen years of lying and bluffing to some of the most powerful people.

His face expressed unhappiness. His once neutral face gained a big frown. "What happened to you?"

"What happened to me?" I repeated with a maniacal laugh. "I know what really matters in life. Unlike my brothers and sisters, I'm not too concerned about my image with nobility, though I can't imagine why."

"No, I'm more concerned about my personal life. Ideas, projects, influence, all that jazz. After all, it's what you don't see that counts."

His eyes gained a watery quality when he looked at me. I guess it was because he felt that it was his fault about how I turned out. Or perhaps it was because he realized all the struggles I went through being an outcast.

"A black sheep can dream of anything whereas a white sheep can only dream of grass," I said. "But we're straying away from the point. Are you going to answer my question or do I have to leave my life to a coinflip?"

He blinked away the tear that formed. With a heavy sigh, he brought his hand up and began to mumble a chant. A powerful feeling entered the room, one that felt like it would eat me up.

A cold shiver went through my spine as he continued to chant. I felt an odd feeling in my eyes. It was neither pain nor pleasure, but more like a contact lense.

As the feeling got more and more prevalent, he stopped chanting.

"Please don't be angry at me. Understand that I did it to protect you."

When he finished his words, the feeling began to subside. Nothing felt different which confused me. I thought that it would've been something dramatic like an extra face or something. But no. I didn't feel any different.

Stolen novel; please report.

My father gestured towards the window and I walked over slowly. I put my hands over my face and moved it around trying to feel any difference. It still confused me when nothing happened.

But that would change when I looked into the window. Nothing with my appearance was different except one thing. My eyes.

I tilted my head. They were no longer brown.

Instead, they reverted back to their original color. A golden amber color.

"That's what you wanted to hide? My eye color?"

"It's a golden amber amber," He said as if it explained everything.

"And?" I asked, waiting for him to finish the sentence.

"You haven't learned yet?" He asked. I shook my head.

"Eyes hold a significant meaning. Our dark brown eyes of the Zephyrs were given to us by the gods. The darkness symbolizes our power. Our destiny for greatness."

"However, amber eyes are the opposite. Their origins are unknown. Most think that they come from some sort of malevolent force or at the very least those forces prey on those with amber eyes. Their not a mark for a great destiny but an an extraordinary destiny. They're destined for greatness, or perhaps infamy. Every known person with it were known to hold powerful and unique abilities. And yours was the brightest ever known."

"Let me guess, we terrify others and they see us as a threat," I said. My father just nodded as he approached closer to me and put his hand on my shoulder.

"The world sees them as too powerful. Many would gladly hunt them down when they're kids despite the low success rate."

"That's a horrible idea," I said. "They'll just villanize them and create a problem."

My father nodded. "If only they shared your same belief."

I continued to look at my reflection. It was oddly nostalgic, bringing me back to my past life.

"There's more to this story," I said. "You have the resources to protect me, so a glamor wouldn't have been necessary. Hell, it would've been a status symbol for our family."

"I would've agreed, but you're birth was different," He began. "Your birth had special circumstances that complicated things. I could feel from the moment you were born that you didn't possess mana. At first, I thought it would develop later. After all, the amber eyes couldn't be a mistake. That was until a man appeared a few months later."

"A man?" I questioned. "And what do you mean by appeared?"

"It's better if I show you," He said. A purple flame appeared on his finger. Before I could process it, it began to approach my head.

My eyes closed as I was taken into a memory

----------------------------------------

A baby was cradled in my father's arm. One arm held me and the other was writing a document. His attention constantly shifted focus from the paper to me as his face was deeply contorted in concentration.

He had been writing for several minutes until he placed the pen back on the table. He took a sigh of relief as one of his responsibilities was now gone.

"Busy aren't we?" A familiar voice asked. As if in sync, mine and Henry's head both turned to the source.

Sitting on the couch was an old man. His hair was beginning to turn white. Wrinkles had started to form on his face. He had a three-piece suit and a chronographic watch. His golden eyes watched with keen interest on me. He had a knowing smile, one that would startle anyone.

It was the same person who had reincarnated me.

On instinct, Henry raised his hand before casting an offensive spell. I could feel the power of it immediately, like three guns being pointed to my head with the hammer pulled back.

But before the mana even shot out, the man appeared in front of him and gave him a high five. The pressure stopped as the sound echoed throughout the dark room.

"Who are you?" Henry asked. "What do you want with us?"

"I'm just someone of consequence," The man said while chuckling. "All I want to do is help you two."

"Help?" My father asked. He watched cautiously as the man began to approach me and rubbed my cheek with one finger. My baby self suddenly bursted into tears.

"Can I call you Henry?" The man asked. Before my father could respond, he continued to speak. "Henry, as you know, your son should be destined for infamy."

"What do you mean should?" He asked, his voice full on concern.

"You and I both know what you did," He teased. Henry tensed up while the man simply chuckled. "Henry, you're going to have to get better than that. It might work with ordinary people, but not for the capable."

"But back to little Zackary here," He said as he took him out of my father's hand and began to cradle me. As much as Henry wanted to stop it, he knew he stood no chance. In addition, he didn't want to risk potentially harming me.

"Your little mishap resulted in your son not having mana," The man said while still smiling. "Can you imagine? Living in a world like this without it? That would suck."

As he sped up the back and forth movement, my baby self began to be comforted and stop crying.

"So it's true then," he said while beginning to cry and shake his head. "The gods must've been angry at me."

"Those bafoons? They couldn't even hurt a fly," His voice was laced with disdain. "It's something beyond your understanding."

My father stood there shell-shocked. He had a hard time processing everything, but one thing was clear. The man he was dealing with now was way more dangerous than he could handle.

"I wouldn't worry though. He's gifted in a different way. One that will be greater than anyone could imagine."

"What life would he live?" My father asked. "He'll be an outcast, one that's constantly in danger. He won't make it past seven, eight at the very most."

"You're so negative," The man teased. "You've caught me in a rather charitable mood so I'll help you this once."

The man reached into his pocket with one hand and pulled out several ingredients. Tree bark, plant roots, a purple liquid, and a green mushroom. I didn't recognize many of them as I didn't study alchemy, but judging from my father's reaction, they were quite rare.

"Use this to make a sophisticated glamor for the boy," The man said as he put me back into my father's arm. He dusted off the sleeves of his suit before beginning to walk away.

"Why?" My father called. "Why help?"

The man clicked his tongue and slightly tiled his head for dramatic effect. "I'm making an investment in the boy, and I would like to see it pay off."

"What is Zackary getting involved in?"

"Well, the fun's in finding out," The man said with a snicker. "Now that I'm thinking about it, that would actually be something he would say."

"Ta ta Henry!" He sang out with a wave. He instantly turned towards the current me and I felt his gaze penetrate my very soul. I knew that he was watching me. He knew I was there.

He gave me a knowing smile before disappearing completely. I looked down to my arm and saw it slightly shaking.

'Is this fear or excitement for what's to come?'